Category: poetry

The dam burst

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

Her voice

The ice in the eye
Invisible glass
Splinters the vision
Light can harass.

Panic makes feints
Like dancing with skates
She passed out in angst
Traumatic the date

The clutch at the heart
Oxygen, gas
Loosen your grip
The glory, the waste

Ariel,Israel,
Where is the horse?
Where are the olives?
Where is her voice?

Our bodies and their songs

Your breath became my spirit,made me live
You touch me as I breathe air in and out
I feel your presence in my heart’s inside

You have made our bodies, there’s no doubt
Growing from two cells, the urge is strong
The body’s wishes are not sinful now

In the schizoid era, flesh seems wrong
The intellectuals are the most admired
Yet we need our bodies and their songs

Ideas, more than loving, are desired
Sex and our poor bodies make us sin
Yet th damned chaste sing in Hell’s own choirs

Breath of God, the clay made into flesh
We continue in the holy work
No creation can be kept suppressed

May our lively bodies be well blessed
Loving into being all the world
Breathing in and breathing out God’s dust

THE MEMORY LASTS

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

Deep down in the earth

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

Rehab is not kind when nearly dead

To get you fit for death they took you in
The Rehabilitation of the dead ?
They got you up and sent you to a gym

You had a bed, the light was very dim
So those new books I brought were never read
To get you fit for death they forced you in

You fell onto my lap, it was no sin
Your face as black as Satan’s in his bed
They pulled you up for torture in a gym


They taunted you like Nazi’s, what’s to win?
Tell me what the liars wrote down or said
To get you fit for death they forced you in

When Christ was killed, they hung him on a hill
If God is tortured, where should man be led?
Who imagined dead men in a gym?

When the trouble came the nurses fled
You died in A and E , there was no bed
To prepare you for you death they asked me in
You cried,I want to die, but they just grinned

Trembling with anxiety will circulate your blood

They say we ought to exercise
Walk up and down the stairs
Never use a Lift instead
Despite the tear and wear

I think I’ve found the answer
It’s as simple as can be
Just shake your limbs and head about
While you watch TV

But if you’re very nervous
That will do you good
Trembling with anxiety
Will circulate your blood

Or if you see men following you
Then run until they stop
They might be a fantasy
So do not call a cop

Agitation’s terrible
But even that’s ok
You won’t be able to sit down
Ot even kneel to pray

So have a nervous breakdown
You will live to ninety nine
You may not enjoy it much
But it fits my little rhyme

I suppose the answer is now plain
We have to choose our way
Loose and happy on the sands
Or shivering & trembling all day

When you die the Coffin men
Will thank you if you’r slim
It might be a real nervous breakdown
Is better than many a gym

I fried the honey moon

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

The holes and ink are fashion

I’ve got liquid Quink on all my clothes
I thought that everyone would like to know
I’ve got moth holes in my sweaters like small eyes
But my winter coat is still almost alright

I’ve had this coat for fifteen years,it’s brown
It drapes quite well, the maker is renowned
I must put it on to take a walk outside
To see which plants have died and which survived

My husband would be very shocked indeed
My tights have gaping holes upon my knees
The ink has penetrated to my vest
God knows where that Quink will wander next

If your clothes are damaged, do not cry
At least 5,000 moths have learned to fly

God with you

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

High the cost

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

I regret nothing

Don’t send me an apron for Xmas
When all that I want is a glove
A glove for the oven
Its hands must be frozen
Let’s drown the old oven in love.

Don’t send me a card on my birthday
I cannot remember your name
Just bake me a cake
I prefer it to steak
Don’t limp unless you are lame

Don’t change the sheets every week,dear
For washing them makes them wear thin
Just give me a brush
I’ll beat off the fluff
Then we can both have some fun

Don’t give me bacon for breakfast
God won’t let Jews eat it yet
His aversion to swine
Is what makes him divine
The fig tree is dead I regret

As waves die

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

In the desert grey

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 darkness full and slow

Let them see your feet without their shoes

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

Owls surprise

Photo by Francesco De tommaso on Pexels.com

Look without and see the claret sky
The sun is falling like Greek wine tonight
As sparrows hide in holly,safe from eyes

We need protection till our minds sublime
Into dusty corners shine their lights
Look without and see the curious sky

Tell your heart, your truth, though others lie
Seem rewarded with both cash and spite
Oh, sparrows hide in holly, leaves awry

A man is called an emperor , yet he dies
Look without and see the fatal signs
The sky is turning panic to delight

At last, philosopher, the silence sighs
Throw away the your thoughts, cold or benign
As sparrow safe in holly, shut their eyes

The hawk may soar across the sacred lines
Where patterns of complexity arise
Look without and see the open sky
When sparrows rest in holly, owls surprise

It speaks

seashore under blue sky
Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

This poem is written in the sonnet form,
And yet I have my doubts about its shape
Though nearly to that structure it conforms
There may be holes where nightmare faces gape.

