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
Category: poetry
Now is lost
The face that was familiar now is lost
You seem as far away as is the moon
My heart has paid for you the savage cost
The face that was so loved, by now is lost
And my own inner being is fear- tossed
Though five long, weary years have wandered past
I no longer fear to meet my doom
The face that was familiar now is lost
Love seems far away, like a new moon
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Connections,maps and roads
Roman roads connected in straight lines
The cities they had built in wealthy times
The remains of one goes past my garden gate
Do ghosts of Roman legions pass at night?
I like to see connections,maps and roads
Others love old cities ,walls and moats
My road ran to Lincoln near the Wash
Migrating birds and swans go there to rest
Going South, there is the Pilgrim’s Way
Canterbury, Becket,murder, prayer
Julius Caesar, Deal, the Roman hordes
Boudicea, and her fighting Lords
Layers of history, meaning,love and death
Still we argue what should be our path
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No Summer Dresses
Women can’t wear frocks and aprons now
We have to look like men but well endowed
No man would wear a cardigan so long
Behind his wardrobe it would soon be flung
Shorts are hot in summer, I shall sigh
Why do women have to have a fly?
If you need to pee while in a wood
A skirt provides some cover for the flood
I’d like a dress like mother used to wear.
As we walked to Grandad’s, she had flair
She knitted lacy jumpers for the heat
Even knitted wool socks for my feet
We look like alien creatures from elsewhere
I’m going to wear my sundress, I don’t care.
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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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Heart and art
Limestone’s softness lets its cracks appear
Wildflowers,daisies,foxgloves love to grow
While little rivers to the South Tyne veer
Alston on the hill to me is dear
The main street in the winter’s under snow
Limestone’s softness lets its cracks appear
Granite hard as marble seems to jeer
Limestone lets the seeds and grass stay,
While little rivers to the South Tyne veer
The savage Pennines can cause panic fear
Their shadow in the sun, a fearsome layer
Limestone’s softness lets its cracks appear
Do we shift our vision far and near?
The panorama of the Lakes is fair
The little rivers to the South Tyne veer
Limestone,like a woman, let’s love grow
Thus it is creative ,heart and Art
Limestone’s softness lets broad cracks appear
Thus streams, well filled with seeds, are made home there
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One tear
A silver tear rolled lonely as sliced moon
Down my pallid cheek and wet my lip
Your loss turned me to sadness and damp gloom
My future seemed, not promising, but doomed
The icy nails of death gave me a nip
A little tear rolled lonely as lost moons
Yet, in my mind, I heard L Cohen’s tunes
“There ain’t no cure for love” on this our trip
Your loss turned me to sadness ,clouds of gloom
Yet soft, deep darkness need not lead to doom
Come,I’ll take a lover, board a ship
A starry tear rolled lonely as new moon
I will love,I ‘ll seek for new hope soon
Will I descend to stealing from a skip?
Your loss sent me to sadness like a room
I need no LSD to take a trip
My open senses give me what I miss
A silver tear rolled lonely as cruel moon
Your loss turned me to beauty,life resumes
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In honour of Paul Tillich
Paul Tillich gave our spirit proper place.
He showed us courage as a space to dwell.
He wrote for us and left us with his grace
With hope he might well speak and he might tell.
So many people ignored Fascist speech
And lived with mind cut off from their own soul
With pen in hand he wrote his soul to reach
And touch us as we strive towards the whole.
Expelled from his own country, he wrote on
Continuing during tortuous war long years
He lived, he loved ,he wrote, he died and then
His books continue to dispatch our fears.
For many men have lived and have destroyed.
Tillich showed us how to face the void
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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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My first attempt: wind and eye
An ancient one roomed building was once home
Lit and warmed by fire,heat upward flowed
The smoke escaped through one small hole or “eye”
The winter wind would fight to get inside.
Like a human eye, it was a breach
The bones of head and face allow this reach
We must see out and not live all within
Wolves, those metaphors. might bite our skin
Enclosed spaces need selected gaps
Few would enjoy choking in a trap.
We need a way to breath, to see, to touch
Sophisticated means, this eye to watch
Sitting round the fire we hear Wind howl
Through the eye, we see the moon,our jewel
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Entertainment,sadism, power
On a hilltop not so far from Rhyl
Mother took us to the Zoo as Mothers will
The wind was strong and cold, the air was harsh
Although it was in August, not in March
Vultures in enclosures chained by leg
Like convicts in a prison full of dread
When they vainly tried to get away
I felt their faith and hope dismayed
Who had chosen birds like these to show?
