I wondered how the two of me would be If the sperm had got inside a different egg And my egg was penetrated by a bee Then by sperm whose entry was by bag
I often hum and buzz as I walk out All unknowing of the neighbours thoughts Full of concentration and of guilt Wondering what my other half has bought
One half of me would know no way to change It’s not like making sponges filled with jam Unless the universe were rearranged Then we’d all be in the frying pan
I cannot let this thinking carry on I can be myself and all is one
The old man and the seea were calm as glass The Cafe was surrounded by mixed blooms He was listening to a lady who described The flowers, their colour,name all afternoon
He could not see at all yet was relaxed Indeed he was delighted in the sun I thought blind men were piteous,full of fear That tells you more of me, than of the men
Below the steep cliff path, in ran the sea I can’t imagine how our Airforce fought Barely trained young men went out to war Is Brexit Britain worthy of their Cause?
Now the blind man gazes out to sea Was he one of those who kept us free?
Hollyhocks,delphinium and phlox Foxgloves,cat mint, nettles,near by docks The blind man breathed in air full of wild scent His daughted named the colours now absent
High up on the Kentish cliffs we sat Capel-le -Ferne I found it on a map We listened to this girl, we did not speak Absorbing by our senses,proud and meek
Now I recollect the details very well In those dream like memories I dwell Snapdragons growing just beside my chair I smell the scent as if I were still there
I may be blinded by the tears of loss But I remember, love, our happiness
Mary was in her front room looking for the Jewish Cookery book by Penguin. She couldn’t see it,so said to herself,Jesus Christ, you’re a bloody idiot,Mary As she turned to walk away, the book fell onto her head. Thank you,Lord, she said in a sarcastic tone of voice.There was no response She went into the bijou kitchen covered in cerulean blue tiles by her late husband Stan, while he was still here in this world.Why not make a cup of tea, she asked herself politely Just then the back door opened and her neighbour Annie ran in.She was dressed in indigo trousers with a scarlet top and scarf. Her face glowed with Avenue Oat and Lentil CC moisturiser with sunscreen and she had green mascara on her eyelashes from Rive Sans Torrent de Paris and Bruxelles. which matched her trainers and her eye glasses May I have tea? she said shyly.I ‘ve just been to my English Grammar lesson Yes,you will be very welcome,Mary said.But why bother now to learn the difference between MAY I and CAN I? I feel better if I am more confident,Annie said.And the tutor is very handsome Is it a man? Mary asked That seems grammatically erroneous.IT refers to a non-human object What should I say? Is she a man, is he a man,are they a man,is that a man? Mary wondered. Well, they could even be something else,Annie told her Don’t say any more or Jordan Peterson will be here shouting at you I am puzzled by him,Mary said.He said he was a therapist but his voice is not very mellifluous and you’d have to be careful what you said to him. Like, you hate housework and prefer to try to solve Fermat’s Last Theorem? Annie whispered nervously Well,yes, but with a therapist you need to be relaxed and say whatever comes into your head,like Canadians were redeemed by St.Eliezer a Cohen,usually referred to as Leonard but I can’t see JP getting on with him Leonard loved women but he was never actually married legally.JP would hate him. He looks very cross and annoyed despite a marriage and family.I wonder if he helps his wife to cook the dinner,Annie pondered Not likely, Mary said as she looked through her Jewish cookery book. I might make a cheesecake tomorrow, she cried.I need a new recipe as I’ve met a man online and we are taking a picnic to the Park. Are you sure, he/it/they is/are a man? Annie said politely How can one be now,said Mary.I suppose he/they want to pass as a man but I hope he is a biological man if we are to marry. He might be gay,Annie told her Then why would he ask me out? Because he is a mathematician and he wants to discuss surreal numbers,Annie giggled Would you join SoulMates and pay a fee just to talk about those? Mary replied in a puzzled way. I guess it’s cheaper than taking a train to Oxford and sneaking into the Maths Institute,Annie informed her. OK,I shall bear that in mind.What shall I wear? In the park you might sit on the grass so wear some thick trousers and a wool sweater I won’t look very charming in those,Mary said furtively, afraid Emile her cat might get angry if he knew she was dating a new man. Can’t I wear a red dress with flowers all over and a yellow hat? You CAN…. but is it WISE? Yellow attracts insects Well,Mary said,I don’t mind what they are,I just want SOMEONE or SOMETHING to be attracted to me. And so say all of us.Except Emile
From time and place and season I am lost, Disorientated ,missing tracks well worn .Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost, Nor label me with epithets of scorn.
