https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/articles/68755/does-poetry-have-a-social-function

“I hope this does not sound like an exercise in ambiguities. If so, let me add another: one of poetry’s chief aims is to illumine the walls of mystery, the inscrutable, the unsayable. I think poetry ought to be taught not as an engine of meaning but as an opportunity to learn to live in doubt and uncertainty, as a means of claimingindeterminancy. Our species is deeply defined by its great surges of reason, but I think it high time we return to elemental awe and wonder. Such a position is necessary to our communal health.

I try to teach my students the full magnitude of what can happen during the reading of a poem. The readerly self, if the music and strategies of the poem are a success, fades away to assume the speaker’s identity, or the poem’s psychic position. Once a reader has fully internalized the poem’s machinations, she collects a chorus within her and is transformed. This ritual generates empathy and widens our humanity. These might seem like grand dreams, but it is just such a belief in the power of poetry that spurs my pen to action, whether I am getting paid or not. “

Hope and the infinite brain of being interact
Faith  is for the forlorn
Faith is not scorn
Goodness  is   always approximate
Do bad and become bad.
Fractals made my home infinite
Kill yourself  with kindness, instead of others.
Cruelty runs faster but blinder.
Armed struggles are too weighty with meaning.
To eat or not to eat when you are taking antibiotics
Pause before screeching or swearing
Always get washed before  you go to breed.
Buy a big bed  for when you are  both sulking.
Don’t frisk me.

How white and blue together recollect us
to the summer sky and the imagined swallows
darting in exquisite geometry
under the great domed space of the heavens,
like the Basilica in Constantinople
containing and giving space.
And how I held you for a moment that was infinite
and then you were gone like an angel fearing enchantment
into some finite boundaried world

My problem is strident conceit
In how I  can bear twisted feet
I never wear sandals
Nor go out with vandals
And I always  say,love ain’t defeat.

I think pride is a valuable trait
When finding an other to play
For  the humble get nowhere
Don’t even go there
Play your piano today.

Deceit seems a very good line
When trying to find husbands online
But when they set eyes on you
What on earth will you do?
Tell the truth or commit a great crime

Killing with kindness is right
As only God knows you’re a blight.
What people think of you
May not be perfectly true.
Pretend you can’t see without light.

Aggression is there in our genes
But too much can often demean
Save it for dust
Then wipe if you must
Smile for you’ll always be clean

Envy is a wonderful gift
The race always goes quite a drift
So envy no single one,
Envy the whole or none.
Keep walking and  may  you be swift

Rage may boil kettles  of acid
A fact quite unknown to the placid
Then when you drink tea
Scalded you’ll be.
Derive your own truth from the asses.

At first there is a gaping wound of loss
But our blood clots and seals the wound  up tight
Any movement brings a painful cost

After time and months of pain have passed
The scab has formed ,our body does what’s right
At first there was a gaping wound of loss

Yet if we’re struck, the wound reopens fast
We must  be careful not to enter fights
Any movement brings a painful cost

Easing is a gradual,lonely task
And even then the pain can take a bite
In where was a gaping wound of loss

Every death  creates another ghost
But not an evil angel of the night.
Any movement brings a painful cost.

Let me see your face in dreams tonight
I can’t live without your kindly light
At first there was the sacred wound of loss
Love dies not but carries its own cost

Being home without  your presence dear
Without the warmth  that poured from your blue eyes
Makes me feel invisible right here.

I do not have antipathy to fear
Inevitably   panic rises high.
Drinking tea without  your presence dear

Sharper was the pain that  cut through me
I realised that Death was coming by.
I feel  unreal, while knowing I am here.

Then there is the suffering to believe
So from my mouth I gave a stuttering sigh
Coming home without  your  care so dear.

Oh, humans can’t escape  the sorrow of deep grief
A sheet of tears fell from my stricken eyes.
I feel my heart was emptied by a thief.

I never asked the question ,tell me why.
I know that all the living  come to die.
Being home without  your presence dear
Makes me feel I’m lost and not quite here.

Being a male virgin at 29.
Not being a virgin and wanting to seem like one
Wondering if it is bad for your partner to make love with others  and what to do about it.
Love
Sex
Is love always sexual?
Children and dating for the divorced
Death and desertion in a nutshell
What to wear as an older person on a date.
Whether to perm your hair or shave it off and buy a wig
The price of wigs
Is it worth buying yourself   more makeup?
Does foundation make one look better?
Do men like makeup?
Do women like hairy men?
Do women like men’s beards?
What to talk about on a date if you are a mathematician.
How to conceal  your history from a  lover.
Should I make my house over to my second husband?
Are men after my  house or is it Love?
Will he want me to wash his clothes?

