Category: villanelle

When love and hate can enter no debate

We  draw a map of love inside our minds
Before we learn to speak and separate
And hatred too is structured by these lines

But owning such a map can make us blind
If we use just that to navigate
We  draw a map of love inside our minds

Some have mothers  tuned in and most kind
The map’s a good description of estate
Hatred too is structured on these lines

But some experiences we cannot bind
When love and hate can enter no debate
We  draw a map of love inside our minds

We need to let both love and hate combine
The pain and anguish may be very great
Our  mind is  better structured on such lines

Some may  think our life is made by fate
Others learn by how they correlate
We  draw a map of love inside our mind
And hatred too, is structured by those lines

 

The image of his face retreats from me

The image of his face retreats from me
Not fading but withdrawing like a ghost
Till  the light  within his eye is all I see

No longer can I hold his hand today
Or be enfolded in his arms at last
The image of his face retreats from me

How he wished to lie beneath this tree
The maple so majestic in its post
The light within his eye, oh can’t I see?

He is gone and how can I now be?
“Till death us parts”, I can  but barely grasp
The image of his face retreats from me

Soon comes now the  anniversary
And only his long hand I wish to clasp
Till  the light  within his eye is all I see

Oh do I waste my life at this repast
Shall I pray for who is there to ask?
The image of his face retreats from me
Till  the light  within his eye is all I see

 

 

 

 

So cats feel proud of their unique access

Do cats feel proud of their unique access
At any time they  need a loving touch
On the laps of humans whom these cats possess?

They may stalk off  or lingering caress
Then bite  the hand that gave to them so much
Do cats feel proud of their unique access?

When  cats are lost it gives immense distress
To owners who by loving them feel rich
Theirs the laps that these dark cats possess?

Evolution’s brought to them success
As proud, they eye the world where they insist
They are owed  their  full, unique access

In a  home, a cat will  miaow, God bless
While rubbing  on our ankles with odd nips
Asking for the laps that they possess

I have even known a cat to kiss
As if to total intimacy pushed!
So cats feel proud of their unique access
To the laps of folk whom these  brave cats possess

Marks upon a page

The wonder is that marks upon a page,
Letters made by ancestors long gone,
Create the symphonies of peace and rage.

Untutored genius of primitives afraid;
To whom their many gods were never one
We wonder  at the marks upon this page,

Let  us not their memory degrade
Nor criticise them  worshipping the Sun
We ‘plait together all our love and rage.

And if our growing up has been delayed
If we fear  the Good  as yet unwon,
We can leave our writs upon the page.

For we are often lost in  shadowed caves
And effort may by shock be quite undone
We make embroidered cloths of wisdom aged.

Own our guilt so sinners are not shunned
Own our joy if happiness is won.
The wonder is that marks upon a page,
Can bear indignities of peace and rage.

 

 

 

 

Contemplated  simply with the eye

The mundane is the main part of our life
We do not note the wonder of each day
And waste it when we  cause unneeded  strife

For then we  in the dens of envy writhe
We could have peaceful hearts and live our  prayer
The mundane is the greater part of life

Contemplated  simply with the eye
The mundane changes when  attention’s paid
We waste our life when we   enjoy fierce  strife

To do our work  relaxed we might then  try
Leaving violent effort  to the crazed
The mundane is the greater part of life

Is it so  hard to love  that  hearts reply
We shall not open up for we feel grey?
We waste our life when we   provoke  fierce  strife

 

With the mundane, we look deep and cry
There is  great richness in   each  little life
The mundane is the main part of our life
We waste it when we  roam about unblithe.

