The heron seems to smile upon its prey
Why did God make this bird be that way?
Could it live on grass and bits of moss?
I guess it is the protein it would miss.
We do much worse things than do the birds
We damage other people by our words.
We also steal more money from the poor
Even when the hangman’s at the door.
No,I don’t feel guilty being rich
It seems that I use money as a crutch
I’ll give my winter coats to Charity
I’ll dress by drying leaves fresh off a tree
I’ll get a little couch inside the shed
And hear the beetles laughing in my bed
I guess a beetle will not know my name
Just like men, oh, dear, are they the same?
Category: poetry
In my dream, I gave birth to a child
In my dream, I gave birth to a child
The doctor said that he would die quite soon
My feelings overwhelming made me wild
The Nazi doctor threw him on a pile
I lay there unmoving as I keened
In my dream,I gave birth to a child
A week passed by,I knew that death beguiled
Frozen lips made no sound, song or tune
My feelings overwhelming made me wild
I had to rise and say my black goodbye.
My baby with the others;horror loomed
In my dream I gave birth to a child
I picked him up , when suddenly he smiled
I held him to my breast, my songs I crooned
My feelings overwhelming drove me wild
I had to carry him, the landscape gloom
A desert grey aand rocky like some moon
In my dream I gave birth to a child
In terror I had walked yet love consoled
So shadows, shades. penumbra lie unfound
Intent with purpose, we don’t see life whole
We see the figure but ignore its ground
We have one thought, to reach our chosen goal
This way of life destroys our life and soul
So shadows, shades. penumbra lie unfound
Intent with purpose, we don’t see life whole.
Outside our mind, our thoughts like brothers brawl
Leading to conclusions quite unsound
We only wish to reach our chosen goal
Yet beauty, love and wisdom come to call
We ignore the universe unbound
Intent with purpose, we don’t see life whole.
Moreover, sudden danger may befall.
We need to see both broad and narrowed down
We wish for nothing but our chosen goal
The hawk too sees both focussed and in whole
To be far too intense makes us a clown
Intent with purpose, we see not those who maul
We see not the bridegroom as we drown
In disconnected fragments lose our crowns
Intent with purpose, scarcely is life real
We have our thoughts; we’ll die rather than feel
No purpose, no desire
How can I judge you when I do not know
The river of your heart, it’s undertow
Forgetting the wide looking that we need
Too attentive to the goals of speed
I may compare you to another friend
And in comparison, our love might end
I may not take you in as one true whole
How little do we look, ensnared by goals?
When attention lapses and we dream
We may see our soul and its true themes
Too sharp a focus makes our mind compress
Our narrowed eyes untrue to second guess
With my whole body I perceive the true
No purpose , no desire, nothing but you.
The ladder
I fear to stand up tall on this new earth
One hand is on the ground, my back is bent
Shivering fear, excitement, what’s this birth?
I climbed , like Wittgenstein, a ladder’s worth
Then threw the ladder down as my assent
I fear to stand up tall on this new earth
Far away, so far, the time of mirth
For sometime a lover I was lent
Shivering fear, excitement, what’s this birth?
I wonder can I walk ,this step the first
Love may die and who shall then repent?
I fear to stand up tall on this new earth
I see myself in black, the window’s bust
A man climbs out uncut by accident
Shivering wonder, what allures such birth?
I see in my mind’s eye the incident
I learn to balance gravity with sense
I desire to stand on this new earth
Shivering, wonder, is it birth or curse?
What comfort could I bring to the Unknown?
I have spent a hundred nights alone
No face to greet me when my dreams depart
No comfort from the warmness of your arm
I hear your key but it’s a false alarm
A tear runs down my face and then more start
I have spent a thousand nights alone
A river with no bridge nor stepping stone
This water which keeps lovers late apart
No comfort from the warmness of an arm
I see you are now dust, where are your bones?
Where eyes to show me when you are contrite
I have spent ten thousand nights alone
In the night you prayed for all who groan
You smiled when I once spoke of future life
What comfort could I bring to the Unknown?
I shall find a way to carry on
I will find the secrets and the light
I accept a million nights alone
When we were joined , who knew when we would part?
