Category: Thinkings and poems

I wish I’d seen your body

I wish I’d seewmn you a body when you died

Your silent Face your shutteted sea green eyes.

I wish I’d held your hand when you lay down

You didn’t like your hands so square and brown

I wish that I could have  talked to you again

Your eyes are closed I think you were in pain.

You were only six when daddy died

All these years you suffered but you tried

Now you had enough of what life lends

You have gone before me to the end.

I’d like to lay my head against your breast

Go with God, for now it’s time to rlest

Demented people look like refugees

Like refugees demented people flee

They have no plans no place where they can be

In my nightmares I have felt like this

No surrounding arms to bring us bliss

The fear which seems irrational is not so

Would you be patient with no place to go?

Lucky refugees may find a home.

The elderly are lost, they scream and moan

Help me help me like a child they call.

There is no Eden after that great Fall

They long for death, the home they’re in appalls

Where is the Ark to rescue these lost souls?

They have nothing left to pay the toll

Mother father husband and young wife

Confusion takes the meaning from a life.

They do not pray because they are locked out

No church no Mass, no priest,no rites,but doubt.

The piteous hands held out for us to grasp

We turn away, unbearable the task

You don’t want to know about my bowels

I have been in this hospital for two days and I’ve been diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis amongst other things and because of that I cannot walk I cannot stand up until I have some treatment and in addition to that I have not got a bed in a ward.I am in the corridor on a trolley and I’ve been in a side room on a trolley and now I’m in a large room which is not really meant for patients as far as I can see because there’s a kind of desk with someone behind it and a large number of people just came in and stood there waiting to I deciding or sign out and I want to see people like myself we’ve been put in here because there’s no bed for them in the ward. And of course more privacy and more assistance

I informed one of the staff that I cannot get my bowels to empty. She asked me if I would like a bed pan

There are no curtains around my bed so I’m in public view with A skimpy cotton blanket over here would you like to move your bowels or use a bedpan in front of a room full of people you might say oh they were taking no notice of you but what does that do to me if I’m so insignificant because I can move my bowels in front of 15 people and they wo I would say it’s degrading being fitted like thisn’t even look at me we should one way is a really easy for some other hand it makes me like a cat or a dog that I can just do it anywhere admitedly I’m wearing a nappy but … It will be pretty obvious what was happening. Although it’s not happening in reality. and 

Am I meant to lie here all night with an aching belly?

The lights are not turned out at night they’re not turned down and attending moment you may be summoned to have an x-ray so that they have to make full use of all the machines and technologies 24 hours a day.

Human qualities like kindness touch gentleness care rest and sleep are not valued at all and if you can’t rest or sleep etc it’s just your own fault

It is degrading to be treated like this and eventually I became so distressed and confused by the steroids the time on is to ring the hospital switchboard and spoke to someone and I’ve been moved to the acute medical unit which is really good. I might even get washed soon.After 3 days…

Maybe I might get to clean my teeth one day.

I only had about four hours sleep in two nights and I am very tired now.

I think after the first few hours in A&E it becomes a trauma because I had nothing to eat on Monday and nothing to eat on Tuesday and only some water which I had to get by shouting for help . I was not given water automatically because they kept moving me to different parts of the corridor or into a different room then they would check me for an ECG about 11 o’clock in the evening and bring me back to the corridor again this idea estimate full use of the machines but this means the person is completely ignored the body exists in time and space and it needs a third of the time to be asleep and resting and if you don’t have that you’re no longer living in your body

.

Words and words and words

What’s the difference between apathy and empathy?

Does anything rhyme with

condolences?

What is diligent indolence?

What’s the difference between sympathy and infamy?

What’s the difference between daydreaming and fantasy

Apparently daydreaming is no good for you unless you do it without ego … Then it is very good for you. But don’t do it while you’re on the underground or on tkan escalator

Apparently peaceful often confuse the word loss and the word lost so they will write

I am sorry for your lost but that’s alright as long as long as they did put I’m sorry for your loft . And I hope they do not put I’m sorry that I laughed

What are trombolances?

And is it a good idea to mention your deepest symphonies to someone who’s been bereaved? Or even if they’re being deceived or believed be careful what you say because words do hurt just as much as stones.