 

 

 

To living where there is no hint divine

The geese which I  once loved no longer fly
In their unique  geometry  so fine
Above the school fields  through the empty sky

Some locals think that “immigrants” came by
Trapped the geese and ate them with dark wine
The geese which I  once loved no longer fly

In the morning  I would  hear their cry
Heading South in that great V shaped sign
Above the school fields  through the empty sky

Onto   fresh  water , London’s first supply
The River New flows down the contour lines
But the geese which I  once loved no longer fly

In  the muddles of suburbia, we find
Conserved places lingering,  benign;
Like the  old school fields  below the empty sky

Never must we humans be resigned
To living where there is no hint divine
The geese which I  once loved no longer fly
But the school fields  house wild birds  beneath this sky

God’s position nobody’s divined.

God reached a position we can’t find
He moved  astute and humorous through the air
Being human we are almost blind

A game beyond the games of Wittgenstein
The willing player  has found a wondering flair
God’s position,  nobody’s  divined.

Impossibly  the  paths of nuclei wind
Cast a glance and upset the whole air
Being human we are violence blind

We cannot cast a light on his designs
Infinitesimal eyings push the photons where?
God’s position  nobody will find

From unknown spaces, love  and hate  combine
The light divides ecstatic,pure,two,bare
Human , we survive by being blind

Love God if you will, it is a dare
Powerful, vivid as leaps a March Hare
God reached that position we can’t find
In the Arctic wastes of our own minds

 

 

 

At the edge of reverie and dream

At the edge of reverie and dream
In the dusk or dawn, the edge of life
We catch sight of  images  sublime

The fantasies, the daydreams, how  they seem
Elusive yet eternal in  their  strife
At the edge of reverie and dream

Are they wishes, we’re too scared to deem
Part of our self,  defensive how we shy!
We catch sight of  images designed.

Prophecies of futures  not yet seen
They tell a truth as they flow swiftly  by
At the edge of reverie and dream

Life at these dusk times is slow and green
Aversive to the tempo of  new times
We catch sight of images that stream

Can a writer catch this theme in rhymes;
Write it down in short and telling lines?
At the edge of reverie and dream
We  fish our pictures from this image stream

 

A song is sung, sprung with the babbling I

The mind is like a river as it flows
From small beginnings to unending sea.
Endless and elusive  what it shows

As in the mud, the stark blue iris grows
So with life itself,  from dark we see
The mind is like a river as it flows

The boat rides on the surface as it goes,
From what once was to what is still to be.
Endless and elusive,  what it shows

Before we learn to speak, the music holds
The   baby and the mother company
The mind is like a melody  that flows

A duet  comes to life and life it moulds
A song begins sprung with the babbling I
Endless and elusive, life to show

In lucid realms awakening, we enfold
The many parts of self that outward cry
The mind is like a melody  that flows

Come now sleep, where dreams of mothers stray
Engaged with all the fathers of desire
In the mud, the still blue iris grows
The mind is like a river in full flood

 

Smaller than the pebbles drowned sea moist

An agnostic yet I need my God
For many parts of life cannot be voiced
Without the sacred language, I learned of.

More a place  and less a cruel Rod
Willing us to have the rights of choice
An agnostic yet I need my God

Lesser than both lower and above
Neither is he man, nor girl nor boy
In the sacred language I learned of.

Greater than  the mountain tops  of love
Smaller than the pebbles drowned sea moist
Me, agnostic, yet I need such God!

Wilder than a stallion newly shod
Quieter than that little, still, small voice
In the sacred language I learned, read.

As by our own science, we are hoist
There’s humour in that  secret, still embrace
I agnostic, need  to walk with God
And use the sacred language I learned  of.

 

When love is offered like a sword or threat

When love is offered  loudly like a threat
When tact is missing from the offered words
It fills my heart with terror and with dread

We all  need boundaries on our estate
But to a stranger, they look bare and blurred
Then love is offered  loudly like a threat

Can we imagine, share a stranger’s bed
When all our fears of overwhelm are stirred?
That fills my heart with terror and with dread

Slow and caring is the way to meet
When humour  and true dignity are shared
Then love is offered  kindly to our sweet

Elusive is the path to the unsaid
A trip into the briars may leave us scared
The journey makes us stronger, eases dread

An unknown force within my soul has stirred
And to that mystery I am allured
When love is offered  slowly, it’s no threat
It takes away my  terror and my dread

 

Who decodes the angels’ wings, now crushed?

