Category: reflections

Passing through

 

 

 

Tomorrow I shall eat a big icecream
Brought to me by courier  when I choose
If I cannot get one I shall scream
Rather pointless, how about more booze?

I shall drink  more tea and read a book
I read Ted Hughes letters late at night
I finished Sylvia’s journals, I was hooked
Brilliant, sad, pathetic, what outsight

I read her letters,  how she worked  too hard
Even as a tiny  child she strove
How she longed for greatness and rewards
Starting on the tapestry, don’t go!

Harder still and harder,masochist
Will and nature cannot co-exist
Flowers open  when the bees swing past
Birds build nests but  never build too fast

We need to be in tune with our own world
Harmonise  our breathing with the waves
See the  little leaves as they uncurl
Forget   advice,  enjoy life  till the grave

Any moment is epiphany
Jesus  passes by  but we are blind
Though now and then we catch a  burning tree
When we are in rhythm  with  the Mind

Up the waves run on the   risen shore
Bringing  wild  signs from  the ocean floor
Grit and pearls  and love we won’t ignore
Wise the whale  and wise the open door

 

Welcomed by God’s eye

Dwell  inside your heart and breathe  just so
From there your spirit body  can outflow
Spread this round your loved one like a shawl
No need to  make a sound for  love will call

Two are one  like lovers in their bed
But now one has to leave , love cuts the thread
In  full silence ,  welcomed by God’s eye
They concentrate on  this  before they die

In  your  gracious  warmth they’re  feeling safe
As a child is in a mother’s gaze
Time  no longer matters. we’re elsewhere
Walking humbly ,softly i  to God’s stare

At last the work is done and   they are  free
Who can understand such mystery?

Grace may come as small as  grains of sand

Material wealth can come in many ways
Inheritance, good luck, good work and pay
But with  the spirit, will power cannot win
Only those who’re humble,admit sin

Pain and grief , companions  of our life
Married to the losses as a wife
Grace may come as small as  grains of sand
Or like the wren that hovers near our hands

In imagination  breathe  as then
Slow, protective, patient and human
See in your mind’s eye the perfect wood
The trees  sing out as sun  warms sap, their blood

We can  research the wealth in figures, charts
Envy  not  the rich who have no heart

 

 

And bless

From Ausschwitz rose not only leaking gas
But also  ash from Jews and recent dead
But  rose the holy souls  of those who  had just passed

In the  great Cathedrals  priests said Mass
Turned the host  to Jesus , ate  the Bread
From Auschwitz rose not only leaking gas 

What use is worship, prayer,  can the good last?
What can Christian minds do when we’re mad ?
Oh,see  the holy souls   weep as they pass

Bodies piled in heaps  no human trust
Jesus needs  salvation ,God is dead
In Auschwitz   human beings  gassed ,now dust

Eat your dinner,Daddy,   keep abreast
You worked hard , a Nazi,  gas,  fire, blood
The holy souls fly on, they find no rest

We think that we are better  than a God
For he permitted sin, Job understood
From Auschwitz rose not only  smoke and gas
But holy  souls oh,  find their bones and bless

 

 

Trust the Unknown,trust the inner flow

The sky at dusk, my camisole , love’s grace
Blending blue and mauve in  skilled embrace
God the painter ,God the X unknown
Send  us light to see where our  our love goes

Drop by drop the spirit ebbs away
Now the sky is dark in stark blue-grey
In the mind the dreams  rehearse and scheme
Take away the terror and the screams

Hold us in your Hand as we let go
Trust the Unknown,trust the inner flow
Who but you can show us  what we need
As we crawl to bed  in   fraught unease?

Now the air is black I see a star
I feel the void  yet love dwells even there

I forgave him everything last year

My brother kindly set my hair on fire
He stole my food  from off the plate   or floor
So for a man I  had repessed desire

He took me fishing in a pond close by
I loved him very much,indeed adored
My brother madly set my hair on fire

We went in  disused brick kilns, we were spies.
Of his company  I never  tired
Yet for  new men I feel not much desire

Now his time has come and soon he’ll die
I forgave him everything last year
His voice is weak, he thanked me  and I cried

I did not plan forgiveness  nor to lie
“God ” filled  me with love ,  our lives restored
Yet for new brothers I   feel  some  desire