For usual paths lead to the usual place. the safest way to live and perhaps to die, But wandering through the woods I find new space and in wild grasses with the fox I lie
.Through distant trees, I see a way to go As narrow as a slit in pale limestone .I pass in silence as if in deep,deep snow .My courage rises even as I groan.
Remember when we’re lost ,we may then find Another way,a place,another mind.
The proper conscience does not wound our hearts But tells us truly when we have done wrong It does not injure love before love starts
Its voice is still and small, it is not sharp Sometimes it impresses us by song The goodly conscience does not wound our hearts
Yet conscience is no angel with an harp Unheard when minds are crowded, with thought thronged It does not tear up love before life starts
It does not use great force, no threats shall rape But talks to each in their own native tongue The moral conscience does not wound our hearts
But what of evil men,Satanic sharks, The mysteries of genocide and bombs? Do they tear up love’s roots from their hearts?
Even good folk suffer like the lambs We must enter darkness with blind hands The proper conscience does not wound our hearts It does not curse our love before life starts
My heart is soft like butter left in sun. Much more heat and it will melt and run Oh, why do we have feelings,why engage When friendship turns into such bitter rage?
I do not wish to live remote and stern As if I am so perfect I can’t learn Pain too deep can mortify the flesh Turn us into robots fit for trash
All I need is an enormous fridge Which will make me harder than sweet fudge I’ll go inside and pray for peace each day If I freeze to death,I shall not say.
Oh, be of merry heart,my friends and foes When love comes in, a little hate will go
I am very clever,give me that I have got a first class aegrotat Do you feel that you would like one too ? Just get chicken pox or maybe flu
I went to York in winter,this is true Hebden Bridge had icebergs in the loo Then we were near Grimsby in thick fog The Humber Ferry crossed like coppers plod
In Hull they gave degrees in geography Now they teach the gross democracy That may be where I caught Golders Green My face is apple and my eyes are teal
I could have done degrees in Law or Greek I love to hear the way the foreign speak Give me Aramaic for my tea Give me ancient Hebrew,I am he.
I learned Dutch but I was not first class In fact I failed completely,I’m an ass
Since you died I learned to use a crutch I have noone to lean on, none to touch I wanted you to die with kindly ease Now I miss another I could tease
Noone knows what was our special tree Nor why the pain of loss dwells in my knee As if I cannot stand or wait alone Dark earth is softer than these paving stones
The trees you loved my neighbours see as weeds I shan’t recite a list of their misdeeds Others gossip of my coloured coats A widow’s weeds aren’t teal, they grin, they gloat
Before you went I saw the cloth of gold Coming down from heaven to enfold Then it rose, its satin thick and pure Taking you away, yet life endures
The emptiness, the void, the loss, the pain The crash severe we know is foreordained
In the evening. simmering handkerchiefs Perfumed the air with odours I can’t tell Mother scrubbed them, hung them on the line Then I had to iron them, folded well
Now we have our tissues, we don’t need Hankies that need scrubbing many times The oceans deep are poisoned with our waste Is the use of tissues a new crime?
