Emotions flow like music in the mind A humming deep within the very self Even in our sleep the patterns wind Transformed to opera,images and health
The hum of children’s voices is benign Two and two are four, oh Alice knows Who has made thes minds so well designed? Who has suffered well the pain, the blow?
Cut out the music, worship reason pure Kant the human suffered it in shock And in his way he wandered as a cure Konigsburg with bridges was well stocked
Freed up in our humming, glad to hear The music of the heart, the dark, the spheres
We are swimming in deep water,deep and green I am coming towards you with my fingers stretched Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
The deep sea has no sun, yet we can see The retina is waiting, ready,etched We are swimming in deep water,deep and green
I see your face and eyes,how well they gleam Do we have to undergo a test? Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
Underneath the ocean are strange scenes I will tell you later, we are blessed We are swimming in sea water,deep and green
Our fingers meet, our lips share silver sheen We float in circles, weightless is our flesh Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
What will happen, what shall we do next Inspiration,grace, we are perplexed We are floating in deep water,deep and green Our bodies pale as fish, our soft hair streams
The end of values, kindness, earned respect The loss of wisdom,history and truth The pillars of democracy are cracked.
The centre of the heart,who can protect? Conspiracy and madness unseat proof An end of values, kindness, earned respect
Violence is admired though lives are wrecked The lasting triumph of the folk uncouth The pillars of the Western Mind have cracked
Their minds unfurnished seem bereft of tact They tread on others words like horses’ hooves The end of values, kindness, earned respect
How can such opponents make a pact? The calculating crucify our youth The pillars of the Western Mind have cracked
Yet Western Empire builders had no ruth They tortured those they conquered group by group On such ground just madmen earn respect The altars of the Western Mind have cracked
The fallen sun makes black the trees that lean Its liquid centre thrown up wild and bright Enigmatic like a midday dream
The pinky edges shift in sun’s bent beams Do they convey the aura of the light? The fallen sun makes black the trees that lean
I wonder where my haunted eyes have been In the forests deeper than the night Enigmatic like a midday dream
Schizoid, lacking affect, a slit scream Destroying what is left of love and sight The fallen sun makes black the trees that lean
Here we saw wild primrose by the stream The castle of the Tudors soft in blight Enigmatic like a midday dream
Bewildered people kill their own insight Toss their fears , into the weak to bite The failing sun as pure as boiling screams Enigmatic are our midnight dreams
I was walking in a desert grey and bleak All alone, with none to speak or eat I shuddered when I realised the truth I was unmarried, pregnant, mere refuse.
Cast out for other failings all unknown My baby came too soon and I alone A doctor with no face appeared and said Your baby died ,I see he’s never fed
He flung my baby on his heap of dead I lay there in the dirt, red with my blood I had to leave or I would die of grief The will to live just stronger than a leaf
I went to see my baby, and he smiled He was still alive, my love,my child I took him in my arms, where should we go? I walked into that darknessfull and slow
If you came back you would not understand The death of virtue ,truth and beauty too And to advertise it,tell lies on demand
In my childhood, that bewitching land Respect brought out good character to view If you came you could not understand
Writing with a stick upon the sands Up the tide will rush and wash out truth So ,to advertise it,tell lies on demand
Evil,slick , obedient Eichmann stands No human is as mighty as the noose Coming back you would not understand
We can split an atom, yet be bland Drop another bomb on human youth To hide our sin we tell lies on demand
Once we worshipped Pan with horns and hoof Now we worship Satan,God’s own proof f you came back you would not understand Media will tell lies and make demands
I dreamed of you last night, you wore a smile Fifty years ago you took your life And left me for the agony, the trial
Since then I’ve had no vision but denial Your face was absent,cut out by a knife I dreamed of you last night, your little smile
There was no motive, we had never quarreled I was blinded, nervous and too shy You left to me the agony, the trial
Who consoles the woman left in horror? Sickly on my lonely bed I lay I dreamed of you last night, you wore a smile
In my view, I could not see tomorrow Through my suffering I did try to pay You left to me the agony, the trial
The grief of fifty years came out today Oh, lay down, baby, lay down, baby, lay I dreamed that you were here, your face. your smile You console me now poor lovers reconciled