. Do you know that people were schizoid) personality disorder from survive better in concentration camps. That shows you what it’s like being a family in some parts of our society that it’s nearly as bad in certain respects as being treated very truly and badly by the Nazis

The only good thing I could say about the Nazis is that it was alright to hate them. Because there’s no doubt about their wickedness

Why does the Bible say

Judgement is mine says the lord and this judgment spell correctly because it’s done it two different ways in one sentence and I’m not sure what’s the right one of those two so if you know actually could write a comment. It will really nice to get a comment so thank you in anticipation

The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.

 

Eight o’clock– and the sun’s still glowing
Eight o’clock – of a  colour bright day,
Up above, pink-tinged clouds are sliding
Down still sky, sweeping sun away.

Come back sweet sun, do not leave us.
Come back bright beams,I need sunlight
Down on earth, it’s witch moon darkness,
When your face is out of sight.

I see the  coloured clouds extending
I feel the  sense of sky lit bright.
But gently now, the mist surrounds you
And sweeps away that happy sight.

Into velvet blackness sinking,
The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.
Goodbye to haste,and glare, and sunshine,
Time for reverie,night time calls.

On the night-train’s gentle journeys,
On this  trackless train we ride
Strange visions and haunting pictures
We will see in dreams’ designs.

In my night train,I’ll be happy
In such rich deep reverie.
We visit darkness in our sleeping,
There we learn its ecstasy.

Now we may have no God to hold us,
In His Hands of Living Love,
What will help us trust deep blackness
If there’s no Saviour from above?

Must we enter that great darkness,
Go back to dark from which we came,
Into dark all living creatures,
In that darkness find our home?

Trust the dark unknown, to hold us,
Trust the dark,both night and day.
Must we walk into that darkness
Trust it is our safest way?

Waxy flowers in the snow

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

I see once more your just washed 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,

Always in my mind

Would lions and tigers need washing lines?

Since the big tree .. had been cut down the apple tree had much more space and Mary saw it was full of blossom.

She had been longing to the outside but after the washest winter on record she was nervous about opening and closing the back door. So hot and the garden looked so Green and actually took the keys off the hook inserted them into the lock and the door opened as easily as a babies mouth to the breast.

Mary stepped outside. The air itself was warm and scented.

She saw Emile. He was sitting underneath the Bench  on the terrace.

Are you hiding so that you can watch the birds, Mary said to her cat.

Why are you always so critical of others motives the animal replied pensively

. Oh I’m sorry I expect it’s because I’m rather anxious at the moment since my cousin has died suddenly

What’s the point of being anxious he asked her

Sometimes it’s just like a wave of something sweeping over me Mary told him I just have to hang on and wait for it to pass,

But now that the weather so much better we will all feel a lot more cheerful and no doubt that’s why Sunak has not called a general election yet

The voters will think its he who has improved the weather will they ?

Well you see we are like that we humans we think correlation means causation so if the weather is good when they’re called as an election then the man calling it must be the best man to win

Aristotle is dead the cat toay ld her politely and I’m very glad because he would be very upset to hear you  ssomething that souns logical but is actually just rubbish to be honest.

Will a male we can’t be clever and thoughtful all day long sometimes we have to say whatever nonsense comes into our heads

Oh look there’s Annie. I think she’s coming this way I’ll go and put the kettle on so we can all have a cup of tea on on the terrace for the first time since September 2023.

How greatl,Annie cried. We forget how wonderful it is to be able to open the doors and the windows and when it’s warm enough to sit outside without a coat on. Or in the case ile when he has to hide under the Venice because the sun is too hot for someone with a fur coat that he can’t remove.

Yes cats obviously should be living in a very cold climate and yet lions and tigers have got fur on and they live in hot countries in Africa all very mysterious.

But it’s lucky they can’t take their faur off because then  . Zayv would need

washing machines and soap powder and washing lines in the jungle to dry their fur

That would put off people going on holidays and taking safaris

Imagine your holiday photographs of lions and tigers and leopards standing with nothing on underneath washing lines full of fur and by the way what would they have used for clothes pegs?

Everyone bu4st out laughing and so shall all of us

Like wet paint from the artist’s brush

My old blue fountain pen allows
The ink across the page to flow
Like wet paint from an artist’s brush;
And words come in a rush.

Enchanted by the hand that writes,
Bewitched by art, beauty alights.
The script is like a music score
Through which you pass as through a door.
Imagination’s home.

