When we speak but do not look upon
The person we address, we are undone We miss the tiny signs, the looks, the lines We treat them as mere object we define We treat them like a post of wood or stone As if we cannot hurt nor cause them shame We hit them with sharp words or thoughtless rot And on and on until hate is begot
All want to be acknowleged,seen and heard
But must approach each other with great care For most of us are thin skinned, nervous beasts Who fear they are not asked to the great Feast And in a thousand gestures we declare We are not speaking merely to thin air
I wondered how the two of me would be
If the sperm had got inside a different egg And my egg was penetrated by a bee Then by sperm whose entry was by bag
I often hum and buzz as I walk out
All unknowing of the neighbours thoughts Full of concentration and of guilt Wondering what my other half has bought
One half of me would know no way to change
It’s not like making sponges filled with jam Unless the universe were rearranged Then we’d all be in the frying pan
I cannot let this thinking carry on
I can be myself and all is one
When the Jews came back to their old homes
They buried them alive in pits they dug The ground was heaving as the Jews died, choked Murdered by the neighbours like mad dogs
Hard it is to know what creates this
The sadism happens when we least expect When old neighbours might greet with a kiss Now they load the living into stacks
Were they so poor they feared that they would starve
What does Total War mean when it’s said? The Jews’ land into small pieces was carved Some Jews came back when locals thought them dead If only they had not created G-d They would be given perfect ,total love
Emotions flow like music in the mind
A humming deep within the very self Even in our sleep the patterns wind Transformed to opera,images and health The hum of children’s voices is benign Two and two are four, oh Alice knows Who has made thes minds so well designed? Who has suffered well the pain, the blow?
Cut out the music, worship reason pure
Kant the human suffered it in shock And in his way he wandered as a cure Konigsburg with bridges was well stocked Freed up in our humming, glad to hear The music of the heart, the dark, the spheres
The old man and the seea were calm as glass
The Cafe was surrounded by mixed blooms He was listening to a lady who described The flowers, their colour,name all afternoon
He could not see at all yet was relaxed
Indeed he was delighted in the sun I thought blind men were piteous,full of fear That tells you more of me, than of the men Below the steep cliff path, in ran the sea I can’t imagine how our Airforce fought Barely trained young men went out to war Is Brexit Britain worthy of their Cause?
Now the blind man gazes out to sea
Was he one of those who kept us free?
I must change my name, it is too long
Even folk from Yorkshire get it wrong As for those techniciians far away My long name is very hard to say I could take the action via law Or marry someone with a name like Shaw Smith is overused when we don’t ride Lord would be ok, can we abide? I’m tired of being asked to spell it out It hurts the listener who knows not its roots Banks and braes are well known to the Scots Thwaite is an old Norse word . what the heck
We must be invaders who burst in
Killing Celts and Saxons, is that sin?
From time and place and season I am lost,
Disorientated ,missing tracks well worn .Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost, Nor label me with epithets of scorn. For usual paths lead to the usual place. the safest way to live and perhaps to die, But wandering through the woods I find new space and in wild grasses with the fox I lie .Through distant trees, I see a way to go As narrow as a slit in pale limestone .I pass in silence as if in deep,deep snow .My courage rises even as I groan. Remember when we’re lost ,we may then find Another way,a place,another mind.
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My heart is soft like butter left in sun.
Much more heat and it will melt and run Oh, why do we have feelings,why engage When friendship turns into such bitter rage? I do not wish to live remote and stern As if I am so perfect I can’t learn Pain too deep can mortify the flesh Turn us into robots fit for trash
All I need is an enormous fridge Which will make me harder than sweet fudge I’ll go inside and pray for peace each day If I freeze to death,I shall not say.
Oh, be of merry heart,my friends and foes
When love comes in, a little hate will go
A strange comingling of the mills and moors
Green of nature,smoke from chimneys glowers While sheep graze their wool is touched by smoke But higher up the ground is bare of hope
Peering down I recognise the view
Rows of terraced houses share a loo Women wear their aprons with panache Boys are playing,give or take a bash.
Miners walking home with faces black
Painters with their ladders and their sacks Little girls are skipping with their ropes Cats are watching idly, kittens mope
Which way shall we go, we must decide
The green hill with no walls, the red brick eyes?