While we did our homework after tea My brother liked his Wagner at full blast Imagine learning Latin with that din Now the time for anger has long passed
Bad memories change by newly given grace Evoking hints of mother and her face
In this so called office,I am trapped Trying hard to write and to adapt I have numerous pens in this my cell Reminding me of school, the longed for bell
Ten past four, we put on winter clothes I crossed the Park in fog, it wet my nose Walking down our street I’d see the cat Sitting on the pavement, Ginger spat
I put the kettle on to make our tea The coal glowed low and red like elves in glee The aluminium teapot never broke The kettle had turned black , the milk was smoked
I had that tiny piece from others free That was when I learned that I am Me
How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose. Intricate the petals that should shield Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield. Appearances,both natural and contrived, Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive. As, knowing not, we pluck the apple rare And bite its flesh,with teeth we burn to bare. We too deceive the innocent who pass Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass. The windows break,the deep earth quakes; Seized is the maiden ,he her virtue takes .Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive. What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?
Pendle Hill , the Langdale Pikes are me They waken up my heart from dull, dark dreams The marvels are the poignant shapes I see I recognise them in the grace and fear Pendle Hill , the Langdale Pikes are me I’m branded with their shapes so known so dear Yet how huge shadows frighten,haunt the seer Pendle Hill , the Langdale Pikes are me They waken up my heart to what may be
My brain has turned to liquid and it’s dripping from my ears I need some kind of tampon to absorb this sudden rush Why did noone tell me this is frightful to endure? My brain has turned to liquid and it’s dripping from my ears I think it’s far too late to expect a total cure I’ll never hear the little voice nor see the burning bush My brain has turned to liquid and it’s dripping from my ears Where’s an alcoholic then, to drink the mighty rush
The way to be successful is now clear Deny your shame,humiliate the poor Have no friends or mate whom you hold dear The way to be successful is right here Control your cronies with a hint of fear Tread on the lowly, who can but endure The way to be successful, shed no tears Repress your shame,humiliate the poor
Accidentally tread on someone’s face As you run for president again Make sure their features are unclear,erased Knowingly tread on the human face It’s not evil, it is just bad taste The devil is a clown, we feel no strain Incidentally tread on someone’s face As you run for president again
The fallen sun makes black the trees that lean Its liquid centre thrown up wild and bright Enigmatic like a midday dream
The pinky edges shift in sun’s bent beams Do they convey the aura of the light? The fallen sun makes black the trees that lean
I wonder where my haunted eyes have been In the forests deeper than the night Enigmatic like a midday dream
Schizoid, lacking affect, a slit scream Destroying what is left of love and sight The fallen sun makes black the trees that lean
Here we saw wild primrose by the stream The castle of the Tudors soft in blight Enigmatic like a midday dream
Bewildered people kill their own insight Toss their fears , into the weak to bite The failing sun as pure as boiling screams Enigmatic are our midnight dreams
Trees lean over, watchful as we meet The tall ones do not shiver in the breeze Trees can hear the torment in our speech We have flowering cherry in our street But mine died like my lover with great ease Trees lean over listening as we meet
The tree won’t bend too close, it will not reach As panic,worry, horror,nightmares squeeze Trees discern the music in our squeaks
Alas, no tree has mastered human speech But when they can, they coax the honey bees Trees lean over sweetly as we meet
The leaves will rustle,wrestle and may tease Smile for selfies,what’s the word, it’s cheese Trees lean over, wonder, and conceive Yet trees hate noone, nor do they believe
I remember you so well for those eight years The nights you sang love’s lullabies to me I was fearful of the footstep on the stairs
You held me as we paddled in the sea Maybe Blackpool,maybe Morecambe too You told me stories as I sat upon your knee I have some good memories, too few Where are all those days we played outdoors? Who knows if these memories are true? In East Lancs and in West Lancs rain will pour Once you wrapped me in your coat, but then Mam was angry when we reached the door
She told you, you were foolish for a man Why should men be wise, should anyone? That was when your illnesses began
You let me lie beside you in your bed I’d had my tonsils out and felt unwell I talked but don’t remember what you said I didn’t know the meaning of pure hell I guess I learned that when death you befell Come back,Daddy,missing you too well I’m still your little girl, your smiling belle
Now I’m feeling kind of numb on this January day The darkness came down sudden and I feel it’s here to stay Shall I make some tea and pretend that you are here I’m naked like the wood underneath that swish veneer. I’m feeling kinda nothin’ now the melancholy’s gone Should I be doing something that will give me, like, some fun? The silence is not threatening, but neither is it good Did you ever wish that you weren’t made of flesh and blood? I’m feeling so damned stupid for falling on my back My shoulder was in agony and there’s whiplash in my neck The doctor, he injected me, but he said it’s down to luck He may have missed the mark, he says,I wish I’d said,oh feck Apparently the elderly are not in much demand I heard a sorta whisper as my head went in the sand We must keep the silence or we’ll frighten off the young They don’t seem to notice but the cat will lick my hand
I didn’t know how old I was till the clock flew off the wall Isn’t it uncanny what you see before the Fall?
