Category: poetry

And words come in a rush.

My old blue fountain pen allows
The ink across this page to flow
Like wet paint from an artist’s brush,
And words come in a rush.

             Enchanting   through the hand that writes .
Bewitched by art,beauty alights.
The script is like a music score
     Through which we step as through a door,
Imagination’s home.
As,mysteriously, to you, to me,
The spirits of our hearts are tamed ,
By rhythms of pen,of brush, of mind,
They enter vision quite unplanned,
Like moths to flutter softly round

Fire joined hand and heart.

The pen slows down,the hand grows still,
And just as dreams at daybreak will
They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone,
I nearly caught that one!

I thought  I’d write the end before I start

I thought  I’d write the end before I start
The intimations come from my own heart
And also from the words   of loving friends
Who help me on my journey to the end

Our minds grow  from the words of loving friends
Or from their letters if we are apart
They travel with us till we reach the end

Friendships can go wrong, let’s make amends
A word, a look, they  let the process start
Our minds grow  from the words of loving friends

I feel it is  danger to pretend
For then we are at risk of breaking hearts
They cannot travel with us to the end

At  times fine grace and joy  may each descend
Never try to make a map or chart
Our minds grow  from the words of loving friends

Do not end your life with loud lament
Every cell is of  the whole a part
We are one despite the  great torment

 

 

In the road, we played our ancient games

The summer heat made cobblestones like stoves
The Coronation happened, I know now
We played with melted tar, industrial bairns.

My mother’s hands were black and much beloved
The coal and coke had tattooed her, we sa
The summer heat made cobbles hot as stoves.

In the road, we played our ancient games
The older children passed the knowledge down
We played with melted tar, industrial wains.

The bully boys were cruel , did not heed love
A little boy had tried to be a clown
In summer heat, they beat him on the stones.

We were  quiet they flaunted power again;
But in our hearts, we knew we’d let him down
We threw warn melted tar, industrial wains

And in our fantasy, he was alone.
No-one knew who threw the vicious stone
The summer heat made cobbles feel like flames
We played with melted tar, Christ  died again

When my voice trembles  

 

When words no longer work

wonder

wish

want

When words won’t come

compensate

contrive

When my voice breaks

snaps

sunders

strains

When I want to talk

touch

tenderly

towards

But you are not able

about

abandoned

absent

You are no longer

listening

live

longing

When I need to find a meaning

In the shape

form

structure

But I ‘m stranded

Stuck

Sucked under

Swallowed

Then I reach out to you

I want your touch

tenderness

tranquillity

temerity

Sometimes words don’t seem enough

endless

empty

emotive

ejaculatory

Yet words can console

conjure

quilt

charm

captivate

cover.

Stretch out your hand

across the emptiness

and touch me with your fingers

friendship

faithfulness

forgiveness

frailty

fever

touch my heart with words

and I will hope

expect

await

be grateful

grave

garbed in joy

When words don’t feel enough

When all we want is touch

Or to see

sigh

sob

sing

Words can be shaped

changed

contorted

controlled

challenged

Words are all we have

To make us love

To make us live

To make us alive

To make us sing

To make us stand up

To console,words may be

Enough

Cat eats curry

I left a pan  of curry on the stove
Hot as  ash combined with burning coal
Yet when I  went back in  a cat stood  there
Eating this strong curry  with no care.

It must have had  thick skin inside its mouth
Before I looked ,it ran out of the house
To think it  gobbled up our supper  so
Leaving me  with nothing  but a glow

So then I made a chilli  beef and beans
My heart  ached as I listened to  puss scream
Can cats learn  that pans are out of bounds?
I’d hate to hear again its anguished sounds

Be  sure to close  the kitchen door  or else
You will suffer torment  from cats’ yells

The holiness of slow

The thinner branches wave  like fragile grass
Bewildered by the wind so strong and cold
Like prisoners suffering from a cruel lash

The cat walks by ,the  little hedgehogs pass
So in my winter coat I could be bold
The thinner branches wave  like fragile grass

If only winter travelled very fast
But time is needed for the seeds  to grow
As humble as a  snail on its own path

We humans  too need silence without rush
We must earn the holiness of slow
While thinner  trees  still wave  like fragile grass

In the soil, the worms  pursue their tasks
Eternities of beetles move below
Humble as the  snails on  their own path

Why we’re here  this day we cannot know
Our souls soak in the  silent world below
The thinner branches wave  like fragile grass
We’re not gods. we suffer  from the lash

 

 

