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
Category: emotion
I need your words
Why did you not speak before you died?
I need words,I can’t interpret smiles
When you said you loved me, did you lie?
When you could have heard me, you would sigh
Why did you not speak before you died?
Where is Reason when it’s not applied
Why do lovers not respond to cries?
Why do we beget yet not beguile?
Why did you not speak before you died?
I need your words,I can’t interpret smiles
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I may be a weed
Think of this, a weed still has its flowers
They may be small, like ivy they may spread
We must display ourselves, not cower
Until the moment comes when we are dead
Does it matter that you hate my guts?
That you dislike my face so pink and white?
I am happy to deflect your bombs so hot
The nuclear option seems so very trite
I am me and I may be a weed
The definition falters as we talk
Let us be judged by all our deeds
The sparrow must be careless of the hawk
I no longer want your letters vile
Be gone from me and you will make me smile
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A song that has no words nor any tune
Your absence from our home is a still a wound
A bruise upon my heart, a knock, a blow
A song that has no words nor any tune
That hovers in my ear,is loth to go
Yet I am glad I helped you to let go
I would not wish that you were here alone
But when the lake of tears still overflows
I wish that I could reach you on my phone
I am not lonely,I am missing you
Your tenor voice, your loving touch and words
The distance when you from the world withdrew.
Seems to me, few voices I have heard.
Yet I accept all living creatures die
But why are widows not allowed to cry?
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I’ll follow where love leads
I heard the thud our cat made on the stair
But when I looked there was no creature there
Can our longing make us hear strange sounds;
Delusions,wish-fulfilment, breaking bounds?
I heard the wrens sing by the kitchen door
At least there is no cat to make them fewer
I want to make some tea but I feel stuck
I’ll fill the pan, while love my heart strings plucks
For aeons I feel I’m paralysed by grief
The caterpillars gnaw upon green leaves
I judge myself incompetent,too slow.
Yet would I judge another, wound with blows?
I feel half-way between the real, the dream
In reverie I’ll follow where love leads
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Love and blindness
Love and structure made our life secure
Although outside our tent, the gales still blew
Now alone,I fear I can’t endure
Your loving presence made my life secure
Now I stand on air ,supportless,poor
Love and structure made our life secure
Now I am afraid and pale my hue
Love and blindness made us feel secure
I forgot ,outside the tent, wild gales still blew
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Love flowed
All we had was the cooker and the bed
I bought some sheets and blankets up the road
The Coop had a shop, it saved my head
All we had was the cooker and the bed
We must have had some plates, yes, they were red
Indicating we were not well bred
Cutlery and mugs were gifts bestowed
All we had was much love and a bed
I made a meal and after that we flowed
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Holy heart’s affection,beating pulse
One single tear expresses love and loss
Dramatic storms excess may make folk pause
Who will notice one tear and its cost?
A little stone near water may grow moss
But only mountains bring a sense of awe
One single tear expresses love and loss
Grief must not wallowed in, like baths
Philosophers not hurt their minds uncaused
Who then will observe the tear, the cost?
To an ant, a pebble is quite gross
To a widow, death has hungry jaws
One single tear may show how she is lost
The entire self is tear-filled like a marsh
We weep till love itself becomes remorse
Let one tear out and hide its anguished cost
The heart’s affections use poetic laws
Holy circulation, blood that draws
One single tear falls down like bladed grass
Who will care for this tear, bear its cost?
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The loss of dignity, the face unread
His face was black, he fell against my breast
Dying in an armchair by his bed
While nurses gossiped,he was alone left
The doctor said it would be for the best
The rehab is not meant for those near death
His face was black, he fell against my breast
I asked him,dearest, do you feel depressed?