Unconscious of our cruelty, we sin
Yet pride ourselves as worthy and refined Those who know themselves are modest souls Who do to those around them little harm
Blinded to our our faults we strut about
Causing pain to others, oh what charm If we break the rules,we have no doubts From our errors we can never learn
So I look on your insults and smile
Self image admits nothing makes a change I shall not keep your sentences in files Unlike dried flowers in vases well arranged Yet though you now evade a little pain Your company will never be the same
No rought beast shall slouch to Bethlehem
There is no track or pattern to our fate Once Jesus’ feet were bathed by Magdalen Now communities of love disintegrate. The world does fall apart, the centre’s gone There is no named War, but armies kill Or single, abject men who carry guns On other nearby folk will shoot at will There seem to be no ” better” sort of men But all lack much conviction,common good They follow gold with bent accountant’s pen Calvin’s “way to heaven”, Noah’s flood
Now there is no road nor path nor beast
Confusion,chaos,populism will feast
When soft winds blow and air strokes our bare skin .When days are long like melodies of youth, when light wakes up the soul from out her sin Then shall we know when this sweet life is truth? When flowers droop and leaves are dried and brown; When water’s short and all the ground’s forlorn Then do not meet disaster with a frown, For out of heartfelt sorrow new life’s born .When winter’s here and all is quiet and still And nothing seems to move or grow or speak Then we shall learn the limits of our will When through the soil the first green shoots will break .For seasons change and actors come and go. Yet through such changes, life is what we know
Now speaks the earth of spring and all its joys.
Now flowers and blossom soothe our lonely eyes.
So happy are the lovers, girls and boys,
As in the daisied meadows they may lie.
Now speaks the sun and makes us want to grow
to open like the flowers for his love
To let the life within us start to flow.
With blessings sent down to us from above.
Now every part of nature is in flood
Fresh leaves point down from trees to holy nests
The birds are active in this little wood,
And dwelling on the tree branch breast to breast.
Oh let’s not waste time glued to inner thoughts.
For we may miss the joy which spring has brought
Since you died I learned to use a crutch I have noone to lean on, none to touch I wanted you to die with kindly ease Now I miss another I could tease
Noone knows what was our special trees Nor why the pain of loss dwells in my knee As if I cannot stand or wait alone Dark earth is softer than these paving stone
The trees you loved my neighbours see as weeds I shan’t recite a list of their misdeeds Others gossip of my coloured coats A widow’s weeds aren’t teal, they grin, they gloat Before you went I saw the cloth of gold Coming down from heaven to enfold Then it rose, its satin thick and pure Taking you away, yet life endures
The emptiness, the void, the loss, the paine The crash severe we know is for ordained
In the evening. simmering handkerchiefs
Perfumed the air with odours I can’t tell Mother scrubbed them, hung them on the line Then I had to iron them, folded well
Now we have our tissues, we don’t need
Hankies that need scrubbing many times The oceans deep are poisoned with our waste Is the use of tissues a new crime?
While we did our homework after tea
My brother liked his Wagner at full blast Imagine learning Latin with that din Now the time for anger has long passed
Bad memories change by newly given grace
Evoking hints of mother and her face
In this so called office,I am trapped
Trying hard to write and to adapt I have numerous pens in this my cell Reminding me of school, the longed for bell
Ten past four, we put on winter clothes
I crossed the Park in fog, it wet my nose Walking down our street I’d see the cat Sitting on the pavement, Ginger spat
I put the kettle on to make our tea
The coal glowed low and red like elves in glee The aluminium teapot never broke The kettle had turned black , the milk was smoked
I had that tiny piece from others free
That was when I learned that I am Me
In the birdbath filled by summer rain
I saw the baby wood pigeon again So safe the garden, birds became quite tame Secret,silent, sweet,no cats, it kept me sane The bird was washing,splashing all about With darted glances,so few I could count Then it flew up into a large tree Holly,maple, apple,I could see Though it’s winter, sunshine makes me dream Gazing through the window at this scene Sap is stirring,rising in soft light Making these bare branches a new sight
Love came down and lit up this,my heart
Then the grace of being made its start
How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose. Intricate the petals that should shield Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield. Appearances,both natural and contrived, Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive. As, knowing not, we pluck the apple rare And bite its flesh,with teeth we burn to bare. We too deceive the innocent who pass Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass. The windows break,the deep earth quakes; Seized is the maiden ,he her virtue takes .Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive. What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?
Lying in the heather with you,love
The world below,the cliff edge of the hills Swainby,Stokesley, Stockton,Saltburn sea Happy, free, still unaware of bills The butterflies, the little flower bells The scent of honey and the Yorkshire bees I see your face as clear as it was then But you have crossed the Styx and not the Tees Yet still I feel your arms that held me near I see you smile , so happy to be wed We hitched a lift right to Osmotherly The entire hill seemed like a marriage bed There is a place where that sweet day exists I take your hands and kiss your inner wrists
The future unpredictable as gas Its fictions must be written by our hands On tablets with the clarity of glass Which crack like bones dried out on foreign sands
The prophets’ meanings , unnnamed, cannot pass The sentences bind stories till they blend The whispers and the excess of his blasts Till all are crucified by loss of sense
The arches of the heavens will surpass The golden eye ,the mind its telescope Then all at once humanity is trash The microcosm, a particle escaped
Will Evil change our hearts till blood is brass The valves are closing, polished into death