Yout letter seems to overflow with rage The reservoir of hatred has emerged The loving kindness vanished without trace
I cannot see the mirror of your face You used me to contain your anger’s surge Yout letter, wanton, overflows with rage
Why did you enact your Play in haste? Why treat me so coldly , why me hurt? Your act of love has vanished without trace
Do not tell me I was not your taste You fantasised an image I dispute Yout letter ,sadly, overflows with rage
I hate to see my love was to you waste Free speech applies to both, you can’t refute How could good, true love leave not a trace?
After this, I in my world was mute I could not speak,my heart and soul pursued Yout letter uses words to channel rage You wished to see me naked,this the stage
midsummer days evoke the trancelike past where children played in joyous, daisied fields with buttercups so bright the memory lasts a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.
those stones and leaves and many coloured flowers were gathered into images that glow yet later we forget those treasured hours when for a while we lived in life’s deep flow
we did not look and see,but felt at one we lived as did the birds high in the trees now we write , experiencing has gone we cannot live like flowers filled with bright bees
to lose ourselves in nature is a joy which to our adult selves we must restore
Cold dull winters bring us close to death The blood grows thick and scarcely does it move The worms may shudder deep down in the earth
This damp coldness presses out our breath The frost and ice, the memory delude Cold dull winters bring us close to death
Do we need the sun to give us worth? Low in oxygen, the mind’s confused The worms have nightmares deep down in the earth
Should we pause, these issues to address? In this Lockdown, where should we confess? Cold dull winters bring us close to death
Wonder now what makes our voices terse With no priests, who shall this poor world bless? The worms may sleep deep down inside the earth
On each other,let us not intrude Let all loving kindness be our food Cold dull winters bring us close to death Like worms that slumber deep down in the earth
The cat would listen as I sang a tune Maybe Leonard Cohen, maybe Bach I washed the pots and dried the silver spoons
He lay down on the carpet as I crooned Now I have a doormat and no heart The cat would listen as I sang a tune
In early married life. I saw no doom Oh,mother, don’t you know we have to part? I washed the pots. gave back the silver spoon
Instead I saw the silver of the moon Where do we draw diagrams or charts? The cat would wriggle gently, dance my tunes
He said the cat was ill,oh, can’t be cured The cat had tumours ,soon we had to part I threw the pots outside and bent the spoons
Our hearts are full of holes, pierced by such darts My lover left me and my friends were sharks The cat should listen as I sing a tune I am mad, I fried the honey moon
Bring your own God with you, you can’t help it anyway I have heard you singing, don’t tell me you can’t pray We’re strung like beads along a chain, we’re linked with none left out Every time that someone dies, there opens a new mouth Mouth brings voice, the people’s choice, there is no faking Truth Eat and live, speak and grieve, give and so receive Eyes to see and ears to hear,grace may be about Still the Sirens wail and moan, leave them, they can’t count
