In the winter, comes a day of spring
The wind brings softness to the upturned face
And warmth to once cold bodies seems to cling
When will be the day the first bird sings
And hawthorn hedges fill with sweet white lace?
In the winter, comes a day of spring
A little heat is welcome ,promising
That winter darkness soon will lose first place
And warmth to once cold bodies, sunshine brings
We struggle on like donkeys stumbling
With heavy burdens and no hint of grace
In the winter, comes a day of spring
So we lift our eyes, allow wide opening
And in the lines of hills, our love is traced
Giving hope to our cold hearts and skins
We take our time and feel no need for haste
And so create an opening for grace
In the winter, came a day of spring
And sun on our cold bodies made them sing
Stan was leaning over, cleaning the new bath.When the doorbell rang,he rushed downstairs and opened the double front door.
“Will you take this parcel in for the lady next door?” The postman asked wearily.
“Oh,fine Stan stuttered.He was trying to avoid Annie but here she was,coming down the road of superior semi detached houses suitable for ex-headmasters ,small businessmen,econometricians,surgeons,pie salesmen and theologians.
She was wearing perfume, and green sandals from TK Maxx,light khaki tencel cropped combat trousers with a purple silky over-blouse, not to mention her matching raspberry and cream underwear .Round her neck hung a miniature grandfather clock on a solid gold chain,and she had three imitation gold and silver watches on each of her three wrists making a total of 333 watches according to Carnap’s theory of logic and Russell’s terrible handwriting.
Stanley didn’t know that she had a mobile phone stuffed into her bra—one advantage for the larger sized woman.In fact she had 4 down there in her raspberry coloured glamour bra,as she had a phobia about their batteries running down all at once
The more she had the lower the probability of her being without a phone whilst out and about the town and countryside.
So she reasoned in her womanly way. J
ust then one phone rang.She rummaged around to the consternation and turmoil-uation of Stanley and the postman.She plucked out a pale blue phone.
“Hi,it’s Annie” she murmured.
“Hi Annie it’s Dave the paramedic with carpentry skills. You’ve not rung 999 lately so we were wondering if all was well!”
“Oh,I’m terribly sorry.I’ll try to phone later on.Thanks,Petal.
That was Dave,our ex-transvestite converted paramedic”,she informed the men.The postman galloped off on his donkey, his bags full of undelivered males.
It’s a tough but interesting life in Knittingham. Would you like a male delivery?Contact Parcel Force without delay.
Annie went into Stan’s house and demanded a cup of coffee.
“Won’t it make you put weight on” Stan quipped ironically.
“Do you think I’m too plump?” she responded anxiously..
“Too plump for what?” he quipped amiably.
“To attract men,of course!”
“No,my angel,you are just perfect”he quacked definitively.”Nor are you an angel,strictly speaking,as I have good reason to know.Thank you,my beloved for love rendered so generously .”
“Oh,my goodness I must get home to render the fat from the beef and to make some gooseberry jam.”
Stanley looked uneasy.
“I wonder why babies are left under gooseberry bushes?
The thorns are so big it’s quite dangerous getting them out,or so Mary told me when Lyra was born. She was covered in scratches and wouldn’t come near me for months.”
“Why don’t you come upstairs to look at our new purple bathroom suite.Since the Royal Wedding it’s the in colour.The gold taps were expensive but they do go well.”
“My God,let me out.” she bawled,”It reminds me of the Vatican and that’s no place for a lady”,
“Not even a gay lady?” Stan muttered parsimoniously, as he licked her eyelashes gently.
“Stop that.I’ve got my Yves St Laurent mascara on.”
“I prefer the taste of the Chanel,”he disclosed privately in an internal secret memo.[available on 50 years]
“Why not lick my neck instead?” she enquired curiously as she tripped over Emile the cat, who had slipped into the bathroom as usual to see what they were up to,you know what I mean, you catch my drift?
She fell floppily into the bath and banged her head on the taps.
“Oh,gosh,better ring 999” Stan said to Emile.
“Have you got your catphone warehouse mobile on you?”