As,mysteriously,to you,to me,
The spirits of our hearts are tamed,
By rhythms of pen,of brush,of mind,
They enter vision quite unplanned,
Like moths to flutter softly round
Fire joined heart and hand.

The pen slows down,the hand goes still
And just as dreams at daybreak will,
They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone,
I almost caught that one.

The grief that was a stone

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 torment with its tests?
Must people walk with anguish down the years?
The grief pressed like a boulder, took my breath.

God did not evoke the  Storm that passed
His still small voice  may whisper in the ear
The rain runs down my face, now wrath once love

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  causes hurt?


From the cliff top I saw  rolling seas
I shall not go again,my mind is clear
The blocked grief,  hard as marble  in my chest
Has turned to tears, yet still I feel  your death

The grief of infants

Afghanistan, Iraq,Iran
Can “Democracy” be “forced” on “them”
Somalia,Gaza,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?
Israel, 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,Gaza,Pakistan

Climbing

I think now I’m okay the path is steep.

Broken stones and gravel hit my feet.

Optimistic in a shallow way

(Any little thing could wreck my day.)

I feel I’m making progress as I walk.

Look at me now- hear the way I talk.

I’m doing really well despite the rain.

Yet now my eyes are blinded by the pain.

I need someone beside me on this climb.

I’m getting older fast, there’s  not much  time

Will I know I’ve got there.. I can’t say.

I just keep up my climbing day by day

Yet if I fall from a much greater height..

I won’t survive alone through a long night.

I’m crouching now and leaning on the side.

The gravel starts to run, the ground elides.

Should I trust my instinct or my brain?

If I fall from here not much remains

Emile goes to the corner shop

Mary had ordered all of her groceries but she forgot to put tea on the list So she sent Emile to the corner shop with a note tied to his collar
Please give the bearer your best tea.
Emile went off and managed to get into the shop after some children who were getting sweets with their pocket money or debit cards
He went up to the counter and mewed, Mother has sent you a note.
One of the children laughed
Is your mother a girlfriend of Mr. Kumar?
No, she is not, Emile growled with a loud throbbing voice
Mr. Kumar led Emile behind the counter into his living room and spoke to his wife
She asked Emile to sit down as she went into the kitchen and poured him some tea from her China teapot
.Do you want it on a saucer, she enquired thoughtfully?
Yes, please, said Emile. This is very kind.
He leaped onto the rug and began sipping the Ceylon tea. This makes a change, he murmured.
I didn’t know you could just walk in and get free tea!
After a few minutes, the shop door crashed open and he heard Mary’s voice
Oh, Mr. Kumar, I am so stupid. I sent Emile out to buy some Twinings tea and he has not come home! What shall we do? She started crying and dabbing her eyes with Stan’s hanky.
Come through, he whispered politely. Do not weep, dear. All is well
Mary came in and saw Emile drinking his tea and winking at Mrs. Kumar.
Emile, you stupid cat. I was going crazy worrying.I’ll strangle you!
Is it my fault, he replied. I only gave them that note you sent.
But is it not obvious what I intended? she said plaintively
These days you never know, the cat muttered. I try to be obedient as far as I can.
Mrs. Kumar came out and gave Mary a cup of tea.
Sit down, dear. Worry is so bad for you. Why did you not phone us?
Since it was just a packet of tea I thought Emile could carry it. He is very intelligent normally.
Yes, I am, thought Emile as he looked at Maisie, the Kumar’s lovely cat who was asleep on a chair.
I wonder if I can wake her up, he asked himself.
Does she drink tea?
Would she like to start a family? It’s not too late for me to become a parent.
Maisie opened her eyes
What’s that cat doing here?
I only came for the tea, Emile told her. But you look very beautiful. Shall we meet tonight
I’m washing my fur, she told him with a smile
How about tomorrow?
Have you got a phone?
No, he said, I’ll just caterwaul at dusk and if you are free I’ll be under the red maple tree waiting for you
Good grief thought Mary.
This cat is very cunning. Just one chance and he is making the most of it.
Mr. Kumar gave her some tea and she wandered home in a daze after asking them for a drink on Sunday.
My social life is looking up but there’s no-one who will hug me. If only Emile were bigger!
His legs are too short!I should get a donkey instead

Can we be happy when the News is bad.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/jul/02/how-to-be-happy-when-the-news-is-bad-brexit-trump-oliver-burkeman/

Extract

” Stop telling yourself that you need to feel upbeat, and it begins to seem less pointless to make some tiny effort to address one or two of those problems: to take on a small weekly volunteering role here; to make a modest donation to charity there. The solution to feeling so despairing about the news, in short, is to let yourself feel despairing – and take action, too. “One of the great things about everything being so fucked up,” Jensen likes to say when speaking to audiences, “is that no matter where you look, there’s a lot of work to be done.”

