Doubts

seashore under blue sky
Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

This poem is written in the sonnet form,
And yet I have my doubts about its shape
Though nearly to that structure it conforms
There may be holes where nightmare faces gape.

It looks and speaks just as a sonnet would
And talks of metaphysical concerns.
Do we conclude, as poets and readers should,
That in our schizoid age we cannot learn?

For humans may be decked in clothes of wolves;
And lambs be dressed in lion’s fearsome furs.
Thus, sense is tricked and problems are unsolved.
Landscapes etched, yet details seem quite blurred.

It looks like one,it feels like one,it speaks;
Yet from these words, does human feeling leak?

Vertigo by Alice Oswald

photo0189https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/may/11/vertigo-by-alice-oswald

 

 

May I shuffle forward and tell you the two minute life of rain

Starting right now lips open and lidless-cold all-seeing gaze

When something not yet anything changes its mind like me

And begins to fall

In the small hours

And the light is still a flying carpet

Only a little white between worlds like an eye opening after an operation

Cause of death 100

animal cute kitten cat
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

He kept his tongue in his cheek too long so he couldn’t eat
Starved to death

She  had her head screwed on the wrong way
Lack of light

He wouldn’t wear his glasses so fell down a well
Unconscious suicide or vanity led to error

She wore shoes that were too small and died of untreated corns
Died of stupidity or poverty

His brain got stuck on the underground as his head fell off his body.
The glueless disease

She wore a yellow bikini on the beach which attracted a lot of wasps
Need I say more?
Died fighting as men wept

She was baking bread but got into the oven and was roasted with a potato
Bad luck.Only do one thing at a time
Died of hyperactivity and lack of concentration

He was writing a blog post and got sad as it seemed too poor
Then he drowned his sorrows [ and himself]
Moral: meet a few pals on their blogs

My book

b_makoyanum_2018-4b_makoyanum_2018-5I have been making a Kindle book
The formatting has not come  out as I expected
I may be able to edit it next week but it has about 300 poems!
If you would like to know where you can get this book  for £2.50 please leave a comment
For my next book  I am taking advice  so it will look better and have a table of contents

I will roar,cats

6330760_f260

How to format oneś own kindle book
How to bend and never seem to stoop
How to make an omelette look well done
How to change your life and when itś done
How to  smile when dying in a nook

How to live  a life on noone´ś hook
How to chatter to a wraith or spook
How to kill a nun with dirty looks
How to end a battle ´fore it’ś done
I´ḿ a doormat

How to be a gracious and good cook
How to enjoy marriage with a crook
How  to  be alone when noone comes
How to  cook a sausage with burnt thumb
How to be a saint  with your own shrine
How to be  my husband when he died
Lifeś no chore,Kat.