“Yes ,it’s in my y-fronts”, the cat amiably miaowed.
“Hi Dave,this is Emile.Can you come quick.Annie is unconscious and what is worse,she has scratched the new bath.”
In fact it was Emile who had scratched the bath that morning but since Stan had not noticed he hoped to, callously, pass the blame onto poor Annie.
How cruel can a cat be? Ask any mouse! Still in the end God made all of us and what a terrifying and beautiful world it is.
And of so say all of us
I have walked the silent paths of grief Sunless,dreary,cold and all alone.
I have slept on beds of winter leaves.
I know that death’s a cruelly starving thief
Although my heart weeps and my joy has gone. I have never felt I was deceived.
I have learned that human life is brief. I have learned by sorrow we’re undone. I have sifted earth and what’s beneath.
I have felt the dark emotions seethe I’ve felt cruelly burned by glaring sun. I have learned the geography of grief.
I wait in sorrow for this life to cease Yet some are never loved by anyone I have dreamed in beds of winter leaves
Unconsoled grief can make us dumb Into our hearts, we drag the ice that numbs I have walked the silent paths of grief I have made my bed on winter leaves
The faculty to think objectively is reason; the emotional attitude behind reason is that of humility. To be objective, to use one’s reason, is possible only if one has achieved an attitude of humility, if one has emerged from the dreams of omniscience and omnipotence which one has as a child. Love, being dependent on the relative absence of narcissism, requires the development of humility, objectivity and reason. I must try to see the difference between my picture of a person and his behavior, as it is narcissistically distorted, and the person’s reality as it exists regardless of my interests, needs and fears.”
The gravity of loss brought me to earth
Beneath the rotting leaves, I lay with worms.
I wondered if I were of any worth
No more to be enchanted by love’s mirth,
I with unnamed particles was turned.
The weight of loss bears down the heart to earth.
The weight of love has readied us for birth
The fragments moulded with the love that burns.
I learned we need not wonder over worth
My sorrow brought no guilt nor fear of wrath
I am both sharp eyed eagle ,twisted worm.
In my little grave, I loved the earth.
Like the adder, shocked into rebirth.
I from silent underworld had learned
Not to judge my soul nor think of worth.
I shall not fear the flames of hell that burn.
When blackness is accepted, may one learn?
The weight of loss breaks down the soul to earth
With dusty shredded leaves, we then converse
Drowned by words whose owner could not speak Disordered and untimely they came down Her mind had lost its senses, its critiques
She did not wish to see a world so bleak She lay there like a fox on bloody ground Crowded by the slobbering hounds she shrieked
I asked if Su Doku would bring her peace She beat me with a heavy pan all round Her mind had lost its pity in her grief
I begged her use a hammer,kill or tease She cried out, oh, my wi fi has gone down She drowned in mobile phones which could not speak
She begged me to cook dumplings with the beef Atora still make suet, it’s renowned, Her mind had lost its legacies, its reach
I bought a bunch of roses from a clown The thorns a sharp reminder of her nouns Spared the words this woman could not speak Our silence gave me comfort, yet I weep
Mary had heard a noise by the front door but when she got there she couldn’t see anyone at all.
Suddenly Emile bit her on the ankle. Fortunately his teeth were not very sharp
What has made you so exquisitely charming today, she enquired in a rather sarcastic manner?
Well you are not usually sarcastic, mother. I was shocked.
I’m just practicing being passive aggressive, Mary informed him excitedly.
There’s a book out by Martin Kantor all about it.
Why read a book about passive aggression when you could read a novel by Howard Jacobson?
Now, Emile you are a cat are you telling me that you read novels in your spare time?
Yes I do because Stan taught me to read but maybe you have forgotten about that.
No I have not forgotten it just slipped my memory for a moment. Yes Stan was a big help
He wanted to prove that cats were equally intelligent to human beings but because of their different bodies and they have to use their intelligence in a different way.
Is there some reason why you are studying psychology or it just a way of passing the time,mother?