Don’t kid yourself that you will single-handedly eradicate nationwide or global problems; instead, define and pursue small-scale goals, like joining a campaign with some connection to the issues that trouble you the most. Focus on activities you enjoy: these will be much easier to sustain. And there is certainly some relief in attending to your own wellbeing. Exercise, sleep, time spent in nature, meditation and socialising are all proven paths to increased happiness; they’re cliches, but only because they really work – and it isn’t self-indulgent to make time for them.

Paradoxically, it’s through taking action, despite not feeling happy about the situation, that a deeper kind of happiness can arise. (That’s certainly the implication of research on the emotional benefits of volunteering, charitable giving, community involvement and political protest.) Jensen has written that people sometimes ask him why he doesn’t just kill himself, if things are as bad as he says. “The answer is that life is really, really good. I am a complex enough being that I can hold in my heart the understanding that we are really, really fucked, and at the same time that life is really, really good. I am full of rage, sorrow, joy, love, hate, despair, happiness, dissatisfaction, and a thousand other feelings. ”

Yet underneath long sorrow there is joy

A strange flawed beauty  caught my naked eye
As if some  monstrous beast is hiding near
Where deep rose clouds   hang from a darker sky

Now the rose has gone and all is grey
The night will fall and sorrow is our fare
A  shattered beauty caught by mirrored eye

Yet underneath  night sorrow there is joy
The wisdom of the  ages  does not stare
Though deep rose clouds   hang from a darker sky

Now I see some gold spread unalloyed
The artist we can worship ,love, revere
 Beauty, fearless, caught  in mirrored eye

Nature in her way will never lie
Yet she can kill  what humans   hold most dear
While deep rose clouds   hang from a near night sky

In the clouds of sadness faces leer
Hallucinations look but cannot jeer
Such beauty ,numinous ,affects my eye
While deep rose clouds  sing from a darkening sky

 

 

Love’s victory

Turn back, live again, he asked of me
Do not wander in the darkness anymore
One false move might give death victory

We are each connected to that tree
The sunlit top, the roots hid in earth’s floor
Come back, live again, he asked of me

While we live, we’ll live with dignity
Not scrabbling for the gold in blood and gore
One more step will give hate victory

The kindness of the golden light was clear
And left sweet feelings in my heart’s deep core
Come back, live your life, he then soothed me

Do not wonder now why you are here
We’re here to live and living shall restore
What our suffering self has found so dear

I had never seen the Light before
Only Christ the Tyger with his roar
Come back, live through pain, he asked of me
That first step will give love victory

The light that is enough

Attracted by the light that is enough

We need not look for wisdom somewhere else

Wandering through the world so dark and rough

We may find the secret in ourselves

The sacred is as spare as leaves are fine

No wasted bud no colour in excess

So loving senses decorate the mind

We need not hide from chaos or distress.

The secret Life is here, the every day

This is where we know the mystic light

Our tongues alone will tell us what to say

Our normal eyes will show us holy signs

for with our shadowed selves we rightly play

Enlightened by the flowers so wild and free

The sacred is on earth for you and me

This variegated colour

In between the darkness and the bright,

Graded shades of grey and lilac lie.

These variegated colours give delight.

And from my soul, I hear a gentle sigh.

As we live, we dwell in mysteries;

Must take decisions based on various views.

And unknown memories from our history

Emphasis the old , see not the new.

For true perception, we must humble be.

Not for moral reasons but for sight.

The emptiness lets flood creative seas.

Allows bright rays of loving, guiding light.

We need to know we do not know at all.

And, trembling, hold the doors of vision wide.

So gentle should be judgements when we fail.

Then errors we’ll appreciate, not hide.

We must deal with life unknown, unclear;

Perception is a better guide than fear.