If you’d like to write a villanelle
Try simple rhyming verse to start you off
You need two lines that rhyme and scan as well.

I like Dylan Thomas Celtic’  soul
Do not go gentle, go out very rough
If you’d like to write a villanelle

What’s the topic, whose the need to tell?
Penetrating words like bullets rush
You need good lines that rhyme and scan as well.

In your writing, do the words compel?
You need to read, then haunt a  burning  bush
If you’d like to write a villanelle

Reading feeds you words that shape and mould
While songs  fine music  time will never crush
You need good lines that rhyme and scan as well.

Who can see the fire in god’s  real love?
Who decode the angels’ wings, now crushed.
If you’d like to write a villanelle
You need two lines that rhyme and scan as well.

I bit the cat

New cats today
I bit the cat because the cat bit me
Yet I was  wrong for this will  make him worse
Now I shall be tried  for harming  fleas

A cat may bite from curiosity
I was wrong to   swear and even curse
I bit the cat because the cat bit me

I forgot to buy the carrots and the peas.
Neither have I  booked the cat a hearse
Oh, no I shall be tried for eating  fleas

 

Learn  my lesson, it is  almost free
My cat has died and it will hit my purse
I bit the cat because the cat bit me

I have no cat  to sit upon my knee
No longer will he linger by the hearth
I always thought that puss would outlive me

I feel I have destroyed my moral worth
No longer should I dwell on this sweet earth
I bit the cat because the cat bit me
Where’s  our love and whose the victory?

 

 

 

Can human sacrifice expunge our sins?

I felt the sun’s heat on the wheelie bins
The plastic lids and handles stung my hand
The rumbling wheels made their own  ugly din

I bumped my leg and nearly burned my shins
This work is more familiar to a man
I felt the sun’s heat on the wheelie bins

They spoil my garden and  ignite my pen
I wish the PM would issue a ban
The rumbling wheels made their own  ugly din

 

Can human sacrifice expunge our sins?
Grenfell Tower, a Death Camp I see now
I felt the sun’s heat on the vicious bin.

Men in power fought red tape, grumbling, grim.
The sacrificial victims died by fire or blow
The voices of democracy grew dim

A neighbour said they’re  illegals, eeh by gum,
So as they burned, no one will ever know
I smelled the smoke of Auschwitz rippling in.

Where thou goest , I will also go
The Christian world sure writes a damning show
My heart cracked and I fell into the bin
They grumbling  made their own   darned ugly din

 

 

 

I fear that they will hatch

The menu’s very limited today
The eggs so old, I fear that they will hatch
The bacon’s off ,the bread is green and dry.

Have a cracker, they look quite ok
The cheese is blue, here you are, just catch
The menu’s very limited today

The ham is here; oh, no I tell a lie.
I’ll warm baked beans if I can find a match
The bacon’s off ,the bread is green and dry.

Do you recall the Fray Bentos steak pie?
A tin only the starving could unlatch
The menu’s very limited today

I wonder could  I get protein from flies?
I cannot bear the awful thought, I flinch
The bacon’s off , the bread is green and dry.

Can I order pizza by the inch?
Or how about I fry the frozen mince?
The menu’s very limited today
The bacon’s off , the bread is green and dry.

 

 

Elusive inner presence, other me 2

Elusive inner presence, other me,
Those bubbles on the water surface tell
Of life we cannot  speak about  nor see

We have many layers, currents pulled
Dynamic, swaying, living, dark unquelled.
Elusive inner presence, other me.

The philosophers like Langer will agree
A symbol is as deep as any well.
With life we barely  speak about  or see

A mermaid’s tail may flicker from the sea
The  rhythm of waves our senses well compelled
Elusive inner presence, other me.

 

Humanity is like  a living tree
If one leaf falls there is no plangent bell
For what  we cannot  speak about  nor see

A coat embroidered three dimensionally
Will seize our eye and heart and soul as well
Elusive inner presence, other me.

