Category: poetry

In the desert grey

I walked across a desert grey and bleak
All alone, with nothing there to eat
I shuddered when I realised the truth
I was giving birth;I was refuse.

Cast out for some failing quite unknown
My baby was too small and I alone
A doctor with no face appeared and said
This baby died for he was never fed

He flung my baby  to the heap of dead
I lay in the dirt,  now red with blood
I  had to leave or I  would  die of grief
The will to live is stronger than a thief

I went to kiss my baby, then he smiled
He was still alive, my love,my child

Loss is like a real and bloody wound

Loss is like a  real wound in the heart
From knife, from dagger,sword or  scimitar
When your own beloved must depart

Or hearts may split in two, may crack or smart
Listening to dear Cohen with guitar
Loss was like a  real wound in his heart

I felt  my wound would widen, blood might  squirt
Cover me in red,oh,mad, bizarre
When  my own beloved chose “Depart”

Sometimes when I walked I used to lurch
Once into the road ,between two cars
Loss is like a  real wound in the heart

I wandered through the graveyard, ancient church
Castigate me not ,peculiar
Like a bird  his soul sought for its perch

As far as  Mirth, as far as the North Star
Noone   knows the vastness nor would dare
Loss is like a  cut,a wound, oh heart
When your own beloved must depart

 

 

 

A  song  that has no words nor any tune

Your absence from our home is a  still  a wound 
A  bruise upon my heart, a  knock, a blow
 A  song  that has no words nor any tune
That hovers in my ear,is loth to go

Yet I am glad I helped you to let go
I would not wish that you were here alone
But when the lake of tears still overflows
I wish that I could reach you on my phone

I am not lonely,I am missing you
Your tenor voice, your loving touch and words
The distance when you from the world withdrew.
Seems to me,   few  voices I have heard.

Yet I accept all living creatures die
But why are widows not allowed to cry?

The first step

Attracted by the window and the light
I walked towards it, those were my  first steps
The memory of an act  creates insight

Oh,mother I can leave you,I can fight
Now I move and noone can me stop
Desirous of the window and the light

Implicit in the action is the flight
Growing is not smooth, it is abrupt
The memory of an act  creates insight

Yet somewhere other, there is greater might
That one day caused me angst, that made me trip
Humbled by the window and the light

After every day, there comes a night
Abjection is the cup that each must sip
The repeating of an act  creates insight

Children are  not injured when they slip
When they rise, they quickly can forget
Attracted by the window and the sight
We all must stand and walk but  in curved lines

 

 

We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls

We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn

As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?

In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land

The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?

The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease

We let the remnants out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear

It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
As we self defend with careful lies

There we kissed, uniting Real and Dream

The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream
The sea was lapping gently  on our feet
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

Facing North ,we saw the sun’s June beams
Then it crossed the sky, its death to meet
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream

The yellow gorse   is scented, spikes are green
Brilliant flowers in gardens,ordered,neat
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

In  this place our souls soon feel redeemed
With  herbs, with flowers, with perfume pungent, sweet
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream

If there were a heaven, it would be near
The images, the sea, the sky,oh, sweet
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

We see the surface, not what’s underneath
We feel the breeze, the spirit’s  holy breath
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream
There we kissed, uniting Real and Dream

 

The rippling waves stretch out  like children’s hands

You are smiling on the pier above the sands
The rippling waves stretch out  like children’s hands
You look so strong I cannot comprehend
Your fatal illness and its grievous end
You were not a patient on dry land
You were living well  and ” feeling grand”
We crossed the road ; I  held   your cold thin hand
I suffered so much torment,would  I mend?
I saw a  fluid shape as dark it pranced
Through the open door  it swiftly danced
Slipped in with the wiles  of  Tudor kings
Hoping   they can  make it on the wing
I learned with grief , it came to take you  back
Across the river wide ,my love, my lack

I’m not frightened of you anymore

I’ m not frightened of you anymore
I’ll tell you that I hope I did  my best
God, you made the world that we destroy

You want us to  make meaning, learn the laws
Life  for many is  a fearsome task
Yet I’ m not frightened of you anymore

Why  has Beirut  suffered, what’s death for?
The people wander, by  great wounds   undressed
God, you made the world,who can restore?

Thousands injured ,millions more distraught
Will we give them aid and make it fast?
I’ m not frightened of God anymore

As we age, our hearts and souls must mourn
Living as the present hurries past
God, you made the world,will  tears restore?

In the  startling Universe so  vast
The Play  is here and we must be the Cast
I’ m not frightened of you anymore
God, you made a world so full of tears

 

 

 

 

I’ll follow where love leads

I heard the thud our cat made on the stair
But when I looked there was no creature there
Can our longing make us hear strange sounds;
Delusions,wish-fulfilment, breaking bounds?

I heard the wrens sing by the kitchen door
At least there is no cat to  make them fewer
I want to make some tea but I feel stuck
I’ll fill the pan, while love my heart strings plucks

For aeons I feel I’m paralysed by grief
The caterpillars gnaw upon  green leaves
I judge myself incompetent,too  slow.
Yet would I judge another, wound with blows?

I  feel half-way between the real, the dream
In reverie I’ll follow where love leads

Love and blindness

Love and structure made  our life secure
Although outside our tent, the gales still blew
Now alone,I fear I can’t endure
Your loving presence made my life secure
Now I stand on air ,supportless,poor
Love and structure made  our life secure
Now I am afraid and pale my hue
Love and  blindness made us feel secure
I forgot ,outside the tent,  wild gales still  blew

Love flowed

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

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

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

No Summer Dresses

Button Detailed Midi Cardigan Image 1 of 4

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.

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?

 

 

 

 

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