Even God himself would never know
Entertainment,sadism, power
Making people pay and children cower
When we got back to the station I was sick
What cruel minds played such a trick?
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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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Evolution, accident, who cares?
The Enlightment brought error and despair
Science can’t give a meaning to our lives
In two World Wars we seem to make that clear
Satan looked out puzzled from his lair
The evil done by men was a surprise
The Enlightment brought error and despair
The fabric of the world is ripped and torn
The war between the wealthy never dies
In two World Wars we seem to make that clear
Evolution, accident, who cares
With the pill ,no woman can deny
The Enlightment brought error and despair
Now we shop while wearing our nightmares
Haunted faces lifted with no pride
In two World Wars we seem to have that clear
Jesus in his wooden tower sighs
Almost human, he has turned away
The Enlightment brought error and despair
After two World Wars what else is clear?
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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 do not want to hear their their poignant calls
Everything is whirling round my mind,
The lack of government , the words unkind
That the poor are short of food and clothes
We deny it, everybody knows
Sudden gusts of wind mock these old trees
Does the lure of nature disappear
When the butterflies have gone away
Yet the stinging wasps are here to stay?
Once tortured now abandoned refugees
Can’t make phone calls, have no mental ease
We make our own defences into walls
We do not want to hear their their poignant calls
Oh,Lord God take the beam from out my eye
I want to know the worst before I die
S
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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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All shall be well
At first I craved to stay on in our house
A place familiar, comforting as love
Our bed the centre, loss and grief held close
The feel of wool, the blankets and the rugs
My clothes had travelled while for him I cared
So many I felt anxious, dispossessed
They in chaos, heaped on my arm chairs
Were a testament of my distress
Books were scattered like small petals lost
Flowers of blood and bone did not resist
Everwhere my pens and paper tossed
His pyjamas, ties,his books had wanderlust
Once familiar, now a haunted house
Everywhere I see the gaps he left
As my senses on these places pounce
I unravel slowly from the warp and weft
The narrow bed, the silence and the stair
The waking,sleeping, dreaming, am I here?
Should I run or confront sweet despair?
Grief and loss bring on the panic fear.
I wait, unknowing that is what I do
There is no end,but torture, oh damned pain
Until the mind has finished its review
Sketched its maps, made ready what remains
So at this inflection point I dwell.
Listening to the silence, all is well
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You’re on the edge of my view
When anyone comes here, when anyone phones
I wonder if it is you
When shadows are moving, when nightfall appears
I cry ‘cos I’m still feeling blue
And in the soft morning,I see your dear face
Dream thoughts mixed into my view
People say I must not cry, tears should not enter my eye
I shall pretend that it’s dew
I still cannot paint or draw, wondering what I saw
You’re on the edge of my view
But when I turn my head around, there’s nothing but birds passing by
How can I love someone new?
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Life,the art that needs our hearts
When must we be cautious, when let go?
Who knows how to choose the better part
When to use our will and when to flow
When to plant the seed and watch it grow
When ought we be cautious, when let go?
When to bend as wilder winds can blow
How to live,the art that needs our hearts
When may we be cautious, when let go?
Who knows how to guess the better part?
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Who loved the words, who loved the entire song
The eyes that gazed on me with love profound
The hand the touched me with caresses true
The one who made me happy on earth’s ground
Who loved the words, who loved the entire song
Who loved me with rare subtlety of mind
Whose love was strong, whose being was most kind
And thus with all his qualities imbued
The eyes that gazed, delighted I was found
The hand, the touch, the giving , taking true
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There is something sinister unread
I found a strange man sleeping in my bed
He had the static creepiness I dread
Still alive but seeming to be dead
is this a dream that dwells inside my head
I should have dreams of Errol Flynn instead
Look where that damn garden path has led
Oh,God, the cat has come back to be fed
He eats frogs before they are quite dead
The Sermon on the Mount is still unread
There was noone in my marriage bed
There is something sinister unread
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Our mood affects the colour of the sky
The park sloped to a river behind trees
The other side was a large burial ground
Where my father’s body lay, bereaved
In the flowered park we sat and grieved
We heard the thwack of tennis balls resound
The park sloped to a river behind trees
Children can’t imagine mother’s pleased
When her strong support lies underground
As my father’s body lay, bereaved
Children torment others , poisoned bees
Sensing sweet fragility inside
The park sloped down to hide behind tall trees
Now my mother lies where I ‘ve dripped tears
As if I hope a flowering shrub will shade
And father’s body lies with mother’s, pleased
Memories may well alter .don’t deny
Our mood affects the colour of the sky
The park sloped to a river. grave the trees
I once hoped that my dead could be retrieved
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Gathering up the treasures from the sands
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Gathering up the treasures from the sands
The sea shores of the world in dark,in sun
Where children play till all the day is done
The mystery of the deep, of whales and men
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Sailing in from distant foreign lands
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Gathering up the treasures till the end
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Will love last us?
