https://www.johnwhitwell.co.uk/therapeutic_fostering_-and_therapeutic_care/what-is-institutionalising-for-looked-after-children-and-young-people/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/intimacy-path-toward-spirituality/201808/why-its-ok-seek-reassurance

A map’s a guide to find a world

Knitted by angels, plain or pearled,

And though you need a map as guide,

Keep your own eyes open wide.

I spent a year caught in a map

Until I found a big enough gap

I crawled out through this exit slit,

So here I am , like some half wit

Words can act like heroin,

You live so high, where I have been.

But onto earth, I gladly fall.

The air the sun the rain is all.

My senses are my lovers long-

My ears, my eyes, my skin my tongue.

The winds caress my naked flesh,

To dwell on earth is all I wish.

I’ll live with mice and birds and plants,

I’ll share my food with miscreants

I’ll keep my words inside a tin,

And only, now and then, go in

I’ll live with cats and spiders three.

And like a wild flower grow quite free.

I’ ll give my words to those who hear,

And eventually, I’ll disappear

Earth to earth, then ash to ash

When soaked with rain I shall disperse.

My atoms wing like butterflies,

And to the Flower I’ll fly, disguised

The dentist wants to charge in advance in case I die in the chair

Surely it’s not electric?

Not the first time apparently.

Is it not murder?

I don’t know I’ve never been murdered 

Have you ever committed suicide?

That’s murder too 

So that’s a No?

Yes.

,
The rich may not be cruel, but they are blind
They don’t know how poor most workers are
They do not mean to sin or be unkind

We all have our defences, undefined
Unconscious of our malice, their despair
The rich may not be cruel, but they are blind

The unemployed, disabled, are maligned
Without a proper voice , this is unfair
Who does not mean to be at all unkind?

Men have toiled for years in dark coal mines
Glad to be at work but often scared
The rich may not be cruel, but they are blind

The poor are growing reckless, unresigned
Jerusalem, what has your Lord to say?
Which human does not mean to be unkind?

Ignorance is not the ideal way
Give money to the outcasts as they sigh
The rich may not be cruel, but they are blind
They do not know they’ve sacrificed their minds

I breath as softly as a little bird
Like the robin did in Arnside Wood
Quick yet calm, who for some food would dare.

The view from Arnside Knot is  broad and fair
The atmosphere is  pure, we see trains chug
The Estuary of the Kent will never bore

Further South the Lune runs like  old tears
Morecambe Bay endangers, how it floods
Behind the Pennines rise,   the edges  fierce

Dent is ancient, mobile phones won’t dare
To penetrate  the  music of  its blood
Nor bring   their tones to hurt the mad March hare

Hutton Roof , cathedral, how we stared
A gentle hand caressed my heart to good
Meek flowers grew in the cracks  as safe,as  pure

How my heart expands  and I am glad
For mourning heals and  I am no more sad
I breath as softly as a little bird
I tiptoe on the path  the peace is shared

Armageddon  comes and we don’t find
The time to stop and think and wonder at
The wrath of God, the thunder of his mind

Is he  the ground of   being undefined?
The earth where seeds are nurtured  by his  hands
Armageddon  comes and  we are blind

He is not  a sweet and compliant friend
Nor the lord of  rich and  fertile lands
His  the wrath  and his  the thunderous mind

As the storms washed men off Kentish sands
So God  hurls the energy he sends
Armageddon  comes and  we are blind

In these trials, whose hearts are refined?
Are  we open, can we each attend,
His  the sun and his  the mighty mind

As on the rocky path we wary stand
Below despair, we find the deep commands
Armageddon,  love and care are drained
The  grief of God, the  pity of his mind

Allocking means killing time

.Agate means at wotk in Bolton dial

That’s killing time

Am allocking agen today
That’s killin’ time, as now we say
Ah,shud be agate but oh ah can’t
Work ‘as gotten ‘ard teh find

Ma mammy’s ill and she’ll soon die
I must wear a suit and tie
Allocking meks me feel ill
Did mother make a legal will?