Who left Daddy’s matchsticks near my boy?
He could  not know he would destroy my hair
My brother hurt me, set my hair on fire
We choose to love until we  both expire

 

 

 

 

I’ve got migraine in my heart

I’ve got migraine in my heart
Spasms of grief  constrain the flow
The poor go down and the rich depart

I just looked at my shopping cart
The tower blocks lean, the street lights glow
I’ve got migraine in my heart

I’ve got eggs and milk and tarts
The poor can’t sleep  and their children snore
The poor go down and the rich depart

The teachers wish their work  could start
The benefits  system  overflows
I  felt pandemonium in my heart

In the sky  are  UFO’s
Where they go to I  may know
I’ve got migraine in my heart
The poor downtrodden, oh, damn  you Marx

 

The eyes were open still, I saw.

He was on his bike and they ran him down
He had dared to go outside
The  law is  the law and  the law is a clown
The punishment  can  beat down the crime

They thought they’d go out, they were getting bored
The police felt the same  so they  claimed
Maybe a fine wth some warning words
Ths is the day that they died

One was a singer and one was a fraud
 Which one was which I don’t know
The police came down like the wolf on the fold
The eyes were  open, still I saw.

Women must  bear the young   men beget
But what does  our society  affirm?
The policemen   have guns and   they owe us a debt
But  will they ever,ever learn?

Boris Johnson raised  up from the dead

The Tower of Babel fell down in the night
The people spoke but noone could reply
We  cried out but noone listened then
Nor did we salvage much  from wrecked Big Ben

Boris Johnson raised  up from the dead
His pleasures once , pre- flu,  lay in the bed
He spread his seed about  so it’s no boast
To  bear his child nor feed him Sunday roast

He will lead the country out of sin
His  brilliant way:  to  stop  us logging in
No more one click books  or   toys for sex
No more screws and curtain rails to fix.

Ah now enjoy the peace  of empty space
Yet we  grieve for lack of an embrace

Daniel writes a litter

nature animal wilderness head
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Dear Malcom

I ‘m surrey it iz zoo long  since we had a feel to gather.I whoop that hence the -pan-de- mer-gimmick is  covert ,we can go to the Zoo  and flee the wild  terminals in fractions that is  a rational  protection
I am still preaching  topology and Harry’s bottle for  Beginners with a  hint of  Jeremiah
I don’t   know why I    lather.Even Newton did not under scan infinitesmals and  how  revealing they might be  in  baiter years.
My sister had a  chip replacement lately.I don’t  relieve the  terrain was unwearable
She is merry stoical, I have churned a lot from hair
I  have to phone  pandemonium and  they take  me to B and Q  or some  preliminary stage where I am triaged by a hearse before a doctor examines me
The adrenalin  aches and I crunch my vertabrae.I do Su Doku to concede the  drain I am in but  improving my gestures would be  bitter
I tried the Times Crossword but I flout even Dirac would have diminished it in a day
So now I  am heating my crutch as I am angry
Hope to key you on Zoom soon
With last wishes
Daniel and  his lion  Ariel

Reason was  no aid in that dead wood

I walked,I stumbled where I’d never been
No friend nor ally  guided me  nor could
In the  mesmerising  agony of grief

Wandering like an outcast ,  never queen
Reason was  no aid in that dead wood
I wandered  through the shadows of my  dreams

I felt the ground beneath me swirl and seethe
As if to kill me too or spill my blood
In the desolate place  of  darkness deep 

Rosemary,remembrance, flowering wreaths
Inside the  human heart  will mercy   flood?
I wandered  where to love would be obscene

But in the arctic wastes , surprised by  good
In late winter trees will start bud
I wandered  on until my heart revived
From that place of peril came new life

They could not wear bikinis on hot sands

In the Jewish ghettos and Death Camps
Did Jews complain they  had no holidays?
They could not wear bikinis on  hot sands
Nor did they ask for somewhere they could pray

We can’t go to Spain  nor Singapore
We must stay  near home,oh  such dismay
I ache so for the poor in tower  blocks
Where violence and harsh words  erupt each day

We can get our food if we have friends
We can read  or write or even pray
Why  complain, the poor  bear heavier loads
Will we be sympathetic on such dreadful days

Our sadly narrow views  don’t serve us well
When other people  in  confinement dwell

The words tell what we did

The symbols, signs, the words are not the world
Yet scholars confuse laymen with their terms
“How to love your children” is advice
Hiding in the  syntax  is no life

