Everyone is bleeding

Everyone is bleeding but we won’t stop fighting wars
We even sell our weapons and the torture tools make gold
Europe a disaster for more than several hundred years

We will not watch the News as this sort of stuff’s a bore
My heart is beating faster and I’m feeling freezing cold
Everyone is bleeding but we won’t stop fighting wars

We’re defenceless little creatures with wicked central core
With our many nuclear weapons, maybe we are over-bold
Europe courts disaster for more than several hundred years

Jesus hangs defenceless outside the liquor store
I wonder how much longer those Roman nails will hold
Everyone is bleeding but we won’t stop fighting wars

The pain of living here is that our swollen hearts will tear
God picks up a paperclip, his lips are cold and closed
Europe a disaster for more than several hundred years

Now the Day of Judgement comes, we stand arrayed in rows
The Jews are singing Kaddish while the tortured children freeze
Everyone is bleeding but we won’t stop fighting wars
Civilised disaster for the last two thousand years

Anaphylaxis and other geometries

https://youtu.be/_bCPl-e9rag

Where are you,dear? the husband cried in vain
Anaphylaxis is not a maiden’s name
Files don’t carry axes nor are axes filed
I’ve had just one attack but it was quite mild


The risks of drugs, the cure that kills or maims
The cursed allergy, its deathly fame
The perils of the life of solitude
As Baez sings and Dylan’s voice intrudes

The fear that whispers through the widow’s ear
Never shall another lover disappear
The paradox of double negative
The logic of the heart,Pascal will give

The heavy doze, the silent home and place
Noone sees the tears, the shame, the face

Cliches for all

bbf78-6395086_ec46b81f11_m

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-squeaky-wheel/201306/the-seven-hidden-dangers-brooding-and-ruminating

It was the best of times, it was  the  worst of times in a very real sense.
Mary  dreamed Stan was in heaven enjoying the company of Wittgenstein,Jesus and Pascal , not to mention Lady Jane Grey Ann of Cleves,Juliet,Cleopatra and an angel.
At  least  at this point in time he can’t sleep with them  ,she thought as she woke up.Though did that matter? Can men be faithful and monogamous?
Look at Leonard Cohen.Was he better off flitting from flower to flower? Was he so stunning that women threw themselves at him and he could not resist?Sometimes people are actually afraid of intimacy or feel life is short and want some new experiences.Was he a wolf? It t akes one to know one
It was indeed  almost the worst of times when Mary remembered she had no food in the house except cat food for Emile.He was all she had now as  her daughter Lyra lived in Australia and Stan was in heaven, she hoped.
Here I am, she thought, pondering unanswerable questions and not looking after myself .It is probably  best to err on the side of buying food and going out rather than lying in the bed wondering  if life has any inherent  meaning. or  if we must create our own.
Even discussing that with someone else would be better.But men folk don’t want to discuss serious topics with their lovers.
It was an even worse time when she recalled a man who once  loved  her leaving her because she asked him if he knew what post-modernism was one night after going to the cinema to see a comedy.She realised then that she would have to play a part,To act like a woman.So far it was but moderately successful owing to her myopic view of life
If only I had kept quiet, she told herself,I could be  lying beside  him now enjoying a few kisses and hugs and asking him how to light  the electric fire.Still ,there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip
Now then, said a  loud voice.Stop   ruminating and get  up. One stitch in time saves nine.
Who are you to say that to me, she called nervously ?
She wondered of stress  had driven her round the bend.She had begun reading a book which said mental illness in not an illness like flu.
It is a reaction to bad events and  other life strains.
It doesn’t matter who I am,just do as I say, came the answer
Mary recognised the voice.It was her dad who had died when she was 9.
Dad, she called, why are you here now?
Because Jesus told us to  love our family, he revealed pleasantly.
Why now after all these years? she persisted.
I have missed you.
I always did have a bad sense of direction,he told her.But do as I say.You won’t recover easily if you never get up.Stan is here but he is busy cleaning the gold cutlery for an angel.
Alright, but I never knew there was cutlery up there, she murmured as she put on her  new clothes.She had bought some purple trousers and two new jumpers.One was pink and one  was teal.The trousers were exceptionally comfortable  being  in a last years’ sale  by a famous label..She  then found some Weetabix in  the cupboard and some long life milk.As she drank her tea she admired the acer’s brilliant red leaves.
Almost too bright, she thought.It’s  due  to the hot September.Plants are affected by their environment and so are we.Especially by bad or hot tempered men and women
Poor people may have  more than in the  past but they tend to live in the ugliest areas of the town with no gardens nor parks.
And seeing the better off walk by wearing expensive clothes it is surprising there are not even more muggings.
She recalled seeing  a man with a Rolex watch and gold earrings on  talking on his new iPhone as he wandered through the Mall.I suppose we think everybody else is like us; we don’t mix with  very poor or very rich people on the whole.Unless we are one of those two types.
Mary went outside and found a neighbour wheeling in her bins.
Thanks ,Tom, she cried.I wondered who it was.I am very grateful.What is post modernism,by the way?Nobody will tell me.
Emile was watching from the window sill.
I knew it was Tom, he mewed.
But you didn’t tell me,Mary replied.
You didn’t ask.
Tom wandered off ,while Mary admired the autumn trees lining the road.Tom turned  back and looked at her but she didn’t notice.
Time for coffee, she muttered and went inside again.She was embroidering a  table mat which said “Rumination is for the birds”.Where it had come from was a puzzle.But it may be a good thought

