I went to vote, the queue ran down the street
Strange to see the British change their ways
None were holding phones nor were there bleeps
Eager faces, animation sweet
Well as it’s free we do not have to pay
I went to vote, the queue ran down the street
The staff were kind, the voters were no sheep
They did not need a shepherd for this Play
None were holding phones nor were there bleeps
The politicians crippled by conceit
Put fake websites on the net today
I went to vote, the queue ran up the street
I am curious but I feel alright
The stupidity of gossip is made clear
No-one made a video of my seat
I did not queue, a cripple may shed tears
All I have is sight loss and red ears

I went to vote, the queue stood with no light
Smiling, patient people black and white

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | Year Posted 2020

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Posted on September 25, 2013

Poetry can be just clever playing with words.. or not so clever!
But true poetry stems from  living and feeling then writing with feeling
Feeling itself is not enough for poetry.
The poet needs to transmute the feeling, using their craft into something that contains and retains the feelings and passes the result on to readers.
Being able to play with words is useful, but not sufficient.Maybe that has to be impregnated with feeling?

---

Gently dancing in the sun
Wildflowers grow; they bloom, are gone.
With no thoughts,they have no cares;
Yet their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.
So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours…
And of us nothing shall endure.
As to the earth our bodies go, All are one;it shall be so

Waxy flowers poking through
Snow so white
Flowers bright.
Made me think of you.

I see once more your dark,dark hair,
Soft as snow,
On pillow.
Now my bed is bleak and bare

Face alight,flower to sun,
I loved you.
Love so true.
Fear by love,overcome.

Cyclamen in the snow,
Pink and red,
Now frozen,dead.
Love was,oh,so long ago.

But never gone from in my mind.
Thoughts so deep,
Upwards seep.
Love was gentle,love was kind,
You’re always in my mind

https://poets.org/poem/charge-light-brigade

“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Some one had blunder’d:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Utter stupidity but it goes on still.Our lives are not valued by our leaders

I am worried that I might go blind.One eye is.Will the other last?
Thinking positively,I may get run over and die while I can still see so that’s good
I might have a major heart attack at any moment.It won’t matter then
I might get cancer in a worse place.Then it will be a race between that and the eye
I’d better get married asap so I can enjoy some company while I can still see their face
On the other hand, perhaps better not see a face full of anxiety and wrinkles
Re my eye: it looks lovely.I think so.
There are degrees of blindness.
Do you know some people go blind on purpose just to get
the disability £70 a week.
Some people do anything for money & I don’t mean sex
They will break their legs, arms, fall under buses and trains
They will stab themselves while carving meat
Sylvia Plath wrote a poem about cutting the top off her thumb
She got no benefits as she gassed herself too soon to apply
However her heirs got a lot of money from her poetry
People seem surprised when someone kills themself
In this cruel world, I am more surprised that most people don’t

Some people won’t eat.They get thinner and thinner.Why, some people get cancer just to lose weight
That shows the horror of being fat
Anxious people can’t eat.We should let them have a bottle.Free!
When your husband dies, all the houses seem to lean over as if all the world is going to collapse
The sky is held up by pillars which can bend or break.
The sky itself might fall down.And the stars will gleam in your hair as you lie down in the grass
Security is not constant.
Why do some people help the oppressed while the people doing the oppressing don’t care
They might enjoy it.
I think the Nazis did.

Katherineethics, poetry, reflections, Thinkings and poems  December 13, 2019 1 Minute

Boris Johnson  thrown out by his wife
Now he has a different tole in life
He has a  girlfriend will he have more kids?
Lucian Freud was  surely up for this
They say he might have had perhaps  thirty   two
With all that sperm what is a man to do?
He could take Precautions as they say
I  prefer icecream  but let’s go  stray
Lucian Freud  was not a man to  rule
They say he once burned down his own Art School
He married once, he married twice but no
He would not be captured  in Soho
Beautiful and strange he made his mark
Boris Johnson   has a  nuclear heart
Winter will come down upon us all
Europe we are sad, almost appalled
Sadness for the surgeon who cured me
The cancer  grew  like rampant lush ivy
He is Greek and no-one else was skilled
To leave me looking   better  than God willed
Will he  go back   to where  his grandad  came?
Say a little prayer for my dear face
I don’t want  to suffer but  all will
We’ll die sooner,  sadly Boris kills
The NHS is  going slowly  to its grave
Watched by men who  look  without a face

“The curse of man, and the cause of nearly all his woe, is his stupendous capacity for believing the incredible.” ― H. L. Mencken

As in “Brexit will make Britain great again
And Boris Johnson is like Churchill.



Well the latter liked a siesta
Johnson likes women but will he have the energy?