He nodded with a gravity like lead
While nurses gossiped,he was lonely left
Then I realised my wifely task
I was even asked to lift him to his bed
No longer as my bridegroom at the feast
The loss of dignity, the face unread
The blindness of the staff, the broken head
His face was black, he fell against my breast
While nurses gossiped,he was fading fast
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Like an oboe singing as I pray
Precisely when we fell in love’s unclear
I knew your humour and your eager ways
I can’t imagine when you were not dear
The deeper is the love, the more the fear
That one must go, the other one must stay
Exactly when we fell in love’s unclear
All alone, it is your voice I hear
Like an oboe singing as I pray
I can’t imagine when you were not dear
I see you in the room I know you’re here
I must not look, or I shall have to pay
Exactly when we fell in love’s unclear
I see your head lean onto mine so near
From my reverie I must not stray
I can’t imagine when you were not dear
As we ambled, wandered on our way
I did not know the ending of our Play
Precisely when we fell in love’s unclear
From this world’s creation, you were dear
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We’re burnt by love and loss
You smiled at me and then you disappeared
Flying skyward with no hint of fear
Stunned and left behind,I wept with shock
Deprived by death of one last lingering look
No kiss, no word of love,no last embrace
No colour and no pinkness in your face
I saw you fly as fast as hawks at prey
I held you in my heart ,I felt dismay
How could you leave me when I need you so
Could you not remain till I too must go?
Death is sad,mysterious,unknown
Once lovers all complete and now alone
Silently at last we take the pain
We’re burnt by love and loss, that dual frame
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His eyes were silent,still, and very black
The day his mother died he’d cut his arms
With bits of pointed glass like frosty nails
The blood had stained his shirt, yet made him calm
He did not like to make a scene or wail.
The day his mother died he sat alone
Wondering what to eat or who to call
Above him was hot sky, a blue, blue dome
Below the earth where very soon she’d fall
The day his mother died he hugged his cat
She alone gave comfort without blame
His eyes were silent,still and very black
What hope, what help, where is the nameless Name?
The day his mother died he went to sleep
To dream and wander in the deepness deep
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We call it love
I run my fingers tentatively down your cheek,
asking you a question
with my eyes.
looking at each other,
you touch me too.
This is my skin
my boundary.
Yours is thicker,
like rubber.
I run my fingers down your chin.
what is this little bone?
I like it.
I like your skin
I like your bones.
I like you.
you please me.
you are tasty.
I like your taste,
your skin,your eyelids.
I like your eye here,
and your other eye .
Nice one!
I like the hair on your head.
May I touch your hair?
do you like hair?
Hair makes me laugh.
I have a fondness for laughing.
I love to laugh.
I enjoy laughter
I love your laughter.
If not, smiling is good also.
Or a gleam in the eyes,
showing the inside smile,
the smiling heart.
I like your inside,
Outside
and possibly
your backside.
your upside and your downside.
your side sides.
I snuggle you all around with soft wool.
I knit you into my scarf.
I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!
How unusual
How flexible.
How charming.
How alarming
How creative
How interesting.
What an idea!
what a notion
but you are too big for me to knit
So I’ll just touch your hand
with my fingers.
and you touch my hand
with your fingers.
What good hands we have
with such fingers.
fingers are for touch.
fingers are keen to touch.
I like touch.
what would we do
without fingers?
I like your skin.
skin is good
We love skin
We love.
I want skin to be ours
and yours
is mine
and mine
is yours
where is the edge of the world?
skin has no end
it’s infinity
au naturel.
what order!
what design!
What wonder.
what awe.
where is the world’s skin?
tenderly we touch the world
as the world embraces us.
We call it love.
Love.
We call it love
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Stitch the world together
Heal your own neurosis ,let go shame
Why should you be less because you ache?
Stitch yourself together without blame
Have you got the problem with no name?
Have you made a billion weird mistakes?