And so say all of us

The eyes see what we fear or what we need

He thought I was an enemy , he said
The eyes see what we fear or what we need
I gave him love,but hate grew there instead

If you need to hate, try someone dead
Do not say cruel words that make us bleed
He thought I was an enemy , he said

Do not dwell where people hate the good
If they curse, it’s best to pay no heed
I gave him love,but hate welled up instead

Emotions mingle, wanton like fresh blood
Let them be till form can be perceived
He thought I was his enemy , he said


Do not confront the paranoid nor mad
The agony of their minds has them deceived
We give them love,but hate wells up instead

Never take such people into bed
Let them run away, they’ll be relieved.
He mistook me for an enemy , he said
I gave him love and care now I feel bad

Confusion is a pool but not a lake

With words. he pulled some in and pushed some out
He wanted love but still encountered doubts
Should he make commitments then feel trapped?
Should he disappear from lovers’ maps?


He joined an online dating site and smiled
His profile photo strong and slightly wild
He got ten ladies asking for a date
Did they want a lover or a mate?


He gazed upon their photos,felt confused
Did he want a wife or perhaps a muse?
He could not bring himself to use the phone
Spent the evening time at home alone

He fell into obsessive thought and dreams
A new friend may be party to a scheme
Could he trust his judgement or their truth
Soon he lost his temper, gnashed his teeth


Should he seek a therapist for aid?
Was his mind withdrawn or in decay?
Should he join a gym or grow a beard?
Was he what they wanted, what they feared?


In the end he thought his life away
He died in bed alone one autumn day
It does not matter deeply what we choose
But life is more important than these clues

Never store your water in a shoe

Can we change our point of view alone?
What can give perspective to a poem?
Shall I outline what we ought to do?
Shall I sketch the patterns,are you blue?
Move your eyes and you will move your soul
Looking at the men queue for the dole
Do you want to mix the c
olours first
Oh,I drank the water, what a thirst
I shall use my tea and this gouache
Let the colours wander as they splash
Women nursing babies need good food
If you have no children, do not brood
When Hitler went to Munich in a r
age
We got a new perspective of the age
I didn’t go myself for I was framed
I was just encrypted ,it’s no shame
Never use a rubber when you’re wrong
Never kill a blackbird while it sings
Never go to bed with any one
Make it two or three, we need some fun
Never use art pastels on your cheeks

Never use a water jar that leaks
You must be spontaneous as a rule
To produce cartoons, you must be cruel
You must learn techniques and then forget
Never tell the Universe we met.
Remember every line I draw for you
Never store your water in a shoe



Do not ask



Astounded by love’s impact, my tears fell
As if a door was opened up by you
The reservoir of grief, the flooded bell,
The marble on the shore, the hidden view.