The inner one  must live in privacy,
Betrayed by none in marvelled secrecy.
Elusive inner presence, other me,
A life we  barely speak about  or see

 

 

What an undertaking,  how he’d laugh……

What an undertaking, what a drug
Better even than a cup of tea
To write 8,000 posts upon my blog

I did not know for I began in fog
I’d write all this stuff on here for free
What an undertaking, what a drug

9  years when my loved one suffered, dragged.
The final months were almost agony
So I wrote 8,000 posts upon my blog

Sometimes I felt  his doctors should be flogged
It is our   careless ,sick society
What an undertaking.I need drugs

If I meet a new man, is that  luck,
Or shall I pack my bags and screaming flee?
I prefer to  write new posts here on my blog

I paid the undertaker  their huge fee
I brought the ashes home, where still they be.
What an undertaking,  how he’d laugh……
I  found my way through  travails on  this blog

I had the perfect avocado pear

I had the perfect avocado pear
My loved  one used to love them more than I
In olive oil, but otherwise quite bare.

I hate dead fish; their eyes so coldly stare
My loved one always had an eager eye
I had the perfect avocado pear.

I won’t eat fish not even for a dare.
I like a salad, which benignly lies
In olive oil, but otherwise quite bare.

My husband took me  some place Super Mare
The ice cream booth was home to MI 5
I ate that perfect avocado pear.

I don’t know  just what a  woman spy can  wear
A bathing suit might be a risk too far
Bathed in olive oil, but almost bare.

I wish I were mature while still alive
Like Stilton cheese or port beatified
I had the perfect avocado pear
In olive oil, but otherwise quite bare.

 

 

We must look to find out what it is we lack

There is a serious earthquake in our land
From cyber crime to fire  or wild attacks
The tremor ‘s  greater than we understand

No more may we keep our  thick heads in the sand
We must look to find out what it is we lack
There is a serious earthquake in our land

No fairy queen can wave a magic wand
If the outlook’s really nighttime black
The tremor ‘s  greater than we understand

We assume the government has plans
But now we see they’re vying to be sacked
There is a serious earthquake in our land

The uncertain note of terror’s underlined.
Theresa May pretends she’s voted back
The tremor ‘s  greater than we understand

Where shall we observe the first bleak crack,
For it may lie way off the beaten track?
There is a serious earthquake in our land
The tremor ‘s  greater than we understand

 

 

 

 

 

Moral lacks

Now Camden Town is emptying 5  more tower blocks
Exactly what did the government cut back?
Austerity led  them onto  evil tracks

We ought to put our “leaders” on the rack
Yet they are well defended from all flak
Now Camden Town is emptying 5 more tower blocks

If we look around, our politicians  flock
Round a ” leader ” who would turn the sunshine black
Austerity led  us onto  dangerous tracks

 

The farmers say the fruit cannot be picked
The “migrant” labourers  will not now come back
And Camden Town is emptying 5  more tower blocks

The children here must feel very perplexed
As adults   run like lemmings on hot bricks
The tracks led to short voyage and shipwreck

I wonder what Ms May does when she’s vexed
Her face will split apart and her wits crack
Now Camden Town is emptying 5  more tower blocks
Austerity ,forced on us, was  moral lack

In the bitter, dark blue morning hours

Jesus’ body burned in Grenfell Tower
And many others died along with him
In the bitter, dark blue morning hours

The Government and Council, how they cowered
The volunteers made beds up in a gym
Still Jesus’ body burned in Grenfell Tower

With love and kindness, common people  flowered
While  ministers were  too afraid  to come
In the bitter, dark blue morning hours

The  half elected leader with  shame showered
Saw   the drama,  then withdrew shrunken
While Jesus’  hung and burned in Grenfell Tower

Now will  lambs rise,well will  lions roar
As we see our ruined kingdom done
In the bitter, dark blue morning hours,