how

Stan meets the postman

cats and newspapers

Stan was brushing his sturdy tomcat Emile by the front window when he saw the postman coming up the path.This was a surprise as it was eight o’clock in the evening,though it was still quite light.He opened the door.
Goodness me,they are making you work hard” he murmured sympathetically to the weary looking postman.
Well,if I don’t do what they want there are 2.5 million unemployed people out there all seeking work” he said in a deep guttural voice.
I like your beard,cried Emile.And your moustache.
Do you like my new hat, asked the postman politely.
Yes,very much said the little cat.
Well,I have to wear it as I am a Conservative Jew.
I have never been quite sure what a Conservative Jew is,said Stan
And I have never been sure why the Church of England is international,replied the tired man wearily
Neither have I said Stan.It seems illogical.
He gave the postman some tea in a paper cup so he could drink it before he went any further.
Can I use your bathroom,he called to Stan who was admiring a few early daffodils.
Of course you can… it’s just at the top of the stairs.
When Arthur the postman came out he thanked Stan
Nowadays since all the public conveniences are no longer there it’s hard to find a lavatory and when you work a 12 hour day you do get to need a leak.
Yes,said Stan.I frequently have people using the loo…. or failing that you can go behind the hedge.
Just like me,thought Emile.I often go behind the hedge.I also take lady cats right to the back of the hedge for the purpose of lovemaking.
Have you ever made love under a hedge,Emile asked Arthur.
Or is it forbidden by your Mosaic Law?
Well,said Arthur,we can make love anywhere at all.But we have to be sure it is real love and not just us pretending to love someone in order to get something out of them.
That seems wise,said Stan.You seem a really wise man.
Yes,I did do a lot of studying till I lost my job as a University lecturer and had to work as a postman.But it does give me time to meditate.
And what is your advice to other humans,purred Emile.
Well,I’ll just offer you one thought,Don’t exploit others for self gratification and if you feel suicidal please tell someone or phone the Samaritans.
And if you do go ahead I advise you to burn your diaries,letters and other private writing…look at poor Sylvia Plath,How could she have been so stupid.Everything she ever wrote,even on the paper napkin at dinner was collected and published by her almost ex-husband.We seem to know more about her than anyone who ever lived.
You have a good point there,said Stan.
I work for the Samaritans one day a week and Emile sits by me and purrs to keep me happy.
You seem a good man,said Arthur.Then all of a sudden he disappeared… leaving just a smile in the air like the Chesire Cat.
Oh,my sweet Lord,Stan murmured.Was that who I think?
Yes,said Emile.I saw the heavenly host behind him singing
Why did he call here?
We’ll just have to wait and see… but I shall cut up my diary tomorrow and delete my journal from the computer.I don’t want to cause scandal after I die.
No,said Emile,just cause scandal while you are alive by taking yet another mistress.
You little devil,Said Stan
And then Stan and Emile both chuckled as they went back into the house.And Stan resumed brushing Emile and mused over the visitation whilst forgetting he had not cooked the dinner for his hardworking wife Mary.Luckily Mary is very patient

Play with  all us sinners now

b_makoyanum_2018-3Hi Furry,   love your   romanesque ;the bard is with me
Nursed were  you on Mum’s venom
So you  use a hooter to alarm us.
Sing oh layeeeh aye, tease and  have fun with  God
Play with  all  us sinners now
And   at the  sea shore let us take  our last breath
With the shells and the sand let us rest
As the ocean moves with  the  moon and the stars
And all is one
For ever and ever
Amen

 

 

 

Thomas Hardy on poetry

Wakehurst place mike flemming
This photo belongs to and was made by Mike Flemming

https://www.quotes.net/quote/57977

 

Poetry is emotion put into measure. The emotion must come by nature, but

the measure can be acquired by art.

 

 

 

:

 

Style:MLACHICAGOAPA

“Thomas Hardy Quotes.” Quotes.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2018. Web. 23 Aug. 2018. <https://www.quotes.net/quote/57977>.

Like flowers fade, from summer clothes we part

The light of lamps and candles warms the heart
The sun is low in August, wondrous sky
Autumnal  shades of red  cause no remark

Like flowers fade, from summer clothes we part
We thought the sun would stay, .we told a lie
The light of lamps and candles helps the heart

Yet in my breast I feel a pain quite sharp
Have I any hope for future life?
Autumnal  shades of red on leaves will start

The language of my sorrow,I shall parse
Why can’t I  a woman have a wife?
The light of lamps and candles stays the heart

Correlation is confused with cause
We are all neurotic as we strive
Autumnal  shades of red  so bright  so right

Is God dead  or  is  he cold, unloved?
See the beggars dying in his dust
The light of lamps  in windows I’m outside
Hollows out my life;  with  truth I lie

 

 

A letter from Button

1,New Rd
Button
Suffolk
IPS0 0NO
UK
Dear Annette
I meant to write before but seeing you kept mentioning rubbish I had wondered if I should prune my blog and leave only the best poems here.However it is hard for me to decide,I don’t even remember many

Photo0187

I find I have to write a lot of so-so stuff before my mind and heart get working.It’s like exercise.But your letter was so funny,  it cheered me up.What a pity we live so far apart.
Maybe we could hang out on Google Mail!I have no idea what it means,do you?
I miss getting letters with handwriting on them.Wondering whose it might be etc.Why don’t we do that? It would be  very pleasurable to see your unique writing on an envelops
I had problems with my homework too.I decided to do Double Maths at A level as it would not take so much time up and then I could read novels.I didn’t know why or how we should do Lit Crit yet the English teacher cried when I was not down for A level.I do regret my error as it is a great sociial handicap although my optician who is Jewish says it’s no problem to them to have an intellectual wife.Still I am a bit too old to try another culture as I might mortally offend a hundred people at a stroke, and vice versa
I can see now what a blessing it might have been to read all the great writers and get paid to do it but curiosity also led me into maths as well.To be honest it was somewhat boring for a long time until we reached the higher slopes.Ah, well
Life goes so quickly.I’m reading Plath’s Journals and I see how she worried away so much of her time.That is a big mistake.Use worry for energy
Too much for girls to decide too rapidly when they are so gifted yet also want a family.And her psychoanalyst was not fully qualified
It seems to me the therapist “sold” her a story
I feel deprived of her later work.What a wonder it might have been
I look forward to hearing from you
With love