Please choose a gentle piece of music for your ringtone [But nothing from Wagner any way] We all have insomnia.Just work through it We regret live sex is not allowed but you can dream Mobile groans will be ignored Please do not shock us by rising from the bed Please sit down on your chair and not the consultant’s knee. Kindly do not tell the doctor he is stupid.He knows already. The doctor is only a pest when exhausted Kindly pretend to listen to the Consultant on his round Kindly do not eat cream buns or meringues in front of the Consultant.He is on a diet. Kindly avoid catching any bugs belonging to or emanating from this hospital and vice versa Please do not swallow your Kindle Fire before lights out.Buy a bigger one next time Keep yourself clean.Take a bed by the open window during a storm. Kindly avoid dying when we are busy.You can if you think you can Kindly do not write verse on your sheets unless in water soluble ink Kindly recover before Friday as we are shutting for the weekend Kindly write poetry on paper and not on your arms and legs. Kindly do not copy these rules down.They are our secret. Kindly keep all you hear secret especially from visitors Please do not breathe out bad breath We will take you for a scan in Rymans if you pay. Bribes are forbidden, but we take them anyway We love all religions,but don’t argue in here.Go outside and fight if you must. Don’t convert us while ill Be holier than thou Confession is available of Saturdays 5-8 pm if you can walk and talk Where is God?
I am this, the cobble stones Hot tar between the wails and groans Some stones are flat,our stones were round Snap entry to the Underground I am the pools in pavement holes In winter frost you crack my bones On my surface, children prance I am the stage,I am the dance I see you and you see me As your peek with bended knee I am the bricks that built your house I am the mousehole and the mouse Here comes Ginger, the big cat He caught a chicken and a rat Here the coal shed, here the lav That is what our houses had Cold it is if menstrual pain Comes on in the night again Colder still to lose your child To the sewers wizened smile I am the earth on which we grew I am the mystery,I the clue Stand on me,I am your strength I the bowler,I the length Golden children came to dust I the promise,I the cost
The music is the waves as they run high Across the pebbly sands onto the road Then groaning of the shingle as waves die
The fish that dwell deep in the dark, dark brine The flow within as outer waters flow The music of the waves as they run high
The moon reflects sun’s light to other eyes Above the seas which rise up to its goad. Then groans the shingle as the steep waves die
The sea holds hidden goods where we can’t pry In the deep the heavy water moulds The music of the waves as they run high
All the day and all of the black night The seas and oceans change from high to low Ah, groans the earth as each wave has to die
Re-hear these sounds, are they a sacred code? As angels wrestled, Jacob feared the Lord His music is the waves as they run high His groaning is the shingle as waves die
I was walking in a desert grey and bleak All alone, with none to speak or eat I shuddered when I realised the truth I was unmarried, pregnant, mere refuse.
Cast out for other failings all unknown My baby came too soon and I alone A doctor with no face appeared and said Your baby died ,I see he’s never fed
He flung my baby on his heap of dead I lay there in the dirt, red with my blood I had to leave or I would die of grief The will to live just stronger than a leaf
I went to see my baby, and he smiled He was still alive, my love,my child I took him in my arms, where should we go? I walked into that darknessfull and slow
When strangers ask for photos of you nude Or wearing clothes so scanty they’ll go blind Let them see your feet without their shoes
Let them see your twisted toes turn blue Let them see the bunions God designed When strangers ask for photos rather rude
Can one solve a crossword with no clues? Can one have no bosom and look fine? Can they love your feet without cute shoes?
When you’re feeling sad and life is blue When you long for love but not divine When gentlemen want photos somewhat crude
Try to sell them on the Evening News Take the veil or drink the Altar Wine Let them kiss your feet without their shoes
When you’re looking for the hidden signs Don’t read numbers settlers left behind When strangers ask for photos, give them clues Let them wash your feet but make them queue
How my heart sings 