My toes were cold ,like frozen strips of fish
Chill- blains threaten,I must not choose this
I’ll buy some woollen tights and knit some socks
Keeping warm in winter with the flocks

Podiatry is on the NHS
And so my lady kind I vow to bless
Gentle as a mist on Whitby shores
Warmer than the sea,I can’t say more.

I ought to wear some warmer clothes at night
I have a little cat his name is Blake
He will not eat his dinner, he wants mine
I wish he were a man and we could dine

My fingers are as cold as stainless steel
Was it I who made the motor wheel ?
I like ellipses yet they do nor roll
Though neither does a dollop of hot coal

When we all are old we’ll go to God
He recycles people with his Rod
Some of us come back as Eskimos
I can guess that just by my cold toes

I prefer a hotter place to live
Hell has its attractions like a sieve
Naughty people have more fun I feel
I want to change my feet into small wheels

In the end, it’s good to feel and hope
Before we turn into the holy smoke

The grief that was a stone inside my chest
Has melted into water,now my tears
That rain upon my face, that feel like death

Is human life a lesson with its tests?
Must people walk with anguish down the years?
The grief weighed like a boulder in my chest

God did not evoke the fierce Tempest
His still small voice will whispers in the ear
The rain runs down my face, I hate love’s death

I rage against the fever,give me rest
The little whisper tells me,do not fear
The grief stood like a boulder on my chest

The Dove flies on the current of God’s breath
My shrouded eyes are wet, how is Love dear
That rains upon my face, that feel like death?

From the cliff top I saw white walls sheer
I shall not go again,my mind is clear
The blocked grief was a stone inside my chest
It turned to tears, yet still I feel love’s death

As I writer I have been sentenced to death after 50 years
In future I’ll use phrases
Also I am censored to death so my novels don’t make sense
Do sense my feelings and be kinder to me
I feel like a soporific
With tea, bread and butter?
The sensation of love is a distraction when doing partial differential equations.
Why am I doing them?
They are better than Su Doku

The hailstones pounded the window
as violently,as if they had minds
bent on killing;soldiers in rows and ranks rushing onwards;
as each fell another and another took its place.
Cold and mathematical they had a simple precise force and geometry.
Into this warlike scene,floated two white butterflies
Crossing and recrossing the spaces between the hail
they followed a random path;now together.now apart
Their unplanned,loving dance leads to mating, procreation and a future
while the hailstones can only die.
Seems sometimes fragile freedom is more productive
than the fierce mechanical modern world can imagine.
I see the butterflies now like startled flowers
hunting for the sun

If we can’t do good, we may be able at least to avoid harming others
But some people like President Trump either don’t know or don’t care
And it seems to to be hard to know when we may be harming others
Probably requires a lot of humility
That is not something admired in our culture
But when you are dying it may affect you unless you are totally sedated
My husband used to say, as you live so will you die
He died very peacefully with me singing by his side
I’m a singer inside and I get messages that way.I don’t always hear them
I heard the bird tapping on the window in March
I saw Death like a black shape dancing in May
Then I knew.
I did my best and if I harmed him I am sure he forgave me
We are not always able to be aware of what we are doing
However we don’t always want to know
Just knowing what is good is not enough
We have to let it come to us and be part of us
And generally
Be courteous
Be dignified
But have fun
Enjoy the life we carry within
Then let it go

Oh,mother dear wherever have you been
To leave a cat all day is very mean
Emile,I need my freedom now and then
I can’t love Dave but I would like a man
I must go out to buy a handsome coat
Cognac is the colour I love most

Emile cried, whatever do you think
I saw some frogs a-courting in the sink
I was on the draining rack up there
They asked me to avert my amber stare

Are frogs faithful, don’t they just leave spawn?
They are cold towards tadpoles unborn
We saw them by Moss Bank in shallow pools
Mary wonders if all frogs are cruel

Stan came in with his angels right behind
They are tired of heaven, they’ve resigned
Here’s a pin upon which they can dance
Mary was delighted and entranced

Do you need a dinner now you’ve died?
I wouldn’t mind a steak, the old man sighed
Some buttered new potatoes and a fool
Rhubarb or vanilla would be cool

I have done no shopping, Mary cried
I have no money for the food you like
Shall I get a pizza, fish and chips
That will put some colour in your lips

I am only joking, Stanley said
I shall merely visit you in bed
Emile wept with joy to see his Dad
What a spirit, is he going mad?