I stayed still and by you I was held
In your golden cloud, I felt embraced
You covered me with warmth,I was your child
A candle in the gale,a shining face

I was silent,I was even dumb
They who see a face can not unknow
Love is not a method nor a sum
Nor can logic point the way to go


Do not ask for knowledge or belief
Do not ask reprieve from human grief


Oh,mother

Oh,mother dear wherever have you been
To leave a cat all day is very mean
Emile,I need my freedom now and then
I can’t love Dave but I would like a man
I must go out to buy a handsome coat
Cognac is the colour I love most

Emile cried, whatever do you think
I saw some frogs a-courting in the sink
I was on the draining rack up there
They asked me to avert my amber stare


Are frogs faithful, don’t they just leave spawn?
They are cold towards tadpoles unborn
We saw them by Moss Bank in shallow pools
Mary wonders if all frogs are cruel


Stan came in with his angels right behind
They are tired of heaven, they’ve resigned
Here’s a pin upon which they can dance
Mary was delighted and entranced


Do you need a dinner now you’ve died?
I wouldn’t mind a steak, the old man sighed
Some buttered new potatoes and a fool
Rhubarb or vanilla would be cool


I have done no shopping, Mary cried
I have no money for the food you like
Shall I get a pizza, fish and chips
That will put some colour in your lips


I am only joking, Stanley said
I shall merely visit you in bed
Emile wept with joy to see his Dad
What a spirit, is he going mad?


In came Annie in her long green coat
Her eyes were black and scratched was her throat
I fell into the Croal when eating chips
See the bruises on my purple lips


Never walk on water,Mary screeched
Even when you cross all Southport Beach
Stay away from danger,I’ll ring Dave
He will dress your bruises with his gauze

Annie did not tell them all the truth
She had fallen off the sloping roof


The valued sin

If you need to find the perfect man
Find one who’s a good companion
For as we age we are not acrobats
Preferring to dance slowly as we chat
If you can go further, keep it quiet
Or all your lonely neighbours may cause riots
Very few lack a last faint desire
Eying others in the Oldies’ Choir
But when at home we like to read and talk
Take the cat out for his daily walk
Only jealousy revives the beast
So with a married women flirt at least
There is value in all kinds of sin
Whatever life you choose, you’ll always win

Keep a cat

The writer told me psychopaths love dogs
Those who murder rarely keep a cat
I wonder if a thief might love a frog!
The author told me psychopaths love dogs
Cookbook writers might go the whole hog;
Sad ghouls enjoy the company of bats
The writer told me psychopaths keep dogs
Those who murder never love a cat

She tried to smother me


I dreamed she tried to smother me one night
I had had suspicions with deep roots
I screamed ad yelled and kicked her, as one might


Then she tortured me with brilliant light
As her minions climbed down from the roof
I dreamed she tried to smother me
, alive

She looked so ugly, she gave demons fright
I wished I were a donkey kicking hoof
I screamed and yelled,confused
ten megabytes

Her muscles strong, her grip was over tight
I tried to crash her laptop, no re- boot
I dreamed she tried to smother me last night

I wished I were a tiger with cruel bite
Or God whose name to angels was a proof
I screamed and
shouted 999, please write

She was more sadistic than astute
She gave me pain, this action her debut
I dreamed she tried to cut me off last night
The two pint flask
saved tea, my perfect right

Sculpture as metaphor

Sculpture makes a metaphor look real
We can use more senses than our sight
We see the body hollow where we feel

Seeing, touching,sensing all appeal
If there is sufficient sun and light
Sculpture makes a metaphor look real

We feel it in our gut, how can it steal
The feeling of our innards in the night
We see the metal hollow where we feel

The heart has broken up and disappeared
No more time to love or lust ignite
Sculpture makes a metaphor too real

To admit another’s sorrow makes us fear
Denial as the cock crows ending night
We see the body’s hollow where we feel