Mary, Emile and Stan’s old robin

Stan in Neasden

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Mary woke up on Tuesday feeling dazed.She had been dreaming of Arnold,her student boyfriend.so sweet and shy.
I wonder where he is now, she thought.Then she recalled he was  in fact a world famous cancer researcher.She hoped he had found a shy sweet partner>
Emile was yowling on the landing despite the large bowl of Superior Cat Food  he was standing next to by the bookshelf
I believe that people and animals like not just to eat, but to be fed,Mary  thought.Stan used to make the dinner but he always wanted her to serve.Emile would  eat his food after she stroked him.But who would stroke, Mary?This was a hard and topical  question because Mary had stopped eating.However, as she was quite large, she could live for a few weeks on water only.So she mused
Mary put on a pair of purple trousers and a  lomg lavender coloured top.She gazed into the mirror wondering why 3 hairdressers had failed to help her style   her fair hair.

Now,she recalled Arnold was a  Russian Jew by inheritance though he had lived in the USA all his life until taking up research into cancer at the ancient university Mary attended.If she had married Arnold she could have pretended to be religious,converted and then worn  a wig.
Annie came running upstairs.
Whatever are you doing,she yelled.It’s 11 oclock! Her make up was melting despite being Max Doctor’s All Day Creme Mousse
I was wondering if I could find a Jewish man who would marry me, purely legally, just so I could wear a wig.
What a  load of tripe,Annie retorted.No wonder you’ve had no breakfast.If the man was religious he could not marry a lapsed Christian. Or an agnostic.
If  you want a wig just go online.
You have no imagination,Mary answered,I spend half my time wondering what would happen if I did A,B or C.And what I might wear
And then you do D,Annie joked merrily.Or X.
Where are you going in purple trousers,she continued.You should not wear them at your age.
Do purple trousers have a meaning,asked Mary.I got them in Windsmoor’s sale for £12.
I refrained from buying a jersey jumpsuit as it looked like a burkini and I am a bit nervous now of racists coming into the open.
Very sensible ,Annie told her.I bet the French are jealous because Muslim women and certain Jewish women don’t get skin cancer nearly as often as Christian or agnostic English women.Should we convert?
I don’t think they would like it if it were only to save ourselves from cancer,Mary mused.
True,said Annie,dully

IMG_0042
Mary felt hot so they went into the kitchen and made some tea.Annie was wearing snakeskin pyjamas and black patent shoes.
Do you sleep in those pyjamas,Mary asked?
Oh,no.These are day pyjamas or leisure suits ,Annie smiled.They are comfy.You can get them in the market for £2.
Mary heard a strange noise.Stan ,her late spouse ,appeared in the kitchen carrying a big leather bag,
Hello,he grinned.I’ve just come to say I have bought a  detached  house in Ealing.
But you are dead,Mary whispered thoughtlessly
Yes,I am a ghost but I have bought the house via Dave.I paid cash.
Why Ealing,Mary asked suspiciously
I like  that song,Neasden and it’s quite  near on the North Circular.And Ealing is healing!
So that’s where you’ve been while I have been grieving,Mary said.On the North Circular  Road enjoying Willie Rushton’s songs as you drive
And besides, I want to re-marry and get a wig.
Well,you can get the wig,Stan told her handing her £4,000 in cash from his pocket.But don’t get married until I am in heaven
When will that be,the ladies asked.
Dunno,he cried.It’s such  fun in Purgatory where the ladies are naughty but not actually evil.
And so say all the men.Ah,men