I’ve got many ways of passing the time such as knitting, cooking, reading the life of Bertrand Russell etc. also I could play the piano if I bought a piano But sometimes it’s nice to interact with another being even if it’s only your cat.
That’s very hurtful to put in cats into a category inferior to human beings.
I know perfectly well cats are not inferior in a general sense but perhaps cats that live in houses where human beings dwell might be thought of as inferior because they don’t earn money.
But then children don’t normally earn money in this country and in particular babies don’t earn anything at all and yet they are extremely demanding.
Do you think that every relationship is transactional?
No of course I don’t but a lot of people in our society do, not to mention people in the United States such as Sebald Lumpe.
Well it’s very kind if you just speak to me.; we have decided to go outside and play in the garden.
The doctor says I’ve got a lot of stones in both of my kidneys
Well they’ll just have to take your kidneys out completely m
Can they put them back in again after they’ve been cleaned ?
Well it’s just like having a kidney transplant except it’s your own kidneys being put back if they can do that then surelythey can put back your own kidneys
Well thank you very much. How do they fasten them in? Do they use glue?
Don’t ask me. I’m not a doctor
I think I’ll maybe go private. They probably have better glue.
Mary looked at herself in the webcam.She was looking very beautiful as she had washed her pale gold hair and applied some scented oils to it and though she was normally not interested in peering into mirrors she was intrigued by the Webcam. She was feeling happy as she had just removed Superfish from Stan’s laptop though she wondered whay else might lurk there…Supershark?
Emile her cat had been waiting ever since he heard her say I am getting the superfish out today,
Stan,dearvwe can have Onion Tart for lunch.
I shall wait for the super fish,thought Emile excitedly.
I can just imagine what it will taste like… wonderful. Meanwhile Mary who had never been bold enough to act at school was discovering her potential on mini videos one of which was going to be on Twister soon. asking people to vote for Lalbour despite Milibland’s adenoids……
But though she seemed bold as she spoke out,it was not her native temperament but a kind of madness that had come over her.Polemical Poison,one might say.
Shall we have tomato salad,asked Stan her strange but charming husband as they had a bag of cherry tomatoes on the table.
Mary did not answer because after making her video she realised her face was lopsided.
How horrible,she thought.No wonder it’s evil to look in mirrors too much as it makes one self conscious which is painful.To forget one’s self is the best way to live if you can achieve it without taking heroin or laughing gas.Gas never made her laugh at the dentist nor with him neither. and heroin was never offered to her To forget one’sself take up rock climbing or knitting or both at once.. that will distract you from your self esteem and other silly notions….after all.does God look into a mirror?
Why did Lenovo computers often have this superficial malware seven years ago? I have not heard it mentioned recently
Some insects have consciousness and they can care for injured members of their family. They probably havs feelings. I’m not sure what it would mean to say, can they think?
One thing we do not share with them is that we have money.
That is the source of a lot of our problems such as income tax and other taxes which were only invented once we stopped wandering around the forest eating berries and killing wild pigs.
Sometimes I wonder what it’s such a great idea to give up being nomads?
Certainly many people hate any kind of tax. They also seem to hate helping other human beings even the ones living near them.
I think it’s true that the poor give more money to charity proportionately than the wealthy do.
It seems like nuclear power that many human inventions and discoverers can be used for good or evil. Sadly at the moment things seem more negative than they have been.
Weaknesses expose some people to commit crimes or also commit sins in the old-fashioned terminology.
Where is the wisdom that we should have for so many hundreds of years of so-called civilization?
Archimedes’ pocket calculator in working order but without the pocket. Cleopatra’s nightdress fm [washed and ironed] Aristotle’s chair with footstool and TV remote Abraham’s hat [unworn] Isaac’s laughter [ CD] Euclid’s ruler [plastic] Zeno’s hair [combed] Ten live Greek tortoises with name tags. Book of Numbers [ In Hebrew] Fifty limericks and Wordsworth’s hair [1 only
Job’s watch (automatic)
Isaac’s belt
Eve’s best apron
Eve’s halogen hob (new,other)
Job’s hanky.
