If you think of Auschwitz think of this
Your children will not die by means of gas
All of us will walk that final path
But we have lived our lives so on we pass
The Jews of Europe killed without a word.
The death of God no longer feels absurd
What they might have given forever lost.
Prescription murder,there will be a cost.
As we walk around in obscene dress
The rational and objective caused this mess
Be thankful that our God did not choose us.
Yet being unchosen and alive is worse.
Turn back, live again, he asked of me
Do not wander in this darkness anymore
One false step might give death victory
We are each connected to that tree
The sunlit top, the roots hid in earth’s floor
Come back, live again, he asked of me
While we live, we’ll live with dignity
Not scrabbling for the gold in blood and gore
One false step will give death victory
The kindness of the golden light was clear
And left an image in my mind’s deep core
Come back, live your life, he then soothed me
Do not wonder now why you are here
We’re here to live and living shall restore
What our suffering self has found so dear
I had never seen the Light before
Only Christ the Tyger with his roar
Come back, live through pain, he asked of me
One right step will give love victory
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time
You did not converse with me in words
You were simply present with your Light
Nowhere did I feel your power and might
You were no eagle, but a little bird
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time.
Who made our language with its subtle rhymes?
The ancient people had their well trained Scribes
You were always there,oh gentle Light
You gave me warmth, you changed my too fixed sight
A comforter , a Spirit, how describe?
I ‘ll try to get it right a final time.
The agony inside me lost its bite
I wanted to go on, to be alive
You do not always show your golden Light
We do not know when we at last arrive
We do not reach this meeting place by strife
I ‘ve tried to get it right this final time
I never saw such Gold until that night
I remember everything you said
As we lay together in our bed
The light of joy lit up my heart and soul
I remember everything we did
On the happy night that we were wed
Fulfilment in our very bones is bred
And from our minds the devils have all fled
As we’re taken back into the fold.
For one small hour in Eden we were glad.
The hatred and the pain for now are shed
With love and hope our lives can be more bold.
Even now when you have gone from sight
I miss the cat that slept upon my bed.
I miss my husbands presence in the night
I miss the words of Love from him who’s dead.
I miss the cat that slept upon my bed
For God is dead unless I find new light
The lonely darkness fills my soul with dread.
I missed the man that slept with me in bed
I miss his presence in the dead of night
In my sleep I dream my unthought thoughts
Creating tragic plays and loathsome wars
I feel the feelings which i have not sought
Healing is not created with an ought
Neither does it come from Santa Claus
In my sleep I dream my unthought thoughts
When I waken up my dreams feel short
They’re more akin to poetry than prose
I feel strange feelings which I have not sought
I feel the pain in my unclothed heart
How little children suffer loss uncaused
In my sleep I dream my unthought thoughts.
I will feel the feelings I abhorr
This is love and we must feel far more
In my dreams I think my unthought thoughts
I will feel the feelings I’ve not sought
I spent my life on books on how to live
Then when death was near I really did
I saw the little smile on my friend’s face
I saw the shining eyes, the lost embrace
I gathered up these books and threw them out
I wasted time in thought and curious doubt
Let’s leave our heads alone and use our sense
To hear a bird sing to enthrall his spouse
To see a swallow dip and fly away\
To see a little orange butterfly
Sailing like a flower across the sky
The silken skin of children and their glee
When father stops to show them the cat’s flea
The smile of mother, her security
Containing all their woe transformed and free
To gather in sweet memories of joy
Noone else can know what our life ‘s for
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
Not much contrast from the soft silk sky
No birds nor any brightness, light won’t play
The ones who act so manic are not gay
If there is no truth, there are no lies
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
On our backs on Sutton Bank we lay
My acts outcry, my grief I shall defy
No birds nor any life. the light won’t play
Who is born a hunter.who the prey?
The lion has lost the unicorn nearby
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
I think of brexit, oh the blush,the shame
The spirits flatten;rise up,do not die
No birds nor any life, the light won’t play
I wonder what the loss is or the gain
I wish we were in Suffolk by the Bly
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
No birds, no life ,I’m languid, would you stay?
Poetry and lovely images
She’d never seem rainwater deeper than eyes
Mystery undisguised.
Round the big puddle she ran and ran;
Too much for her dolly’s pan.
By reflections of trees she was hypnotised.
Curiousity’s often so wise
Oh,my dear sister what see you there?
I hope it’s a vision fair.
What are these ships and the tugs and the tide
Where are the sailors who died?
This is an ocean and I’m in my boat
Come sisters dear,let us float.
We’ll never see daddy again, ‘cos he’s here
And down her face travelled one tear.