It looks and speaks just as a sonnet would
And talks of metaphysical concerns.
Do we conclude, as poets and readers should,
That in our schizoid age we cannot learn?

For humans may be decked in clothes of wolves;
And lambs be dressed in lion’s fearsome furs.
Thus, sense is tricked and problems are unsolved.
Landscapes etched, yet details seem quite blurred.

It looks like one,it feels like one,it speaks;
Yet from these words, does human feeling leak?

The shape and form

Put your painful feelings into form
The sonnet,villanelle, the triolet
The shape controls the anguish of the storm

Our wounds can shape our vision and our thoughts
Remember school, where bullies made you pay?
Put your painful feelings into form

Words like daggers pierce the loving heart
Oh, memory must not cut us off from play
The play controls the violence of the storm

Let all thought of vengeance now depart
Or our spirit blackens, then decays
Put those painful feelings into form

In its time the sun will bring new dawns
Tears will wash our souls from black to grey
The words compress,contain the bloody storm

Do not give the monsters time of day
Conversation does not always pay
Put your painful feelings into form
The shape will heal the anguish like a balm

I sing of colour and of love

The butterfly is like a flower
which moves its station every hour.
Oh,happy is he on the wing.
The vision makes me quick to sing.
The flower is open in the sun,
And to its heart, true love shall come.
The bees shall feast and fly replete
With nectar they are now full sweet.
I sing of colour and of love;
Blessings that rain down from above.
I wish to be a flower too.
Ah,that the bee could but be you.

From the bitter winter of the heart






We  feel the bitter winter of the heart
The icy hand ,the cruel teeth’s sharp bite
When close friends die, when lovers break apart

Terse,cruel words can make our deep self smart
The weak have  little power to make things right
So feel the bitterest winter of their hearts

Humans may like fruit be much too tart
Thus fantasied revenge  can  blind with light
As close friends die or false lovers depart

While we suffer, we seek maps and charts
Which path to  follow,which leads us aright
From  the bitter winter of the heart?

The muscles clench, the ligaments are taut
Faces frown, in mirrors demons  shriek
If close friends die or lovers haste to part

The pain of loss, the tears that agitate
The mental functions,all have gone on strike
Stricken in  the  winter of the heart

Retaliation , bitter, wants to fight.
Yet we have little time to see the Light
We   curse the bitter winter of the heart
Instinct, humbler. finds for us new charts

Willing





Do not cultivate a bitter heart
Nor spread the seeds of malice where you go
Accept the worst, be willing, though it smarts

Do not plot your hatred on a chart
Stand and feel , accept what we can’t know
Do not cultivate a bitter heart

When we suffer deeply, when death parts
The agony is torment passing slow
Accept the worst, be willing, wounds do smart

Though we have no dagger,words are sharp
The little snails have nothing but teach slow
Do not cultivate a bitter heart

Do not be the tiger as it snarls
Fate and death and anguish hurt us most
Accept, be first, be willing, though it smarts

As we sink down further into low
We see the glow worms, wondrous like lit snow
Open arms and time relieve our hearts
Accept, be patient, willing, that is smart

Are you shrewd, are you astute?



Can your dentist play the flute
The violin or the French Horn?
Do you know that teeth have roots?

Are your shrewd, are you astute
Did you smile when you were born?
Can your dentist play the flute?

Did Abert Einstein play with Newts
Can you love or are you lorn?
Do you know that teeth have roots?

Were you chatty, were you mute?
Did you love in golden corn?
Can your dentist play the flute?

Do the men say,you are cute?
Do they love your curvy form?
Do you know that teeth have roots?

Read the music, play a storm
The Albert Hall is very warm
Can your father play the flute
Do you know that words have roots?


Swear words are so boring nowadays

Now we’re used to hearing “fuck” and “shit”
What words can we use to let off steam?
Oh, what a twit omitting words like “twat”
However will I have erotic dreams?