Thank you for your funny face

Thanks for all those calls and letters
Thanks for caring that I’m here.
In my darkest, lonesome moments
These replies will keep you near.

Thanks for answering all my emails
Thank you for the hours you give.
Thanks for sharing heartfelt thoughts
And being so generous with your love.

Thank you for your wit and grace,
Thank for your funny face.
Thank you for your deep blue gaze and
Thank you for your warm embrace.

Thank you,thank you,thank you,thank.
Love you,love you,love you,Love.
Thank you,thank you,thanks to you,
Because,because,because,Because

Mary and the bed

Mary picked up her mobile phone to ring for a cab..On it,there was a message
.You have missed a call from home.Mary shivered.
Has Stan come back?
Then she recalled she had rung her own mobile before coming out.Her mind sagged like sheet of rubber suspended between four tall trees in the jungle..
Hello,It’s Mrs Tan.Can you do a me cab from the dental surgery to my home? It’s right by the doctor’s surgery.
She stepped outside into the warm air which felt like a caress on her poor numb face.
When she got home she found Annie in the kitchen looking at her collection of cookery books.
Do you want to get rid of any of these, her friend queried.
I am thinking of learning some new recipes so I can invite those awful therapists across the road for dinner.But I have to be sure that what I serve has no hidden meaning especially aggressive or sexual.
Well,Mary said,don’t you think that people differ in what they find sexual?
Beats me,said Annie meaningfully.I fancy doing beef in beer with French bread and mustard baked on the top.
I used to do that,Mary said.Why did we stop doing that cooking? Penguin brought a new book every month.I have most of them and ,at the weekend, I’d study them for ages looking for things like apple mousse and different stews.
When we first got married I used a kind of cheap women’s magazine approach and most often as a pudding I did tinned peaches with cinnamon sprinkled on grilled till hot and spicy.Eventually, Stan got fed up with it and so I got into cordon bleu and using real cream not Carnation milk
Her blue eyes gleamed in excitement and were rendered even more remarkable by the teal and turquoise eye shadow Annie had forced her to wear which matched the sea blue mascara she already had.Annie said.
it will be good for us both to meet new people especially educated ones
Mary disagreed.I like ordinary people because a certain amount of education makes some people very conceited and only real scholars or mystics realise that the more we know the more we realise our own ignorance.Will such folk like makeup?
Perhaps one of the psychoanalysts will be a mystic,Annie retorted loudly.
But would such a person want to visit us? Mary bleated childishly.
Why not? They have to eat and they may need a new love interest or someone sympathetic who will know how hard their job is.Someone like me,beautiful funny and willing to look after a man when he needs it.
How about a man who might look after you,Mary said brightly
Well,it’s not quite the same.I like looking after men whereas you prefer reading about Fourier series and infinite integrals.And knitting patterns,she added hastily as if omitting that interest would severely anger Mary.
I think we’ll invite two men and two women ,all single.They can bring their cats for Emile to play with if they want.And we’ll eat in the kitchen to make it more relaxed.
Thank God,said Mary as the dining room was full of paper and books.
Why don’t I have a study,she pondered.Or ,if I slept in the dining room, my bedroom has a lovely view and I have an old desk somewhere.
Mary ,in her younger days, had often moved the furniture around and had even slept on a camp bed on the lawn one summer but she no longer did this as looking after Stan had worn her down to a shred of her former self.
But beds do take up so much room.Without them ,the house would be quite spacious.And how about tables and chairs… her mind ran on as she quite fancied a new start without moving house.
With fewer clothes ,she could ditch a wardrobe… on the other hand ,she could not afford such quality clothes again on her widow’s pension.
To think she might have to stop wear Bowlands of Wrath was a rather painful thought.Still most of humanity have got hardly anything so maybe Mary will think more deeply about donating some to Oxfam.
Suddenly the doorbell rang.Dave the paramedic was outside
Are you both ok?I’ve not heard from you lately,he remarked as he powdered his nose.
Well,I do have an old desk that you can carry upstairs for me,Mary told him thoughtfully.Then we need the floor scrubbing.I’m sure the NHS will pay.After all dirt might make us ill!
And so pray all of us

In the window

I was sitting in the window of a coffee shop called Joe’s

I was sitting in the window when the rain turned into snow

I saw my own reflection in the glassy window panes

When my reflection smiled at me, I thought I was insane

When I looked again there was nobody out there

Then I saw my sister she was looking very fair.