I see him afar off, he’s meeting the Lord
There’s the archangel with his sharp sword.
We cannot follow,no, we must go back
We each must stay on our own track.
Three little children with long golden hair
On this road going to where?
Once three small sisters ,but now only two;
Eyes of one green, the other’s blue.
By the park gate by a pool of sea rain
We shall be three again.
One in a pushchair and one gripping tight.
I push my dear sisters into the light.
Keep hold of the handle and never let go
I loved my sisters so.
Keep hold of my hands as Dad crosses the sea.
Don’t hope for what cannot be.
I told her it’s only a rainwater pool,
Held in God’s hand like a jewel.
But she saw the patterns and she saw the tides
Which all human beings must ride.
For nothing is “only” and nothing is “just”.
All we can live by is trust
The crushing grief when someone chooses death
When life had shown much promise and much hope
Turns the ones who loved to find new paths
Some may sin, encouraged by cruel wrath
Against the one who chose the wicked rope
The shock of grief at such too early death
Others freeze and cannot take a breath
Scarcely moving as their mind elopes
Making then impossible their path
The mountains of deep grief I could not pass
Until a warm gold light caressed my heart
The wounds of grief , the sacrifice, the Mass
Do not dwell in darkness and distress
Follow me he murmured while we start
I will help you find a different path
The golden light had brought for me a chart
The sea of life had ripples ,brilliant sparks
The suffering and the grief from such a death
Turned the one who loved onto this path.
The face that was familiar is no more.
The world we made seems empty and remote.
I do not feel the love I felt before.
I’m homeless world-less, comfortless at core
Wandering like the Jews with torn ripped coats.
The face that was familiar is no more
Why can this man’s life not be restored?
I cannot eat, a lump has blocked my throat
I do not feel the love I felt before.
In my nightmares, I look for a door.
Or I search the lake from my small boat
That face that was familiar is no more
I beg for grace like some abandoned whore.
That time itself evaporates is gross.
I do not feel the love I felt before
The well is empty,like my husband’s clothes.
When they are gone, what can I then propose?
The face that was familiar is no more.
The love I lost can never be restored.
In the bitter depths of winter night
Boil the kettle, lose your human rights
If you feel depressed then eat our bread
It will remove the skull from off your head
Are you feeling lonesome in the crowd?
Buy our lipstick then men will be cowed
Did you think ceramic hobs were best?
Come to us and have your IQ blessed
I want a pan for halogen hot plates
I’d ask the cat but it’s out on a date
I need to boil my head and clean my feet
I guess that I ain’t smelling very sweet
Does Confession really help the damned?
God have mercy as the Devil can’t
It seems quite clear that maths should take the blame
As quantity and quality. are not the same
The Hebrew temple used the number pi.
And pi is not a quantity, I say.
So pi is not as a measurable as 10.
It’s decimal expansion never ends
There is no pattern, how God condescends.
Don’t think about this funny stuff it drives you round the bend
by Mike Flemming copyright
My old blue fountain pen allows
The ink across this page to flow
Like wet paint from an artist’s brush,
And words come in a rush.
Enchanted by the hand that writes .
Bewitched by art,beauty alights
The script is like a music score
Through which we step as through a door,
Imagination’s home.
As,mysteriously, to you, to me,
The spirits of our hearts are tamed ,
By rhythms of pen,of brush, of mind,
They enter vision quite unplanned,
Like moths to flutter softly round
Fire joined heart and hand
The pen slows down,the hand grows still,
And ,just as dreams at daybreak will,
They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone
Like dew dies in hot sun
When red sun drops and cooling night rolls in
Darkness masks both danger and our vision
Ancient minds fear day won’t come again
Courage for the delicate seems thin
We wrestle with our indecision
When sun drops and night rolls darkly in
But now , new stricken by a dread of sin
Who shall aid the souls derision?
Our ancient minds fears day won’t come again
When we sleep we we’re entertained within
Deft dreams squander all illusion
When the sun drops and the night rolls in
In reverie we’e loved and so open
Then fancy turns to full communion
While ancient minds fear day wont come again
And so it was that our own life began
When sperm leaped up in proud confusion.
When deep sun dropped and a new night rolled in
When ancient hearts cried Day shall come again”
Did the earth weep when we paved the streets
Tarmac. cobbles, flat slabs of grey stone
Leaving merely holes for trees long roots?
Covering in our cities all that’s deep
Startling ancient graves and bits of bone
Did the earth weep when we paved the streets?
Motorways increased that tarmacked roof
As we drive our ruinous cars alone
Leaving there no holes for trees long roots
In the hidden depths beneath our feet
Live the riches, seeds awaiting growth
Did the earth weep when we paved the streets?