I am left with fragments of a heart
I have spent so many nights alone
Give me comfort ,take me in your arms
When God came down, our spies soon had him nailed
We may know what’s right and still do wrong
Greed and envy run our inner world
Like a crazed drunk bee we like to sting
Even as the blackbird is in song
The darkness of the heart will on it fall
We may know what’s right and still do wrong
We love to think we are the Queen or King
Perfect in our power , oh iron the walls
Yet crazed drunk bees can float on high to sting
The hurt inside the heart can last too long
The self retreats , the matador has failed
We know the end , the bull will kill the throng
When God came down , our spies soon had him nailed
The burning bush , the little voice, the tales.
We may know what’s right and do the wrong
Take pleasure in our violence, kill and sting
This Titanic can no more deceive
The United Kingdom disintegrates by day
The Scots are breaking off at Hogmanay
Northern Ireland colonised,remote
Will Ireland be united at a stroke?
We will have a smaller house of cards
Boris Johnson’s patience brings rewards
He will be in charge just of Soho
Where ladies of the night rule men by blows
England’s not that big nor of pure blood
I’m half Scandinavian ,see my head
The violent people Brexit has empowered
At the bus stop they will on me glower
It’s time to get the lifeboats out and leave
This Titanic can no more deceive
Poems of anxiety and uncertainty

Photo by Mike Flemming copyright
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/collections/101584/poems-of-anxiety-and-uncertainty
Extract:
Poets are seekers and questioner They explore the unknown and help to give it shape. The insights and wisdom in the following poems below are hard-won; more often, it is simply the naming of the fear—personal, spiritual, or political—that offers solace, reminding us that people are connected by our worries and doubts as well as our joys. By resisting closure and easy answers and sounding out the darkness, these poems remind us that poetry has always been able to cope with uncertainties, ambiguities, and shades of gray.
Read the poems by clicking the link
What time is left, has Palestine grown roots?
Oh,Mandy’s here displaying her white boots
She sees disintegration,loss and new despair
Douglas-Hume starts wincing on my roof
My eyes were open, dignified, aloof
Edward Heath, man, give me my bus fare!
What time is right for docketing the truth?
I knew there were strange numbers on the route
Take pi and e and i and stop just there
Harold Wilson tried in Downing Street
John Major felt my brain , he was astute
We see straight through your eyes into you, bare.
When day was night, the Bennites spoke the truth
I bought the book, I ‘ll soon be destitute
Iraq has made much wealth for Tony Blair
The bombs fell on the children , ain’t they cute?
Graham Greene, the end of the affair
Netanyahu is leading but to where?
What time is left, has Palestine grown roots?
Asylum seekers die for lack of roofs.
The face shaped by refinement of the heart
The face shaped by refinement of the heart
The love and what we suffer as we grow.
Our features form a map, a place, a chart
The face dispiays the comeliness despite
The hatred overcome, accepted, taut
The wind blows on our inner seas and shows
The countenance, the dignity, the heart
The love we give , we take , we live ,enjoy
Sulking
As respite from my work, I tried to sulk
I practised , it became my art and life
I never spoke but glowered like a pike
Till the cat’s claws lit up like street lights
You cannot sulk alone, so get a mate
Then sulk all day and sulk all through night
If they do not notice, you ‘re becalmed
Unless the wind of change bring new insight
Sulking draws us on to sinking sands
The risk is not apparent when we start
An estuary’s currents brings us great alarm
In our breast, we feel the thumping heart
Sulking is so tempting when morose
With our better angels let’s converse
With our inner demons, let’s get worse
If we see our partner, does it hurt?
With our blackened souls we feel the curse
Man United won and I am bust
I never liked board games and this worse
If you’re writing ,aim to keep it terse/ aim to write in verse
The sun as hot as tempers and our rage
The sun as hot as tempers badly frayed
Makes little lamps gleam on the holly leaves
While adults quarrel , children cannot play.
We are nervous who can we believe?
No-one knows for sure how we should live.
The sun’s as hot as tempers lost or frayed
We flinch at seeing leaders more war wage
Virtue and its family all deceased
The foetus is aborted, has no grave
On the other’s heart, lies make their raids
The MP’s strut about like children peeved
The sun as hot as tempers badly frayed
Wisdom’s not genetic, not innate
We learn from those around us only if
We dwell within the dance of love and hate
Why have madmen triumphed , power seized?