Non-linear algebra and agnosticism
Non-Euclidean geometry and alienation
Losing Base.
Futile non-connection
Over-whelmed by the Other
Atypical dismay.
Disorder matters.
Help  yourself in Theory and Keep Practising
Conned by the words.
Discounting your Finances
Romance and other Tongues.
Moral Sex for Atheists
Sir Rather Clinging Foil, a Thief for Dummies.
89 Ways to avoid connecting with Bothers
65 Ways to make Fiends angry.
90 Ways to Evade Succour.
23 Ways to eat  a Cake twice.
45 Ways to miss Mass.
89 Ways to hope with Grief.
Grief without angst.
Angrier than The Weather.
908 Ways to ask for a Scalp.
765 Ways to  style your hair when feeling morbid..
Hurricanes and how they can curl hair free.
Turn loss into space for growth
Emptiness is not Bad.
The Empty Vest: a widow’s  dishonest life
Don’t wear this under pants: silk  and its care.
Oil yourself with Vaseline :76 ways to Save Your Face
Have your cake then beat it

https://www.thoughtco.com/alienation-definition-3026048

I watch the television with no sound
A  nervous looking man has read the News
Boris Johnson’s getting  out of bounds
The Western wind will get into his troos.

Now there is a football match on grass
The players move like birds fly round about
A man has slipped and landed on his arse
Another one just gave himself a clout

An alien being from another  world
Would be concerned at humans chasing balls.
We should be asking what is  pi when  squared
Or up in Teesdale, visiting High Force.

My loved one wept as  he needed the Sea
To walk along the shore and look for shells.
But  it was much too late and could not be
His heart was failing, punishing his cells.

He  woke and cried for hills to relocate.
The Cleveland Hills  to be in Hertfordshire.
But as I’m only human I could not make
The world amend to fulfil  his desire.

He woke again and told me of his rage
I was the cause because I was his mate
I was too brilliant when we were engaged
And still I am not apt to wash a plate.

Then he whispered, how will you get home?
What will you do when you are all alone?
How will you live when I’m completely gone
Who will make you laugh, my love, my hun?

I said I’d call a cab and get some sleep
Or maybe sit  in silence for a weep
I had to push him off, so he could leap
Into the boat to make that final trip.

I felt another person come to life
Inside of me because I was his wife.
This person knew what I should do that day
I must sing as he  passed clean away.

I

Anything to declare, they  bluntly asked
Gold or silver, drugs stuffed up your ass?
Just war, the shadow answered, that’s my task.

Do you believe a  just war can exist?
You’ll find that out when you have let me pass
Anything  else,  they bluntly, coldly, asked

No, nothing, you can search me if you must.
My declaration,  reason has surpassed
More wars, the figure ranted, that’s my task.

I declare the world is  done and bust
Though Jesus died and  we’ve just been to Mass
What did that do for Hitler, the guards asked?

What we choose has existential risk
As if we  live enclosed in walls of glass
Bombs, the figures chanted, they’re our task.

Shall we let these strange, black figures pass?
War is coming, guns and poison gas
Anything to declare,  the guards  just asked?
Another war and starting it’s unjust

http://www.dictionary.com/e/apostrophes-101/

“The apostrophe causes so much strife in part because it’s the culprit in two of the most commonly confused pairs in English: you’re/your and it’s/its. Possessive pronouns (like your and its) never take apostrophes, but their soundalike friends are contractions that require apostrophes. We all struggle with these when writing and proofreading our work, but here’s a quick trick: try replacing the ’re or ’s with are or is. If the syntax works, then you need the apostrophe; if not, it’s a possessive pronoun. For example, “It’s Sunday” can be written “It is Sunday,” while “The school locked its doors” can’t be written “The school locked it is doors.” Likewise, “You’re late” can be written “You are late,” while “I saw your note” cannot be written “I saw you are note.”

The apostrophe has a number of other lesser-known uses. It can replace omitted numbers (e.g. the class of ’72, the ’20s, etc.) and letters in written pronunciation slang e.g. gone fishin’. It can also be used to indicate plural letters, as in p’s and q’s, two A’s and four B’s, etc.”

Can they not return,those much loved dead
Who leave such empty spaces in our hearts
Which like the hearts of mothers,fathers  bleed?

“Ash to ash” is what the Priests have said
But there is still a soul, a living part
Can they not return,those much loved dead?