She gave me lots, of money, it was silver it was gold

She sat down here beside me, she grabbed my hand to hold.

You’ll be alright now baby because I am here with you

I was fragmented and flying, then she brought me back to earth.

Everybody’s fragile but we know what we are worth

She put me in a basket, holy Moses, where’s the Nile?

She said she got my number and she’s put it in my file.

I am happy I am sad cancer drove me mad

I felt fifty shades of grey but it’s not entirely bad.

I’m still alive I’m still alive and I will sing my songs.

So she went into the kitchen and soaked up something wrong.

Good is bad and loss is gain. Whatever shall we do

We’re coming back with Cohen, he can sing the blues

My sister

My sister’s eyes were sea green and deep

Like pools in the Irish sea off the coast off Anglesey.

Moelfre where she swam ,despite the cold,

Like a small seal.Night times I told her stories,

She lay and dreamed them till schooltime

But we grew beyond my storytelling

When adolescence drew us apart.

Years later

As I sat with her child

At my knee,

Weaving stories for her

Around the Russian horse

From the antique shop in Aldeburgh,

I saw my sister leaning towards us,

Her green eyes full of long-lost yearning.

I realised she was still my loving little sister,

From long, so long ago, her green eyes,

In the deep caves of her inner sea ,filled with longing.

I felt she wanted to get back

Into the magic circle

Of the arms of the mother we

No longer had to hold us.

So, I took her inside my heart,

And hold her  there always

Compulsory deodorants in the UK

If the government gets its way anyone who smells can be put in prison.

I wonder who defines exactly what constitutes a smell? If you are wearing a perfume like Poison some people might think that is a smell.

Just looking for new meaning to the phrase

Poison is dangerous.

Come to that being alive is dangerous especially for the homeless. Where do they imagine they’re going to have a wash and apply a deodorant?

Come to think of it they might prefer being in person as they will have showers and regular meals and definitely a bed

But I would have thought you’d need to commit some kind of a crime to get put in prison and smelling however unpleasant is not a crime as yet.

I don’t like the idea of a policeman coming to my house and asking to sniff my armpits all my crotch or will there be some kind of a distance like can their smell me from three feet away or two feet away.

Maybe if it’s only that they smell you when you’re 10 feet away I think will be a crime.

And in any case I thought Britain’s prisons were overcrowded. With middle aged women shoplifters, and.. starring pregnant women and men who soft it was a good idea to break the window of the supermarket just to get .. a few bottles of brandy and a glass of red wine.

I hope they don’t put babies in prison because they often smell even from the best homes

The solution is this that they should put everybody in prison straight away and then there will be no more crime at all.

There will be sin no doubt but there will be no crime because you can’t commit crime in prison can you?

Of course this will break up families,.. friendships and lovers.

Churches will not be needed…. Most shops can close down and altogether it will save a lot of money because you won’t have to pay for your own heating anymore nor food.

The few people who are not in prison like the royal family might be a little bit lonely but they will get used to it and some of them might deserve to be imprisoned might I add nervously.

Well think about it …it makes sense doesn’t it

Before  and after

Before you and after you

There was a world with no you.

Before you has gone and after you has only just started

Before you there were parents brothers cousins

And after you, who is left but me ?

There is no red fire with a whistling kettle

There is no mother knitting

There is no father polishing shoes

Not even a cat playing with wool

After you I am still here but am I still me?

I thought that you were part of me but now you have gone.

After you, after all,I am alive.

My old phone

I found my first phone in the drawer by chance
C 1 -01, a Nokia, coloured pink
Memories of my flower photographs

We look but we don’t see,oh,happenstance
Now I shall pour out the tea and drink
I found my first phone in the drawer by chance

I saw cats and dogs but no giraffes
Now I might just sit to muse and think
Of memories and my flower photographs

We walked around those gardens holding hands
Saw the iris and the rose.oh God be thanked
I found my first phone in the drawer by chance

You preferred the sea shore.edge of sands
The waves ran on our feet, the fishes winked
Oh memories ,oh all our photographs

Like the fish, you also sent a wink
Just before you died, a smile , cheeks pink
I thought you looked much better,but no chance
Blessed memories of our lives in photographs