Category: poetry

Happiness was like a golden shawl

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

The astral body

Tenderly I held him  took him in
As though we touched each other skin to skin
Dying is what everyone must do
Even when it splits the Me from You

What we took for granted  every day
Had its end like any mortal’s play
The length of life is just enough to lie
It’s not here forever, don’t you cry

We are on no plateau   but a slope
Slight at first, so we don’t  see and note
Gently we are led to where it ends
Beautiful and foolish  like ourselves

How can we be split when we are one?
In deep darkness dies the winter sun

Like babies

Sunday dinner. roasted  spuds and meat
Yorkshire puddings, gravy,pepper,salt
These are what the English like to eat
Though microwaves  may bring it to  a halt

Roly poly,syrup sponge and cream
Apple dumplings,marmalade on toast
Men adore hot puddings gently steamed
Though who will  have the time to be a host?

Now we buy sponge puddings ready made
Bread and butter custard ,raisins,hot
How did  women manage in past days?
Spotted Dick, brown sugar,that’s the lot

We seem to love the sweet yet we are rude
Still like babies, ignorant  and confused

The labour and the  hurt that life will cure

I found a pair of knickers on the chair
They must be mine,oh dear, that is bizarre
I did not take them off,I am quite sure
They make the entire room seem quite impure

Yet why are knickers   thought to  be like porn
When they adorn the  place where life is born?
If you  hung the washing out to dry
You might see an angel in the sky

Most of us traversed the  holy path
We suffered pain but hope it did not last
Mothers too have struggled and endured
The labour and the  hurt that life will cure

The simplest items, pretty, well designed
Tomorrow I shall hang them on the line

Fortunately, he cannot bite

I dream  at nights of my old friends
My husband and his loving hands
I dream of all the cats we  had
Alfred who slept on  the bed
He laid his head upon my foot
As I wrote  a poem of love
Jimmy who was small and black
She  bit my hand if I got up
I did not wish to wet the bed
She did  not understand  a word I said
The last night  here she gazed at me
I think she knew  she would  not be
Lucky was the nervous  one
Black and white , apartheid none
He liked my husband’s shoulder dear
He draped  himself  and lost all fear
Now the cats have all gone off
I am frightened by a cough
My husband comes to me at night
Fortunately he cannot bite
He  touches me with tenderness
Smiles and wished me,God Bless.
When I waken I feel lost
So I have to wear a watch
I seem to have no solid self
I feel nervous of an elf
I don’t mind an angel sweet
He could rub my aching feet
I will have no other man
They  are frightened of women
They don’t like to lose at Chess
They don’t like  to wash my dress
They will brush my winter coat
Never ask me what I wrote
I do not wish to anger men
They might shout  and bawl again
I think maybe I will turn gay
Ask a lady, what to say?
They may not understand my needs
Killing flowers to  help the weeds
Talking all the weary night
On the whole they’re parasites
Also they may menstruate
I can’t  give them seeds  to  take
So they will leave and  get a man
This is where it all began
Eve and Adam,God and man
Cain and Abel, apple flan
Noah and his Ark so fine
I wish I had one in the rain
I wonder when the world will end?
I am old so be my friend

Awesome  now means  medium at best

Rubbish is  just something we don’t need
Or something  not worth mending   we believe
Where nonsense may be foolish talk or jest
Or English humour at its lethal best

There is no Judge, it’s people who decide
Whether it is nonsense to deride
The  message of the media  online
Which like the Consecration, is divine

Awesome  now means  medium at best
That is, you have barely passed the test
What a lot of stupid people say
Appears on someone’s T shirt the same day

Nonsense can give pleasure,make us loose
Sometimes it can make us feel confused.

What is nonsense in the modern age?

To write nonsense one   must think it first
Then translate thought into a  little verse
But what is nonsense in the modern age?
The more I hear, the more I feel enraged.