I knew Latin grammar and her forms
I dwelled inside ellipses,I was torn
I could not live two lives so I chose  rules
Then I  found success like many fools

Grammar and   its logic   cracked my mind
I stole the key,I  left the door behind
I found the prizes on my shelf arrayed
The golden prayer book  shredded  and decayed

The simple may  be better  fit to live
Those words were darts, yet love can’t but forgive

 

 

Evoked  death sentences  while still unborn

Oh,mother was it my fault I was born?
You conceived me in a country waging war
So once for sure you did not sleep alone

I was too thin, the doctor was alarmed
My sin of prematurity was scored
Oh,mother was it my fault I was born?

Thank you for your milk, your breast, my home
In sadness wish you’d loved me or adored
Dad  once said  you did not sleep alone

I could not be an infant, was forlorn
While  you weaned me  in my rage I bawled
Oh,mother, why the judgement  of love scorned?

I frightened  you by   reading  minds  and bones
Evoked  death sentences  while still unborn
I’m glad you did not  always sleep alone

Why keep knocking  on the oven door?
Sylvia Plath  used gas ,that Nazi porn
Oh,mother  reason  can’t  prove I was born
But you helped  the human race   and kept some warm

 

 

 

Wreaths of smoke

Daddy where were you  when I was sad
I bought you Woodbines in the corner shop
I carried your boiled egg with salt on plate
You lay in bed   adorned with wreaths of smoke

Uncle Herbert  died when I was five
Not  many   of Dad’s brothers left alive
But Bert was old and all his children grown
He lay inert, the coffin dark, the stone

I saw yours and Grandad’s too, false oak
The  Cemetery   filled  with  men and broken     jokes
So baffled  by affection we  would seek
And for her mother’s  grave, we  often looked

We  too will be broken, wordless earth
Worms will do their work. the lungs, the breath

Wet diamonds 

15977118_846858878787325_6294777997997974550_n
Beware the delivery pass they sell
For I ,so foolish, for one fell
It says I can order every day
But  guess what folks, they make me pay
I  tried to do one this weekend
But in 6 days I have sinned
I bought 2 loaves just for the ghosts
Foetuses, and  heavenly hosts
Though  my babies never grew
I have  shawls both pink and blue
O mother, mother, come here now
I need your arm ,these thoughts hurt me
My  linen closets ready yet
I know my babies can’t come back
Now I’m old,I’d like to see
Their eyes  so gentle smile their plea
Tantrums, shrieks and other noise
I would welcome any voice
And one might look like my dear love
Why did God take them above? 
Mysterious are his ends and days
How can humans  know his ways?
The Lord may give, the Lord  may take
Blessed be his wounded Face
For God himself does suffer too
His eyes wet diamonds ,  polished dew

Few resist 

Why would wealthy Europe world wars fight
While Popes in cloth  of gold  writhed  as they sinned?
Few resist  the diamonds for the Light

Ambivalent love   split,  what sight  could  be found
When we spend too much time with our own kin
Missed experience shapes our eyes and minds

Those who cannot see, the wholly blind
Feel their deep emotion and may win
Love was offered  then returned as  Strikes

Yet in cultured Europe God has  died
We waged war with ardour, this was sin
Desire  overwhelms our eyes , oh  god, oh plight

Fell three Empires,states unplanned designed
Christians fought each other with new guns
So love was   never offered, simply feigned

In the eyes of infants light is dim
Wars are  made by  pschopaths at whim
Why would    proud, glad  Europe world wars fight?
Few resist   tempation , black the Light

Shame is bitter, wrecks our feeling heart

I see  down in  the  valley of the Lea
Tower blocks  and numerous tiny homes
Here the Vikings came, oh, savagery
The valley is so ugly it alarms

As I look at  my books, it’s unfair
I feel sad for children who have none 
Our average reading age  grows lower  every year
I   feel angry at our leaders nothing  done

During Lockdown where shall  children play?
Those who have no gardens  shut indoors
The  end point of  such suffering is dismay
Humiliation grows   right in a  heart’s deep core

Shame is bitter, wrecks our feeling heart
A home for Satan made with   thoughtless art

We learn to see in part

 

The sun has gone and jaundiced is the sky
The silence  of the empty roads is good
For from my garden birds are  flying high
In this  precious green   we grew a wood