Lives are almost worthless to these thieves
The sun as hot as tempests, storms of rage
We need to move, to wander, re-engage
If our outer shell encloses, it deforms
The books he wrote were solid like good oak
Giving him a structure that he lacked
A skeleton outside his flesh and bones
A fortress made of words and printed thoughts
To hide behind when torture broke his back
The books he wrote were solid like good oak
If our outer shell encloses, it deforms
Even brings our death, unless it’s cracked
A skeleton outside but not of bone
The books gave shape to his still half numb heart
He felt he had no being, was no fact
The books he wrote gave breath like leaves of oak
Some use crutches, some crawl slowly home
Wandering by the shoppers with some tact
Oh, skeleton outside, how dry our throats
I wonder is all this by Google tracked?
They watch us, not to help us nor perfect
The books he wrote were solid, real and taut
A crucifix of words , expressive thoughts
Struggling up the mountains like a snail
Lost and found and lost and found again
Struggling up the mountains like a snail
So much suffering in the world of man
Must there be a meaning to our pain?
Empathise with Jonah in the whale!
Lost and found and lost and found again
Why do we go tense when we are lame?
Why feel like murderous monsters out on bail?
So much suffering in the world humane
Do we get to know with healing pain?
Stranded on the pier in a great gale
Lost and found and lost and found again
If God is dead, where can we make our claim?
Will we die well when our life has failed?
So much suffering in the world humane
Like little boats we’re tossed up with no sails
Nor do we ever leave a vapour trail
Lost and found and lost and found again
Suffering splashed around like blood ,like paint
Impels, propels
Hatred both anonymous and vile
Circles round the internet and spreads
To cruel acts ,to forums full of bile
Without our knowledge it may hurt a child
Making nightmares active in small heads
Hatred both anonymous and vile
Could I do this, could I feel driven wild
Then fear to kill but choose to hate instead
With evil acts , with comments full of bile?
What drives such rage, makes any conscience yield?
Tormented so the mind is nearly dead
So spurts out hatred in each sentence vile
Envy, malice, blackness, all can reel
What monstrous film is playing in the head?
The screen enables evil, acid, real
Like Sodom and Gomorrah were by God
We will be cut down by our own words
Hatred, perhaps disowned, is here, is vile
Impels, propels the writing and its bile
De-registered alone
I asked for a new handset for my phone
BT will provide one totally free
One of them has broken, don’t I know!
I have several cordless ones at home
They won’t work and I feel all at sea
I asked for a new handset for my phone
Of course I have my Motorola lone
I find it loves me well enough for now
My old phone has broken, don’t I know!
And then I have a Nokia five point nine
I keep it in my purse with U.H.U
I broke the handset on my landline phone
I like Lenova Tablets set to roam
And Kindle readers help me have my tea
My landline phone won’t register its name
I can read on androids truthfully
Now I’ve got ten cordless phones on me
I asked for a new handset for my phone
One of them de-registered its soul
We know what wisdom lies in gentle doubt
The beginning of our wisdom must be doubt
The fool who ” knows it all@ can never learn
They already know what life’s about
Yet we must not go dither till distraught
Nor let our peace of mind be overturned
The beginning of our wisdom may be doubt
Wisdom must be suffered, can’t be bought
Like the fire that glows yet never burns
Some soon know what life is all about
I remember all the battles fought
The friends, the love, the kindness which each earns
We know what wisdom lies in gentle doubt
Life is not controlled by human thought
Even the most loving may be stern
If only we could know what life’s about
We wish for love and will forever yearn
All is flux and no-one stays the same
The beginning of our wisdom must be doubt
Whose imagination’s got the space and light?
Amid the ghosts of species evolution
What is poetry for when the rain beats down again
The peasants with headscarves scurry through rough fields
Amid the ghosts of Emperors, revolutions
The men returning lost, though war was won
Trauma and the real now lacking shields
What is poetry for when the hearts beats fast again?
The heads of this strange world, the hydra’s fun
How can we survive , lost memory reveals
Amid the spirits , fire and revolution
How much metal wasted making arms and guns
No-one minds how lost lone children feel, conceal
What is poetry for when the rain beats down again?