I feel that this is rather like what I called the Art of Doing Nothing
Because it involves no will power;because while it may lead to
productive work in writing or the arts yet cannot be effortful [ that’s how our Imagination works]
We are communicating with the depths of our soul & also of Nature
Even in the Sciences I feel it plays a part.Andrew Wiles found t the solutionto a very hard maths problem when he left his desk and went down a country lane
Of course Wiles needed to spend years learning mathematics before this otherwisehe could not had the tools to use to take advantage of his inspiration
We spent much time at school learning maths>Unfortunately few of us reach the creative level
We are learning “things that come in useful later on”
Alas for most, “later on” is still in the far distance.
Might it be better to fill children’s minds with common sense
curiousity,joy in Nature and in company?
As long as one has the basic skills, the rest should be an awakening of the mind and heart
In present day culture this sounds outlandish.
But what is life without it?

Do you believe in abortion?
I am sorry, I don’t even believe in God

Are you a vegetarian?
I’ll bring my own meat with me.I can bring a joint

Do you believe in women’s right to choose?
I have fifty pairs.

Do you think a wife should obey the husband?
As long as she chose the right one.

Do you like fifty shades of grey?
No, but I can’t afford a cleaner and I am arthritic

Could you write a novel?
No, only a meta-novel

Did you vote Labour
Yes,I can’t see how a lapsed Catholic could do otherwise

If someone  drops you a hint, never try to sweep it under the carpet
If they drop a clanger, ask what the weather forecast is  to help them recover their cool
If someone drops  you right into it, bury your head in the sands
I asked what postmodernism was and they dropped me from the Committee
I went red as my knickers dropped off in Church, Can I askfor a refund or replacement
I’m sorry I dropped off while you weren’t here for tea.Do “not come again” next week
I once dropped a baked ham and we had no carpet!
My hair was set on fire when a flame leaped out of the oven.I dropped my pretensions and called
for help using all the swear words you never see in a dictionary.To no avail.
Then I had to confess.I was born on the wrong side of the bed
Why have they dropped common sense from the curriculum.Oh, it was never in it.Say no more

Do you come here often?
Only when it’s not in my own house.
How often is that?
Five times a week.
Oh,you’re in therapy?
Aren’t you?
No,I’m the therapist!
I don’t recognize your face!
Well..I’m always crouching behind the sofa.
Oh,yes,so you are.Why is that?
It’s my training.We have to hover evenly.
When I finish my therapy,shall I be able to hover too?
Not necessarily,but you’ll be able to hoover.
But it could be years.
I know.It’s tough.
But my wife has asthma.
Does she want therapy?
No,she just needs the house hoovering daily.
Well,it will take time but we’ll get there.
I have an idea!
What is it?
I could lie on the sofa and you could pop into my house and hoover it!
Oh,no.I don’t think so!
But you can do an awful lot in fifty minutes.
But I don’t know how to use a hoover!
Well,why not enter into further therapy to overcome your disability?
I don’t think my wife would like it.
Why not?
I always get a very strong transference.
Have therapy with a hoover.The transference could be useful.You could earn more money cleaning!
Mm.Excuse me I think I can see a vacuum over by the door.See you tomorrow.Well,you won’t see me but you’ll hear me.
That’s a little unfriendly.
Well.nature abhors a vacuum.
I quite like them.I’m a vacuum flask salesman.
Really?Ten years in therapy and it never came up.
Well,I’m still enmeshed with my mother.
She’ll leave a vacuum when her image goes.
True enough.
Don’t be too hasty to fill it.
Why not?.
Wait to see how your unconscious feels.
That will be hard to tell as it’s unconscious!
Unconscious,subconscious,conscientious.
Am I too un-conscientious?
No,you are very scrupulous.
That’s a relief!
Why?
Only the best people get scruples.
How do you know that?
My unconscious tells me!