Why will I not walk into the dread
Without a map or any kind of chart?
Why not trust the Word when all was said?

And so I linger late, without my  bed
Hoping  for a vision,for a start.
Can you not return,oh, needed dead?

Let us  bless the water and the bread
Bless us all before we too depart.
Why not trust the Word and what was said?

Now the holy banquet is prepared
The vital clue is  all our food is shared.
Can they not return,those much loved dead.
Ease the hearts of  humans as they bleed?

The eye is not a  camera taking shots
Our mind affects  the aspect we  perceive
And what it feels important it allots
Gives grace or  hatred ,causes us to grieve.

When we are afraid ,we see the worst
We see disgrace or ruin as our fate
As if our self  for horror has a thirst
So all the little details we collate

Yet when we  love we see before us joy
The flowers sing, the birds dance in  the air
We see no evil  nor with  hatred toy
All aspects of  our world appear more fair.

We see not what is there,we see our self
To learn ,we must employ our own mind's wealth

Is Boris Johnson going to go back to Turkey, land of his fathers?
Is “May” an English surname? Nuts,I say.
What about “Gove”,did they mean Hove or Grove both  of which are English? Maybe Grave or Wave?
Cameron is a Scottish name as in the song,”The Camerons are coming again,again”
Very vulgar people,they should be sent to the  Outer Zebedees.
Perhaps they spelled Camera wrong! Camera sounds Spanish to me.Don Camera.Where;s your hair-oh?

When you start considering who is a foreigner,I admit I am.My head is a Scandinavian longhead so like my siblings I find it hard to buy a hat.As we are not Jewish,as far as I know,we don’t need hats though I would like a wig for  Xmas.A lot of Irish people have Jewish blood because of the wrecks of the Spanish Armada.Many sailors were Sephardic Jews.No doubt they were looked after by the Irish, who were in fact Picts,Scot,Dots or Whatnots.I am sure mixing genes is a good idea.And what fun it can be for some folk.
Maybe some of us prefer sex without jeans and who am I to stand in my way?
The Selfish Jeans could be a good children’ story for adults.
The Selfish gene by Dawkins is a silly book as Selfishness requires consciousness and choice.But I  know it was for publicity.Should a professor descend to those depths?
I am flummoxed that someone like that is a professor.
Still, it’s a fair game.anyone in Britain could be a  professor if they worked hard enough.
Yet it would be hard to tun a country with 65 million professors and no binmen or women.
When you think about it, the refuse collectors are more important.We can live without Richard Dawkins unless we marry him but rubbish is a health threat.He is bad for me because his imagining all religion is fundamentalist irks me.
I can understand  where he is coming from  and what is wrong with self pleasuring?a woman stabbed her husband because he came into her bedroom while she was enjoying a bit of that.She had locked the door so he thought she had a man in there.
I would prefer a man’s company with no sex to sex by myself.Because friendship is more rich,But I don’t think it is wrong.Maybe if young people were taught about it they would stop joining ISIS and lie all day on their beds.Well,I don’t suppose it takes all day unless you are very old.If you die  in the attempt ,it is nice to go like that.BTW  older men are more likely do die having sex with another woman than with their wife!What does that tell us?
Not much really but don’t go to bed with someone with a bad heart unless you are married to them.

North Korea is acting weird
Donald Trump is to be feared
A bomb went off on a London tube
29 burned,hearts confused

But I only  care about love and fashion
Velvet and leather,they’re my passion
If someone drops a nuclear bomb
I’ll  be dressed with my usual aplomb.

I would have my lover by my side
I’d have held his arm if we’d been fried
I’d be dressed in   wool Fair Isle
On my face a cute little smile.

It takes your mind off politics
What is broken can’t be fixed
So spend your money on new clothes
That is how the economy grows

Though if the end is nigh,dear God,
The economy doesn’t care a sod.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/54308/making-a-fist

I once had an email from a ghost.
I was eating a piece of white toast.
The message was clear.
It said,”I am not here”.
So I replied, “No need to boast.”

I had a text  from  the old one last year
After Xmas,I was full of black beer
It said ,Good4 U
I replied , &U2
Since then , I pretend I’m not here.

I had a letter from  the bank in my hand
When I slipped on a wide elastic band
It  catapulted me too
Regent’s Park Zoo
With the monkeys, what a fine plaice to land.

I forgot to keep my account book filled in
And I spent my last note on some gin
I like being tipsy
And meeting a gypsy
Or if not that one,I’ll make do with his twin.