They are like some other beings altogether the cry more animal than human The wordless pathos, musical,disturbing They have gone back to a troubled and unimagined infancy but no mother responds to such a nightmare of overgrown voice boxes the cry of a rabbit wolf in a trap it’s the shriek in the wall cry of a baby in a psychotic nightmare. Nicholas haunts Sylvia in the evocative memory of Ariel And so it will end for you and me Trapped in this old body with its old brain on and on they cry help me, help me,help me nurse nurse I want the manager I want the manager I don’t want to be here I don’t want to be here I want to go home Help me we don’t listen because they have dementia what they say has no meaning. that’s our defence I am the norm You are abnormal but you smiled when I asked you if you would like your hair dyed pink and I know you love the music therapist. Your smell repels Alas Is this where Jesus dwells If you did this to the least of my little ones, you did it to me. We you haven’t forgotten about Eros you are still hoping to find love you are not dead yet but you can’ wait to go home Published by Katherine

age grief love Poem

Comments

I was diagnosed with this a few years ago and I have to take folic acid

As we get older it’s a good idea to have blood tests to see if we have any kind of anaemia or shortage of vitamin d or iron etc because it’s all too easy to label people as demented sometimes even fear can make someone appear to be demented as I saw with my husband when he had an accident

Today I’m  grieving feeling sad and lonely

Like the saviour said I’m feeling blue

Today I’m feeling nearly black and homeless

Every day I’m missing missing you

Everyday I think about your laughter

Everyday I think about your joy

I remember how you loved your little boys

You said my poems had got even dafter

Everyday I think about your garden

Everyday I miss your homely voice

I hope my tender heart will never harden

That is down to me and my own choice.

Everywhere I look I see your image 

My tears fall on the flowers like  gentle rain.

The world you loved so well may pay you homage

Love is wiser, greater than our pain

Just after you died I bought a new chair

I

Now it’s old, the armrest is worn .

I have sat on this chair for 10 years

But you have never come back

I have never watched the television again.

If the chair is worn, then how must I look?

I suppose joints of the chairs or id humans can wear out

It’s easy to buy a new chair if you have some money

Not so easy to buy a new joint for your knee or your shoulder.

Ask for the organs you can have a new kidney even the lung now .

Even the heart can be transplanted if it’s a good one.

We didn’t have a piano and now I regret it

Should I learn to play the recorder instead?.

Maybe a violin would make my neighbours realize I’m still alive.

That’s my ambition to get them to complain about something that I do like playing the violin upside down on the ceiling looking down upon them mournful and humorous

They have a large ginger cat but I don’t know its name I call it Ginger

Ginger does not respond to my voice but maybe a violin would help.     what do you think?

https://www.theguardian.com/books/series/poemoftheweek

https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/poems/frozen-in/

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/health/nhs-cancer-diagnosis-gps-illness-b2856125.html

Trial by life has an unbearable twist
Sad days of darkness must come to an end
Trial by life’s an endurable test

Send for the minister,send for the priest.
With her long pointed nails ,she has her garments all rent.
This trial by life’s unendurable tryst

The priest is no longer either sacred or blessed.
The succession has faltered with bitter dissent
Trial by life’s an endurable test

The people must now to each other confess.
The Tabernacle’s empty ,for who paid the rent?
Trial of life, who can endure such a tryst?

We need to look into our own hearts that cursed.
We need to take shelter,though torn is the Tent
Trial by life’s an endurable test.

Who gives the verdict,which judge is not bent?
Who can decide whether we should assent?
Trial by life:what a blow ,what a fist.
Trial by life: the unbearable last

When first I saw your soulful face,
I wished to dwell in your embrace.
I wished as well to clothe you in
The sacred images within.

To find a home for love without;
To fold my dreams all round about;
Your loving body and your face
Were covered in such joy and grace.

I found my dreams were cast aside;
The world of meaning denied life.
What seemed most precious now is fled
As I lie sleepless in my bed.

What is the world when unadorned
With all that in my heart I’ve formed?
There is no meaning I can trace.
As in a mother’s empty face.

On these grey rocks. my path is hard.
From paradise, my self is barred.
To struggle or to grief succumb,
When this dark day of mourning’s done?

Into His dazzling darkness dart
My dreams and love like dying sparks.
Into His Mystery so fair.
I’ll cast both hope and my despair.