My sweet fate


The roses by your gate
Revealed my sweet fate:
That I would love you in summertime,
That my poetry would always rhyme,
That a dream of petals falling from above
Would drench us both with sunshine’s golden love;
That we would fall into deep grassy meadows
Full of daisies,lie on our backs.Swallows
Darting across the sky would see
Our shapes intertwined with bright buttercups.
Who knows when love will erupt
And carry us on its flowing waters
To places unreachable in summer saunters?
Into the eye of love itself

Be silent  hearing  love’s new mysteries

Trying to solve old problems  bothers me
When I’m feeling weak or undermined
As if I could rewrite my history

The past is never dead, but leave it be
Or with  present troubles it combines
Trying to solve old problems  upsets me

In  the  trees  I find tranquility
As  they  give up so let our human minds
We cannot rewrite all our history

Restrain temptation  , drop hostility
Use the fire of anger to refine
The soul and heart and  problems none can see

The Holy One  remembers all we’ve been
Aids the poor as   to them we are blind
Be silent  hearing  love’s  new mysteries

Then having  no real truth  to   cleanse our mind
We  hope  and long for patient, thoughtful  times
Trying to solve old problems  wastes our lives
Time gives new perspectives, we   revive

Just had to play

While the priest annointed him with oils
I played in the gutter all alone
I hoped to find the marbles we had lost
Or from the melted tar to pluck a stone

The summer was so hot the cobbles baked
Looking like a row of fresh made loaves
There were no fishes in the millstreams rush
Nor a place where bread and Saviour rose

I found a florin in the cobbled street
I found two marbles lying near a grid
I found a daisy squashed in a wide crack
I saw a spider hanged in its own web

To summarise ,my father went away
The Queen was crowned and we just had to play

The  feeling is the space between the lines

The spaces in between the words make time
To and fro like waves on the  sea shore
The  feeling is the space between the lines
Why  is there  desire for  many rhymes?
The spaces in between the words mark time
The up and down like music well designed
The abyss may open  when we  can’t endure
The spaces in between the words    become malign
Our lives are  tossed up on a  darkening shore

Once we were two persons in one skin

Once we were two persons in one skin
I held you till your dying was quite done
I felt your loss  like panic deep within

I knew that death would conquer all and win
Now the  blackness took you, death had won
Once we were two persons in one skin

I saw its shadow cunningly get in
I had not known in what form it would come
I felt your loss  like panic from within

They took you to a clinic with a gym
Ignored the signs your dying  had begun
Once we were two persons in one home

I saw the  deadly blackness of your skin
Oxygen and sugar almost gone
I felt your loss  like panic from within

There was no doctor,drip nor  oxygen
You fell onto my  bosom,  all alone
Once we were two persons in one skin

The nurse asked me to help  you to lie down
Then to put some sugar on your tongue
I felt your loss  like panic from within

The paramedics ran in  like mad clowns
You were dead or dying, was I wrong?
Once we were two persons in one skin

They brought you back to life, to die again
They took you  off to A and E , how long?
I felt your loss  like panic from within

Then they phoned, he will not make it home
I sat by him and helped him with my songs
Once we were two persons in one skin

Then catheters and drips,   allover care
He  smiled at me and then he soon was gone
I felt  his loss  like panic deep within

Across the mighty river, pay his fines
I  felt  alone for I was left  behind
Once we were two persons in one skin

All I do is write my little rhymes
To get me  off the river bank alive
I feel  his loss  like  terror deep within

 

In the mud  my mind and body writhe
Can’t I  follow  him  by a deep dive?
Yet I am no master of my soul
The shape of death can’t  make me give control
I stand aloof and will not give  my life
Even though I was a  loving wife
Yet I cannot climb the cliff like edge
The river taunts me as I find a ledge
Why can no-one help me to climb back
From the mud and   from the  hellish rack?
They say I must not weep, it makes them sad
Now my grief  has got me labelled “bad”
Once we were two persons in one skin
I feel his loss ,a  torture deep within

 

 

 

 

The photograph again

Looking at your photograph again
How did I get here when we were there?
You look relaxed  and  happy  in that frame

I was on the pier  with camera aimed
Dressed in my  old  frock   to   sunlight bared
I’m looking at your photograph again

We crossed a common, flowers hid by the lane
We lay on white cliff top in sun drowned air
You look relaxed  and  happy  in that frame

How did I get here, I  feel I’m maimed?
Each moment is the whole when love ‘s at play
I’m looking at your photograph again

I just keep walking,bearing truth   and pain
If I stop I’ll drown in watery drains
You look relaxed  and  happy  in that frame

I know I will meet Jesus  when it’s time
Even though I don’t believe those claims
Looking at your photograph again
You look relaxed  and  happy, that is fame!