Love your own neurosis without shame
Be with other people when you can
Listen to them talking, you may shake
Stitch yourself together without blame
We all get wet when wandering in the rain
Dry another person for love’s sake
Live your with neurosis without shame
Do not worry that your soul is stained
Keep the pieces when your own heart breaks
Bring yourselves together without blame
It is not Xmas yet but make a cake
Share good news,accept what is now fate
Own your own neurosis, let go shame
Stitch the world together, that’s our aim
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He is no more
The heart that touched my heart I feel no more
Alone in this great space. I feel afraid
Like a conductor who has lost the Score
The soul that touched my soul I feel no more
As other orders that soul did obey
The heart that touched my heart I feel no more
Alone in the abyss. I feel afraid
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The baby sees but cannot speak
They tore the blanket in my pram in two
I could not sit up but I could see
Is this what older brothers often do?
I have no other memory nor a clue
I could not speak nor could I even flee
They tore the blanket in my pram in two
Ambivalent,dynamic,what’s this glue?
They fought at every chance,ignoring me
Is this what older brothers often do?
Parents were not there,that’s nothing new
Where do the feelings of the mute dwell silently?
They tore the blanket in my pram in two
Still these speech-wrecked moods descend on me
How to transform fear, indentity?
Is this what older brothers have to do?
Intense emotion feels too sharp. though true
The feelings push and shove inside of me
They tore my knitted blanket into two
If I’d had no brothers,I’d be who?
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The anniversary
On this June day, he went away,
That was some years ago
Each dawn was like torture,
The anguish. the slaughter
No connection with anyone near
He gave a last smile,I did not cry,
My heart took the weight of the blow
The time goes so slowly,
We can’t control it
Stunned by the sorrow,the flow
How will you manage, he whispered,
We’re married.
Will you be able to steer?
I could not think past it,
His death would be drastic
My aim was to help him let go
Yet time also races,
We must not waste it
We’re here for a short time, who knows?
One day runs to the next day
My heart aches so violently
I hold it here gently
Why oh love why aren’t you here?
I called after three weeks
I can’t go on like this
Won’t you come back,why’d ye go?
I had no answer, the demons entranced me
They tightened me up with their gears
Like the rack and the flaying
Skin torn and bleeding
Yet we’re not meant to let feeling show
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The Catherine wheel, the longing, the desire
Oh, my brother, I have said goodbye
Once my little playmate, you must die
Your voice is very weak as there you rest
I wish that life were not a cruel test
I told you of the see saw and the swings
I will not argue, this is what life brings
Remembered fireworks and the blazing fire
The Catherine wheel, the longing, the desire
How can a boy so strong soon turn to dust?
Where has gone the liveliness, the lust?
Weak but uncomplaining you lie there
On my face I feel a film of tears
You’ll never die, you’ll live on in my mind
I forgive your acts, for you were blind
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Closing Time
A husband died at half past two
What has that to do with you?
The past is like a candle blown
The heart a grave beneath a stone
Grief is very close to fear
Shaking legs and frozen tears
It’s closing time
The poppy fields , the linseed blue
The cottage where I loved with you
Noone else will know it all
The Suffolk Rose, the paint all worn
The rented car, the yellow corn
The cottage windows seemed to yawn
Closing time
But I dream and I see you
Smiling widely as you do
Ask me where the car keys are
Ask me if I’ll take you where?
Whitby,Staithes. all understood
All gone now,god sweated blood
Closing time
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Feel the loving sun and kiss the bees
I wish that I could be inside a tree
To put my entire body in its form
To feel the sun and wind and hear the bees
I’d like my hands to dance as flexibly
As birds move through the air, as rises dawn
I wish that I could feel myself a tree
I’d love my garden sweetly, ardently.
I’d love each single daisy on the lawn
I’d feel the sun and wind and hear the bees
But would a holly want to be just me?
Oh, poor tree that walks about forlorn
I wish that I could turn into a tree.
Perhaps a cat that sat upon my knee
Would mioaw inside my home by dust deformed
She would love the sun and wind and hear the bees
When I change,I’ll keep you all informed
You may hear me singing in the Storms
I wish that I could dwell within a tree
Feel the loving sun and kiss the bees
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They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily
-
Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.