In came Annie in her long green coat
Her eyes were black and scratched was her throat
I fell into the Ribble eating chips
See the bruises on my purple lips

Never walk on water,Mary screeched
Even when you cross all Southport Beach
Stay away from danger,I’ll ring Dave
He will dress your bruises with his gauze

Annie did not tell them all the truth
She had met her lover on the roof

You were very close to me
Often in my mind
Offering me affection
Humour well designed
But life is rarely stable
As lightly blows the sand
When you seem so far away,I’m blue

The distance grows,I shiver
I don’t know what to say
We are different people
Changing every day
Like we are wearing bandages
We’re wounded and dismayed
Yet I’m glad you’re faraway, it’s true

Soon we will lose contact
I shall be free and glad
Living with your rages
Makes a woman mad
The love became indifference
That’s what makes me sad
Now you feel so far away, what’s new?

Do not leave me for the desolate grave.
Do not leave me  here when you are gone
Do not leave me  to whom love  you gave
Do not leave me

My   tender arms, and all my body ache
How soothe my mind, when near me there is none.
Do not leave me for  that desolate  grave
Do not leave me

For   our thought-less love, I still do crave
A founding ground that we had built upon
Do not leave me   to whom love  you gave
Do not leave me

A sorrow deep convulses like a wave
Washes me of  hope, of memories  done
Oh, do not leave me for the desolate grave.
Do not leave me

I love not the charisma  of men suave
I loved your voice and all  the love we spun
Never leave me   to whom love  you gave
Never leave me.

In my heart, your name shall be engraved
In my mind,  you circle like the sun
Do not leave me for  that desolate   grave
Do not abandon me  for death’s  embrace
Do not leave me

Ways of thinking about literature made the writer’s muse smile
She didn’t like nuns and dog’s breakfasts
Her teacher at school became confusingly unchangeable.
She wasn’t sharing so we heard bells toll,
What to read and what to shirk she dismayed us in her uncertainty;
books matter;
even that we revolved slowly in some planetary action for human salutations
This remade powerfully—the way to live;
to live improperly was to read art works
with the eyea of eagles
they affected me,and ironised other ways of seeing
the ambitions of over-arching theory and hence our being.
I was educated to love with all my heart

“The real opposition is the media,” Steve Bannon, the president’s former chief strategist, once told the journalist Michael Lewis. “And the way to deal with them is to flood the zone with shit.

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/05/president-unraveling/611146/

Give me a smile
There are plenty of other fish in the sea
You are tough.You will be fine
You should be over it by now
You can come here for Christmas if you WANT to
You are not invited to the Christening.It’s Family only.[That means no Aunts.]
[ on the upside, this will save you the money you would have spent on Gifts]
My aunt got married again in 6 months [ I’d prefer a silk dress]
My mother never cried when anyone died.
Well, we all feel sad now and then.
You can borrow that black coat I bought last year for the Funeral
What do you mean, you don’t feel like cooking?
Your husband looked gay.
You look ok to me
You are poor.
Would you like a vibrator for Xmas? And some batteries
What do you mean, you can’t see well enough to drive?
You’ll have to go out more.When it’s legal
What do you think of Joe Biden being 78?

The sunset is pale
Coral with grey finger marks
No bird sang today
The leaves wait like mouths
Now they are shutting their lips
They don’t get night feeds
All is calm and still
The moon is singing Mahler
Dead babies whisper.
Lullaby,the heart
Enfold all infants’ pathos
Dies with them daily
Forget not at night
Those for whom the sun is dead
They are stiff like dolls

Iced water falls from the sky in beads

Just leaving space

for fragile butterflies to court between the drops.

The geometry of love

fits any space

The butterfly is braver than the tiger

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2010/nov/13/tim-parks-silence-meditation

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2010/nov/13/tim-parks-silence-meditation

Never check to see how hot the bath water is
Always change your own lightbulbs especially if you have vertigo
Always put your rubbish out after dark, particularly if you can’t see well
Never put tools away
Put the kettle on the fire just before going upstairs for a short rest
If you have no fire, put the kettle on the gas stove & forget to light the gas
Always wait till you are worn out before changing the sheets
Wash your hair in very hot water.NO!
Use all the mugs you own before washing any, then drop a pile on your foot
Use a knife to eat your cereal
Keep snakes as pets and always forget to put them in their box at night
Keep a shark in your pond
Keep lots of cats and let them sleep with you or close the door and get insomnia from their wailing

Make yourself some cauliflower cheese.When you get it out of the oven, drop half on the floor

Make some toast with your last slice of bread and drop into the bowl of hot water in the sink

Get some icecream out, then make a very long phone call as it melts beside you

Think of Four Seasons and Giulini while carrying a bowl of soup to the table….. need I say more?

Grill some sausages whilst wearing backless furry mules with a tendency to slip when you slide out the grill pan and slip on the tiles

Drop your last egg before it even gets to the pan.

When you died,I lost my time and place
Floating round and round without a guide
No longer on a track but out in space

Emptiness so vast, I felt debased
I was a speck of dust in air to float
When you died,I lost my time and place

Where have gone that home, our hearts, our base?
Who has got the means to love evoke,
No longer on a path but out in space?