 

 

Would you be perfect ,agonised unspared?

Would you  be the Chosen of  the Lord
With eyes that see, with ears that hear  the Word
Burdened by  the Tablets ,in great Awe

Would you   ache to feel the Roman sword
To wear a crown of thorns on your head bared
Would you be the Chosen of  the Lord?

Would you like to hear Kind David’s chord
To write the Psalms  which  only grief can bear
To  hear God’s wish  from  Burning Bushes awed?

Would you  persevere   when hunted, scared
No praise for  good,  and tortured, unprepared
Would you be the Chosen of  the Lord?

Would you be perfect ,agonised  unspared
When God has hidden  in a  fox’s lair
Yet may whisper to  the ones with ears?

Would you like to  cleanse the world with tears
To  walk  condemned to death    and no-one cared
Would you be the chosen of  the Lord
To sense his message,  bless us with its awe?

 

 

 

How can it be morning without you?

How can it be morning without you
There is  a hollow  place inside the house 
Vacated  and now filled with nothing new
For who can take the place of a loved spouse?

How can a day begin without your smile
Without your scent like honey from the hills?
What toy or person can a wife beguile:
Would alcohol or  bottles of strange pills?

I feel the pain  in my arthritic joints
I did not know folk lived  like this for years
Who can now my aching  back annoint
Or wipe away the hanging sheet of tears

How can it be  the world  is short of you?
You cannot be replaced by someone new

I’ll take the risk

Would you like a  tapered bob, she asked?
To me, it sounds like  summat fe’ the  dog.
She carried on, she  worked hard like a wasp

I don’t know how  to style what  nature’s left
My hair is slightly thicker than a frog’s
I remember  grandad  had ten bob

Grandad was a miner, what a task!
He had a bath outside, hung on a hook
He  lit the big coal fire  where faces danced

His daughters had long hair caught up in clasps
To spend this money on my hair seems wrong
I remember grandad  with ten bob

We all had outside toilets, freezing risked
When I went , I burst into  loud song.
He  kept a big coal fire .  the  flames  would kiss.

At Xmas he had wine  unfit for cooks
Now all the family’s gone;  they wrote no books
Would you like a  tapered bob, she asked?
In  all their memories, I shall  take the risk

 

 

I sense a piece of Putin in the air

I sense a feel of panic in the air
As if the Ark is not quite waterproof
I wonder if we’d welcome Tony Blair

To the poor this life was rarely fair
But now it seems unreal, is it a spoof?
I sense a piece of Putin in the air

I am looking in the mirror at my hair
It looks like Boris Johnson’s  but more louche
I wonder if we’d  dye  old Tony Blair’s

The Russian wolf is licking his rich fur
He’s happy Britain’s weakened with fake truth
I feel  a sense of  monsters  near, oh dear.

Putin won his Trump  with  that strange hair
Now it’s cyber warfare on the hoof
Will  he soon take Leave  from Tony Blair?

The Russians in Crimea  are still  there
 The Ukraine weeps  because we did not care
I sense a feel of Russia in the air
I wonder if   they’ll  fragment us  and tear.

 

 

When I heard the voice I loved its tone

My thryoid gland has given me real hell
I  obsessed about the gas pipes and the drains
Noone realised I was unwell

The gland had overworked for a long spell
Then  burned out by this speed it was my bane
My thryoid gland has given me real hell

I lay upon my bed,my nerves were shrill
I could not walk, my weakness seemed quite plain
Yet noone realised I was unwell

A kindly voice said,Katherine make your Will
You  will die, you will not  long remain
My thryoid gland has given me real hell

Who was speaking to me, was I  ill?
The voice seemed kind, but it was not my own
Noone realised I was unwell

I saw a doctor, coma  soon would kill
He gave me thyroxine, my life   has grown
That thryoid gland  reversed,no more was hell

When I heard the voice I loved its tone
Some  angel  guided me  to earth again
My thryoid gland has given me real hell
Now I go out daily, stuff  that hell

 

 

Yet I remember  Teesdale and High Force

When I was young he liked to brush my hair
He bought a special brush from somewhere posh
Down my back  my hair flowed  gold and fair
The best of all my features, long and lush Continue reading “Yet I remember  Teesdale and High Force” →

