Before we were dead

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


Not the words we read

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 flas
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Cliches for all

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https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-squeaky-wheel/201306/the-seven-hidden-dangers-brooding-and-ruminating

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

And so say all of us

The eyes see what we fear or what we need

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

Is evil de rigeur?

Why should we do evil if we care
Care about the world and humankind?
What is evil, what is good, what’s fair?

To feel we’re God, implacable our stare
Igniting terror in a human mind
Why should we do that if we do care?

Some do evil deeds to show they dare,
Making their own heart a place malign
What is evil, what is good, what’s fair?

The truly strong are anxious and aware
Letting their love flow in reason’s time
Why should we do that if we don’t care?

The good are like the tortoise not the hare
Slowly with perception ,impulse reined,
Acquainted with the evil ,good prefer

The true mind is the one refined by pain
Seeking no revenge,but to so learn
Why should we do evil if we care?
There is evil, is it de rigeur?

Do not ask



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

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


The personality of trees

Trees lean over,watchful as we meet
The tall ones do not shiver in the breeze
Trees listen to the torment in our speech


We have rowan and 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 listen to 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

From the world of kindness do not flee


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

Love will need no trick

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

I may be a weed

Think of this, a weed still has its flowers
They may be small, like ivy  they may spread 
We must  display ourselves, not cower
Until  the   moment comes when we are dead

Does it matter that you hate my guts?
That you dislike my face so pink and white?
I am happy to deflect your bombs so hot
The nuclear  option seems so very trite

I am me and I may be a weed
The definition falters as we talk
Let us be judged by all our deeds
The sparrow  must be careless of the hawk

I no longer want your letters vile
Be gone from me and you will make me smile

Holy heart’s affection,beating pulse

One single tear   expresses  love and loss
Dramatic storms  excess may make folk pause
Who  will notice  one tear and its  cost?

A little stone near water may grow moss
But only mountains bring a sense of awe
One single tear   expresses  love and loss

Grief  must not wallowed in, like  baths
Philosophers not hurt  their minds   uncaused
Who  then will  observe   the tear,  the  cost?

To an ant, a pebble is quite gross
To a widow, death has hungry jaws
One single tear  may   show how she is lost

The entire self is  tear-filled  like  a marsh
We weep  till love itself becomes remorse
Let  one tear out and hide its  anguished cost

The heart’s affections use  poetic laws
Holy  circulation,  blood that draws
One single tear  falls down like bladed grass
Who  will care for  this tear, bear  its  cost?

 

 

 

 

Like an oboe singing as I pray

Precisely when we fell in love’s unclear
I knew your humour and  your eager ways
I  can’t imagine  when you were not dear

The deeper is the love, the more the fear
That one  must go, the other one must  stay
Exactly when we fell in love’s unclear

All alone, it is your voice I hear
Like an oboe singing as I pray
I  can’t imagine  when you were not dear

I see you in the room I know you’re here
I must not look, or I shall have to pay
Exactly when we fell in love’s unclear

I see your head  lean onto mine so near
From my reverie I must not stray
I  can’t imagine  when you were not dear

As we ambled, wandered on  our way
I did not know the ending of our Play
Precisely when we fell in love’s unclear
From this world’s creation, you were dear

 

 

Stitch the world together

Heal your own neurosis ,let go shame
Why should you  be less because you ache?
Stitch yourself together without blame

Have you got the problem with no name?
Have you made a billion weird mistakes?
Love your own neurosis without shame

Be  with other people when you can
Listen to them talking,  you may shake
Stitch yourself together without blame

We all get wet when wandering in the rain
Dry another person for love’s sake
Live your with neurosis without shame

Do not worry that your soul is stained
Keep the pieces when your own heart breaks
Bring yourselves together without blame

It is not Xmas yet but make a cake
Share good news,accept what is now fate
Own your own neurosis, let go shame
Stitch  the world together, that’s our aim

Fortune favours the brave

Why fortune favours courage I don’t know
But if we’re too afraid, we do not see
We hate  so much that fateful heavy blow
Cringing, shrinking, with half closed eye
As if our vision’s blocked by heavy snow
We are  more brave when others share our view
Fortune favours courage, yet be slow
Fear  makes sight a tunnel, sadly true

Virtue rendered void

Envy poison, friend of vicious hate
We know Cain for he still lives within
Society is built on hellish states

If not so, how can we lay love waste
When time is short, why cut it down with sin?
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate

Do not  hide it, saying  this is “fate”
Through brilliant Sylvia,Ted  asked spirits in
Marriage too is built on awful states

Only with her death, did he relate
One had to go to let the other win
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate

We suffer when we  think  that we need fame
All paper one day ends up in a bin
Society  too is built on loveless states

Comparison and judgment are  no game
Virtue rendered void, our hearts are lame
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate
Can society be built on other states?

 

Welcomed by God’s eye

Dwell  inside your heart and breathe  just so
From there your spirit body  can outflow
Spread this round your loved one like a shawl
No need to  make a sound for  love will call

Two are one  like lovers in their bed
But now one has to leave , love cuts the thread
In  full silence ,  welcomed by God’s eye
They concentrate on  this  before they die

In  your  gracious  warmth they’re  feeling safe
As a child is in a mother’s gaze
Time  no longer matters. we’re elsewhere
Walking humbly ,softly i  to God’s stare

At last the work is done and   they are  free
Who can understand such mystery?

Trust the Unknown,trust the inner flow

The sky at dusk, my camisole , love’s grace
Blending blue and mauve in  skilled embrace
God the painter ,God the X unknown
Send  us light to see where our  our love goes

Drop by drop the spirit ebbs away
Now the sky is dark in stark blue-grey
In the mind the dreams  rehearse and scheme
Take away the terror and the screams

Hold us in your Hand as we let go
Trust the Unknown,trust the inner flow
Who but you can show us  what we need
As we crawl to bed  in   fraught unease?

Now the air is black I see a star
I feel the void  yet love dwells even there

I’ve got migraine in my heart

I’ve got migraine in my heart
Spasms of grief  constrain the flow
The poor go down and the rich depart

I just looked at my shopping cart
The tower blocks lean, the street lights glow
I’ve got migraine in my heart

I’ve got eggs and milk and tarts
The poor can’t sleep  and their children snore
The poor go down and the rich depart

The teachers wish their work  could start
The benefits  system  overflows
I  felt pandemonium in my heart

In the sky  are  UFO’s
Where they go to I  may know
I’ve got migraine in my heart
The poor downtrodden, oh, damn  you Marx

 

Oh,Cumbria

Oh,Cumbria I wish I were with you
Near Ambleside, the stepping stones, the slate
The Langdale Pikes , the valley and the view

The sinking sands, the sprawling sea so blue
The tempting  path across the bay , it’s bait
Oh,Cumbria I wish I were with you

The  thunderstorms, the heavy clouds, the dew
Water is your element, your fate
The Langdale Pikes , the valley and the view

By Buttermere the waterfalls renew
My shoes were pools,my socks a Plathian plaint 
Oh,Cumbria I wish I were with you

I may be human,,I may be astute
My feelings, punctured ,let me lose my state
By Langdale Pikes , huge shadows   stripe the view

The sky is black, the candles  flicker,night
Fear and awe, I kneel  here , faith ignites
Oh,Cumbria I wish I could  see you
The Langdale Pikes , the cliffs,  the distant view