Adam’s apple
Recipes from the Bible.
Jezebel’s handbag (goatskin) . Nearly new in good condition apart from scratches from her nails.
King David’s piano plus keys. Sorry no music as scroll unrolled
I went into a coffee bar and asked for a black coffee.They said I was a racist
They said I was stupid for wanting an irrational number of cakes.
I went to Burnt Oak to register my husband’s death.
Then they had the nerve to ask if I wanted him buried or cremated.
I went to the hospital for an X-ray.They said I didn’t look as if I was 18,I should bring my mother.
So I said, with or without the coffin
I wanted a Burning Bush at the funeral but God said he don’t come here anymore.
I offered a lamb chop up as a sacrifice.God said, I may be dead but I’ve not shrunk.
I asked for a toasted beef sandwich but they said it takes too long to toast beef
We went into a car park but it had very few amusements and no grass.No cars either.
We opened the car door with a coat hanger once when we lost the keys.Now with this electronic system, what could we use instead?
I rang my own doorbell last night as I felt so lonesome.Then it fell off the door.So I told myself it was lucky I had come by as I knew how to fix it.It’s just glued on like ethics are on politicians.
I saw a spider in the bath so I told it, it can only have 2 baths a week.
My neighbour gave me a blank look.So I filled it with laughter,
Confronting and coping with uncharted terrains through poetry.
By The EditorsShareCourtesy of Preconscious Eye via Flickr
When major parts of our lives seem to change in a flash, we are reminded that poetry can help us to cope with new realities and assess the unknowns ahead. When we are stepping out into uncharted terrain, alone or together, poetry can capture our emotions. It can share our vulnerabilities and scars, along with our strengths.
Poets are seekers and questioners. 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
“A new study published in the journal Science looked at results from 11 different experiments involving over 700 subjects and found that the majority of participants reported that it was “unpleasant” to be alone in a room with their thoughts for as few as six minutes. The researchers discovered that most people would rather administer painful electric shocks to themselves than be left alone with their thoughts. This effect was particularly strong for men, who overwhelmingly preferred the shock (64 percent of male participants as compared to 15 percent of female participants).
On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-other wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs he had bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself. Now what will I wear.Stan thought over-anxiously.. People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense. The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few coloured shirts and one light teal colored jacket. He chose a coral coloured shirt and looked in the mirror.. I look wonderful, he thought very humbly. Why has God kept me so youthful? Surely not so I can seduce more women? We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us. More haste,less speed,he conjectured. Or is it, More paste,guests feed? He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush He looked again at his image. His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter. His dark hair looked very full for his age. His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner, Jacob Weissmann. And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown. His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham. As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo! Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely. I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long, If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop. Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.At least I don’t wear make up! Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume? Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.More taste less greed. What does that mean?asked Stan. If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less. Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop. No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered. I want to go high,high. I want to reach the sky. what will I do when my love is away Will I be happy on my own? Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song I’ll try not to sing out of tune! My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you? I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast. Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready At the bus stop there stood Anne their neighbour. Hi,Stan,where are you going. I’m buying sewing needles for Mary. I can lend her some,she shrieked. Well,she has to use special ones nowadays. Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?. Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal. Who is normal? Let’s just assume we will recognize it when we see it,he whispered warningly. This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt. I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone? Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them. Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis, Anne shouted in a fury. No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded. Very true,she replied, As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it. This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse? A goat would be o.k.Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung.. Over the page to Fly.Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick uncannily.Where she bought it was a mystery. At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out, You both look very merry! Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warningly. Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated. Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe? Why? she murmured. I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully. Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested. Your wish is my command he muttered, I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s one elsewhere. He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again. Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus. As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back But we want to go into town,every one howled. There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver. Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here. Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver. He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss. Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress. Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth? I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time. Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea. Hello! said Mary. Did you get my needles,Stan? I’m so sorry,Mary.I ‘ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town. And where is my supper. In the womb of time I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast. But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well. So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were weary and soon ,despite the tea, they were all fast asleep. Like you.
How my heart speaks 