Just a mo, I’ll put the oven on

I don’t want to walk to the front room
Can I have my dinner on a tray?
I wept inside for he could hardly eat
So thin I thought his backbone might well break
I’ll get you a small table, honeybun
Just a mo, I’ll put the oven on
I want a steak ,he called another day
If he could eat it I would be God’s prey
I can’t  chew it, pet, my stomach’s full
The fluid from the blood, I knew it well
The valve is furred, his blood is being pushed back
Fills his inner organs  swells and racks
I was almost paralysed and stunned
Putting him to bed  was  quite a  pun
Then he woke up from a little sleep
Spoke to me  in words so clear and sweet
You have a personality so bright,
The sun must envy you  your brilliant light
After that he scarcely used his words
We did not need to speak, it was absurd

 

Far away   but not in reverie

Wrapped up in my  thoughts I did not see
The sunlight on the  leaves,the russet tree.
I did not see the berries and the birds
Are they quiet, or is it  I’ve not heard?
Far away yet not in reverie
No  guide nor light  appeared nor called to me
I smelled the  damp green  leaves I could not see
Entangled in the knots of wacky words
I lost my mind in wondering  what you meant
In all those notes you never thought nor  penned
The angst,the tortured ego  off its  throne
The knife that cuts, the  breaking of the bones

Will  the islands of  our minds unite or rip?

Where do words go when they enter me?
From your angry mouth  you let them rip
They fragment,  break to glass, and poetry

Take my words or miss, you cannot see
The struggling rise, the unfelt dangerous slip
Where do those  remote words  enter me?

The pointed shards of glass cut memory 
The bleeding feeds  the vampires   of your lips
They  violate, they slice the poetry

Our   leader  hopes to mock democracy
Calls for riots  or death but not his whips
What dark words  have slid in ,  raping me?

Now  the old   don’t recall  dignity
The writers toast them with a stinging quip
They   utilise, they mince  my poetry

As the toxic liquids we will sip
Will  the islands of  our minds unite or rip?
Where do words go from my ears to me?
They fragment , needle , hurt to  poetry

Doctor,how can I keep quiet?

From 2016

 

Doctor I’ve got logghoreah

I feel worn out but I’m  still here.

Can you give me a blue pill,

As those bright green ones made me ill.

Oh,dear lady,I can teach you

If the subject’s not taboo.

If you keep your lips quite still

You ‘ll feel much better,I can tell.

Doctor,how can I  keep quiet?

Do you offer a word diet?

Which sentences are too contrived;

Can you keep my brain alive?

Never use an old cliche;

From the ancient,go astray.

Keep you thoughts inside your head.

If  you can’t,then go to bed.

Doctor I am not Herr Freud

Yet I see  my well trod road.

I  seem to always want  some man.

And in my bed I can fit one.

Yes I see you often mention

How your body needs attention.

You need love and so do I

But it’s  wicked if we try.

Talking ‘s a defence   of sorts

Used by folk  to control thoughts.

Intellectual word  excess

Is your device for happiness.

Yet it does not help your body

To keep on giving testimony.

So throw away your head,my dear

Love a man and lose that fear.

I don’t know that many men;

Maybe  I   count nine or ten.

Yet I fear they may use me

Merely as the maid at tea.

They may want  me to boil their hankies

When what I need is hanky panky.

How can I convert old boys

To make my  kleenex   their first choice?

We don’t learn that when we’re training;

Nor cure depression when it’s raining.

We will have to run a trial.

Drink the oil from this small vial.

What will this oil do to me??

I really need a cup of tea.

Will it increase my libido?

I shall not take it if that’s so.

Why don’t you trust me,my dear lady.

Do you think I’m  somewhat shady?

Well,you’re right,we men are lonely

And we look for ladies homely.

Surely you’ve got one  somewhere else.

Doctor’s need them for their health.

Yes, but I prefer your form.

How do you like my nice green lawn?

I prefer a sandy desert.

Lawns are so so last resort

Still we’re here so let’s commence.

I have  only got  five pence.

We have love so do not worry

Do not be in such a hurry

Catholics can’t have concubines

Yet God made them by design.

We must have missed some useful clue

Bow down  in worship of my shoe.

When we can afford a pair.

Then I’ll marry not just stare!

 

Feel with  the whole body, feel entire

Without the narrow focus of desire
We see a new born world of coloured hue
Our eyes feel  the sensation, gentle touch
Then breathing is much slower in this view

With this text to read why waste our time?
Achievement is not judged nor measured   here
Feel with  the whole body, feel entire
Crumble  not if struck by panic fear

Expansion of our self ,  the muscles ease
Our body softens as we gaze again
Unable to believe all  we  have missed
The inner soul   is rinsed by hiss of rain

Effort and self torment do no good
Succumb  for we are  in the hands of G-d

What is gazing for?

