When we speak but do not look upon The person we address, we are undone We miss the tiny signs, the looks, the lines We treat them as mere object we define
We treat them like a post of wood or stone As if we cannot hurt nor cause them shame We hit them with sharp words or thoughtless rot And on and on until hate is begot
All want to be acknowleged,seen and heard But must approach each other with great care For most of us are thin skinned, nervous beasts Who fear they are not asked to the great Feast
And in a thousand gestures we declare We are not speaking merely to thin air
Denial worked for you for many years When you nearly crashed when turning right You give no hint that you had any fear Denial worked for you for many years Real though is the body,real the tears As I sat beside you,well prepared Your smile was not imagined,nor the light Denial worked for you for many years Once you nearly crashed, that was not right
When we turn our face the other way The roving car will hit us with its force No time for any thought,much less a prayer When we turn our face the other way We will feel the impact or we die No new day will dawn for those who care When their eyes are red, their voices hoarse When we turn our face the other way The speeding car will hit us with its force
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
In between two numbers there are so many more Uncountable and infinite this is their allure And then there is the circle, unmatchable, unsquare. There is stern white beauty, the air is very pure
In between two numbers, a dancing pair can kiss The band has paused to take a breath, the space is not amiss The music has its rhythmic beat, how different from mere noise Listen to the humming, listen to its voice
In between two numbers,puzzled and unsure I try to guess the one you sent, your manners are obscure Am I thinking in straight lines, when curves would tell me more I see the comic sanctions that down on me will pour
In between two raindrops, in between two tears In between our words and songs, love displaces fear
Emotions flow like music in the mind A humming deep within the very self Even in our sleep the patterns wind Transformed to opera,images and health
The hum of children’s voices is benign Two and two are four, oh Alice knows Who has made thes minds so well designed? Who has suffered well the pain, the blow?
Cut out the music, worship reason pure Kant the human suffered it in shock And in his way he wandered as a cure Konigsburg with bridges was well stocked
Freed up in our humming, glad to hear The music of the heart, the dark, the spheres
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
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
A strange comingling of the mills and moors Green of nature,smoke from chimneys glowers While sheep graze their wool is touched by smoke But higher up the ground is bare of hope
Peering down I recognise the view Rows of terraced houses share a loo Women wear their aprons with panache Boys are playing,give or take a bash.
Miners walking home with faces black Painters with their ladders and their sacks Little girls are skipping with their ropes Cats are watching idly, kittens mope
Which way shall we go, we must decide The green hill with no walls, the red brick eyes?
Unconscious of our cruelty, we sin Yet pride ourselves as worthy and refined Those who know themselves are modest souls Who do to those around them little harm
Blinded to our our faults we strut about Causing pain to others, oh what charm If we break the rules,we have no doubts From our errors we can never learn
So I look on your insults and smile Self image admits nothing makes a change I shall not keep your sentences in files Unlike dried flowers in vases well arranged
Yet though you now evade a little pain Your company will never be the same
No rought beast shall slouch to Bethlehem There is no track or pattern to our fate Once Jesus’ feet were bathed by Magdalen Now communities of love disintegrate.
The world does fall apart, the centre’s gone There is no named War, but armies kill Or single, abject men who carry guns On other nearby folk will shoot at will
There seem to be no ” better” sort of men But all lack much conviction,common good They follow gold with bent accountant’s pen Calvin’s “way to heaven”, Noah’s flood
Now there is no road nor path nor beast Confusion,chaos,populism will feast
A beam of light passed through my eyes And showed to me a world disguised So near,yet far,we do not see, Unless by gift of grace redeemed. That world is full of peace and calm Its colors mingle,like a balm. In such a moment all thought dies Revealing Love which underlies. Colors caress my naked eyes. Sunlight blesses new designs. I stand enthralled,and do not wish For one delight,other than this. My breath slows down, and filled with joy, I rove my eyes with bliss to toy. Everything is just itself. This is now my living wealth. Beneath the noise of city cars, This mellow joy in love endears This depth and peace, is always near When we choose Love and turn fromFear
When soft winds blow and air strokes our bare skin .When days are long like melodies of youth, when light wakes up the soul from out her sin Then shall we know when this sweet life is truth?