Thus my dreams will be transformed
To show themselves in other forms.
What feels a loss may foretell growth.
On my hope,I’ll take an oath:

“That nothing in my life is waste;
That I have not for phantasms chased.
And you are human,as am I.
Let’s live again until we die”

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 everyday

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

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/nov/01/margaret-atwood-memoir-extract-booker-prize-death-of-partner

It is customary to blame secular science and anti-religious philosophy for the eclipse of religion in modern society. It would be more honest to blame religion for its own defeats. Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid. When faith is completely replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit; when the crisis of today is ignored because of the splendor of the past; when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion – its message becomes meaningless.

Abraham Joshua Heschel in God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism

https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg13818697-200-mind-body-modes-of-mind-what-have-small-children-playing-with-dolls-in-as-edinburgh-nursery-got-to-do-with-buddhism-one-psychologist-says-she-has-found-a-link/

. “It is
in the second half of the book, however, that Donaldson asks herself that
‘very important question’: do the emotions develop in parallel with the
intellect?

She takes as her starting point the fact that many people report intense
emotional responses to works of art or to nature and, further, that many
also report having powerful ‘spiritual’ experiences. These kinds of experiences
interest her because, like the thinking of the advanced intellectual modes,
they seem relatively free of entanglement in ‘narrow personal goals’.

But such experiences are rarely the subject of scientific scrutiny.
So to study them, she is forced to look at how they have been perceived
in the past and how the world’s great religions, especially Buddhism, evaluate
and attempt to cultivate them.

She concludes that there are indeed advanced modes of development for
the emotions. Since these emotions are deeply significant for the people
who experience them, she calls them ‘value-sensing’. She identifies a ‘value-sensing
construct mode’, which is the realm of the arts and of religious myth and
ritual, and mirrors the intellectual construct mode with its scientific
thought. And then there is a ‘value-sensing transcendent mode’ which is
the realm of spiritual experience, and mirrors the intellectual transcendent
mode with its mathematics.

She describes these modes as ‘advanced in the developmental sense, in
that you can’t get them in the early stages of living. They are also perhaps
advanced in another sense, in that they have to be cultivated more than
the early ones. There may be flashes of either emotional or intellectual
insight, but to cultivate them you have to be systematic and disciplined
and you rely more heavily on teaching.’

Her ideal is to be able to move from one mode to another at will. We
may choose to think logically about a problem, for example, when that is
useful to us. In the same way, it can be useful to have transcendent emotional
experiences. ‘They put our personal goals into some sort of perspective.
By being more aware of our emotions and valuing them more, we might live
more happily and society might work better.’

She concludes by speculating on the possibility of a ‘dual enlightenment’
in which intellect and emotion are equally valued. If that happens, ‘we
may come to feel less embarrassed about and suspicious of transcendent emotion,
seeing it as no more ‘weird’ than the capacity for mathematical thought’.
Each of these, she says, is ‘a normal, though generally ill-developed, power
of the human mind’.”

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/a-negative-freedom-thirteen-poets-on-formal-verse/

Among the many reasons poets choose to write formal poetry in the 21st century is an intuitive distaste for the imitative fallacy. To write about chaos, one need not write chaotically. It’s only a minor paradox to say that discipline and constraint unlock freedom. Steele goes on to say that form-minded poets are assumed to believe that “the universe is a nice, neat, orderly place.” On the contrary, he says:

I suspect that most people who write in forms feel that the obvious disorder and chaos of the world afflict us intensely, coming 

http://not-yet-there.blogspot.com/2013/09/0-0-1-192-1097-nottingham-trent.html?m=1

How far does our openness to aesthetic experience, and new forms of knowledge, depend on our capacity to enter and indulge states of wonder and awe, doubt and failure, ignorance and play? How critical are these conditions to the creative process? How do artists invite the unknown into their creative practice? On Not Knowing brings together contemporary artists and thinkers from a range of disciplines to explore the role of ‘not knowing’ within the creative process. The state of ‘not knowing’ or engaging with the unknown is an important aspect of all research. For artists it is crucial, as the making process often balances a strong sense of direction with a more playful or meditative state of exploration and experimentatio

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2025/nov/23/highly-sensitive-person-discovery-label-validating

https://substack.com/@annelamott/note/c-170385510?utm_source=feed-email-digest

Is it a contradiction to say that the lonely seek for someone to be silent with ?