Am all allooan up on’t Pike
Rivington is weear folk hike
Am all allooan and ah feel low
Allocking is touch ‘n go

Where’s mi daddy an’ ‘is pipe
Where’s dad’s jacket,full ah smoke?
I want him back ,mi mam’s alloooan
You ‘ed wonder at ‘er groans

Where’s mi cat and where’s mi dog
Where’s ower’ handmade fireside rug?
Made ‘eh rags and hooked through cloth
Eeh, won’t God be filled with wrath?

God is never all allooan
Never allocks, he’s a stone
Amno bettin’ ‘eaven exists
That’s why all wa men get pissed

But ah’ve seen Hell ,oh Ama sure?
Nothin’ yooman shall endure.

As Mary

ate her topside with green peas,she gazed out of the front window where a police car was parked.They had gone to speak to her neighbours.Her neighbours had 23
dogs and a dead cat .all in the back garden for recreation and making holes in fences or other places
When Mary had come home from the delightful dentist she had been attacked by 5 of the dogs on her own patio
who were bored with their own garden so has made a hole in the fence as was their wont.
She sat silentky her mind brooding about animals,and their force, as she ate the last roast potato and wondered if she had a pudding
Suddenly a cold wind seemed to blow across the room as Annie her delightful neighbour
had run in without closing the back door firmly
Hello dear.Put the kettle on for me, Mary ordered Annie
I am sorry,Annie said,I have lost weight but even so the kettle won’t fit me
Why do you take things so literally,Mary asked?
I am trying to be funny, Annie muttered indecisively, her blood red lipstick melting down her chin and dripping onto the floor
Good grief, what a mess,Mary said.Hang on, your lips are bleeding
I keep biting them,Annie revealed.
Why?
To stop myself screaming at those people with the dogs.What will you do?
Her mascara from Mix Vector in dark brown began to melt and created streaks across her rose beige moisturising foundation from Bess of Arden
Are you crying,Mary asked curiously
I must be.I have tears in my eyes.I am over-identifing with your feelings.
Empathy has its limits,Mary said sweetly>I phoned the police and they came here
They were amazed he has 23 dogs.They have gone to see him.
How can they afford to feed so many dogs?
Oh,I feel faint,ring 999
In ran Dave the bisexual, transvestment paramedic all dressed in tartan
Why are the police here, he asked anxiously
It’s about the dogs attacking Mary.
Shall I make some nice strong tea,Dave asked wisely
Good idea, said Annie
How is Emile taking this?
I’ve sent him to my sister’s for a break,But I miss him
Goodness me, what a terrible time you are having
They all went into the lounge and sat down on the grey high backed armchairs
Here is the tea,Dave cried as he put the tray down on a low table.Don’t let it go cold~
Shall I give them some cake, he asked Mary?
Why not, she answered.See what you can find
It is very hard if neighbours attack you,Why, I’ve even read about murders at times like this,Dave cried.
Let’s see how it goes,Mary said quietly.They are not fools
I hope you are right,Dave said wisely
Rolling Stones never get mopped
Evert cloud has a silver lining~
When glum ,keep mum
Ah
Amen

Was this the apple then, your mother’s breast
Which father thought was his to oft caress?
And when, in deprived rage, you bit to test
In rage, he vowed to ever you harass.

So then you learned that you could hate as well,
The punishment struck hard in your small heart.
Your memory was unworded, could not tell;
Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart.

As unknown as the journey to your birth
As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong.
As frightening as the gauging of your worth
As sudden as the ending of a song.

Impossible to foretell or to prepare,
The ambivalence of our hearts can start just here.

The prying minister

The chancellor of the unchequered

The foreign sinister.

The whoring time waster.

The leader of the Rout

The prime time waster.

The reader of the of the louse.

The dismembered parliament.

Remember how mad we went.

The designed argument

What we pay attention to grows.
Whilst our other seeds lie here unsown.
The evil tree towers,
Over the bankers ill powers.
It’s a haven for vultures and crows.

Let us examine our gifts.
The race is not all to the swift.
We each have our talents
With patience to balance
Each life is an art made with craft

Every person with mental health problems was once more afraid than they could tolerate when they were a baby.