My, this bed is much too hard,he thought.
He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk.Emile was lying on Stan’s stomach purring.
You fell out of bed,the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see mice better.
Well,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently.
How can I get up from here?
He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia Plath and banged on his desk softly.
Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his desk.
Emile wanted to sleep by the wall,you see.,he told her.
Then he rolled over and I fell out.That is logically and scientifically mad,Mary told him.
Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed?
It is against the law of gravityAnyway,why don’t you get up?
I like it down here,the old man lied to her optimistically.
Rubbish,Mary said,then she picked up the phone and rang 999.
Hello,she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my aged husband out of bed.
How terrible for you,the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away.
Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match.
How do you feel now Stan,she enquired tying her red polyester fleece dressing gown a bit tighter before the paramedics arrival
I am thirsty,give me some brandy,he ordered her politely as he was full of kindness
They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat
Blooming ridiculous,he told her in a manly fashion.
Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs to see the poor cat. Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile and cleaned his paws.Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary,his wife.
Why don’t you have a bigger bed,one asked Stan.
Bigger than what,he responded academically.
Well,if you were any fatter you’d not be able to lie next to your wife.
True,he replied but my wife is too large.I keep hoping she will lose weight.
I shall make you some tea the female paramedic told them forcefully
Well,you don’t seem to be hurt,the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel.
He’s not a Catholic ,I hope?
No, he’s Jewish,Stan shouted implausibly.
That’s alright then.How do cats get to be Jewish anyhow?
It’s their souls,Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats.
But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly.They have no prayer shawls
They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily.And they like to sing the psalms before bed.
But how do you know it’s Hebrew,he replied.Do you speak it?
No, it’s just he hates bacon and pepperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends,but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as a relic.Well,that’s intriguing.Do you think Emile might be the Messiah?
Oh,dear.We never thought of that.Will he have to go to Galilee and catch fish and walk on water?
No, he can go to Rome and tell the Pope that the Church is not what God planned.
I hope they don’t kill him,Mary cried sadly.
God will not be very happy.
I didn’t know God had moods,Stan said.
He has post-creative depressive disorder….no wonder when we look round the world.
Still they did try,I’ll say that for him or her.
And so say all of us.
For he’s a very good yeller,he’s a very good yeller
A cat’s life is a fuss.Miaow.
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In green thoughts I dwell.
Small rain in summer
Pools on large green leaves,
Makes all birds dumber
Silently they weave.
Wrens fly to and fro
Nesting near the house.
They know where to go
With nestlings and spouse.
Simple life of green
Hiding in lush leaves.
A space to be unseen
Humans only grieve.
Where is our safe space?
Where can we live well?
As anguish veils the face
In green thoughts I dwell.
Pools on large green leaves,
Makes all birds dumber
Silently they weave.
Wrens fly to and fro
Nesting near the house.
They know where to go
With nestlings and spouse.
Simple life of green
Hiding in lush leaves.
A space to be unseen
Humans only grieve.
Where is our safe space?
Where can we live well?
As anguish veils the face
In green thoughts I dwell.
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The strange world of Stan
Art by Katherine
While Mary boiled the kettle in the new greenish blue painted kitchen,Stan smacked his thick red lips.
“I thought we said, we’d have no more corporal punishment,” she murmured loudly.”
Why did you smack your lips just now?”
“Well,I can hardly smack yours” he said politely
“But we said no more smacking at all yesterday”
“I just like the noise” he confessed, turning as red as a stalk of ripe rhubarb.
“Sado-masochism may be fun, but after reading,Fifty Glades of Fray,I thought we said we’d abandon it”
“Well,why don’t we abandon ourselves to our bodies or divine providence?” he answered curiously.
“I am unsure if one can do that on purpose or if it just happens whilst doing something else.”