Oh, will such bald agony take flight
Can we hold the grief in our insides?
Sculpture makes a metaphor so real
We see the grieving empty and unpeeled

New rules for UK residents


1.You must eat exactly one meal a day.This will make you lose weight, stop shopping, save money and wreck the economy.Thin people cough less
2.You must make your phone accessible to the Government. We mean Us. DC and BJ
3.If you commit a crime and are jailed, you will get a meal on alternate days.You may lose weight
So you can slip through the bars!
4.You will wash your undies once a week.Yes, the same pair.Save water, we sold it to Spain
5.Please do not get hunger pings or pangs while in the street or at home
6.If you feel too hungry, you may have a boiled eel on toast cursing you
7.You can be too thin; it is not illegal.
8.You can’t be too rich anymore… the tax man cometh
9.Please sweep your street and eat any pizzas you find
10.Your cat can eat as much as she likes.So you may eat her leftovers
Not the whole tin
11.Do you swear to fix the roof, the whole roof and nothing but the roof?
12.Please do not eat refugees before we count them.Data matters
13.If the pandemic spreads we will put you all in cages.Like in the USA
14.No pretending to be a twin.Not even a tub
15.Lose weight,pray and soon you will be in Heaven.

Wanted: Disguised spies in each street in Britain.No questions in Nothern Ireland
Just take photos.
Pay £7.00 per week plus bonus at Xmas [ £2.00]


Your Government UK

Human sacrifice

The sacrifice of humans, slain by will
The death instinct, no accident, the kill
Now it’s done more subtly than with fire
We need the help of cunning and of liars
Propaganda,adverts, image, word
Overwhelm our minds till life’s absurd
Inhabited by ghosts of adverts seen
Saturated minds, for soul no room
Who is in and who is out today?
Mainly white and Western on display
I was born without a screen to hand
The radio was old and had a stand
Little drawers where Mother kept her songs
Sonatas,Mozart,Schumann, was it wrong?
We read each other’s faces and our books
Heard Mother playing as we fell asleep
Time and space and peace, a slowed down age
Now we’re full of data and of rage
Father lost so long ago,we weep
Civil discourse takes a lengthy sleep




of overwhelming people with adverts ad cheap credit in Western Socie



We still stand on shifting sands

We walked on sea shores with our mates
Though wide  oceana separate
Now we’re abandoned on the  shores
By  the loves we’ll see no more


We  still stand on shifting  sands
Expecting , needing, helping hands
But most people walk on by
And we’re too afraid to cry

Lost in places we once knew
But recognised by  very few
Our eyes  look out but do not see
Filled by tears we can’t set free

Shall we stay here evermore
Hoping lovers we adored
Are on their way back to their home
As slowly, sadly, we still roam?

The  sturdy walls that bear the sky
Have been shattered from on high
And  feeling smaller than the snails
We hear the long lost sea winds wail

Oh, weep for  him and me, wide seas
Embrace  our souls  in   your salt breeze
See the  crushed and broken shells
Hear the tolling of the bells

A crack, a loud smack

I know that's how death will come, 
Suddenly flying into another orbit when I am photographing flowers
 It's not a gentle transition.
 No-one will know where I've gone. 
One step wrong and I'm off the high wire
 And plunging into the no safety net.
 Flying for a while 
Jumping into hyperspace,spinning electrons 
Startle my wide eyes. 
Transiting the new black sun 
I'm on a double gold helix, 
Spider on her web,
 Knitting furiously
 Into the future heaven on gossamer wings. 
Butterfly goodbye,
I'm off to see the stars.
 And the black holes.
No one will come with me.
 I'm shaking off,evaporating into mist.
 I'm a flying saucer on a circus mission.
 I can't say no to a new invitation. 
Make it fast and break with tradition.
 Time is passing smoothly till that break In the music,
I've been transmuted into a different key 
someone else will play me on their violin
 I'm a tune, I'm a thought, I'm a whisper in your vision. 
Goodbye,darling.
I'm under orders Ready to leave for my performance
 On the electric carpet.
 Death dancing to a tune on a violoncello,
 Arpeggionne sonata 
I'm playing your words upside down
 In a new foreign translation,
 Accompanied by solo artists,ice cracking 
I'm going in.
It's too sudden. 
I'm flying. 
Spinning faster to amuse the clowns, 
too many ups and no downs. 
I'm going right out of orbit
 I've broken the pull of gravity,
 And fly with pure equanimity
 Into my future life,
 I'm off at some moment
An instant,a crack,a loud smack
That was me passing