Aldeburgh,Sizewell,Dunwich Heath The nuclear bomb shall bring eternal peace Housed between the town and the Reserve Its blackness is ignored by little birds If force deters, then we shall all be saved Or this our world will vanish without trace Innocently playing on the shore Children find old marble unrestored
Birds may sense the blackness of our hearts For, even though unused, the bombs take part They are here where Britten once composed And so the sanctuary ends unsaved,destroyed In between the lover and his rose A screen electric in the silence glows
Before the referendum Before I rang 999 When I didn’t know how near the end you were
Before Nigel Farage Jo Cox The lies of Michael Gove Before Boris Johnson’s genes left Turkey
Before Leonard Cohen sang,save the last waltz for me Before I heard Suzanne Before you haemmoraged the bathroom into wine Before you consecrated the bread Before you were dead
Before by a journalist we were led Before children said,fuck everything Before Cohen died Dylan got the Nobel Prize
Before aspirations were merely for another shag and a new denim hat Before marriage was for licking each others’ groins What poems fell dead And the snow fled Before the hatred of slow reading came and glued itself to our minds Then we had the hottest September In December And the ice cap floated down the globe Observed by toads
When you were still alive And the lawn was unmowed
Do not rush about when under stress You may fall and bang your tender head With agitation caused by business
Rather than do more, we must do less Do it slowly till it’s time for bed Do not rush about when under stress
Do not ruminate nor second guess Grace is blocked,imagination led By agitation caused by business
Slowness leads some space, so slowness bless In tune with nature, not the words we read Do not rush about when under stress
If you are a hare,keep from excess If a tortoise,you’ll end up ahead No agitation caused by business
The lilies of the field by grace are fed And so our hearts are when our burden’s shed Do not rush about when under stress With agitation causing grief to living flash
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times in a very real sense. Mary dreamed Stan was in heaven enjoying the company of Wittgenstein,Jesus and Pascal , not to mention Lady Jane Grey Ann of Cleves,Juliet,Cleopatra and an angel. At least at this point in time he can’t sleep with them ,she thought as she woke up.Though did that matter? Can men be faithful and monogamous? Look at Leonard Cohen.Was he better off flitting from flower to flower? Was he so stunning that women threw themselves at him and he could not resist?Sometimes people are actually afraid of intimacy or feel life is short and want some new experiences.Was he a wolf? It t akes one to know one It was indeed almost the worst of times when Mary remembered she had no food in the house except cat food for Emile.He was all she had now as her daughter Lyra lived in Australia and Stan was in heaven, she hoped. Here I am, she thought, pondering unanswerable questions and not looking after myself .It is probably best to err on the side of buying food and going out rather than lying in the bed wondering if life has any inherent meaning. or if we must create our own. Even discussing that with someone else would be better.But men folk don’t want to discuss serious topics with their lovers. It was an even worse time when she recalled a man who once loved her leaving her because she asked him if he knew what post-modernism was one night after going to the cinema to see a comedy.She realised then that she would have to play a part,To act like a woman.So far it was but moderately successful owing to her myopic view of life If only I had kept quiet, she told herself,I could be lying beside him now enjoying a few kisses and hugs and asking him how to light the electric fire.Still ,there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip Now then, said a loud voice.Stop ruminating and get up. One stitch in time saves nine. Who are you to say that to me, she called nervously ? She wondered of stress had driven her round the bend.She had begun reading a book which said mental illness in not an illness like flu. It is a reaction to bad events and other life strains. It doesn’t matter who I am,just do as I say, came the answer Mary recognised the voice.It was her dad who had died when she was 9. Dad, she called, why are you here now? Because Jesus told us to love our family, he revealed pleasantly. Why now after all these years? she persisted. I have missed you. I always did have a bad sense of direction,he told her.But do as I say.You won’t recover easily if you never get up.Stan is here but he is busy cleaning the gold cutlery for an angel. Alright, but I never knew there was cutlery up there, she murmured as she put on her new clothes.She had bought some purple trousers and two new jumpers.One was pink and one was