http://specials.about.com/service/newsletters/poetry/1324555200.htm

I used to love my mother
but then I got too old.
She didn’t want to feed me
Because I felt the cold.
My feet and hands were purple
which she told me was wrong.
I couldn’t change the colour
so had to change my tongue.
I used to love my father
Until he went away.
They said he’s with the angels
and small girls ought to pray.
And then I loved the cat we had
And all four kittens too…
Until my mother got fed up
and sent them to the zoo.
I said I am disheartened
Life is far too hard…
or else I’m hypersensitive
and must become a bard.
I loved a Spanish waiter.
A young man from Peru.
I loved a lot of others–
No more than ninety two.
That is just an estimate
An average, a norm.
It’s what I told the doctor

When he filled out a form

He said to me,You err,my dear
And I mistook his speech
I thought he meant he loved me.
But he just meant to teach.
What he meant was quantity
is not what we desire..
One man is sufficient
Unless he is a liar.
And in the darkness of the bed
What matters is their smell.
Some men smell like honey..
much more I cannot tell
for though these men pursued me
I had such poor eyesight
I didn’t  see them properly
especially at night..
I was more keen on Wittgenstein.
and whether I am real..
Maybe I’ve gone crackers

And don’t know  I’m surreal

I don’t want any lovers now
for love brought so much pain
I’d rather be a jellied eel
than fall in love again.
But friendliness and welcome
Are what we humans need…
And cats and dogs and willow trees
Which don’t make our hearts bleed.
One man is sufficient
And necessary too..
Without my own sweet husband
whatever would I do?
He listens with his heart and soul
And he is never harsh…
He likes to hear me singing
Across of Southwold Marsh.
He likes to take the ferry boat
Across the River Blythe.
But now I hope the ferryman
will not yet arrive..
We have to cross that river
We have to let life go…
We have to be untied and freed.
We think,but do we know?
In the silvery moonlight,
Time gets her own  way
In the darkness of the night
Time will have her say.
Time has come and gone again
And so the hand descends
So I bid you fond farewell,
We have reached the end.
Oh,wrap me up dear mother
in my winding cloth
Take me in your ancient arms
for I have had enough.
I’ve loved and loved and loved again.
I’ve puzzled and I’ve pained
but all I want’s a writing tool
To write down words again

I didn’t know I’d love you

With both my heart and mind

Every love is different

Each is a special kind

I didn’t know I’d miss you

In quite the way I do.

For we can’t  feel emotion

Before its time is due.

And are you missing me now

Despite angelic hosts?

They  may care for you ,dear

But I think I cared the most.

Yet all human lovers

Must part and go their ways.

Some may die and fall to dust

Some may go astray.

I didn’t know I’d love you

And hurt invade my heart.

I didn’t know that  you’d love me.

But  we would have to part.

From mother and her bosom

From father and his strength

We  lose and gain throughout our life

Whatever is its length.

I didn’t know I’d miss you

With all my loving heart.

But . as we’re made of fragile flesh.

Humans  must  sadly part.

If you had been a sadist

If you had been unkind.

I would not now be grieving

And half losing my mind.

So maybe I should be grateful

For being found and known.

I wish you were still sitting here.

And I were not alone.

When we feel so lonely

No-one else will do.

It’s not that I am just lonely.

I’m lonely, just for you.

In the wet and stony

Pathways we must go

We must keep on walking;

Be patient  when we’re slow.

The inner force is working

To make new maps for me.

Wherever they shall guide my steps,

With you I’ll  long to be.

The butterfly is like a flower
which moves its station every hour.
Oh,happy is he on the wing.
The vision makes me quick to sing.
The flower is open in the sun,
And to its heart, true love shall come.
The bees shall feast and fly replete
With nectar they are now full sweet.
I sing of colour and of love,
Blessings that rain down from above.
I wish to be a flower too.
Ah,that the bee could but be you

Flowers by virtue of design
Appeal  to both the heart and mind.
First perceive and then dwell on
Beauty,truth and hence reason.

Sometimes I had my eye too close to the keyhole

Pulled there by some force like gravity.

I was gazing with a sharp but narrow focus

into what I thought was the real.

But the precision of my gaze

left out the surroundings, the other doors and rooms

that  I might have inhabited.

As he came to me and opened his arms with no rancour,,

so my eyes opened wider,I took in the new wide vision

and left my crouched and aching position

no longer attached like a magnet to your force,

He was there with his sea eyes.

He knew the human condition

And how to inhabit a  conversation.

Of course he’s had his wounds but never failed to feel

for himself and others.

In the night he goes through in his mind’s eye the faces

of his friends;

holding them ,like he’d once held fragile rose buds

when we were married,

and asked silently for grace.

The keyhole no longer seemed important

I suppose narrowing the focus can keep out knowledge of pain..

But the pain is atill there;

I have always loved the word “Acknowledge.”
And now I use it. I acknowledge this pain

Their eyes drew me,
And their eyes draw me again
Into a pool of winter light
Golden from the low sun.
I swim in it
Like a hawk flows on the wind
Over the depths,
Of life.
Contained by a white china cup,
I’m your reflection now
Drowning in the slanting sunlight
Like a stone in a lake.
Falling deeper until I find
the creative mud
with which I mingle
no longer a stone
but a soft flowing stream of sensations
which meets with joy
the earth’s depths and presence.
And something new will grow

Related articles

When true love’s gone and doom hangs over head,

When life runs like a river to the sea;

Then, shall I take new lovers to my bed,

And with their carnal touch consoled be?

When  lovers lie and break my woman’s heart,

When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path,

Then, shall I my life of evil start,

And, on the world, shall I bestow my wrath?

When true loves lie and wreck all loyalty;

When puzzlement makes all the world seem mad;

Then I shall upend causality

And let myself do deeds which make men glad.

For I have love’s own child inside my soul

And I shall tend her till at last  she’s  grown