Sad being old

Hello,hello¹she screams and shouts again

She wants the nurse to come she’s had bad dreams

She overdoes her calling makes them mad.

She wants to see her mother or her dad.

But now she’s 94 nobody’s left

She still looks from South to East to West.

Let’s go home she whispers to herself.

Oh,where is home when she has little wealth?

The husband’s dead her daughter sadly too.

T1he Carers have no time, what can she do ?

She thinks another lady fancies men

She envies her then envies her again

What about the man who barks and quacks?

What pointed grief what torture rushes back?

1

These modern lepers lack Lord Jesus touch

The old the blind the deaf no longer rich.

Dementia is an illness cruelly taxed.

They have to sell their houses that’s a fact.

If you’re ill where is the NHS?

Old and week be frightened, be my guest

Poppies

We have to be breathing right to hear
the silence from which all song arises;
we have to be breathing slow
and gently
We have to be breathing right to feel it,
the tenderness in which we are held by nature.
We have to be breathing quiet
and soft
and to be looking receptively,
No desire for objects

We have to be breathing right to recall it
the music we heard when there was silence.
We have to be being breathed
by the world
We have to be part of the whole..

and so,we forget it as we are pounded

with the noise of radios and traffic
and people talking loudly on cell phones
walking by the green fields and river
past the secret heron
and the coots nest
past the daisies

When I am dying I shall think,
Why was I not breathing right?
Why was I scarcely breathing?
Why did I forget those moments?
Why did I not live

more deeply?
Why did i not sing more sweetly?
Why did I nor love more dearly?
Why did i not listen more carefully?

Why did I not sing more sweetly?
why did I not see more completely?

Why don’t we talk more gently?
Why don’t we look more intently?

Why were the poppies growing so wildly?
Why were the battlefields growing nightly?
Why did we murder men so lightly?
Why did we not love more rightly?
Why are the poppies covering the soil so politely?
When did the young soldiers leave so frightfully?

Why are we not here more quietly?

Mary’s phone

Mary heard a very strange sound as she came down the polished stairs of her bijou home.It was a loud two part shriek.
I wonder if that’s the new answering machine, she thought as she went to put the kettle on to make a pint of tea.She heard it again,but it was not continuous
Well it’s not the carbon monoxide detector either,she told Emile who was eating a sardine.Then she remembered hearing it before.
It’s the old phone handset with a flat battery,se murmured as she washed her hair in the kitchen sink with some Persil Silk and Wool detergent.
Annie came to the door
What’s that beep ?she cried.And why are you washing your hair here?
See if you can spot the phone.I can’t find it,Mary told her.I wash my hair sometimes just to clear my brain
Well,why not keep some shampoo here or that new wash and condition in one go I have found the phone.

It was in the waste paper basket!But you can’t put it in the bin,can you?
No I will have to pay £20 for a cab to the recycling centre,Mary said philosophically.
I’d better not leave it “by accident” on a bench given the current climate of fear.
Well if we remove the batteries it won’t shriek any more,Annie told her kindly.
How is the new phone doing ? she rambled on unthinkingly
OK.It has a special button so you can block someone after you have picked it up.There is some much fear now about WITHELD NUMBERS.At one time we only knew after we picked it up.If I use my phablet my sister hates it..Mary disclosed

She refused to have more than 2 numbers for me so it comes up as UNKNOWN
What is a phablet? Annie enquired sardonically,her little soft eyes crinkling with laughter which showed off her turquoise eye shadow which is actually a pastel stick from her art box! No longer can she goes to Wigan for divine makeup
It’s just a small tablet but you can make phone calls with it.
I didn’t know you had one of those!
Neither did Stan,Mary said with a touch of sadness.I only wish we could phone heaven from earth.
Wow,said Annie.Maybe it would spoil heaven…
How true, her friend responded.Let’s hope they have some attitude that they makes them have a different point of view from us. Now,I’ll dry my hair and you can tell me why you came.
Oh,dear,said Annie.Let me drink some tea.I can’t remember except that your wisteria has climbed up the rowan tree.
Was it shopping? Was it Dave?Let’s ring 999 and see what he has to say.
We’re all gray here,no fuss
We’ll all go play with puss,Emile,come back and.

Will Annie ever save up enough money to take the train to Wigan to buy some Eva St Laurent lipstick? This is one of the mysteries of life on which there is no point in thinking

After all she could buy some lipstick in knittingham for less than the train  fare to Wigan!

But that’s too easy because don’t you realize that we enjoy things a lot more when we have had to go to trouble to acquire them? And Wigan is near Southport which is a seaside resort so maybe it’s that which attracts the women. Oh it’s a very superior place. The sea may no longer come to the promenade. Who is interested in that?

There is an artificial lake. Need I say more?

No and so say all of us.