As the trees bloom we see our deceit
We want it all but do not pay nor mourn
Leaving there small holes for trees long roots
Once an orchard, now so sterile, torn
The gardens became car parks bleak, forlorn
Did the earth quake when we paved the streets
Leaving merely holes for trees long roots?
My waking mind is over lain by dream
images that tremble into schemes.
Fractured glassy mirrors craze the floor
I see a way to go, where is the door?
I saw your soul like that of a wild bird
Someone other guided me to act
Deep inside my voice had been unlocked
I sang the psalms and then a lullaby
Not aware in thought that you would die.
I fed you with a teaspoon the mashed fish
From a plate as good as one might wish
Like a little child you tried your best
You smiled at me and gazed like one who’s blessed
You sat up with a brighter face at last
Then lay back and God knows all the rest
Oh, don’t go yet ,my darling,I am here
The floor of heaven came down amidst my tears
Made of sumptuous satin, gold,revered
For a little moment it hung low
Then it rose and took you in its glow
I saw your soul like that of a wild bird
Taken by the Power who spoke the Word
A sheet of tears fell down from my closed eyes
It’s hard ,so hard when those you love must die
Mary wants to get a letter
This means she’ is feeling better.
Here’s the postman with his sack
Coming up the garden track
she hears the letterbox go bang
The postman seems to talk in slang
Ear ye are pet ain’t got much
Oh dear Mary mind your crutch.
I have no crutch I have a walker
You are just a nosey parker
No I’m from Warsaw,madam dear.
Well you speak English without fear.
Yes I know I’m feeling proud.
In this country it’s allowed.
Yes said. Mary I know that.
If you’re not sure I’ll ask my cat
Emile opened one green eye.
I’m not here to be a spy.
If Eastern Europe is is in trouble
Get the cats out at the double
That’s what Mrs Johnson said
She saw Boris on the bed
She brought her cat a golden collar.
That’s why Boris’s face turned yellow
There are babies and young children
Little faces all a- quivering.0
See they look like Jews tormented
By the Nazis men demented.
But would you have had the courage.
To stand up to the Nazis savage
How long will we support Ukraine?
Let us not ignore their pain
The Russian wolf is riding high
Threatening Europe from the sky.
The Jews and Yiddish have all gone
From Europe to Babylon.
We heard we must show more courage
But who hears the voices savage?
We feel like children in our hearts
Prepare us adults that’s a start.
Survival as a moral wreckage
Comforts Satan sends a message.
You do not want to know the worst.
The human race may be accursed
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time
You did not converse with me in words
You were simply present with your Light
Nowhere did I feel your power and might
You were no eagle, but a little bird
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time.
Who made our language with its subtle rhymes?
The ancient people had their well trained Scribes
You were always there,oh gentle Light
You gave me warmth, you changed my too fixed sight
A comforter , a Spirit, how describe?
I ‘ll try to get it right a final time.
The agony inside me lost its bite
I wanted to go on, to be alive
You do not always show your golden Light
We do not know when we at last arrive
We do not reach this meeting place by strife
I ‘ve tried to get it right this final time
I never saw such Gold until that night
The sky is stark, the air is cool and still
The black cat’s run, the birds unfold all day
I sit down here and with my totty pray
Ye cast o’ foolish thoughts, you raped my will
. We’ve each enraged the bureaucratic mill.
Oh frigid purse, I never meant to pay!
The sky ‘s a-spark, the air is warm and shrill
The saturnine demoted knelled their way
With this feathered pounce, my sample quill,
I cite the cheque and date it for next May.
Oh, tit for cat, the tiger’s bed ‘s astray.
Yer life is settled by a harlot’s will
The sky ‘s a shark, the air is sharper still.
My path has been obscured by heavy rain
Tangled ancient brambles bite my flesh.
I am lost, will I get home again?
No one here will help me they all laugh
The rain that fell was not a cleansing wash
My path has been obscured by heavy rain
I did no wrong but still I feel ashamed.
My mind and my emotions sadly crashed
I am lost I can’t get home again
Wandering on my own without a path
Have I become a beggar, poor unwashed?
My path has been obscured by heavy rain.
Life is not a jigsaw nor a game
Did anyone at all ask where I was?
Feeling lost I can’t get home again
I must find a way I have no map.
Take me, take me, take me from this trap
My path was washed away by heavy rain
I’ve come so far, I wish my route was plain.
The pebbled beach on which we walked at dawn
The sun was dancing singing stone to stone
The sea was pale as silk and gently ran
The tide was coming in, the day began
Why is my memory so deficient here?