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/oct/31/the-best-recent-poetry-review-roundup

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/10/30/learning/word-of-the-day-rectitude.html

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/oct/07/the-poems-of-seamus-heaney-published-on-thursday-will-feature-all-12-of-the-revered-irish-authors-collections-alongside-25-previously-unknown-works?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

https://www.resurgence.org/magazine/article3284-the-power-of-language.html

The words a leader chooses are just as critical as their actions, writes Thomas Moore.

Peace and Love by Trevor Price. Image copyright: Trevor Price http://www.trevorprice.co.uk

“As a writer and psychotherapist, I have been using words carefully most of my life. While counselling a husband and wife, I notice that a single word can stir their emotions and take their conversation to a dark place they both know is negative.

If, for example, I use a word like ‘neurotic’ or even ‘troubled’ in talking to a client about his situation, he may feel judged and become defensive. On the other hand, a few honest words of appreciation can put a marriage back on track.

Words don’t just convey meaning: they are a force.

We live at a time when people are generally pragmatic. We want to be effective and we don’t care much about the words we use. We see signs of this carelessness in advertising, where grammar and spelling are secondary to perkiness and brevity. People drink lite sodas and are purchasing new tech (technology) for their business offices, and apps (applications) for their telephones.

Of course language evolves, but you can usually sense the difference between evolution and neglect. Smoothing out a word like ‘light’ into ‘lite’, we lose its history and associations. The word ultimately goes back to leukos in Greek and is related to leukaemia, a problem of white blood cells. We don’t sound the ‘gh’, but its presence there keeps the memory of the Greek associations.

In my own writing I try to find a midpoint between pedanticism and love of language. I know what I’m talking about, because I was once fired from a teaching position at a university in part because I didn’t write in acceptable academic style. Apparently, my words didn’t have sufficient or appropriate gravitas.

A Rumi story tells of a dervish walking past a deep well. He hears a voice:

“Help. I’m a writer and I’m stuck down here.”

The dervish says, “I’ll go find out where a ladder’s at.”

“Your grammar’s atrocious,” the writer shouts up.

“Well, then, you’ll have to wait there until my grammar improves,” the dervish says, and walks on.

I feel like the writer in the well waiting for grammar to improve. And not just grammar. I understand the Sufi complaint about being too fussy about rules of speech. I’m waiting, too, for a love of language to return, an appreciation for the words we use and for style and grace in expression. Like the writer in the well, I could be in for a long wait.

World leaders often use diplomatic language that hides the real meaning of the words, creating euphemisms that are outright dangerous. Describing slaughtered and maimed civilians as “collateral damage” is the classic example for our times, and it’s cynical in the extreme. “Enhanced interrogation techniques” for ‘torture’ seems part of the cruelty.

The bland and bloated language of politics blocks the opportunity for leaders to truly inspire and educate. Imagine hearing instead a thoughtful, measured analysis of the world situation from a leader, accompanied by intelligent, subtle solutions to problems. Instead, we get the tired and unimaginative language of war and militancy. Wars begin with words, so we should be careful how we speak, especially to nations where there is tension. Our words can heal the situation before the military takes up its weapons.

We could all have a rule that we won’t use words that come to us unconsciously and out of habit or that are in the common parlance of public discourse. Fresh words could help us arrive at fresh ideas, for there is an intimate connection between thought and word. Careful use of words requires careful thinking.

Sometimes I wonder if the language of progressive movements gets in the way of the message. I, for one, always stumble at the word ‘sustainability’. When I think about it, I know what it means, but it doesn’t feel like a friendly word. I’d rather talk about not being wasteful, or about using resources carefully and wisely. ‘Environmentalism’ isn’t such a friendly word either. Maybe we need a new, simple word or phrase – ‘care for the world’.

World peace begins with peace in the family. As a therapist, I’ve heard many adults recite hurtful words they heard decades ago from a parent or sibling. Care in speaking to children requires a degree of self-possession, the ability to see past the blind emotion of the moment to the needs of the child. Good words come from that greater vision.