The northern tongue

Outside wa house ‘t new umbrellas drip
~Wun is red and wun is pretty beige
They’re wa sunshades, t’weather’s hit a blip

If A wer a child A’d sail a ship
Or dash in pools u’ water in mi rage
Outside wa house ,’t new umbrellas drip ;

Times there were Mam’s moods would get a grip
Then it wer quite hard to re-engage
Hide wa sunshades, mother’s hit a blip

Mam we’ lovely but she lost her top
Seemed we ‘ad been reading ‘t naughty page
Outside wa house ,’t new umbrellas drip ;

Nuns told me off for speaking in my voice
To get to Cambridge I must Me erase
Now I is a foreigner down ‘ere
No Mam ,no evil nuns ,no wicked sneers.

The end is not night

Well if I get cancer and don’t live very long it will it will save me from much anxiety,

Will I go blind as I’ve already lost one eye? Don’t worry I didn’t lose it on a night out

Will I end up in a wheelchair in my arthritis gets worse?

Will I always have problems with food?

Will I forget how to write a villanelle?

At least when you get cancer you won’t be worrying about whether you will get cancer. But then I can always think of some other aspects of life to worry about like it comes to remission will it come back and after permission for another act.?

Emile and Mary’s leg

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As Mary ate her Weetabix, she felt a pain in her left leg rather like a toothache gone awol
Emile, what are you doing?
Emile crawled out looking dusty. And he had just had a bath.
I was trying to bite the hairs off your leg, he miaowed plaintively
There are no hairs on my leg, she whispered. Oh, dear,I must have walked into a cobweb
I wish Stan had got a cobweb brush, she muttered.
But do we really need a different brush for everything? Soon we will have one for each tooth. That will be expensive
She felt in her pocket for her Tablet. She wanted to draw a diagram of her brush cupboard using an Android App. But her pocket was empty
The back door opened and in ran Annie wearing a yellow nightdress and matching slippers
Hello, she cried. I wanted to catch you before 9 am
Why, asked Mary?
The postman will be here by then. He has got a parcel for me. But I put your address.
What is the point of secrecy when you live alone. You have no man to question your expenses, have you? Nor a woman either
Well, Emile might ask me to explain.
Just because Emile is male it does not give him the right to tell you what to do
All my life I have obeyed men, Annie cried
Yes, after you have manipulated, seduced and terrified them
That is very cruel. I was only trying to help them.
Well, you may have done, but why not help yourself?
How can I do that?
Tune into your body and see what comes to mind
Beetroot, Annie responded.
So you must need them, get dressed and we will go to the greengrocers
You have got very bossy, said Annie. Did you have a nightmare?
It was more like a night-tiger, Mary revealed. Something bit my foot and it hurt
Oh, mother , cried Emile, it was me!
You, Emile. What made you do that, she said angrily?
It was in my way as I crawled under the duvet, the cat whispered
Surely you could have gone further down.
I wanted to see what you tasted like!
That is evil, not to say perverted, Mary told him. I shall take you for therapy or would Confession be better? Is it a compulsion you cannot help or is it a sin?
Annie was silent. She did not like questions nor any kind of prolonged thought
Don’t ask me, she finally said. Maybe Emile needs a man in the house.
I don’t want any more men, Mary said sadly. They seem to die
Well, Stan was 128 years old. Annie informed her.I saw his birth certificate once. Unless it was 12.8 years
Don’t be so ridiculous. How could he have been 12.8 years old?
It must be a miracle, said Annie. Tell the Pope and he might be declared a saint soon
St Stan of Knittingham, Patron Saint of Almost Adolescents.
The bell rang. In ran Dave.
He was dressed in navy.
I am ready to take you to Church, he told the ladies
To church? I’d rather go to Wigan Pier
Oh, the sea is not there on Sundays!
Is it there on the Sabbath, Annie muttered?
No, it’s not, Dave said quietly
Wow, two more miracles, she said as she fainted into the Pantry
How annoying, Mary said. I just classified the jam
Well, things could be worse, said Dave. She’s not broken any and cut herself
What, she falls and breaks nothing. She must be very light.
Yes, she nearly is electric, he quipped
Whatever next?

And so say all of us

I dream of pearls

Inside my mind I dream of pearls

Caterpillars,snails with whorls.

Inside my mind I dream of pearls,
Caterpillars,snails with whorls.
I dream contented, all enwrapped;
With reverie and dream I’m lapped.
The inner seas will comfort me,
While gods open my eyes to see

Oh,sweeter than confectionery
Is my Oxford diction’ry.
The words whirl round then fall to shape
The sentences which my world make.
This furnishing is rich and strange
And magically self arranged.

Oh,sweeter than the love of man
Is reading works of poets long gone;
Feeling deeply their dark tides .
Upon which our boat may glide.
The sea infinite we float upon
Is the same warm sea the ancients swam..