Yet Lewis Carrol made a lot of notes
Jabberwocky is a  poem he wrote
Where  time was always brillig  in his day
And mimsy was the passion for the stray

And Alice went behind a looking glass
She got trapped and missed the IT class
When she saw the minus and the plus
She said, Oh, my,I thought it  merely glass

Mirrors are a vital  need  we  have
Especially when we lead a  dog to bath
Lacan and Winnicott each  state
The mother’s face will mirror  and emote

So if  your mood swings  are too much
It never helps to go inside a church
Try  a  little dose of opprobrium
The shock is less  if you have  got a chum

I wonder why  the  head is so attacked
Electric shocks, brain surgery from quacks
When massage with essential oil of rose
Curies hysteria and warms the running nose?

I  hate the doctors and their ignorance
I really  ought to  learn to love a  dance
For it’s the entire body that needs aid
It is for this that many people prayed

What is nonsense but a better world
Where babies laugh and little girls have curls?

 

 

 

 

O wounded heart

O wounded heart,I cannot heal your pain
I shall bear it  as it still  remains
But why should I forgive  the one who broke
My tender  heart, my love and all I wrote/

The pride of men, the  anger soon provoked
The  cruel emails and  the  words he spoke
Why can’t we be kinder, more aware
Yet God himself was  killed,  who can compare?

The sadist drawn to those  who seem less strong
Will find  a dozen reasons  to do wrong
They  know their own pain not  the pain they cause
Some will kill  despising land and law

We  choose life despite these cruel  acts  
We ‘ll do well if we can live with tact

The more we hide

More defences make us feel more pain
As if by building walls we  make more real
The  fantasies  we’ve formed in our own brain

The murderers and the thieves all know our name
They  watch our door to enter and to steal
More defences make us feel more pain

We need a  lock or two but more won’t gain
The peace of mind, the peace we wish to feel
Not  fantasies  we’ve formed in our own brain

Ten locks on a front door might break the frame
Send the message we’re well heeled
More defences make us feel more pain

The more we fear, the more  fear we obtain,
The world is our perception ,it seems real
Not  fantasies  we’ve formed in our own brain

The less we try, the less we learn  to feel
The more we hide  more  poignant is our shield
More defences make us feel more pain
Those little  fantasies  we’ve grown in our own brains

 

 

What nonsense

Writing nonsense is extremely hard
Writing rubbish verses can annoy
Nonsense has some style, some meaning too
Gyre and gimble till the spies  find you

Read aloud it makes me laugh and cry
Borogroves are woods where mancipes die
Wabe is like  the sea, its rappling  gorm
Please put  your wrong name upon  a form

Why not  stroke A Rest for Oxford now
Lie down in a stunt without a cow
The rivers   bring  down water from  the  hills
Why God put the springs there, we can’t tell

Read a little Alice for your heart
Through the mirror is the wiser part

We see what we expect

We are not false and neither are we true.
We’re not propositions,I’m not you
We have our different selves which are displayed
In our manner  and in what we say

To the teacher we may be polite
To a shy young man we show our heart
With the priest we feel  the breath of God
Dying on his Cross misunderstood

We see what we expect not what is here
Eyes are muddled by our wish  and fear
We need each other so that we can share
Perceptions and emotions we can’t bear

Getting new ideas we can grow
Don’t think we just know it  all,t’ain’t so

I don’t like  the odour of your shoes

I am good and you are evil now
I decide and you must  just agree
I am  your superior and how!

I must be the bull and you are cows
You are blind but I can truly see
I am good and you are evil now

By  good fortune, I am well endowed
I make better cakes and better tea
I am  your superior and how!

I don’t like  the odour of your  shoes
All  I meet will  certainly agree
I  shine  bright and you are duller now

I know  that  God himself was born  anew
I will  learn his language  for a fee
I feel so superior in the  pew

I am the python  in the apple tree
The adder shedding skin, the perjury
I am good  but boring too I know
Where are the shades,  the LSD,the glow?

Is politeness false

Do we have a  more real self inside,
Fully grown and  smart  without  cruel wiles?
Is politeness false and not just kind?

Unlike kittens we are not born blind
Yet  we speak in only screams and smiles
Do we have a more real self inside?

If the Chapel’s Lord with me abide
Turns to gossip with the usual trials
Cruelty and  abjection are on file

Does the real self speak  and is it rude?
I don’t  like  hearing people  being vile
Do we have a hidden self inside?