And their psychic structure represents the gallant attempt to allay the intolerable feelings by the inadequate means at their disposal

https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/hide-and-seek/201811/what-is-wisdom

Mary was sitting feeling quite lonely in the waiting room outside the doctor’s office when she saw Emile hiding under a chair..
What are you doing,she whispered.I’m glad of your company
I jumped into your cab, the cheeky cat informed her proudly
I want to be there when he examines you.
Don’t worry,she answered,they always have a chaperone nowadays.
Just then a pretty young black nurse took Mary into a room and said to her
Take off your underpants,please!
I don’t wear underpants,said Mary,but I can go home and get my husband’s if you want me to.
We use underpants as a generic term,the nurse informed her in a kindly yet menacing voice.
Wow,they are so intelligent nowadays,I don’t think I knew what generic meant till recently Mary told herself stupidly thinking of the hours she had spent trying to grasp infinitesmally small numbers as they flew by.
I have no underpants,Emile mewed.peevishly.
No and I am not making you any.I have quite enough washing to do already.Mary responded thoughtlessly yet maturely imagining Emile wearing a three piece suit.
It’s not fair, said Emile.All my friends have underpants and T shirts too.Why not me?
But the doctor came in and looked nervously at Mary and at her female parts.
Mary was used to this but all of a sudden she got a nasty pain when he opened the speculum out
Ow,ow,ow,she shrieked,what is that pain I got?
It’s ok,said the nurse,just old ladies are not used to this sort of thing.
I’ll have you know many older ladies are very used to sexual activity and joy but not when they are unaroused .Besides men’s organs are usually kinder than metal or plastic if and only if the lady is willing.Can’t you put more lubricant on the damned thing
The doctor tried to remove the speculum but was clearly agitated.
Ouch,cried Mary.Ouch.It hurts still!
Thank goodness I didn’t know it would hurt.Do you think we should be shown a romantic arousing film in the waiting room to make it easier for the doctor?
We can’t do that,said the nurse.We might be accused of running a brothel.
But the doctor is not paying me,said Mary.I am paying him, in a sense,as a taxpayer.
You are too clever for me,said the nurse sharply
I shall bring a vibrator next time,Mary told her,though she had neYou can’t bring a vibrator or the doctor will be angry as he might be accused of misconduct if you enjoyed yourself, the nurse whispered
I thought it was only misconduct if he enjoyed himself,Mary cried loudly
He has seen so many ladies, it is just like seeing into a mouth for him,said the nurse churlishly.
I expect one gets used to anything in time,Mary murmured,but I hope he will not do that again to me.
No, you seem ok,the doctor said,but I seem to imagine I see a cat under the table.What is he doing?
I am just keeping an eye on you,mewed Emile.I live with Mary.
No animals are allowed in here ,the doctor shouted.
A bit late now,mewed the cat.Are you sending for the cat police?
Dr.Grey picked up a very large speculum and threatened to strike Emile.
Now then,said the nurse, he might scratch my legs.Leave him alone.He’s just protecting her.
Fat lot of good he was,Mary thought.
The doctor approached Mary and told her she would be seeing a consultant soon… in the meantime should she do anything to prepare… she asked.
Well, do try to relax if you can, he told her gently.It is trying for ladies of riper years to attend hospitals but we only want to help you.
I’ll have to help myself,Mary thought wryly as she got down off the table and put on her red and purple knickers or “underpants” as they are now referred to as.
Thank God,that is over,she whispered to Emile.Let’s run out and get a cab.
She hobbled to the door and phoned the taxi firm with her mobile.I just want to get home she told the driver.
Don’t we all, he said in an Eton accent.Surely it’s not David Cameron in disguise canvassing patients?Thank God he’s not conducting pelvic exams on them!That would lose him the election whether he was any good or not… in my view,but then what do I know about the British electorate?