Sweeter still is the spring air
And the blossom spreading fair.
We’ll drown our selves in grassy fields
To the gods of poetry yield.
We’ll rise again and spring up tall
To grow more rich until we fall

À

Internal weather

In. England bitter, wild winds blow  and grow
The blossom’s  thrashed, knocked off the  living stem
As if for a new catastrophe we’re due.

This week, this world, imagine what we know
As Terror and Election come again
On England frail with fighting what to do?

The little nesting birds sway in their tree
Summer  is suspended, voters  groan
As if for fresh catastrophe we’re due.

The common people quarrel violently
An abscess bursts and then hot  poison rains
On England now the wild wind snarls anew.

The cold contempt   divides us into two
The only good is that we can’t buy guns
When for a new catastrophe we’re due.

Saturday, the News struck Britain dumb
The blood  and guts of sacrificial victims ran
The death of God calls forth barbaric brews
Can we change, embrace a better view?

Never finish a sentence….

Never finish a sentence without ending it
Never write too clearly to a man.
Never begin a sentence without a word
Never end one with but.
Never free associate in writing nor in speech
Never take a horse to bed.
Never mention Adam Phillips unless in the LRB
Never be over-cautious.
Never end a word with a letter.
Never give your name to the paper
Never fall in love with a duck.
Never pass water.Have a drink.
Take a random sample of your dreams to a psychoanalyst
Never cut your own hair while typing on it
Never believe anything you read in bed

Patient silence

The cause of sadness also shows its end;

That we let go the loved one and remain.

Such comfort,aid and love we have from friends

Helps us bear the heart’s most dangerous pain.

But if our friends fear their own hidden grief.

If sorrow is never let to touch their heart;

Then friendship’s stolen by a nervous thief;

As wishing to retain our self,we part.

The friends who sit in silent company

Who look for no reward yet love us true

Who show, quite clear, desireless empathy;

They are friends who warmth and hope imbue.

Patient silence may do more than words

The utterance of the heart is not absurd.

You’ll have to laugh or else you’ll cry

I saw this painting at the art exhibition and I told him it resembled a strangulated Turner.

She said that my financial affairs were calculated to harm her

She was a lapsed Catholic with a prolapsed womb and so would you if you didn’t use contraception can you be a prolapsed Catholic!

Isn’t it strange that many fully qualified doctors are nervous of doing surgery etc and yet someone pretending to be a doctor with no qualifications and very little experience carries out many operations on the NHS before it’s discovered that this person is a rogue?

Forgot to put an appendix to my thesis and now I’ve got appendicitis instead of my degree

But they told me my thesis was much too long. I can’t seem to win really. Thank goodness Dirac is dead. Is that blasphemy?

They were impressed with the breadth of my knowledge but not with what I had written down I don’t understand it. I copied it straight from the book. I haven’t written about myself but I had read it. It was published by a reputable company. The book has those topics in it. And no other book does at least in English why should I have to translate it from another language because I speak English see you will have to speak it it lol

I never realised it myself 2 later the God just wanted to spend three more years at university. Since dwells in my unconscious mind he had to move me to Oxford.

Killed my supervisor so I couldn’t stay where I was. Mysterious ways indeed. I had always wanted to ride a second-hand bicycle so that meant it was either Oxford or Cambridge. Is Norwich flat I could have gone there. Still I’m nearly 90 years old now so maybe I can move on after brooding for 70 years.

I’ll buy a car and then I can go to any University at all the morphology of the area will not matter in the long run. I just want to graduate before I die.

deemed bad

Bleed and clutter

They have no petrol heating but they find the emotion heater very useful.

She said that she’s got a gas cooker but who eats gas?

She has drawers in her freezer and freezing are her drawers.

I prefer to wash up using the sink It was very hard getting into the dishwasher every night. And pretty hard to get out again

Waiting for the bread to rise was almost as difficult as waiting for my son to rise from the bed.

The biggest disappointment of my life was seeing the sea of Galilee.And the second one was the Dead Sea. I just couldn’t stop floating about.

I have no sense of sense of surplus In my everyday life. I am surplus myself so I think when I’m depressed.

Christianity is a very biological religion. The keep mentioning Christ’s body. What about hims soul I’d like to ask them. There’s something violent about it in my opinion. Life and death body and blood good and evil tennis and cricket football and rugby

Legs and arms

breed and stutter

Until in the final paralysis all is made one and one is all and that is how It Will be forever and ever on ever amen.

As unknown as the journey to your birth

Was this the apple then, your mother’s breast
Which father thought was his to oft caress?
And when, in deprived rage, you bit to test
In rage, he vowed to ever you harass.