When flowers droop and leaves are dried and brown; When water’s short and all the ground’s forlorn Then do not meet disaster with a frown, For out of heartfelt sorrow new life’s born
.When winter’s here and all is quiet and still And nothing seems to move or grow or speak Then we shall learn the limits of our will When through the soil the first green shoots will break
.For seasons change and actors come and go. Yet through such changes, life is what we know
We are swimming in deep water,deep and green I am coming towards you with my fingers stretched Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
The deep sea has no sun, yet we can see The retina is waiting, ready,etched We are swimming in deep water,deep and green
I see your face and eyes,how well they gleam Do we have to undergo a test? Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
Underneath the ocean are strange scenes I will tell you later, we are blessed We are swimming in sea water,deep and green
Our fingers meet, our lips share silver sheen We float in circles, weightless is our flesh Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
What will happen, what shall we do next Inspiration,grace, we are perplexed We are floating in deep water,deep and green Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
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
On summer days the cliff at Weybourne sang Of finest grass entwined with tiny flowers The butterflies were floating on the wind
We walked along contented, hand in hand In Sheringham we saw no faces dour On summer days the cliffs at Weybourne sang
We met no wasps nor anything that stings The footpath was kept clear, no weeds to sour The butterflies were resting on the wind
I looked at bluebells,insects hear their ring So we passed with pleasure our free hours On summer days, the cliffs at Weybourne sang
Was it for this perfection Adam sinned? No human joy is with us very long The butterflies were resting on the wind
On summer days the cliff at Weybourne sang Of grass so fine and of its tiny flowers The butterflies were floating on the wind
In winter the North wind will make beasts cower No need for ventilation,faces glower On summer days the cliff at Weybourne sang The butterflies float through my mind, bright, winged
Another branch has fallen from the tree For nine short months, it weakened and grew dry. It fell to earth with utter gravity
Is comparing us to trees good simile? I’d find a better if I’d wits to try Another branch has fallen from the tree
The tree grieves not, for trees like to be free Their main desire is stature, to be high. Dead branches fall to earth by gravity
Some compare life to a drunken sea; Or to the sky where dance wild nuclei Yet our most holy symbol is the tree
The strong hang on in their tenacity Even as their leaves and berries fly Weaker branches fall with gravity
Death comes so much harder to the high This is no truth but neither do I lie Another branch has broken from the tree Thus disconnected , it is down and free
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
I see the tins I used for Christmas Cakes The Russian Cheese Cake and the apple tart Nowadays do younger women bake? I remember mother making Buns Hot,uncross, she made cakes with her heart Her apple suet pudding beat her plum The kitchen was a room with its own fire There we ate and cooked and fought,alarmed Children pinch and nip and even bite I banged my head upon the table sharp The corners seemed to hate me,even spurn I wished I were a dog so I could bark I fell down the stairs, it was a thrill It hurt less than the beatings made me smart Children were deprived of any will
Shall these cake tins from my home depart? Shall I make a small cake from a chart? I hold the tin I used for Christmas Cake Watching TV where new experts bake
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
In the birdbath filled by summer rain I saw the baby wood pigeon again So safe the garden, birds became quite tame Secret,silent, sweet,no cats, it kept me sane
The bird was washing,splashing all about With darted glances,so few I could count Then it flew up into a large tree Holly,maple, apple,I could see
Though it’s winter, sunshine makes me dream Gazing through the window at this scene Sap is stirring,rising in soft light Making these bare branches a new sight
Love came down and lit up this,my heart Then the grace of being made its start
I feel a kind of numbness on this January day The darkness came down sudden and I feel it’s here to stay Shall I make myself some tea and pretend that you are here? I feel naked like the wood underneath that swish veneer I’m feeling kinda nothin’ now the melancholy’s gone Should I be doing summat that’ll give me, like, some fun? The silence is not threatening, but neither is it good Did you ever wish yourself , 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 saysand I just say,oh heck Apparently the elderly are not in much demand I heard a sorta whisper as my head went in the sand We must keep this hidden or we’ll frighten off the young They don’t seem to notice but the cat does 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?
Lying in the heather with you,love The world below,the cliff edge of the hills Swainby,Stokesley, Stockton,Saltburn sea Happy, free, still unaware of bills
The butterflies, the little flower bells The scent of honey and the Yorkshire bees I see your face as clear as it was then But you have crossed the Styx and not the Tees
Yet still I feel your arms that held me near I see you smile , so happy to be wed We hitched a lift right to Osmotherly The entire hill seemed like a marriage bed
There is a place where that sweet day exists I take your hands and kiss your inner wrists
A mood of stillness like a quiet dove A lack of wind, vast silence gives repose Symbolises blessings from above.
My trees mature now form a holy grove The sorrow ruling me has been deposed To give me stillness with the nesting dove
In such moods, there’s space to think, compose. To learn the ways of energy and love Symbolised by blessings from above.
In the crowded Mall, the shoppers shove The special mood of peace I fear eludes We lose the sense of silence and the dove
In public life, we quarrel and oppose We lose the way to our fine treasure trove We lose the symbols and the deep repose.
Give me your hand without its heavy glove As we caress, we value human love. A mood so stilled, oh, fluttering of the dove No wind to destroy peace nor rain to flood
How my heart speaks 