I remember little but you near
I remember Portland Bill at dusk
The sea was wilder then with many thrusts
Happiness was like a golden shawl
A world like Eden, man before the Fall
Today they say, illusion, I say, no
What matters is where this insight makes you go.
The fruits of meditation are its test
May we be generous, may our souls be blessed
Copyright © Katherine
Saturday was shopping then a walk Epping,Ongar,Finchingfield by car
Reading book reviews and chewing stalks
Buttercups and meadows,Henry Moore
Driving back from Chelmsford, cornfields flamed
Smoke and fire and earth, the sun dismayed
Farmers working hard, a harvest, grain
The sky through mist a cobalt blue displayed
Standon with its fords and wandering cows
Little rivers,Essex, flowing down
The Stort joins with the Lea,a gurglimg sound
Water for the Thames and mossy ground
The earth feels like my body sacrificed
The artist’s canvas stretched ,a matricide
Jesus does not live within the church
Like the wild birds of the sky he’s free
Jesus is in no parrot with a perch
Nor does he require a bended knee
In the ancient buildings there’s some air
Quiet years of prayer have left a mark.
Yet its sad destructions caused despair.
The abbot of old Glastonbury stark
The restless ashes spread as in the air
The winds of love are heartless yet demure
Would it be a way to make things fair?
If there is a God he must be there.
Not with those who scandal eyes the poor
Soon they’ll have no shoes nor much to wear
Whores do not pay tax, oh what allure.
Christ and Mary Magdalene come by
How economics causes men to lie
The power of mathematics made the bomb
Soon the the earth shall burn to kingdom come.
From the high peak of the middle years
We walk downwards slowly but it’s clear.
We lose our parents siblings other kin
Who will now agree we are born to win?
Our bodies stiffen while we’re yet alive
Who will die,atone,does God decide?
From the man he takes the caring wife
The heart itself will harden in the strife
Last Man standing is a bag of bones
In his grave the king decays alone.
Come here ,Kathryn, come here quick,‘Cos your Daddy’s very sick.Run as fast as fast, you can,Get the priest, get Father Dan.Run,run went my eight year old feet,Down the lane and up the streetI ran right up to Father’s door,[Does God live there any more?]“Come please, Mam said Daddy’s ill”“Oh”,said Father,”that I will.”Revving up his motor bikeWith The Sacrament beside;He lifted me up onto the backAnd roared off up the church-side track.It was the best thrill of my life;If only Daddy had not died.
The enclosed garden had a peaceful air.
Nothing untoward could happen there.
The irises are famous and diverse
No thorns to prick the finger or to curse.
We sat beneath the tree still holding hands
And let the peace we felt on us descend.
But now I am alone I feel despair
Where now shall I love, where shall I care?
..
We cannot love another till we find
A felt connection to the heart and mind
When we’re anxious we cannot perceive
The mind and feelings shuttered may deceive.
Patience is so hard when we feel sad.
The tears in our own eyes make us feel bad
I look up our small street,
To see if you are coming.
I don’t know what time it is,
But I think I hear you humming.
You sang sweet songs for us,
And you could whistle well.
You wore an old tweed jacket
You loved us,I could tell.
I look out there each day,
But I can’t see your tall, thin shape.
I saved your Woodbine packet,
It made me feel some hope.
What does death’s door mean?
Where has Daddy gone?
When will be the welcome day,
When we hear his songs again?
I’ll sing like him all day,
I’ll dream of him all night.
I hope he won’t be angry,
If his cigarettes won’t light!
He can’t write his own songs now.
He went too far away, too soon.
I’ll write down what I think he sang,
And I’ll invent the tune.
I hear him singing now,
He dwells inside my heart.
And though I still can’t see his face,
I recognise his Art.
There were three of us on this motorbike,
Father Dan with me,
And he had Jesus in his bag.
That makes the total three.
Transubstantiation, oh my Lord
I looked at his black bag.
Is Jesus inside there, I thought?
Should it have a tag?
It’s a secret never told
Father Dan gave it me to hold.
So I had Jesus in my lap,
No wonder now I feel a gap.
We zoomed off up an unmade road
As fast as Dan could go.
I felt bewildered and bemused,
I loved my Daddy so.
Father Dan took back his bag,
And went inside our house.
I got my marbles out to roll,
I feared I’d see a mouse.
So Three of had taken a ride
And after that, my Dad had died.
Father Dan said Mass today
Still with Jesus, so I cried.
The sun ignores the dark leaved compact tree.
All is silent waiting some decree.
Like a prisoner standing in the dock
Imagining the key that turns the lock
is it bird song, is it my alarm?
In the winter morning holds less charm
Once I had a loved one in my bed.
Are my feelings better left unsaid?
How my heart sings 