teal.The trousers were exceptionally comfortable being in a last years’ sale by a famous label..She then found some Weetabix in the cupboard and some long life milk.As she drank her tea she admired the acer’s brilliant red leaves. Almost too bright, she thought.It’s due to the hot September.Plants are affected by their environment and so are we.Especially by bad or hot tempered men and women Poor people may have more than in the past but they tend to live in the ugliest areas of the town with no gardens nor parks. And seeing the better off walk by wearing expensive clothes it is surprising there are not even more muggings. She recalled seeing a man with a Rolex watch and gold earrings on talking on his new iPhone as he wandered through the Mall.I suppose we think everybody else is like us; we don’t mix with very poor or very rich people on the whole.Unless we are one of those two types. Mary went outside and found a neighbour wheeling in her bins. Thanks ,Tom, she cried.I wondered who it was.I am very grateful.What is post modernism,by the way?Nobody will tell me. Emile was watching from the window sill. I knew it was Tom, he mewed. But you didn’t tell me,Mary replied. You didn’t ask. Tom wandered off ,while Mary admired the autumn trees lining the road.Tom turned back and looked at her but she didn’t notice. Time for coffee, she muttered and went inside again.She was embroidering a table mat which said “Rumination is for the birds”.Where it had come from was a puzzle.But it may be a good thought
He thought I was an enemy , he said The eyes see what we fear or what we need I gave him love,but hate grew there instead
If you need to hate, try someone dead Do not say cruel words that make us bleed He thought I was an enemy , he said
Do not dwell where people hate the good If they curse, it’s best to pay no heed I gave him love,but hate welled up instead
Emotions mingle, wanton like fresh blood Let them be till form can be perceived He thought I was his enemy , he said Do not confront the paranoid nor mad The agony of their minds has them deceived We give them love,but hate wells up instead
Never take such people into bed Let them run away, they’ll be relieved. He mistook me for an enemy , he said I gave him love and care now I feel bad
Astounded by love’s impact, my tears fell As if a door was opened up by you The reservoir of grief, the flooded bell, The marble on the shore, the hidden view. I stayed still and by you I was held In your golden cloud, I felt embraced You covered me with warmth,I was your child A candle in the gale,a shining face
I was silent,I was even dumb They who see a face can not unknow Love is not a method nor a sum Nor can logic point the way to go Do not ask for knowledge or belief Do not ask reprieve from human grief
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 Croal when 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 fallen off the sloping roof
Trees lean over,watchful as we meet The tall ones do not shiver in the breeze Trees can hear the torment in our speech We have flowering cherry in our street But mine died like my lover with great ease Trees lean over listening as we meet
The tree won’t bend too close, it will not reach As panic,worry, horror,nightmares squeeze Trees discern the music in our squeaks
Alas, no tree has mastered human speech But when they can, they coax the honey bees Trees lean over sweetly as we meet
The leaves will rustle,wrestle and may tease Smile for selfies,what’s the word, it’s cheese Trees lean over, wonder, and conceive Yet trees hate noone, nor do they believe
Defend yourself with fences and high walls Then cringe in fear from what you cannot see Imagined there are monsters which appall
Pain has purpose, for attention calls With more defence,less possibility If we defend ourselves with iron walls
We may have windows but they are quite small Closed or partly open,which to be? Imagined are most monsters that appall
Our reflections flash in mirrored hall~ And on the ghastly surface of dark sea That we can’t defend with any walls
Are we sinners, was there any Fall? Can we give the stranger Charity? Are we ourselves the monsters that appall?
From the world of kindness do not flee Take more risks, though slighted you may be Defend yourself with fences and high walls Then you’ll get your Fuhrer, mobs ,Hell, Heil
In my despair I felt that I was stuck Paralysed by grief and guilt I failed By the end I had tried every trick
From prayer unthought to deeps of logic black My life, my engine ,juddered off the rails I hated God and of “his” Church was sick
Starving and alone I was in shock The death of one I loved had made me frail By the end I had tried every trick
I felt love’s arms around me, death to block I knew this goodness, why else would I wail? I thought I hated God but Love had struck
Warm and golden light that did me hold Where are you now when refugees die cold? Kind despair that made me long time sit By the end I knew Love needs no trick