“Elser than what?”
“I dunno” the Oxgrudge educated woman replied sheepishly .
“The Government didn’t give you a three year research grant so you’d say,I dunno” Stan told his slender and silver haired wife and lover.
“Well,that’s their problem.Three years studying Searat’s equation did nothing for my spoken English” the brilliantly brained brown haired and eyed bonny bosomed beauty told him shrewdly.
“Well,are there rats in the sea?
“I dunno”
“So who wrote the equation?” Stan asked her.Immediately in a peevish tone
the door bell rang.
“Hello,Mary,It’s me” cried Annie their naughty neighbor and man magnet
“No,it’s not”
“What do you mean?”
“You never invented Searat’s equation”
“Pardon me for living,”Annie answered rudely.
”I prefer peeling potatoes to this noisy argument.”
“I never knew potatoes pealed”
“Yes,it’s like little bells ringing” Mary informed her kindly
Oh,for God’s sake,”Stan shouted quietly,”that’s Emile’s bell ringing so the birds can escape from him”
The women went red all over with shame.Annie ran into the kitchen and poured a bucket of cold water over her head.
It’s this hot weather;it’s too much.I need a man now!I am mad with desire.
No,it’s just that mid life madness coming too late,she told herself gently
It’s too hot to make love anyway.
Why you must be getting old,she remarked to herself confidently
Heat never turned you off before.Why you once said you’d lie down in the road and sleep with the next man who passed by.
Unfortunately he passed by on the other side,just like in the Bible.
But in my case no Samaritan came to my aid.
“Am I having a mental breakdown/” she shouted pensively
“No,it’s me” Stan told her,I am trying to stop Mary smacking her lips but it is hard work. and it has create a bad atmosphere.”
“Is it wrong to smack your own lips?Can you morally smack someone else’s?” Annie said wonderingly
“Why do you ask me that?”
“Well,it seems lots of things are wrong if one does them alone but are moral if you do it with someone else or to someone one else”
“I just have no idea what you are talking about,”Mary called valiantly.
“Make me some tea.My lips are parched!”she continued
“No wonder,”said Stan vivaciously
Well,thought Emile,I am glad cats have no lips.That’s one thing less to worry about.
He sat up and drank some tea from his china saucer
Stan and the ladies sat quietly on the patio watching the birds flying about.
“Do birds ever get obese?”Mary asked.But answer came there none.
Night fell and they all went to bed together,Emile says there is safety in numbers and I find thirty is a safe number to share my bed.I write 30 on a postcard and pop it under my pillow.With my dentures and my hanky and four mobile phones
I seem to manage the night.
And so shout all of us
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The pain of our own Cross
I see a friend who follows my old path
The downward slope, the tunnel through the dark
Helping partners ease their way through death
The hesitance, the disbelief, the wrath
The sharpness like a knife that cuts our heart
I see a friend who follows my old path
So many lovely friends, ny husband said
Just before he lost the vital spark
Helping him to float from out his bed
I did not realise that he was dead
Until his pallor faded, blood departs
I see a friend who follows on this path
We miss them where they used to lie in bed
We miss them taking photos of the park
We help them ease their way to their good death
We need love to help us with this work
Who will help the carer when they hurt?
I see a friend who follows my old path
We each bear the pain of our own Cross
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Words benign
The gap between experience and words-
Should any person be reduced to signs?
A hint, a sigh, a flight, a little bird
Who ought express in lines what has occurred ?
Does the bloodied heart weep words benign-
The gap between experience and words
A line distinct, a line that is too blurred
What impact can this have on a design?
Which hint, which sight, which flight, will kill the bird?
The sentence well constructed has its flair
Yet to the void much feeling is consigned
That gulf between experience and words
Who tore apart the meaning we hoped shared?
So now to nothingness we are resigned
No hint, no sigh, no flight, no little bird
With whose filters may we be refined?