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
The interest and the courtesy and care
Learning skills together makes love faster
Best avoid name calling, like you bastard!
Testing to destruction, do not dare
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
If you have a friend then you must ask her
if you treat her lovingly and fair
Learning skills together brings love faster
In view of lockdown, you will not now pat her
Nor with a gimlet eye be keen to stare
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
Be still, my friend, we are put off by chatter
But do not fret about the clothes you wear
Sewing darning, mending holes love’s better
There’s love around and much more going spare
Hope the fabric’s tough and will not wear
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
Learning skills together love will last us
,
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Fuzzy numbers
In calculus we find mysterious forms
Minute numbers disappear,return
Zero is not nothing, but a cloud
Of motes that dance in sun or disappear
Fuzzy logic too has mystery
The truth says nothing is mere black or white
Just more or less and these may overlap
Dissolving into clouds upon a map
Numbers have no feelings but make form
I once saw them moving, patterned, in my dreams
Golden letters telling me the way
The truth is often very hard to see
Like those tiny half alive mind dots
Flying through our minds like dust flies in the sun
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Take your love and in your arms enfold
Did anyone believe blind rage expressed
Could benefit the agent without harm?
Did anyone read Freud and then digest?
Feelings need the heat of blacksmith’s fires
Held inside until they find their form
An image worthy of our right desire
As well as rage, we should mistrust love too
Be backward in expression till more’s known
Or risk an avalanche of cruelty.
Take care of others, they are not our fools
From sacred meetings all mankind has grown
We misuse folk to test our worth and tools
Holding in the inner fires our wish
The blackness of the heart can turn to gold
No contradiction hides such sacredness
Take your love and in your arms enfold.
The future of the world is growing cold
We liked to have the choice for rage and death
Until we found the charred remains of bliss
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Ready to begin
What is not a sin may be a crime
Tie me up and burn me,I’m malign
Don’t they say this is the best of times
With tablets. smartphones, free verse with few lines
Though in the end you have you make your name
There is no need to hang it on a sign
What is never done may be a sin
Let me out.I’m ready to begin
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Fortune favours the brave
Why fortune favours courage I don’t know
But if we’re too afraid, we do not see
We hate so much that fateful heavy blow
Cringing, shrinking, with half closed eye
As if our vision’s blocked by heavy snow
We are more brave when others share our view
Fortune favours courage, yet be slow
Fear makes sight a tunnel, sadly true
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Waiting
Why is it so hard for us to wait?
Why be tense and make ourselves feel ill?
Why not use the time to meditate?
Do all human beings feel this way?
Think of Jews in cattletrucks,crammed, still
Why is it so hard for us to wait?
We feel our own pain and we fear mistakes
As we live we’re ground by many mills
Could one use the time to meditate?
Life is short and tension lays it waste
I see tiny wren upon the sill
Must it so hard for me to wait?
In mind madness, I can’t see your face
I lose all feeling; body, heart are chilled
Should I waste the time , not meditate?
If a jug is empty it is full
Full of air and happy to be dull
Why is it so hard for us to wait?
Why not keep quite still, is my fate?
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Am I wrong?
I thought I’d write another villanelle
I like repeated lines as in a song
The music seems to permeate my cells
Inside my entire being music dwells
Would I write another villanelle?
A triolet is shorter, love is long
Musing, I decided villanelle.
I like repeated lines but am I wrong?
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The change is come
The tender glance, the heart, the love displayed
Where will I find a home now you are gone
Where in the abyss is such a place?
Where the eyes which will contain my gaze?
The voice that spoke to me can’t be replaced
At this turning point , the change will come
The tender glance, the heart, the love displayed
Where will I find a home,my love is gone?
How my heart speaks 