Human rights to tragedy fearsome
Will show the world what horror we’ve become
Jesus  died with those in Grenfell Tower
In that bitter, dark blue morning hour

 

Where once we enjoyed many songs all gay

“The end is nigh” those preachers used to say
To scare us into being born again
I have a hunch they may be right today

We’re coming to the Final Act , there’s no  replay
This Play is ending, ladies, gentlemen
“The end is nigh” those preachers used to say

Where once we enjoyed many songs all gay
Now we listen fearful for Big Ben
I have a hunch the end may be today

Someone may be made to pay
But it’s too late to put the lid back on.
“The end is nigh” those preachers used to say

Let our politicians stay or die
They churned us up like food processors make scones
I have a hunch the end may be today

This neo-liberal  fantasy made claims
That free markets would make the biggest gains
“The end is nigh” those preachers used to say
I have a hunch they may be right today

 

For willed control  spoils what it hopes to find

I want to live and feel I am alive
The carelessness of  politicians  fills my mind
In  a better state, my  writing  thrives

What actions I can take, I shall decide
When all the thoughts inside my head unwind
I want to live and feel I am alive

Like little fish, my thoughts should slowly  glide
But they have stuck and   wound me in their bind
In  a better state, my  writing thrives

My focus  tightened up, I need it wide
Else my thinking will  be dim and  blind
I want to live and feel I am alive

Relaxation  is a better guide
For willed control  spoils what it hopes to find
In  a better state, my writing  thrives

Can the poor relax and trust in God?
[A metaphor  for what we can’t speak of]
I want to live and feel I am alive
In  a better state, my  writing thrives

 

 

Escalate  your glances peeved and sour

Is this a democracy which careless kills
By war or by ignoring its own poor
The undervalued, refugees, the ill?

I know it’s easy  just to ask for pills
Or of the mind unconscious make a tour
Is this a democracy which careless kills?

Get  the Prozac, get more  truly chilled
Escalate  your glances peeved and sour
Upon the undervalued and the ill

Virtue comes  to those who’re of good will
Yet evil is a swamp much easier
And from there cutting corners leads to kill

If God exists then she no longer tells
Satan is more innocent than we are
Go tell the undervalued and the ill

Wealth  and gold has had a great allure
Embedded in our screens it’s easier
Is it  democratic  to  build such towers
For the poor  who have no strength no power?

The terrorists are  those who rule our land

The terrorists are  those who rule our land
More killed on Grenfell Tower than London Bridge
14 London  fire stations shut down

Now May says   she will learn from what is found
How did fire spread from one faulty fridge?
The terrorists are  those who rule our land

Boris Johnson acts like he’s a clown
He called cuts to fundamental safety  privilege
14 London  fire stations shut down

For nine years now austerity has frowned
The   money for policing has been grabbed
The terrorists are  those who rule our land

May said that Human Rights might now be pruned
If you ain’t got a Passport, get one fixed
!4 London  fire stations shut down

Mayhem  comes when citizens feel robbed
The wealthy reckless feed the frightened mob
The terrorists are  those who rule our land
Boris acted, fire stations shut down

 

 

We, refugees, must come to love alone

Underneath the shallow pools lies sand
Where shells are  fractured by the ocean’s blows
We learn soon what  being alive demands

To bare feet on sunny days beckoned
The warm wet trickles in between the toes
Underneath the shallow pools lies sand

In whose sums is our living reckoned?
Calculation, not so bleak it shows
We learn by pain, true living makes demands

God allows the  abacus unchained
To sum us up as if we are unknown
Underneath the  pools,  are these his hands?

Who will be allowed and who detained?
We, refugees, must come to love alone
We try  to be alive, despite the pain

Our hearts are fragile shells, not heavy stones
We, soft flesh enraptured by framed bones.
Darkly on the  beach we humans stand
The fretting waves cry out with love’s demand

 

 

 

 

I miss you, love, so slow the seconds wind.

It seemed to me  my vision and  my mind
A template to project into the world
Brought you into being by my side.