We have our dispositions , it is true
But we  grow what’s  a self from mother’s  guile
Is politeness false  or  is it kind?

Can we adapt but not so much  we fail?
Be  a true friend, not feel we’re on trial?
 We don’t have a more real self inside
Courtesy’s the oil that soothes and guides

 

Inward

My eyes look inward as I concentrate
I’ve lost my glasses,camera and my mate
When I forget to mourn,I lose  far more
When I weep again,they are restored

I am not present to the world of sense
Attention will be paid, it is intense
Gathering wordless cues  to guide my mind
As  by  flame,by  fire I am refined

What I seek I cannot tell in words
It would make no sense  to those who heard
I will know it when it comes to me
The  jade and turquoise wreckage of the  sea

When the time is right I’ll tell my tale
Until then I  hide,I wear a veil

The things you can practise

You cannot practise dying, though we want to do it well
We don’t want to appear foolish when we might  be in hell
We can practise smiling and opening the door
Unless like me you’re crippled and you’re feeling  very low
You can practise  music, you can practise Art 
You can practise hiding in the burrows of the heart
Then you get to go on stage and  do it all for real
Dying ain’t for  dummies but allow yourself to feel
You can practise for your wedding, your baptism and your fall
In the hall of mirrors where God lives off the wall
You can practise  speaking, you can do it many ways
Then you must stop practising,  and say the words today
In the little spaces  in between the sounds
Let yourself be  emptied, you are on the Holy Ground

Words

 

Words rise up like geese at dawn

When with pale sun new day is born

The words approach and dance in line

The choice of words is mine

Words spelled here by sense and sound

In clause and sentence weave around.

Which tempting words shall I now use

And which shall I refuse?

The fire lights up inside my heart

So now my writing hand can start

“This is the way I spend my day.

With words I sing and play!

Theatre

I didn’t want to leave you in the place where you had died
The doctors heard  me singing as I sat by your side
And the people with cut fingers and burns from   the chip oil
Wondered what was happening and came by for the ride

You do not get free music on  Emergency Ward Ten
Death is  just a shadow but we don’t know the end
People wander happil,y  holding broken nails
I  was so delirious that I saw  round the bend

They take away the catheters, the drug lines and the charts
They expect you to be normal in the grave that was a heart
So wander down to Costa’s and imagine how it feels
Drinking from a tea bag, the cup  broke , it’s that stark

The doctors who were frozen by a woman’s singing parts
Feel  themselves still  melting in the cavern of the dark
They hear the swish of   gossamer,  the  window opens smart
Well, go there if you want to, it’s just  a different park

We wander  in the shadows  of the here and of the there
Stumbling over  pavements,  taking photos of the Ark
Listening to the symbols, seeing  what’s so dear
Rattling all  the funny bones and  winding up the larks

I didn’t want to leave you  but they had got no empty bed
There’s no room for the living let alone the dead
The  body is dissolving and  it flows down  from the  heights
Goodbye, it’s all over now.Do turn off the lights

For a bit of theatre it’s cheaper than  the Royal
Find someone who’s dying  and take love to appeal
If it’s your own sweetheart you’ll have an empty bed
Buy a  real stone tablet and swallow all the  blood

 

Oh,sweeter than the love of man

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Fine photo by Mike Flemming 2020 copyright

Inside my mind I dream of pearls,
Caterpillars,snails’ swirling whorls.
I dream contented, all enwrapped;
With reverie and dream I’m lapped.
The inner seas will comfort me,
While gods open my eyes to see

Oh,sweeter than confectionery
Is my  Oxford diction’ry.
The words whirl round  then fall to shape
The sentences which my world make.
This furnishing is rich and strange
Yet magically self arranged.

Oh,sweeter than the love of man
Is reading works of poets long gone;
Feeling deeply their dark tides .
Upon which our boat may glide.
The sea infinite we float upon
Is the same warm sea the ancients swam..

Sweeter still is the spring air
And the blossom spreading fair.
We’ll drown our selves in grassy fields
To the gods of poetry yield.
We’ll rise again and spring up tall
To grow more rich until we fall.