To gaze is   but to love without desire
To be as  satisfied as  with a  meal
To burn  in joy in the eternal fire
To  take, receive and hold  what we can’t steal

To gaze is  but to lose our  central place
To feel a part of  Life in all its forms
The entire world ablaze and full of grace
Able to withstand the  mighty storm

To gaze is but to  be alive and here
To see the new creation every  hour
When childhood’s glory’s  are no longer near
And we no longer wish for total power.

 We gaze and we are touched  inside  our hearts
We  breath  more slowly, feel  our love restart

I wanted  nothing, all was in its place

Gazing at the trees touched me with grace
My eyes receptive ,mind so still and pure
I wanted  nothing more, no list, no place

Would I dare enjoy a human face
To see the lines of suffering long endured?
Gazing at the your eyes touched me with grace

All the anxious details steal our space.
 We cannot gaze afflicted and allured.
 I wanted  nothing more, no wish, no place

If we  lose ourselves, become engrossed
We gaze with joy ,with colour we’re imbued
Gazing at the trees ,oh green their grace

The  dignity of  art is unimposed
Majestic in its heart, we take our cue
Then want no more, our wish dissolves, exposed

Lying on the earth so warm. so new
I  fertilised, delight in  being you.
Gazing at the trees my heart was graced
I wanted  nothing, all was in its place

As the entire globe is burning bright

Our politics is changing like wild weather
The rain so heavy soaked  my   flecked tweed coat
Then the sun came back  as gay as ever

I wish I were down deep in Ilkley’s   heather
 Near the  haunted moors of Wuthering Heights
Our politics is violent like the weather

A criminal now leads as people gather
In impressive thunder  and strange light
When the sun comes back we’ll get some offers

A little child shall lead us  despite scoffers
Now the Amazon is burning bright
Our politics is violent like the weather

We have our own home grown dictator
He betrayed   us like the  immigrants in flight
The English Channel is such tempting water

We need some braver people   to ignite
Debates about what’s wrong and how to right
Bad  politics is crueller  than bad weather
Will the sun came back ? In hell, I gather

 

 

Wondering how to find a better way

An empty day now full as love and peace
Though sun has changed to rain and skies are grey
A testament to mercy and release.

Yet everywhere the people fight like beasts
The newspapers are filled with lies each day
For me this time  is full  of love and peace

On slander and on libel humans feast
A silent few will hide to praise and pray
Their testament to mercy and release.

The wise will bite their lips and say the least
Until they learn what customs are today
For me this time  is full  of love and peace

Like the lion and tiger we have teeth
Even lovers bite  in childish play
They  too  are  a symbol  of release.

From the mountains,  prophets liked to  gaze
Wondering how to find a better way
Their days not full  of love nor even peace
They  need time to pray for our relief

 

 

 

The sea sings wild

 

 

acer-palmatum-shindeshojoT

The red leaves in the sunshine seem to smile
A pale blue sky, a silver aeroplane
I’m happy,I am warm, in your arms coiled

I  have no heater but the kettle  boiled
I made us coffee   then my  parcel  came
My face in the small mirror  had a smile

My love is deep, you never were on trial
If we quarrel, we both share the blame
I’m happy,I am warm, in your arms coiled

Our sorrow is, we have not made a child
Jesus cursed the fig tree in its shame
Yet red leaves in the sunshine seem to smile

Sorrow need not  madden nor make  bold
We do not know the purpose  nor the game
I’m happy,I am warm now as I toil

We need old fashioned virtues like restraint
We don’t see the whole  as life we paint
The red leaves in the sunshine seem to smile
I’m happy,I am warm, the sea sings  wild

Words haphazard, words made to amuse

Sentences unspoken crowd my mind
Words that we invented for our use
Waiting for his tongue to meld with mine

A language no-one else would  have designed
Words haphazard, words made to amuse
Sentences unspoken crowd my mind

A tongue,a lingo,  language,  is this time?
Send me  out a message with your views
Hearing not his tongue, my ears  will pine

We were quiet  people in our home
We did not waste our time,we loved and bloomed
Sentences half formed still  come to mind

I sang in the  back kitchen  with delight
Our black cat in the doorway  purred in tune
 His pointed tongue will  greet me if I’m blind

Normal service  never is resumed
God is not  quite here , as man assumed
Sentences unspoken crowd my mind
When I  sat alone,I wordless cried.