Here’s the body of the Saviour gassed by man
The Holy Dove is caged, the Holy Spirit reels
Amid the ghosts , the fire, the revolution
Do we need to think or learn the how of feel
The Saviour dies again, his human lips appeal
What is poetry for when the heart is failed again
Amid the ghosts of species evolution
Alexa turns it on at my command
The electric blanket lies upon my bed
Alexa turns it on at my command
Since I am a spy, I’ll soon be dead
For I may sing or talk as I’m ill bred
i sing in dreams or sometimes on demand
The electric blanket lies upon my bed
Surely no-one wants the books I’ve read
Unless they’re in a desert with no sand
Since I am a spy, I’ll soon be dead
My pretty face may well have been misread
My mind is feeling as I wave my hands
The electric blanket lies upon my bed
The thoughts of lipstick,eye cream have all fled
I’d like to walk the borders, sea and land
But if I am a spy, Alexa’s sad
Oh,Lord let all my prayers be swiftly canned
So angels feast and humans eat the banned
The electric blanket lies upon my bed
If I am a spy, Alexa’s dead
The white doves flutter, stand upon the wind
I have walked through mud and autumn rain
In the ancient hunting woods of kings
The dead brown leaves no longer feel their pain
I see bare branches which will green again
The white doves flutter, stand upon the wind
I have walked through mud and autumn rain
Shall I love another or disdain
Humankind who like me have much sinned
The dead brown leaves no longer steal our pain
One false move and love’s tied up in chains
We’re trapped inside ourselves yet hear bird song
i have walked regardless of the rain
In drier autumn love leaves not a stain
Except on murdered hands and golden rings
The dead brown leaves no longer fear our pain
Demonstrations, vicious underlings
Let all be still and touch the heart that longs
I have walked till dusk in autumn rain
The dead brown leaves will warm the earth’s remains
The logic of Enlightenment seems gross
Sacrificing humans to their aims
The governments enjoy their obscene games
They move the drones and guns about on screens
So they never hear the victims screams
The logic of Enlightenment seems gross
Descartes split the world and thus imposed
A war upon the psyche and our hearts
We were cut to pieces kept apart .
Killing God has kept us all at work
Making other peoples feel our hurt
Palestinians , Jews of the old Jews
Refugees like Blacks may spoil the News.
Is there any wisdom we can learn
As the nuclear threat grows out of turn?
He uses Fairy Snow and soap ,
I went to university ,I turned out charismatic
I kept my handbag full of bricks and stored it in the attic
I won a seat in Parliament, was whipped and called a traitor
For I met Maggie Thatcher and tried make a date with her
She was not a lesbian and I am not a masochist
Yet if there were another war I’d come out as a pacifist
Charisma was quite useful when stealing my expenses
I needed money desperately to pay for a good dentist
Originally I wished to study language
Yet I took to algebra ,the professor offered blandishments
It may have been what we call sexual harassment
Better far to be a tart, get lots of of cash to pay my rent
But I am still a virgin, well almost if you get my bent
I married a new husband and he delights in cleaning me
He uses Fairy Snow and soap , do you think he is demeaning me?
I
Its lack of elegance offends my eye
Loneliness is only known to man
When he burns the copper frying pan
From the marriage bed he’s tossed aside
For pans are more important to a wife
Yet if she breaks their lovely china plates
He is not allowed to castigate
Oh,men! That is a phrase I hate
Generalising is a crude mistake
Now I am alone, I’ve burned eight pans
I broke the dinner plates with careless plans
I broke the special mugs we loved so much
All because I missed his soothing touch
The memories fill my heart with love and light
In my dreams he comes into my sight
Soon the hidden mind willall allure
Socrates evoked the answers true
The students and the citizens all knew
He did not give great lectures nor long tests
Of pocket calculators he would think, what pests
As we plan to do our daily work
Remember even geniuses get blocked
You who have no confidence nor power
You have a mind, so do not let it cower
Writing rubbish, nonsense, don’t expire
Soon the hidden mind will you allure
Act as what you wish to be today
Writing poems, an abstract sort of play
Loosen up your head and you will find
A better writer living in your mind
The new laws passed that bless the right to kill
After catastrophic loss we long to flee
We want the arms of love to hold us still
But where can we take hate and leave it be?