I miss you, love, so slow the seconds wind.
I crept into the space between the words
I  made you in  my vision and  my mind

Is there only chaos, no design?
Are we dust around the spaces whirled?
I bring you into being by these lines

I smell your skin and see your eyes alive
I move my head but you have disappeared
It seems  both from my vision and  my mind

Why did all the pit props fall down blind?
I crept under  black  coal, with darkness smeared
A  person alien to humankind

Where is my death, when it’s no longer feared?
Where is my love when no-one else is here.
I imagined  you in  vision and in mind
I  pulled you into being, now you’ve died

 

 

 

The sacrificial victim overwrought.

Humans can be classified like nuts
To give a new  description  on us all
Some are soft and some hard to split.

Some of us have walls like prisons built
Some of us  divide  what might be whole
Humans can be classified like nuts

This simile is bad so I shall quit
Yet I might have discovered were I bold
Our defences keep us hidden  in a script

Some of  us are fat, some have no butt
Some are hot and some feel  freezing cold
Humans can be classified like nuts

What our parents said’s not Holy Writ
Yet we do need boundaries to hold
Our defences keep us hidden  in a script

We act the part that we unconscious caught
I might be the black sheep in the fold.
The sacrificial victim overwrought.

We are all  mere creatures who might fall
Like Eve who shared the apple with us all
Humans can be classified  like ducks
Some are deft and some  get cruelly struck

 

 

 

Corbyn’s  very wise to make plum jam

So Corbyn’s not the fool who makes plum jam\
Reviled by all the media  up to now
Yet he’s hurt the Tories with his thoughtful  plans

Raised on protests over Vietnam
He did not  falter, hit by  multi-blows
Corbyn’s not a fool who makes plum jam\

His own party’s Elite were out for him
They sought again, again to make him go
He mocks the Tories with his clever plan.

 

Jack Horner, I recall, got out the entire plum
Will Labour’s  bosses wish for him to go?
Corbyn’s  very wise to make plum jam

As he washes out his  cast iron pan
He chuckles with delight which overflows
He mocked the Tories with astounding plans

Old man May puts out their wheelie bins
Theresa May  resign! Your dread won’t win
Corbyn meditates as he boils jam~
He’s  bonked the Tories with his iron pan

To love well  is an art we can enact

To love well is an art and is an act
Yet we must bear in mind this valued truth
We need a little space in love for hate

We also will not leave outside our tact
Indeed, of love,  that is the final proof
To love well is an art and is an act

A love match is not where we check our mate
Nor do we leave the imprint of a hoof
We need a little space in love for hate

A fight, a quarrel, disagreement, fate
At times we both appear  to be uncouth
To love well is an art we learn to act

When frenzy fades and wonder’s a  mere hint
We long  for that once honeyed sweet ,sweet mouth
We need a little space in love for hate

To love forever we must take an oath
That we will not, of our power, go boast
To love well  is an art we can  enact
Oh, leave a  home there for our wild, wild hate

 

Intent with purpose,scarcely is life real

Intent with purpose,  we  don’t see life whole
We see the figure but ignore its ground
We have one thought, to reach our  chosen goal

This way of life destroys  our life and soul
So shadows, shades penumbra lie unfound
Intent with purpose,  we don’t see life whole.

Outside our  mind,  our thoughts like brothers brawl
Leading  to conclusions  quite unsound
We  only wish to reach our  chosen goal

Yet beauty, love and wisdom come to call
We ignore  the universe unbound
Intent with purpose,  we don’t see life whole.

Moreover, sudden danger may befall.
We need the owl’s view, broad and narrowed down
We   wish  for nothing but our  chosen goal

The hawk too sees both focussed and in whole
To be  far too intense makes us a clown
Intent with purpose,  we see not those who maul

 

We see not the bridegroom as we drown
In disconnected fragments lose our crowns
Intent with purpose,   scarcely is life real
We have our thoughts; we’ll die  rather than feel