Singing silence

I  love the  singing silence as I muse
Listening to the silence  brings delight
Deep within  the silence are the cues

Everything from classic to the blues
Make  my  better sentences take flight
I delight in silence as I muse

Slowness with its thoughtfulness imbues
Words with love and depth  and inward sight
Deep within  the silence are the cues

Not like crosswords cunning  little clues
The cues I find can make the mind ignite
I delight in silence as I muse

Not for me those spikey  high heeled shoes
I want shoes that run  till I take  flight
I delight in silence as I muse.

As we write  we  feel the inner fight
Our language weaves a web but not of spite
I delight in silence as I muse
Deep within  the silence I hear cues

 

 

Norfolk

The sun shines but the sky ahead looks dark
I sit on someone”s wall to take a rest
The winter has come late, the  heat is sparse

Down the road, comes  wind,  the antic force
Who knows what the weather will do next?
The sun shines but the sky ahead looks dark

I remember well the  scent of  lemon gorse
Beyond  the stripey cliffs, we walked the beach
That was Easter, warmth began to course

I can feel the tears drop unrehearsed
No sea will wash my lover to my feet
The sun shines as the sky ahead falls dark

Below  the ground  the  tiny seeds will burst
The holiness of crocuses will greet
Winter  is no  match for Nature’s force

Come, my lover, pull me to my feet
Norfolk landscapes  offer, we receive
The sun shines, yet the sky ahead looks dark
The winter has come late but is no shark

 

 

 

In a tilted glass

The kaleidescope is  shaken,something moves
Like the height of water in a tilted glass
The beast approaches shuffling off its groove

By poetry we cannot ever prove
We hope for Evocation  like the Mass
The kaleidescope is  shaken,something moves

We forget how culture used to soothe
 The  days of Lent  and then the Friday Fast
The beast approaches shuffling past its groove

Here is Christ, Messiah,King of Jews
Here arrive the endangered and the mad
Are we shaken, are we even moved?

God or Satan, who do you think we choose?
Two heads on one coin, we have  been  had?
The beast approaches shuffling  through the Louvre

The language is too violent,Precious Blood
Better play it softer  or we flood
The kaleidescope is  shaken, let’s be brave
The beast approaches shuffling from its cave

 

 

 

 

My cat Ben

The first cat,Ben, was tabby, with great eyes
On Sundays we took him riding in  our  car
I used to wrap him in  a woollen scart
For he was very small and very blyth

Ben grew  up so he went out all night
Hunting round the flats for  mice  or hens
Cat suck eggs and don’t care who or when
They run and hunt until the sun arrives

No doubt they  find a mate to  play with, as one might
Father kittens, scatter their seed wide
Ben followed me into the road at five
A rushing car hit my dear cat, Ben died

Soon  my husband’s father went as well
We could not cry, for dried up was the well

Reason by its nature is not Art

Reason by its nature has no heart
No soul,no body,faceless  but for eyes
Feelings are made outlaws. love departs

The schizoid self, the broken appetite
The failure to acknowledge our own lies
Reason by its nature has no heart

Where did we  go wrong, where did we part
From  compassion to the lowly, to  mad heights
Feelings are made outlaws. have no charts

Graphs and figures,lessons maladroit
The Nazis numbered Jews, turned off the lights
Reason by its nature has no heart

Who would do great evil and  make charts
Coded homes,  surveillance is our plight
Feelings are like outlaws.  they depart

Logicians made machines without insight
Do  robots  voices bring us sweet delight?
Reason by its nature has no heart
Feelings  gassed  like insects, love  departs

 

The storm

The rain  has hit on my windows   with great force
Like the horns of bulls  toss bloody matadors
The Spanish rites acquaint us with  our lacks
For in the end we by a horse are dragged

The bull is strong with open fearsome eyes
But in the end it  is the bull that dies
Helplessly  he runs and he rotates
Strength and helplessness are not good mates

The matador takes risks to taunt the beast
From a snack  he  makes us a great feast
Better to   be eaten by a  man
Than make a meal for worms  when death has come

Men may claim they’re strong and great and  pure
In the end it’s  wits that have most power

Give us back the seats in public space

When in pain, the world is made of seats
Where one can gain a moment of relief
Ignored are flowers however fair and pure
When pain  grows strong,we cannot  gaze,revere

But since the homeless lie on  seats at night
The council have removed them from our sight
The bus stop , seats of plastic , hurt me sore
Till I am wracked   with pain  I once ignored

I need gardens with low walls of stone
Where I  may sit and softly, clearly moan
My coat is spoiled  and now I feel  my rage
I’m no longer on the human stage.