So then you learned that you could hate as well,
The punishment struck hard in your small heart.
Your memory was unworded, could not tell;
Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart.

As unknown as the journey to your birth
As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong.
As frightening as the gauging of your worth
As sudden as the ending of a song.

Impossible to foretell or to prepare,
The ambivalence of our hearts can start just here.

The memory of the sea

The holiday we never had again

In Weybourne, we were happy at the dawn

We saw the sun ascend in tongues of fire

I saw the place where images are formed

From the door we looked straight to the North

The Wash lay to the left,a land of seals.

The high tide carries sand from Yorkshire shores.

Blakeney church now stands up well inland

We had not seen that vision pure before

Driving back through Walsingham,I sang

I learned my own heart from these little ears

There is no need for headphones nor the smart

Let your intuition help you when you steer.

I remember everything you said

Now I am alone in my new bed

Please relieve me

Please do not eat your own words at the table
My eyes rolled like marbles in the gutter but how could I see?
She was full of smart bones and loose joints but it was a bad idea to give her
a date or ten
The doctor seemed to put blue rubbers into my ear but they were a thermometer
Since I was the only patient, I could not mate in the hospital
Her eyes nearly came out of the bed
Her eyes were like sharks teeth
She muffled her cheeks in wool
I did not suffer from my hallucinations.I found them very moving
We used to meet at dawn or 8 am whichever was later
I do wish he’d put his clock back.
He swallowed my words.
My voice was strangled
He stole my vice and was transformed into electricity
My eyes were so big he fell in
Then we all fell out

O

A piece of wood

The little laptop is our Bible now

The scriptures are our blogs,the forums too.

The inquisition haunts on left and right.

Lord have mercy, give none second sight

Books are banned and messages retrieved

The neo nazis shout, the woke perceive

Banks are told,they must support free speech.

Nigel Garage bathesvon Dover beach

Hitler wants a blackboard,he will write

To all the world, as Satan’s taken fright.

The king has got a pay rise auntie’s billed

Satan strives once mote, the sin is will.

The academics writing books are sad

The students cannot read, the church is glad.

Can you trust your neighbours to be good?

Here is Jesus with a piece of wood

I pushed  my sisters up our quiet street

I remember riding on his back
It was summer; I was only two
He had an old tweed jacket full of smoke
Woodbines, they would probably kill you too

Walking with my sister in her pram
Mam looked as happy as a summer lark
My brothers were pretending to be soldiers
We walked along, right into the deep dark

A few years later Dad was sat there crying
They never told me he was very bad
Eight years old, I pushed the baby
My sister walked while clutching at my side

I was worried Grandad would be angry
Seeing us three coming up the lane
We usually went there only at the weekend
On, on, on, went my brain

Going back home it was the evening
The sun had gone ,time to go to bed
I pushed my little sisters up our street
Auntie told me Daddy was now dead

No more rides on his thin shoulder
No more walking in the flowery park
Only the anguish of our feelings
Only children weeping in the dark

You left at the promise

When I was 28 my husband bought me a tin of lavender wax polish for my birthday.I do love lavender
After 45 years of marriage I found he liked me mainly because of my beauty. Of course I’d never really thought I was beautiful


When I was recovering from a serious operation ,he said,
You are not very house proud, are you? I could hardly walk
When he was near death he slept a lot in an armchair by my side.One afternoon he woke up and said in a very loud voice:
You’ve got a brilliant personality.
Then he went to sleep again.
When we were first married we were out in the country.We were in a lane with steep grassy banks so we lay down at the top and rolled down!
He rarely noticed if I went to the hairdresser until I had my hair cut very very short.He was annoyed because when it was long he liked to brush it in the evening.He could have tickled me with a feather duster instead but he refused.I didn’t have a feather duster but I am sure I could have bought one.
He used to bring me a cup of tea in bed until he could hardly walk.
After I had an eye operation I had no glasses for 6 months and for 3 months I had gas in my right eye so it was blind.We were in the car, approaching a junction and he said,Which way do I turn? I said,talk about the blind leading the blind
Just after that a friend rang up and said she was very upset she had to wear glasses.How horrible .I couldn’t see. even with glasses.It made me learn how self centered we are

The grief of infants

Afghanistan, Iraq,Iran
Can “Democracy” be “forced” on them
Somalia,Yemen,Pakistan

The war on “others”, rights of Man
The grief of infants, war goes on
Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran

Made in Britain, torture ,gun
Electric, fearsome,profit, spin
Somalia,Libya,Pakistan

Europe, Jesus ,Vatican
Where does Revolution win?
Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran

Egypt,Palestine,Jordan
Old Man River,death and Sin
Libya,Yemen,Pakistan

From five or six or maybe ten
The Arts of War, the nuclear ban
Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran
Somalia,Yemen,Pakistan