Lancashire talk: Thi said wi can learn Greek next year

1. “Lewk, it’s orver thur, on’t turble.” (Look, it’s over there, on the table)

2. “It woh crackin’!” (It was great)

3. “That’s a canneh nortion.” (That’s a good idea)

4. “She woh raht bonneh!” (She was really pretty)

5. “I’m gorn to’t shop fo’t bah sum bread

h

https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/fettle

Eeh, it were right crackin’ at school t’day
Wot wur tbey sayin’ this time?
Thi said wi can do Greek next year
You’re not doin’ Greek
Why not,our Mam
Ye can’t even spek English
Why,  am I not canny enough?
No, we don’t spek English eether
Well, ye shud a thought eh that before y’ad me
Ye mean only  people with BBC eksents can bear childern?
Well, we reckoned if we learnt English we’d lose our desire
F’wat, Mam
F’ that! Ye know… It, ye get what ah mean
No,Mam.Can you not spell it our a bit more?
Spell it out, te dad would tan me hide!
Still he must a dunnit,Mam
I dunno, it wer dark.Mebbe it wer the cat, ah thought
Surely the cat’s not mi  dad, is  he?
It weren’t this cat, it wer another called Billy.
Well, how come I’m human?
You think ye are human, but  am telling ye,ye got  t’cat’s eyes
Just his eyes? How abaht his whiskers
Don’t be so daft, our Kath,Ye’ve got his hair
But only on my head so far.Willa bi changin’ into a cat as ah mature?
Wi’ll have te wait and see.Put ‘t kettle on.We need some tea.
Why, what difference will that make now.I’m a cat,I’m a cat…. oh, what’ll  ‘et nuns say  ‘et Convent when ah tellum?
You keep away from ‘et Convent~
Why, our Mam?
Do as I tell you.Never confide in a nun
Well,Ah shan’t let ‘et cat fettle me.Ah’m not that daft
Well, yi can’t do Greek and that’s final
Kyrie Eleison,Kyrie Eleison
Wot’s that?
Oh, nothin’ at all
Christie Horizon
For God’s sake speak English!

I love eating ices on the pier

I love eating ices on the pier
If the weather is as hot as Mars
I watch cats and  look for  any near

I love eating burgers as I leer
Eating cookies; hanging out in bars
I love eating ices on the pier

 
I am a  hazard judged severe
I do somersaults in front of cars
I watch  cats and  look for  any near

Yet I go to church and God revere
I love English lessons where we parse
I love eating chips on Southend pier
I hope when I am judged I will appear
Pure as  golden nuggets  are in Wars
I watch  cats and  look  for  one round  here

I wear no sunscreen,I just smoke cigars
The King has  had me labelled as bizarre
I love eating ices on the pier
I watch cats and  men and any seers

Flu as you could be spun by

animal ape banana cute
Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com

We three kings with lorry with car
Well, leopards watched their socks in sight
O little Wall  round Bethlehem. please do not tell lies
Wraith of our fathers living will
Love your neighbour and an elf
Woo as you would be won by.
When  firey eyes are smiling
A herd is my weapon
I  walked in the ally of  the ladder of wrath
Please make me taste but not bet
Deat God,I have lost my way.Dear Person try Google Traps

Boring people… why are we/they like that?

  1. 67bcd192d7989e1ea2e99132adfb453e-england-funny-signs1http://uk.businessinsider.com/habits-of-boring-people-2017-7/#boring-people-cant-make-others-laugh-3

Extract:

“Good conversationalists don’t have to say the right thing, they just have to say something the other person can feed off of. Conversations are like a game of catch and if you don’t throw that ball back, game over

The more I knew, the less I liked

I did not love him though I tried
The more I knew, the less I liked
He only talked about the News
Telling me his fascist views
So he was boring.

He never took me out to eat
Gave me tinned pies of dubious meat
He asked to see me in the nude
I thought that was extremely rude
And he was boring

I cooked him a perfect meal
Bought some mace and spices real
I made him chips and chicken curry
He gulped it down; he choked, why hurry?
He seemed so boring

One day he told me he was off
Then he gave a frightful cough
He fell down,  he was quite dead
My cat  bit him on the bed
For he was jealous

I wonder why I’m too polite
I’m on the phone from morn till night
I cannot end the  boring chat
I must be mental, how is that?
Am I  too passive?