Almost human,suffering, disgraced
Isolated,nailed, impaled, he broke
When God dies there’s no time left nor place

For such agony we have no taste
Take a cigarette, grief hides in smoke
No longer on the earth but lost in space

On my words, my grief has made me choke
I cannot eat,I cannot even walk
When you died,I lost my time and place
No longer in our home, what is this space?

When I saw you waiting in that cafe
I knew you would be mine.
You were handsome, smiling,funny..you were
 specially designed.
You looked like men I’d only dreamed about in all those years before.
I’m so broke up,so broke up;you don’t love me anymore.

I knew you would be mine.
You were handsome, smiling,funny..you were specially designed.
You looked like men I’d only dreamed about in all those years before.
I’m so broke up,so broke up;you don’t love me anymore.

I saw you on the station as I came from out the train.
You wore an old green parka to protect you from the rain.
I wanted to be one with you,to make a Love entire;
But what we did was  create pain; your love did not  endure

You walked away so quickly,I could not see you long.
I wish I had a big guitar to draw you back with song.
I looked at where you disappeared;what love has loss revealed?
I wish I could just lay down on this floor to keep my face concealed.

Railway stations sadden me, for I know we’ll never meet .
I won’t cry more,for tears are running  straight down to my feet.
I walk fast looking straight ahead past that entrance gate,
I pretend that you have missed your train,that work was running late.

I count from one and one up to a thousand million more–
But I know for sure it's far too late; you have closed that heavy door.
You are hiding in a dungeon
You are covered with white steel
But I know you had a heart and you must surely feel.

I lost all my illusions, and then I lost some more.
I wish I could lay down and die,right here on this floor

After his slow death,I woke up sad
A hand was clutching tightly round my heart
The pain came, with the tears like Noah’s flood

But sometimes I wake up feeling calm and glad
I feel you are still here, but panic starts
When I remember that which made me sad

Unfeeling friends call long time mourners bad
As if they have got access to some chart
The pain came, with the tears few understood

Oh, get us to the Asylum,we are mad
You think that, but weeping heals the hurt
After his calm death,I woke up sad

Beware the dawn when you are feeling good
The heart and mind are numb, they seem remote
The pain returns, the tears will wet your bed

Here is his brown jacket, here his coat
I feel them with my hands, as tight my throat
After his sweet death,I woke up sad
The tears will flow forever in full flood

KatherineAngst, feelings, love, poetry, villanelle  November 2, 2020 1 Minute

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My skin is aching,tender, loss has pierced
My heart needs walls, its boundary has gone.
I miss the touch of love from him so dear |
|
A rack of metal pins brought me tears
Why suffer this till I am quite undone?
My skin is aching,tender, by loss pierced

We forget that grief is close to fear
When alone, we panic, what’s to come?
I ache without the love from him so dear

Psychotic, with no unity, who steers?
My head is so remote,I have no plan
My skin is aching,tender, by loss pierced

Cursed be the One who made our sphere
Since Eden went,by so called sin undone
I ache without the love from someone dear

I should get my cell, St.Julian
Hid inside the church wall, does Love come?
My skin is aching,tender, loss has pierced

I am fortunate
If I find  any two gloves
One left and one right

The other problem
My hands are misshapen too
Ladies’ gloves might not fit me.

I can be a man
If I decide I want to be
There! I wear your gloves now.

But I prefer scarves
Made for women, with flowers
Embroidery,silk,cashmere.

My taste is quite good
I know  I like your image
You stand on the bridge in Prague

In Wenceslaus Square
The orchestra played Ma Vlast
The Elektion

Holocaust Museum
Children’s coloured drawings are
Butterflies for God

He died too with them
So we have no  floor to stand on
Everything’s trembling

I forgot I am.
I was lost somewhere other
How do we stand on air?

Joe Biden at his son’s funeral from the Guardian Newsaper

She kept a SIM card in her vest
It kept warm against her chest
But if she put her smart phone there
Its ringing sound would curl men’s hair
Every body stares

How much does a SIM card know
As the numbers go by slow
Is it proof you are a thief
If you hide it in your briefs?
Noone even cares

What a peaceful world it was
Just the radio and God
No landline phone,no TV set
Wilfred Pickles, what no net?
Never cared to dare

Playing rounders in the road
Helping mother with her load
Learning how to stitch a hem
Buttons that came off now and then
Just another year

Now it’s USB cords fine
Sign yourself up , wi fi time
Get connected to someone
From Palestine to Wellington
Photos are the lure

Time has shrunk, our posts impinge
Messages and twenty rings
I have three phones in my bag
One for mother, one for dad
They are dead but I ain’t sad
It’s much worse,I’m going mad.
Oh,everybody shares

This is the Funeral of his son Beau who had had brain cancer.He lost his first wife and their daughter in a car crash.

He shows it’s never too late to work for change whatever the scale