Yet bees die if they sting us in  defence
Little in the world makes any sense

Strength needs flexibility and give

\
When of the world of doctors,I am sick.
When diagnosis is not any aid
When from the choices given,
I cannot pick
Although I feel my deepest debts were paid.
Then off from thinking I must take my mind
To gaze upon the beauty of the woods
And feel the sun not fiery, even kind.
It warms and heartens even my cold blood.
The trees are calm for they have grown deep roots
Though storms may strike their trunks and branches too
Breaking off new tender green tipped shoots
They sway and take it without much to do.
Strength needs flexibility and give;
With no such, the brittle shall not live

Lucky is the conscript with his pun

Oh,false Britain when the sun was low
Could you not bomb Auschwitz, torture den?
Light blinds our eyes  yet soon the world would know
I rarely see bare branches birch trunks, glow.
Yet here they stand  like candles , who may come?
Oh,false Generals  like the sun  you’re low
My mind feels  high as codeine , my heart’s  cold
Here the hare runs ,awed  by dawning sun
Light helped men   to kill  Jews  for teeth gold
This summer is a fake with  its mixed modes
Lucky is the conscript with  their pun
Oh,false summer light breaks ,blackbirds run
See the leader, envy  not their  gun
With all his weapons he can’t   fire the sun
Oh,false summer, light dance, fire may roast
We   turn  black with rage, oh holy ghosts  

Come with me

Come with me,I know a secret path
From Windermere  Train Station to the lake
We’ll run down  through the trees and   the lush grass

Coloured boats are sailing,see them pass
And there is a ferry we might take
Come with me,I know the secret path

The wildflowers look eternal in their grace
Here we heal our hearts. compassion waits.
We’ll  go down  through the trees and the lush grass

On these waves I see the Sacred Face
We are not condemned by   God   or fate
Come with me,I know a secret place

In  our time, we find the narrow gate
Open,   if we marry love and  hate
The sunshine  makes my body feel embraced
Oh, Windermere, where birds sing sweet in praise

 

 

 

The truth  is hinted at by many lies

I  might have seen there are  a  dozen ways
Perceptible when  near the edge we lie
We take some steps but we don’t have to  stay

What if we don’t have the words to say
We have to go  or  hearts will surely die
I wish I’d  seen there is  another way

Of our life, how many are the days
Few or less with a loved girl or guy
We take some steps but we don’t have to  stay

The  highest form of art is the surprise
The truth  is hinted at by many lies
Could I  have seen there is  another way?

I was  startled when I heard  love’s prayers
The ones who speak don’t need to advertise
We take some steps but we don’t have to  stay

I  might have seen there are  a  dozen ways
Perceptible when  near the edge we lie
We take some steps but we don’t have to  stay

Every moment  now  a baby dies
We  gawp in windows  with our yellow eyes
We  might have seen there are   more caring ways
The anguished  start but why  will noone stay?

 

 

 

 

Won’t power

Willpower is a tool, but what’s its end?
Hitler willed to make a perfect state
The Jew, the gypsy and the gays he bound

Thinking must be based on solid grounds
If that is missing,madness is  our fate
Logic is a tool, but what’s its end?

We may will an evil that resounds
With efficient railways  never late
The Jews, the gypsies and the gays were burned

Oh,crazed efficiency,oh  Hitler’s gangs
Force of will was harnessed to distaste
Willpower’s just a tool, have we not learned?

God  wrote to the people with his Word
Stammering now, reluctant   he dictates
The  postman comes, the letter must be shared

Pride and arrogance  will  soon ignite
High IQ  is useless against  hate
Willpower is a tool, but what’s its end?
When wrongly used,the evil will ascend