Emile woke  Mary up at 7am.It was a  Sunday in  late October, grey and damp though the sun was still not  too low in the sky
Go away, she told him.The clock has changed.It’s not 8 am yet.I have to wash my hair as well.Get the Observer out of the basket for me,please.
I can’t read. the dear animal replied.And why don’t you rebel and stick to Summer Time?
I know Stan wanted to send you to Eton but we couldn’t afford it.Yet you understand days and calenders, Mary joked  sorrowfully
She got up and found her fleece dressing gown; it was   conker brown covered in coloured spots.She went downstairs and gave Emile a Whitby kipper.Then she made some tea and took it upstairs so she could drink it while she came round from her dreams
Suddenly Annie ran into   her bedroom wearing a  long black vinyl coat and  red knee-high boots
You never locked the back door, she howled like a lost  leopard which has had no  food for weeks
I don’t suppose anyone wants my old TV as it is only 19 inches.And my Chromebook is not something worth re-selling.I do have a new coat.
How about Ray Monk’s life of Wittgenstein, Annie asked her defiantly, her apricot lips pouting childishly as the Riemann of Paris lipstick glittered uncannily like an imaginary number in a dream of Godel.
The people who might enjoy reading it are by virtue of that , not the sort to steal or buy it on the black market.
That is very racist, Annie told her.You should say:the beige market!
Then nobody would know what I meant, Mary said lovingly
Anyway, do you want to come to Marks with me? They have some beautiful coats in
I’d like a pink wool coat, said Mary thoughtfully
Quite right  ,said Annie.Bring back feminine colours
Actually, gay men might like pink coats, she continued.But if they go on the bus they might get dirty.Come to think of it, so will women’s coats
They will have to buy pink puffa jackets and we can wash them at 30 deg.Mary whispered
Using a special detergent, Annie asked?
I have never seen a detergent for washing gay men.I don’t think they will fit into the washing machine.On the other hand, you are small so you will fit in
Shall I get undressed first, Annie asked furtively.
Yes, I’ll try to put you on a  short wash for 15 minutes but it is your choice.Maybe a bath would be safer?
No problem, said Annie intellectually.Are you having one with me?
You’d better be careful, Mary ad-libbed.It might be sexual harassment.
Well, I am not gay , said Annie.
You never know till you try, Mary giggled ,like a child behind the school canteen
Why, we might become gender fluid and then who knows?
And so say all of us
Miaow

Someone round the corner broke her leg.She was washing her foot in the sink
Why not put some washing up liquid on your foot then put it in the toilet and flush?
It won’t suck your whole body down… so they tell me

If you get up in the night,make sure you are going the right way.
I was trying to get into the wardrobe at 3 am .Maybe we need enlightening?

If you are fatter but your feet look thinner, you may be losing muscle mass
Try walking about.

I am glad the window frames are badly fitting.I don’t need to open the window

All these years telling us to insulate our homes and nobody realised it would mean the air was stale
Why is bread stale?
Stale is a weird word.
Air in means Virus out

Dominic Cummings is going to be beheaded at the Tower soon….Carrie!

I wish I didn’t have to eat or walk about.I’d like to fly and live on insects
I am a latent bird

I like this story

Short Stories

Short Story 134: Oh Well

Ahh, those moments when you become someone else. Times when you say things you would not say otherwise. Those times when emotions take over you, control you.

That is all she was able think today. She rarely lost control of her words. But today she had. Oh well.

Was she justified because she was right to be angry? Would being in the right justify the bad sentences that came out of her mouth?

She thought of that too. Ultimately, she decided that bad words were never justified. Not in her world at least. You should either let it go or watch your words, she thought to herself. Maybe bad words could be justified if the offending person was a bad, bad person. But not in this situation. This really didn’t fit her. She should have let it go. Oh well.

The bad things about words you say is that you can’t take them back. She loved Rumi the poet. He had said

“Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates:Is it true?Is it necessary?Is it kind?”

She hadn’t listened to him this time. Oh well.

In this situation, she was objectively justified. But she could not justify herself. Oh well.

I’ve done nothing at all today
I just breathe and I eat and I pray
My mind is contemplative
And yet I’m inventative
Why did God make me this way?

I have written a poem, you demur
Is that work like cleaning cat’s fur?
I love little Minny
She scratches the sinners
Never ask me what my scars are

I have brushed all my hair I admit
Well,I can’t find that comb for the nits
I’ve got my dandruff shampoo
What is it that you do?
Gather it up bit by bit?

As we get older hair thins
And we cannot open our tins
But I love the privilege
I am jury and love a judge
I have a confession, I have sinned

Dusk and winter rain combined
Bring old memories to mind
Hiding in the foggy park,
With my satchel, dancing stark
Cracking frosty pools ,I stamp
Icy webs hang from the lamps
Dusk, a secret time and state
In between the school and gate
Jumping,skipping, tossing hands
Imagination and its lands
Chasing,screaming, waltzing on
Children’s voices, children’s fun
When it’s dark, out Mother comes
Calls us home to do our sums
Homework,what a cursed word
Dusk and twilight, angels lark
I see the moon from my big bed
The curtains thinner than a thread
Cracks in pavements patterns make
Like God, like prophets, the earth shake

Signs and symbols guide the route.

Love gives the soul her appetite.

Though the night is black and starless,

The inner guide is never careless.

The notes are struck,the tune is played,

Plain melodies are overlaid.

In this chant and benediction,

Healing comes for desolation.