Hugh Mann-Beeing USA
Miss Anne Thrope -Argentina
D.Luded -England
D.Mented.- Ireland
Isle Loveyet -Ireland
Wyse Beyond-Words. -France
Miss Cal Culated -Hong Kong
Mel Anne Colly- USA
Deep Li De-Pressed.-China
Parr-Annoyed [Mrs]- England
P.Annic Attack – Washington
B.Adman- USA
Iam Sictodeath- UK
Diss Ordered-Mined -UK
Piece O’Mined. -Ireland
Can-Ned Slurp.-UK
Aldous.I.Lessin-Gaza -Palestine
Calle M’ Mother -Mixed race or Other
Didya Vote-Yet -Geordie
Cann Ye-Nacum -Teesside and Jewish
Hugh Lost-Face- England
Wear Stah-Bin -Lancashire industrial
Clara Then-Mudde- Buckingham Palace
Amy Goin-T’et Lav- Manchester
Pearson-Ally Diss-Order USA or Canada

–

Doctor,doctor,I;m worried about my coughin’.
What about your coffin?
Well,it’s keeping me awake at night.
Why,are you sleeping in it
I have only one place to sleep.
If you are tired you can sleep anywhere!
is that legal?
Of course, it is.
Well, can I sleep in the Queen’s bed?
In theory,yes… but you might frighten the horses.
Why, do they sleep with her?She must have a big bed.
Don’t be so ridiculous…
Well, she has loads of money; she, could have a bed made for her.
She has a bed maid for her
Do you mean someone makes her bed every day?
well,don’t you make yours every day?
No,I bought one in a bed store and it’s well built.
But do you change the sheets daily?
No,i never use paper I write letters on my chromebook.
Which letters?
Any letters at all,except French ones.
but they use our alphabet.
it’s not ours.
Whose is it?
Possibly the Romans.Tantrum ergo!
They are all long gone into their coffins.Uno,duo tres,quattore…,decem,duodecem,duagessin’..
I knew coughin’ was very dangerous
I think your grammar is bed.
What a posh excent you have
It’s all I have left of the old palace.
Well, never mind you can share my coffin if you like.
But is there a bed in it?
Just a bed bug as yet…
I blame the CIA.. who do you blame?
I blame God and he blames us so it’s pretty much a stalemate.
We need the Messiah…..
Not again,we’ve not got over the last one yet…
You make him sound like a hurdle…
Well,it’s one way of looking at it all.. a big hurdle.
It’s all this talkin’ keeps me awake at night…
At least it stops you coughin’

Doctor,doctor,the coughin’s keeping me up all night again
For goodness sake put the lid on it.

Paralysed by dread, my hand was still
Afraid to make a mark on that blank page.
I thought to make it move by force of will

I measured with my finger joints, [new skill]
Then with my charcoal,l I became engaged
Tormented by sheer dread, my fingers full

With charcoal, pencil, fountain pen or quill
Human down the ages have portrayed
I tried to make an image by my will

My body sweated like ten waterfalls well full
My eyes gazed and my mind became engaged
Touched by dread, my hand moved like a bull.

I’d measured, so I let it rush about unlulled
My eyes were pleased with this dramatic page
I thought I’d made it move by my own will

And so I am at one with every age
Promiscuous is my love but well arranged
Paralysed by dread, my hand was still
Until desire was stronger than my will

https://wp.me/p6JwBS-30

Come back to me, my sweetheart
Don’t leave me all alone.
Come back to me, my darling
I can’t believe you’ ve gone.
I’m crying ‘cos I’m feeling blue again.
I’m crying’cos I’m falling like a stone.

Oh, let me tempt you with my beauty
And my voice forever young.
Let me tempt you with my spirit
My laughter and my songs.
I’m crying ‘cos I never did you wrong.
I’m crying ‘cos with you I  still belong.

I thought maybe I’d follow,
To see where you have gone
But there’s a hand upon this tiller
That is not mine alone.
I’m crying ‘cos I wrote this old blue song.
I’m crying ‘cos I’ve been lonely for too long.

