Category: poetry

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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?

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

 

 

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?

 

 

 

 

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

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

 

 

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

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

 

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?

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?

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

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

 

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

 

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

Will love last us?

 

DandelionClocksThe 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

,

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

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

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

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

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?

 

 

 

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?

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?

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

Test your own eyes

I nearly died of laughter when he went out for a drive
Simply,purely, only to test his   bleary eyes
He put his toddler in the back, just to be quite sure
He would not be orphaned if his father crashed the car

To make  it even safer he took his good wife too
Even though she felt quite weak after having flu
They went to Barnard Castle, not just round the  block
The river Tees is very fine,  the Castle on a rock

It was all or nothing;was it murder,suicide
Taking all your loved ones on a really dodgey ride?
The Unconscious has impulses of which we do not know
Like sending cripples out to buy their own food in the snow

What can we deduce from this, is he Head of State
Ascending up to heaven,  does he want to  emigrate?

Carnation, orchid, daffodil and rose

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How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose
Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
Their complex petals form a  living shield
Yet bees with much striped force shall make them yield

Appearances,both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.

As, knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare

.We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,  he her virtue takes.

Beneath the surface, force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?

Copyright © Katherine

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

 

I  wish there were no numbers and no dates

I  wish there were no numbers and no dates
I forget them all , yet memory is like   glue
With counting, with remembrance, with  lost mate

There’s  our sorrow and its seas to navigate
The waves rise up and drop, so old so new
I  wish there were no numbers and no dates

Why are modern  hearts so separate?
The seas of knowledge, all are one in  truth
With counting, with remembrance, with   no trace

Oh,universe, why do you have such space
With patterns in the stars, that might us soothe?
If there were no numbers and no dates

Why are we  self labelled as a race?
Slowly, surely we will  dig up truths
With anguish, with remembrance, oh, lost face

When will grace remake a soul so bruised
  Struggling with  the time scale, still bemused
I  wish there were no numbers and no dates
Nor counting, nor remembrance,  nor lost face