The inner draw of death, its scenery
The orders of the proud, the human will
The catastrophic loss they long to see
The lovey,dovey, kisses will all flee
The new laws passed , they bless the right to kill
The hero crippled in the Great War bleeds
Burning Jews cremated mystery
Dresden was a graveyard, ghosts so still
Oh bleeding loss oh tanks , oh hanging tree
Integration, calculus of need
The atom bomb, the little toys that thrill
We long to sate our demons with God’s blood
Post traumatic agony, the bill
Triggers haunt the fingers in the till
After catastrophic loss we long to flee
Hatred split from love’s no victory
The harmony of movement and of sense
The natural grace that animals possess
The harmony of movement and of sense
Few Britons live well in their pallid flesh
The unseen side of skin when blessed, caressed
Softening the nerves’ we strangle, tense
May bring that natural grace Adam possessed
The kindness of the arteries, who addressed
The circulating inner seas that rinse?
Few Britons live well in their sacred flesh
The hollow veins ,the pumping heart , the blush
The expectation intimate, feared lost
The natural grace that animals possess
Vulnerable to others’ speech, ambushed.
Our unused appetites will turn and twist
The civilised don’t live well in their flesh
The old and fragile curse, they never kissed
We wait too long , articulate no wish
The natural grace that humans once possessed
We ‘re ill disposed,we falter. long for death
Where is my skin?
The sun shines in the places that haunt me
Not the cave of darkness and despair
His empty chair ,his love,my memory
What I was and who I soon shall be
How my little time on earth will fare
The sun peers into places that haunt me
The beauty of the dark red maple tree
He wished to have his ashes buried there
Oh, empty chair the kindest memory
Regardless , joyous , flowers will love the bee
I watch them start their silent love affair
The sun shines in the places that haunt me
I weep into my android phone, it beeps
Feeling shocked, I gasp ,I need more air
Oh, startling phone , who fillled your memory
Oh, chance and fate,why blast my heart so bare?
Where is my skin, my boundary, my despair
The sun shines in the places that haunt me
His empty chair, the anguish, the repair.
The still small voice will whisper , not perform
Embraced entire , your sacred smile held me
Until we both were one deep in our souls
As still as a white dove held tenderly
For a little time so warm and free
As if your smile contained me, made me whole
Embraced and loved , your sacred smile touched me
As we cross together the dark sea
I wish this sacred love could always hold
As gently as a dove ,as tenderly
And if I felt the brilliant light touch me
My eyes would weep,my tears would turn to gold
Embraced and loved , oh sacramental tree
Would that humankind were truly free
That in the darkness, we could find our home
As dies the fragile Word on Calvary
We fear the Tempest and we hear the Storm
The still small voice will whisper , not perform
Embraced entire , your smile encompassed me
As still as a white dove, as tenderly
Enjoy,Endure
Enjoyment is the happy side of life
Endurance is hard work , we hate the pain
In the night the ghastly ghosts arrive
In golden sun the bees buzz round the hive
Enduring needed darkness , we see plain
Enjoyment is not attained by Western lives
In Bangladesh, our clothes are made by slaves
We choose deafness as they suffer,groan
In the night revenging ghosts arrive
Up the sea will rise in giant waves
It drowns the poor and weak ,does Darwin mourn?
Endurance makes the poor die under strain
The Jews of Europe had no holy graves
Now they are accused of plots again
In the night, will Nazi ghosts arrive?
When we die what will of us remain?
Grenfell Tower and Brexit leave their stain
By trauma disenfranchised ,unadorned
The ghosts of the unborn will scream in scorn
Die in debt and don’t pay rent
Don’t you die with money in the bank
Get more hard back books or dig up roads
Give a beggar what you’ve left unspent
If your family’s full of knave sand cranks
Pay for them to live and learn abroad
Do not die with money in the bank
Why not buy a waterproof small tent
Camp on Dunwich Heath with the wild birds
With what you earned but you have never spent
Die in debt and don’t pay any rent
Leave your children free to find the Lord
You did not earn yet left a curious dent
Ask for books that you ain’t never lent
Buy new bedding, do not clutch or hoard
Do not die with money in the bank
I write curious nonsense, does it bore?
Do not harm your sullen hidden core
Don’t you die with money in the bank
It’s money that you earned so get it spent