Who shelters souls that others have declined?
The gap between experience and words-
A hint, a sigh, a flight, the shining bird
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Welcomed by God’s eye
Dwell inside your heart and breathe just so
From there your spirit body can outflow
Spread this round your loved one like a shawl
No need to make a sound for love will call
Two are one like lovers in their bed
But now one has to leave , love cuts the thread
In full silence , welcomed by God’s eye
They concentrate on this before they die
In your gracious warmth they’re feeling safe
As a child is in a mother’s gaze
Time no longer matters. we’re elsewhere
Walking humbly ,softly i to God’s stare
At last the work is done and they are free
Who can understand such mystery?
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Trust the Unknown,trust the inner flow
The sky at dusk, my camisole , love’s grace
Blending blue and mauve in skilled embrace
God the painter ,God the X unknown
Send us light to see where our our love goes
Drop by drop the spirit ebbs away
Now the sky is dark in stark blue-grey
In the mind the dreams rehearse and scheme
Take away the terror and the screams
Hold us in your Hand as we let go
Trust the Unknown,trust the inner flow
Who but you can show us what we need
As we crawl to bed in fraught unease?
Now the air is black I see a star
I feel the void yet love dwells even there
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I forgave him everything last year
My brother kindly set my hair on fire
He stole my food from off the plate or floor
So for a man I had repessed desire
He took me fishing in a pond close by
I loved him very much,indeed adored
My brother madly set my hair on fire
We went in disused brick kilns, we were spies.
Of his company I never tired
Yet for new men I feel not much desire
Now his time has come and soon he’ll die
I forgave him everything last year
His voice is weak, he thanked me and I cried
I did not plan forgiveness nor to lie
“God ” filled me with love , our lives restored
Yet for new brothers I feel some desire
Who left Daddy’s matchsticks near my boy?
He could not know he would destroy my hair
My brother hurt me, set my hair on fire
We choose to love until we both expire
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Boris Johnson raised up from the dead
The Tower of Babel fell down in the night
The people spoke but noone could reply
We cried out but noone listened then
Nor did we salvage much from wrecked Big Ben
Boris Johnson raised up from the dead
His pleasures once , pre- flu, lay in the bed
He spread his seed about so it’s no boast
To bear his child nor feed him Sunday roast
He will lead the country out of sin
His brilliant way: to stop us logging in
No more one click books or toys for sex
No more screws and curtain rails to fix.
Ah now enjoy the peace of empty space
Yet we grieve for lack of an embrace
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Wreaths of smoke
Daddy where were you when I was sad
I bought you Woodbines in the corner shop
I carried your boiled egg with salt on plate
You lay in bed adorned with wreaths of smoke
Uncle Herbert died when I was five
Not many of Dad’s brothers left alive
But Bert was old and all his children grown
He lay inert, the coffin dark, the stone
I saw yours and Grandad’s too, false oak
The Cemetery filled with men and broken jokes
So baffled by affection we would seek
And for her mother’s grave, we often looked
We too will be broken, wordless earth
Worms will do their work. the lungs, the breath
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Wet diamonds
Beware the delivery pass they sell
For I ,so foolish, for one fell
It says I can order every day
But guess what folks, they make me pay
I tried to do one this weekend
But in 6 days I have sinned
I bought 2 loaves just for the ghosts
Foetuses, and heavenly hosts
Though my babies never grew
I have shawls both pink and blue
O mother, mother, come here now
I need your arm ,these thoughts hurt me
My linen closets ready yet
I know my babies can’t come back
Now I’m old,I’d like to see
Their eyes so gentle smile their plea
Tantrums, shrieks and other noise
I would welcome any voice
And one might look like my dear love
Why did God take them above?
Mysterious are his ends and days
How can humans know his ways?
The Lord may give, the Lord may take
Blessed be his wounded Face
For God himself does suffer too
His eyes wet diamonds , polished dew
How my heart speaks 