So if you phone, me tell me News
Tell me  why the kitten miaows
Tell me funny tales and jokes
Give me your cigars to  smoke
We  must be human

Ah don’t know Dad.

When  ah got ‘ome he said
Put wood in th’ hole
I didn”t got to College to learn to talk like that,I shouted
Whur did ye go to?
Lady Target’s Bowl
So what are you mitherin’ us about now
They don’t say mitherin’  down there
That’s their loss
My,. you sound like Richard Dimbleby
Who he?
Well, let’s say  he never went to Lady Target’s
Why not!
It was only for women.
How sexist <Give is a barmcake, our Kath.
Here y’are,Dad.
Ye’ve not buttered it.
Ye never said
Am sayin now
Oh,put the lid on it
Why not put a cork in it?
Close the door on  it
See ye can talk proper,after all.
So wood in th’ ole is improper?
You sound like Fowlers Modern English Usage
Who’s he when he’s at home?
He must be proper
Like some verbs?
Ah did   learn Latin in Church at Mass
D’ye think God would like that? Ye should be prayin’ Kath
It was prayin’ in Latin
So God  likes Latin?
Adveniat Regnum Tuum
Sicut in Coelo et in Terror
I’ll seek it anywhere!
Fiat Voluntas Tuas
Notre pere, qui est Hosiah
That’s  not right!
Au ciel de ma maman, je t’adore.
So is it wrong?
Not in fuzzy logic.
I didn’t send you to Uni to learn  fuzzy logic
That’s true but we Iearned it by osmosis
Ae ye kiddin’?
Aye,I am.I learned it from Professor Blogge
Ah’ll kill  ‘im
That’s a sin
Who’re you,Saint Peter ?
Get thee hence
Gi’ us a nicker
Be careful. The PC police are outside
What, a b$gger
There are  two!

Manchester City United

1. Saying/ word: Barm

Meaning: Bread roll

2. Saying/ word: Put wood in th’ole

Meaning: Shut the door

3. Saying/ word: Corporation pop

Meaning: Water

4. Saying/ word: It’s cracking flags

Meaning: it is so hot outside that stone pavings are breaking

5. Saying/ word: Use yer loaf

Meaning: Think for yourself

6. Saying/ word: I’ve not got out fort do

Meaning: I don’t have anything to do

7. Saying/ word: A’v cum b’out any money

Meaning: I’m afraid I haven’t got any cash on me today

8. Saying/ word: Stop skriking

Meaning: Stop crying

Bury

selective focus photography of manchester city sports bottle
Photo by Ahmed Aqtai on Pexels.com

1. Saying/ word: Ratchet

Meaning: Cool

2. Saying/ word: Mitherin’

Meaning: Annoying/pestering

3. Saying/ word: Wot you sayin’?

Meaning: Hello, do you have anything interesting to say?

4. Saying/ word: Proper reet good

Meaning: That is very good

5. Saying/ word: Give us a nicker

Meaning: Please may I have a pound

Self-deception  shields us from our doubt

Between the wish for  changlessness and thrill
We seldom will be satisfied for long
Neither is controlled by human will
As into  stormy life, we all are flung

Self-deception  shields us from our doubts
We choose to pre-select what we will see.
Pretend to know what our life’s  all about

As in little boats ,we ride a stormy sea.

Then  later we choose danger for its spice
And with daring climb the mountain with no ropes
We resist the offer of    advice
Till ,with broken bones, we sadly mope.
Reality’s too little or too much
So ,on our path, our hearts will often lurch

The skin on my arm

I see your writing on this birthday card
I am sad
As I hold  out the card , I see the skin on my arm
Looks decorative  like sand and shingle as the tide flows back
And surges  up again.There are patterns on my skin
I could devote my life to finding the right equation
A wave equation
Or topology? Ribbed rubber  like old sheaths
Stitched together by the wind and sun
I might put paint on them and sell my arm at auction
You’d have to buy me as well
And feed me.I am a food avoidant personality
It’s the latest, it’s  a  new disorder
I live on weetabix and cheese
Chips with salt, no fish
It’s a wonder I have a skin at all
But if I say.no
You have to  believe me

Exactly what he said

Exactly what he said,we can’t recall
The software  that he left has uninstalled
Not  by any human agent here
Allow the dread and do not turn from fear
We know just  how he overcame St Paul

On a journey Paul heard a fierce call
Why do you hate Jesus and his toil?
Bitter is the blood and taste of gall
Demons ugly from  old trees will hear
Exactly what he said,

Give yourself  but only God gives all
Do you believe these narratives enthrall?
Jesus, symbol,suffering, human, here
Every human  swims among their tears
Everybody  suffers, must endure
Even in the magic Shopping Mall
Exactly, what he said?
Oh.God is dead.