The hand upon my tiller
The mystery of the dark
The unknown one who lives in me
And sings like a skylark.
I’m singing ‘cos I wrote you a new song.
I’m singing ‘cos the cat ain’t got my tongue.

https://www.nationalhealthexecutive.com/articles/new-disorder-uk-PTED

My heart is like a rowing boat adrift
Whose occupant has fallen overboard

The empty vessel drifts through deep sea mist.
And in those pearl filled ears the deep sea roars.
Just as the boat drifts mapless, so do I.
My maps were drawn for quite another sea
My captain’s taken leave and now I cry
As if that drowned soul might just be me.
Yet on the sea bed mysteries abound;
Such wonders and such magic there displayed.
I wonder if it is my lot drown
And to a memory then quickly fade.
Maps are no more certainties than hints.
Between the lines hides gold from other mints

How white and blue together recollect us
to the summer sky and the imagined swallows
darting in exquisite geometry
under the great domed space of the heavens,
like the Basilica in Constantinople
containing and giving space.
And how I held you for a moment that was infinite
and then you were gone, like an angel fearing enchantment
into some finite boundaried world

O

Sometimes my hands curl up,
and other times,they open.
Then I feel the air;
My fingers relax.
I touch your hand;
uncurl it and press it to mine.
Palm on palm,it’s no secret
that palms connect to hearts.
In your face I see a hint of melancholy,
I feel it in my soul..
as if there was a secret connection..
thought how,I don’t know.
Somehow,touching, we create another soul,
Neither you nor I, but we……
Touching,need to be physical..
We know how a story can affect us that way.
What a gift to know we have touched someone…
In the heart.’s. most tender space.The place of love.
Both true and false,my palm is lonely.
Then I feel the caress of summer air..
To touch is to be touched
as one soul opens to another..
Vulnerable,human,loving,
Painful and illusory,like those dreams of childhood.
Now I go,first gripping, then loosening our hands.
Goodbye,we say,Goodbye

And musing all day sends us into a trance

A kidney infection makes oldies seem crazed
Delirium, visions and rushes of rage
It’s wonderful being so old and gay
It’s wonderful being so old.

A lack of agility means we can’t dance
And musing all day sends us into a trance
It’s wonderful being so old and gay
It’s wonderful being so old.

We seem to get shorter and fatter as well
I can’t ride my bike as my eyes are unwell
It’s wonderful being so old and gay
It’s wonderful being so old.

I’ve forgotten the topology and shape of a man
I’ve burned the front table and eight non-stick pans
It’s wonderful being so old and gay
It’s wonderful being so old.

The doctor helped me up a when I lay on the couch
He pressed on my kidneys and I gave a shout it’s wonderful being so
It’s wonderful being so old and gay
It’s wonderful being so old.

More polite than the English, more white than the Scots
They come here to help us as we need them lots
It’s wonderful being so old and gay
It’s wonderful being so old.

As poetic as Snowdon, as rhythmic as flow
The Welsh suffered so when they closed the old coal
Is it wonderful being so old and gay?
Is it wonderful being so old?

I don’t feel so well as mi Mam used to say
I can’t kneel down easy so now I can’t pray
Is it wonderful leading old fogeys astray?
Yeah, it’s wonderful being so old

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

My tender arms, I stroke and gently bathe
To soothe my mind , when near me there is none.
Do not leave me for the desolate grave
Do not leave me

For our humorous love ,I ever crave
A founding ground we have built upon
Do not leave me to whom love you gave
Do not leave me

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

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

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

You are smiling on the pier above the sands
The rippling waves stretch out like children’s hands
You look so strong I cannot comprehend
Your fatal illness and its grievous end
You were not a patient on dry land
You were living well and ” feeling grand”
We crossed the road ; I held your cold thin hand
I suffered so much torment,would I mend?
I saw a fluid shape as dark it pranced
Through the open door it swiftly danced
Slipped in with the wiles of Tudor kings
Hoping they can make it on the wing
I learned with grief , it came to take you back
Across the river wide ,my love, my lack

Your face is map enough for me,

Your smile, your frown, your gaze, your glee.

And if I want to know the rest

The shape your posture‘s made is best

For showing what your life is now.

A look, a gesture all this show.

Till who you are is then disclosed

And I am in your arms enrobed.

Love vanishes when analysed,

And thinking tooL by love’s despised’

Choose the means to fit the end

And then I’ll be what you intend