No holiday in Venice or Dubai
Lockdown  keeps us in   what do we sigh
 I want to  see  the   village of old Cley
The still small voice  shall speak before we die

No more  shall  rich  possesions make us high
Nor shall buying cream and caviare
We are judged by God’s incisive  eye
Stand up,  live,  despite that  all’s awry

The Sacred World  behind our little one
We learn to see in part though we are dumb

Sugar in the tea

I’ve got no more rotten eggs
Well, is that not good?
I resent throwing fresh ones at politicians
Why not threw that cat’s litter?
Kittens!
Well, it is a tom cat
He probably has hundreds of children
That reminds me of Boris Johnson
I know he is partly Turkish
What’s that got to do with having children?
I was just passing a remark
His grandad was the son of an immigrant
I say, we should ban them
That’s extreme
What do you suggest?
We’ll only have Muslims and Jews
That is ridiculous
Why?
They also have lots of children
Let’s go back to eggs.
Do you want devilled eggs for your tea?
Where I come from we just put sugar in our tea.
How original!
We couldn’t afford real food unless the cat caught a hen
Then you hate foxhunters
Well, they don’t eat the foxes… it’s pure barbarity
Still, not as bad as  the Holocaust and who tried to stop that?
I wasn’t born then 
But you  look like a Valkrie
Except I am not a maiden and is it my fault I jad golden hair?
Why  not  a maiden?
I  got married 5 times.
Well, I admire your hope but not your experiences
Three were men and the last two were women
Next you will be  marrying that cat
I hope I don’t have kittens!
Well, better than nothing
I am not sure about that
Never say never, again
What,never?
Miaow

A rondel

I feel you presence and I almost see
The face  that was  so loving .sadly gone
There may be millions but you were my own
The anguish and the joy were all for me
As we walked the white sands by the sea
Picking sea shells, seeing washed white bones
I feel you presence and I almost see
The face  that was familiar,strangely gone
We had a home, we had a nutmeg tree
We grew apples,rosy in the sun
Flavour  vanished  like the honeycomb
Yet salty flavours linger in the sea
I feel you presence but I  cannot see
The face  that was  so loving,  known by none

 

Weaving

The world is woven  in such different ways
Struts the vertical, the flat below
Oh God who weaves me shall by me be praised

Oh, shall the mystic reach what she may crave
When all  the strings release and she falls low
The world is woven  in its different ways

Timed by ritual Lady Lazarus rose
And all the eyes that gazed were burning slow
Yes, God who weaves me shall by me be praised

There is a hollow  only Ariel knows
As horse and rider as one being flow
The world is sensed  in  wholly different ways

The body ,home of mind, will   run astray
Oh, what seams of evidence forego
Fallen God  who unacknowledged knows

Beneath the sea of green the undertow,
Spirits sidle  deep like melting snow
The world is woven  in such different ways
That God who weaves me shall by me be praised

If your aim is good

 

Scilla-greilhuberi-2020Why do people  boil eggs?
They need to keep getting into hot water

Why do others fry eggs?
They want to make sure there is nothing live in there

And furthermore, why poach?
To annoy landowners.

Why are eggs so popular?
They can’t speak.

Eggs are used in baking, why?
They need to be useful

Can one egg be enough?
Yes, if your aim is good.

Can I live on eggs for a few days?
If you are  very small  and light

Can I eat just  a few eggs for all my meals
Not the same ones.

Is  bread a good idea for  egg sandwiches?
It’s essential for any sandwich regardless

Is an egg good for the  old?
The old what?

Can I polish the floor with eggs?
Dropped them again?

How about the chest of drawers
Who was he?

Why do people throw eggs at politicians?
Because they look so underfed, I imagine

But it’s a waste of money!
Views differ but  rotten eggs will do or ones  more than 5 weeks old

Can eggs last longer if coated in vaseline?
Longer than what?

Do hens grieve for their eggs?
I can’t take any more
Anymore what?