v

When I saw with no intent to look


I love Picasso, it’s his line,you know
How he evokes the movement fast or slow
The sundered parts arranged in a new form
The image still and yet depicting storms


The unexpecting vision threw me down
My mind was blown and I lay on the ground
I heard no sound except for music lite
For I was in a shop,not an art site


I did not think I’d see great art in there
My fences bypassed by such beauty bare
The light of art burns into human souls
May shatter or fragment, create new wholes



Noone ever knew the blow I took
When I saw with no intent to look


The angst and joy of life

The clock electric does not need to tick
The seconds pass unheard by any ear
If you watch, the hands don’t seem to move
Eternal is the memory of love


So my life is passing as I write
I see the seconds hand move fast as light
The memories stored inside my brain,my mind
Will influence all I do, will make designs


When this my heart stops ticking like a clock
The cells of all my body run amok
Who will mourn for me when I am gone?
The angst and joy of life will soon be done


The golden numbers move in patterns bright
The sun defeats the ogres of the night


Mary Adair 2

Instead of going to the pub to meet men,Mary went on FB and changed her name
Unfortunatly her name was also changed on the Page where she was insulted and every where she had been.
I have learned something useful, she said to Dave who had come because Emile had rung 999
Better if you had not visited their page,he told her sensibly, then Emile would be happy
Yes, she said,each side is as bad as the other,You must either totally agree or be called a vicious
Monster.There is no space for debate so why even try?
Just then the phone rang
Hello, it’s Noreen ,she heard
Mary, I am so happy you have changed your name
Are you,Mary asked in suprise
Yes,my grandparents were Scottish and none of the relatives are left,
so as you are partly Scottish too it’s lovely you chose to emphasis that
Well, stone the crows,Mary thought.How unpredictable life is.And how one unexpected event led to a good talk with Noreen
Well, since Stan is not here,I’d better do some housework. she told Dave
On the hand if Annie and you,Dave, accept my untidiness, why should i worry?
After all it’s wonderful finding books I had forgotten I had.Not to mention 30 pairs of tights and my reading glasses
Emile looked at her turquoise glasses
Can I have some reading glasses Mother?
Why? demanded Mary angrily
Then they will read stories to me as they can already read
Mary wondered how to explain to a cat that the lenses of humans’ eyes become less flexible
with age like their minds, perhaps
Then she thought of Donald Trump who needs King Canute
to explain that no human is omnipotent and that viruses are unable to distinguish between him and
another old person even Joe Biden
Why the family of the first virus might have relatives near Joe.
But how do viruses communicate?They have no voices,eyes or hands
Might it be they live in another reality? Do they have minds withour havig brains?
Or brains without minds
Dave ran out of the house wondering how to help Mary
And so would all of us!

As the red sun dies

The glare of yellow street lamps on the snow
The thick green hedge where cats curled up to die
The ice and frost above, the worms below.

The tarmaced road,the sidewalks, seem to glow
No pleasure comes from neon lights so high
Oh, stare of yellow street lamps on the snow

As the red sun dies, our blood won’t flow
Take an aspirin, calm’s a good ally
The ice and frost above, the soul below

Bare my feet and numb are all my toes
My socks are holed.I’m darned if I know why
Oh, glare of yellow street lamps on the snow

My nails are thick like monsters’ fearsome claws
Podiatry is hard to get,I’ve tried
The ice and frost above, the souls sleep slow

The world is puzzled, minds are all awry
There’s nothing in a shop but rot to buy
The glare of yellow street lights on the snow
The ice and frost above, the dead below.