Though the passage way is narrow,

This road is the one to follow.

Struggling through the mud and mire,

We see,in darkness, tongues of fire.

The sacred centre of our life

Is never found without some strife.

Just then, the dark and light combine.

To create a symbol for the mind

Instead of looking forward to going to heaven,
We look forward to a phone that charges faster
Charging faster made no difference to the Light Brigade

We looked forward to going to the Library on Saturdays
Now we get e-books in two minutes
Disconnected from our Community

We went to church on Sundays
Now we want proof God exists
Is this an improvement?

We did Al-gebra at the Grammar School
Who invented it and why?
What is “x” anyway?

Here the cats’ claws tear at the wood
As they run over trunks they bare bled
Crows caw, blinded, hieroglyphics
Feet to be read, marks made at speed
Horrific,horrific, the Greek metonymics
The cats claws’ screams seen in the bark
Hummed far too fast, straight into the dark

But ah, alas, my pipe of reed,
That whistles sweet over dell and lea
Let shepherds only hear your sighs
For now there’s none to list to you.“Salamuri” by Akaki Tseretel

My heart rose up in gladness for this dawn
No round sun, a reddened strip, appeared
Of red sky, the wiser shepherds warned

The shepherds played reed pipes,not great ram’s horns
Their music heard by lovers stilled the ear
My heart rose up in gladness for this dawn

The glances and the touches made love warm
So into their Communion they were steered
Oh,red sky, the wiser shepherds called

The first emotion may end up forlorn
The true appearance may change love to fear
My heart rose up in gladness for this dawn

The little lives of shepherds,time untorn
No texts, no phone, no chat, great peace is near
For red sky, the wiser shepherds warned

In my eye I felt a rush of tears
I turned away, the sun was fierce, sincere
My heart rose up in gladness for red dawn
Misreading thus, by wisdom ill informed

If you are afraid of a lingering death I have just found an answer!

Do more dangerous things like these below
Fly your own plane or just fly on any plane every week
Go swimming in places where there are dangerous currents in the sea
[This is often where a large river joins the sea such as The Wash,UK]
Drive a car before you take lessons.Go alone but the risk to others is unfair.
Just travel a lot in any way
Mix with angr, drunken people every night
Find a new partner with a very bad temper who likes cooking,Make sure there are lots of knives in the kitchen.Keep going in asking how soon dinner will be ready or where are your clean underpants

The main problem is whether others will be injured.
Wait till you feel unwell then walk along a cliff top
Keep lots of animals and let them over-run your house
Snakes are one possibility

It seems odd to risk your life like this but it’s really saving you from years
in a hospital bed wearing a gown with a slit back and a candelebra in your hand
or is it a primula?
And who wants that?
Also this risky behaviour is a way of retaining control over your life and death
That is the paradox

Suffering passes, but the fact of having suffered never passes.

• Review of Existential Psychology and Psychiatry, Volume 19, Association of Existential Psychology and Psychiatry., 1984 [Association of Existenti

Leon Bloy

• I saw you on the pavement
  with your old brown dog
  You were shabby,poor,ragged,
  Sat on your tartan rug.
  You had water for the dog,
  You hugged him and you sang,
  But the people walked on by,
  And no-one looked at you.
  No-one looked at you.
  
  But you still sang your song.
  And you sent me so much love
  It crossed from eye to eye.
  I felt it coming in.
• 
  I heard that you had died,
  Though you were only thirty three.
  Only thirty three.
  I wonder,where’s your dog?
  I felt our souls had touched,
  You gave to me so much
  As I wandered in my grief
  Through the roads and round the streets.
  In your glance, you touched my heart.
  I felt love swimming through,
  From you right into me.
  
  Will you come again?
  I see all these dim, grey men
  Who cut your benefits
  To give more wealth to few;
  So that the needle’s eye,
  which is waiting when we die,
  is forgotten, for they want
  protection for their wealth.
  
  I wish that beggar man
  would come back here again.
  I liked to hear his songs
  But I can’t recall the tunes;
  Maybe I’ll write songs myself,
  That’s the highest sort of wealth
  Our creativity
  Is a path to dignity.
  Come back.beggar man
  Wherever have you gone?
  Wherever have you gone?

When I was little we had a lovely picture on the wall.It was the Three Bears
My brothers and I all loved it,
When I was five,it changed into a bridge with three arches and a river

Similarly the house up out street had faces.So did the armchairs in the living room
Everything was alive and to be related to

https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/abstruse

Meaning of abstruse in English

 abstruseadjective   formalUK  /æbˈstruːs/ US  /æbˈstruːs/not known or understood by many people:an abstruse philosophical essaySynonymsobscurerecherché formalrecondite formal