 

Even in  the rain, light gave him joy

The first warm days, the birds sing in their nests
So brilliant is the sun it seems new born
In the shady green I take my rest

The art of living cannot be a test
Nor can it leave a lover all forlorn
The first warm days, the birds sing in their nests

When surprised by joy, we regain zest
Despite the costs of living and its storms
In the shady green let’s take a rest

Before he died,  he sat,he gazed  out West
Even in  the rain, light gave him joy
The bright, warm days, the birds sing in their nests

I remember Arnside, green and blessed
The hills across  the bay where we  have climbed
In the shady green let’s  dream and rest

In our childhood there the patterns form
Hope  to harvest now the rich, ripe corn
The clear blue  days, the birds  keep warm their nest
In the shades of Arnside  let me rest

 

From the dust

Power and love, two ways that we connect
One is often hateful, one respects
The Other is a person , I and Thou
Two words, two worlds , which  love could well endow

Power has many guises, most deceive
Talking  big  but wanting to receive
Men of power who long for even  more
The Jaguar, the palace, the gold door

A select   few  took risks to save the cursed
The Jewish baby, Amsterdam, the fist
The parents on a train,  like cattle crammed
Death  was not the end their  love had planned

Hurtling into darkness, when all’s lost
A still small voice shall  whisper  from the dust
 

Who are we?

Photo1660
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To fulminate against the hands of fate
To vent our anger on  beloved friends
Will not repair our ills and our mistakes
But may bring friendships to  a bitter end.

For who are we to know what is the best?
Who are we to choose when loved ones die?
And  do not think this is a needed test.
As if on us God wastes his time to spy.

Once  we were a joining of two cells
The lively sperm, a salmon riding high.
The egg awaiting without  need for bells
Is fertilised and grows that which  shall die.

Astonishing that we should live at all.
Unsurprising, that a loved one falls.

 

Ain’t no police

The geese no longer fly past at sundown
They’re eaten by the “immigrants”  folks say
Who also kill and murder every day
The English are so perfect  in my town

That man is not an alien though he’s brown
He was born in Bradford  near the mills
His parents worked there till it made them ill
And now he is a graduate with a gown

My ancestors came to fight and to invade
They killed the  men and made the women wives
What chance that some  few English might survive
Are they now on benefits or aid?

The nesting swans have killed or maimed the geese
In their natural world ain’t no police

New cliches

What I need are cliches, new and vague
The ghost has got it wrong with howling bones
Sniffing the police leaves them enraged

If I hurt you, I am wise not sage
Moss is useful in a mixing bowl
 I need  lots of cliches, new and vague

Let’s get married if we’re not engaged
I don’t have the tools to fetch in coal
Sniffing the police leaves them enraged

Paradox is  vital in our age
Politicians   toss out joints all rolled
 Send me cliches, new and  somewhat vague

When this is over  who will be in role?
The sun has got no hat on ,I it stole
 I need  more cliches, new and  quietly vague
Sniffing the police leaves  men enraged

Whatever suits your heart

Am I an  idolator  today
For to St Jude I have been known to pray
Patron of the Hopeless, the Outcast
I call on him to find my shopping list

I call on him when I have lost my phone
And long to hear my  husband’s mobile groans
If this ignites distress I am to blame
The fires of love are what keep women sane

I call on him while  homesick though at  home
Without my love  the house feels empty, lone
 Does God  detest me when I pray for aid?
For these years, with suffering I have paid

Say or sing whatever suits your heart
We never  gain the end if we don’t start

Wandering

I walked,I stumbled where I’d never been
No friend nor ally  guided me  nor could
In the  mesmerising  sharp pain of my grief

Wandering like an outcast ,  never queen
Reason was  no aid in that dead wood
I wandered  through the shadows of my  dreams

I felt the ground beneath me swirl and seethe
As if to kill me too or spill my blood
In the desolate place  of  darkness deep 

Rosemary,remembrance, flowering wreaths
Inside the heart  will mercy  come to flood?
I wandered  where to love would be obscene

But in the arctic wastes , surprised by  god
In late winter trees will start bud
I wandered  on until my heart revived
From that place of peril came new life

 

God, at last

Human sacrifice had disappeared
Would God bring it back to  strike with fear
The hearts of children washed in Jesus’ blood
His heart so sacred died, does that sound good?

Why stress the Cross, the  crown of thorns, the fear
As if God is a sadist,  cold yet nuclear
Who  might wish to   propagate this myth?
In Eden  dwell to hear the snakes that hiss

Jesus, kind and brave,  had no cruel wish
To feed a crowd he conjured loaves and fish
He  walked on water,  perhaps he loved to tease
No Caesar he,  his stories were decrees. 

And in the night, he wept  but never cursed
God, at last, knew humans at their worst