Few words are forbidden in our books
Little children learn to swear and scream
On the television, some won’t look
As words like this flow out in lengthy streams

Lady Chatterley, you were the cause
But what will be the affect and effect?
Lawrence, you were eager to enjoy
But who could know what others might detect?

I think I shall say ” sorry” when I rage
Would “lies and curses” draw more to my page?

You could not understand

If you came back you would not understand
The death of virtue ,truth and beauty too
And to advertise it,tell lies on demand

In my childhood, that bewitching land
Respect brought out good character to view
If you came you could not understand

Writing with a stick upon the sands
Up the tide will rush and wash out truth
So ,to advertise it,tell lies on demand

Evil,slick , obedient Eichmann stands
No human is as mighty as the noose
Coming back you would not understand

We can split an atom, yet be bland
Drop another bomb on human youth
To hide our sin we tell lies on demand

Once we worshipped Pan with horns and hoof
Now we worship Satan,God’s own proof
f you came back you would not understand
Media will tell lies and make demands

I


Meeting you

I used to see you waiting up the hill
Your shape a cipher,features not yet seen
My heart would smile and I feel tender still

I’d start  to run, while your eyes had their fill
Getting close with kisses like thick cream
I used to see you waiting up the hill

We would get the paper,pay the bill
As love flowed out like water from a stream
My heart would smile and I feel tender still

We walked  the City churches, they were  chill
But beautiful  and complex like a dream
I used to see you waiting up the hill

Now never will you be here,yet I shall
I mistake another person as sun gleams
My heart may smile for I feel tender still

In the night, I woke up with a scream
I felt I too must die, that’s how it seemed
I long to see you waiting up the hill
My heart will smile, I feel  so tender still

 

 

 

Lay down ,lay down,I saw you smile,lay down

I dreamed of you last night, you wore a smile
Fifty years ago you took your life
And left me for the agony, the trial

Since then I’ve had no vision but denial
Your face was absent,cut out by a knife
I dreamed of you last night, your little smile

There was no motive, we had never quarreled
I was blinded, nervous and too shy
You left to me the agony, the trial

Who consoles the woman left in horror?
Sickly on my lonely bed I lay
I dreamed of you last night, you wore a smile

In my view, I could not see tomorrow
Through my suffering I did try to pay
You left to me the agony, the trial

The grief of fifty years came out today
Oh, lay down, baby, lay down, baby, lay
I dreamed that you were here, your face. your smile
You console me now poor lovers reconciled

The silence glows

Aldeburgh,Sizewell,Dunwich Heath
The nuclear bomb shall bring eternal peace
Housed between the town and the Reserve
Its blackness is ignored by little birds

If force deters, then we shall all be saved
Or this our world will vanish without trace
Innocently playing on the shore
Children find old marble unrestored

Birds may sense the blackness of our hearts
For, even though unused, the bombs take part
They are here where Britten once composed
And so the sanctuary ends unsaved,destroyed

In between the lover and his rose
A screen electric in the silence glows

Wait on God,like waiting on a tide.

Wait on God,like waiting on a tide.
The moon exerts her pull with dignity
No human force can change how these seas ride.

We plead with God forever to abide!
Should we fear his great sagacity?
Wait on God as waiting for the tide.

Maybe it is his will which decides
Not ours to go there in audacity
No human force can change how these seas ride.

Do not mock and torment him we flayed
With no control of our temerity
Wait on God be patient towards the tides

When we suffer, we obey our pride
Demand we shall not lose our dignity
No human force can change how great seas ride

For a lover, life has clarity
Within those arms a rich variety
Wait on God,like waiting on a tide.
No human force can change the wild seas ride.

We forget that grief is close to fear

My skin is aching,tender, loss has pierced
My heart needs walls, its boundary has gone.
I miss the touch of love from him so dear |
|
A rack of metal pins brought me tears
Why suffer this till I am quite undone?
My skin is aching,tender, by loss pierced

We forget that grief is close to fear
When alone, we panic, what’s to come?
I ache without the love from him so dear

Psychotic, with no unity, who steers?
My head is so remote,I have no plan
My skin is aching,tender, by loss pierced

Cursed be the One who made our sphere
Since Eden went,by so called sin undone
I ache without the love from someone dear

I should get my cell, St.Julian
Hid inside the church wall, does Love come?
My skin is aching,tender, loss has pierced
Uncaressed by him whom I held dear,