 

 

 

The Anniversary

  • Sex,love,cats and St ValentineStan was wearing his best suit,topped by a denim apron, and wad polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth ,as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife.Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.
    On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,
    “I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
    “That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.
    “Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”
    “Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
    “Of course you may,my angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
    “I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”Suddenly the doorbell rang.”Who’s this?”It was Annie,their next door neighbour.
    She was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat.
    “Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In
    her hand was a huge box of chocolates.
    “Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not
    going on your bike,are you?”
    “No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
    “Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
    Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
    “Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
    On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.
    So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
    Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.
    “There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,
    “Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
    Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting
    “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
    “Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
    “I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?”
    “No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
    “I mean for a pudding?”
    “Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
    “Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my meat.”
    He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
    “Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
    “Oh,Stan,this looks interesting.I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
    “It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.
    “Whatever do you mean?”
    “I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
    “Yes,quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
    “Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
    “Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
    “Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
    “Je ne parle pas Francais.”
    “Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”
    “Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
    Ist sein mutter immer krank?”

    photo0189

Our iron habitat

May I  have your seat I’m feeling odd?
I recognise you,you’re Almighty God
Where’d’ye get that suit and that top hat?
Oh,Leonard Cohen wanted one like that
Do not strike me with your iron rod

God is inside , lives in  holy  blood
We  connect,respect and so we should
Jesus is the beggar ,cold and sad
Give her help in our iron habitat
May I  have your seat ,  Lord Krishna said?

Love and hate would toss us  if they could
Get perspective, rise above the flood
Climb the mountain pikes, abhorr the flat
We need to change positions, where’re ye  at?
Another point of view won’t drive you mad
May I  have your seat ,I looked at God

 

 

Loving each other:science and poetry

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https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/poetry/2016/06/love-affair-between-science-and-poetry

Extract

Frontiers in Neurology reported that the expression of science through poetry could enrich and better kids’ understanding of science education, in schools. According to the research, it encouraged use of their imagination to deconstruct and reconstruct their learned knowledge. Critiquing and analysing thus could facilitate learning.

Emily Dodd, aficionado and writer of scientific poetry and screenwriter for CBeebies science programs tells me: “There’s something to be said for communicating science creatively and seeing how much knowledge is retained or if people are interested enough to look for more information afterwards.” What she wants to know is why we lose that desire to understand and how we can bring back that desire and the joy that comes with discovery.

This very tendency to reduce things to their minute components is science’s premise and so it is sometimes criticised for losing sight of the wholeness and larger human meaning. John Keats, who trained as a surgeon and apothecary before committing himself to poetry, famously said:

“There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:

We know her woof, her texture; she is given

In the dull catalogue of common things.”

This roughly translates as science ruins the beauty of things by dissecting it into its components. It’s worth noting, though, that Keats was a part of the Romantic era wherein poets were confronted by the Industrial Revolution and the idea that science and technology would pave the way for the future was for them, terrifying.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe is perhaps the biggest exception to the norm.  A German, and born in 1749, he was a writer and a scientist but he always regarded his contribution to the science of colour far greater than any literature he wrote. His work includes poetry written in a variety of metres and styles, prose and verse dramas; memoirs, an autobiography, literary criticism, papers on botany, anatomy, and colour and four novels.

One of his biggest passions was the study of clouds and in an act of pronounced love and respect between a poet and scientist, he wrote a poem about each of the different classifications of clouds (nimbus, cirrus, cumulus and stratus) and an ode to the scientist who devised them, Luke Howard, as a declaration of his admiration for Howard’s scientific skills.

“To find yourself in the infinite,
You must distinguish and then combine;
Therefore my winged song thanks
The man who distinguished cloud from cloud.”