For example, words of extreme praise can do wonders for the injured ego of a child or spouse. Sometimes it’s helpful to give words to what is usually left unspoken. “I appreciate what you did for me. I’m happy that you’re with me.” Simple, direct and felt words of praise, appreciation and gratitude often go unsaid, when they could be a handy means of healing. Words hurt and words heal”

“Fresh words could help us arrive at fresh ideas, for there is an intimate connection between thought and word. Careful use of words requires careful thinking.”

Thomas Moore

When poetry can help to ease the pain Tim Maguire on poems that may

offer solace while grieving ‘for a child that had not yet lived’ Letters ‘There are many beautiful poems available,’ says Tim Maguire. I was touched by Devika Bhat’s article about losing her baby (G2, 28 October) and shared it with my humanist celebrant colleagues. Devika says: “There is no established narrative around grieving for a child that had not yet lived and, it turns out, that is reflected in literature too.” She is right that the subject is rarely discussed but, because of what we do, we are aware that there are many beautiful poems available. Noteworthy examples include The Noble Nature by Ben Jonson and When the Heart by Michael Leunig. Sands, the stillbirth and neonatal death charity, has also published an anthology of poems written by parents and other family members called A Gift of Words. I hope this information can help anyone affected find at least some solace at this most difficult of times. Tim Maguire

If the hundreds of people from the USA reading my blog today continues I will close the blog temporarily

Mary sat in her living room crying virtuously and feeling lonely.

Emile her clever cat ran out of the door into the front street and went round to Annie’s their lovely yet frightful neighbour.

You’d better come round; mother is crying, the poor animal moaned picturesquely

Annie  was wearing a purple jumpsuit with green suede boots and their matching green scarf round her neck. Not leather but wool the leather might bebetter in the rain!

She followed the small but strong  cat into the bijiu house next door and immediately went into the kitchen to put the electric kettle on

Who is that said Mary thoughtfully?

It’s only me cried Annie kindlily

Whatever is the matter, Mary? Emile’s  so worried about you

Oh it’s stupid but I’ve just got a letter saying my ultrasound scan is tomorrow and I really don’t feel like going

Would you like me to come with you?

Well that would help but you see I’m worried because…..

I’ll let you in to a secret

All these UTIs have made my bladder weak and I’m worried that I won’t be able to go there with a full bladder

Well why don’t you go to the loof first?

No you can’t because the ultrasound scan of the bladder does not work unless it is fairly full because if it’s not full all the other organs crowd it away. That sounds rather odd like animals in the jungle….

But they also look at the kidneys as well and that’s both in that case or even if the bladder doesn’t show up on the scan it will certainly be able to examine the kidneys. And I won’t be able to wear my jumpsuit because I wouldn’t like to have to take that off in a room full of technicians and medical people

Well it’s like everything in life we need some advice so why don’t we ring 999 and ask Dave the paramedic to come round to help us with our discussion and see if we can give any good advice

In 10 minutes they heard the ambulance coming down the street with the siren blaring.  In ran Dave the paramedic wearing a pinstripe suit made of pure silk and wool and underneath it he wore a large pink bra stuffed with useful items that he couldn’t carry in his pockets in case it spoiled his suit

Mary  you shouldn’t keep everything to yourself so much because lots of people have to have ultrasound scans

You don’t have to get undressed if you wear elastic waisted trousers.

You can get some very nice incontinence pants in Toots the pharmacy you could even wear two pairs of them and if the worst comes to the worst then if you wet yourself it will be an opportunity for the staff to show how kind and understanding  they are. Maybe they will send you home more quickly in urgent transport and not make you wait for three hours or more like they did the last time you went to hospital,

I will see if I can pop by depending on my duties tomorrow.

Annie thought to herself I wonder if Mary is really worried about wetting her pants or is it she’s worried about whether she’s got cancer or some other mysterious disease. After all you can change your knickers and your trousers but you can’t change your organs easily especially when you are a very  very old person.

She made some lovely hot coffee and they all sat around the fire looking at photo graphs of North Norfolk which Stan had taken on their last holiday in Ringstead. Mary still missed Stan very much

Why am I not on the photographs mewed Emile the little  yet clever vcat?

Well that was before you were born Mary told him gently because if you had been here we would have taken you with us like we did our first cat Benjamin to  Brancaster

Well that’s giving me idead Dave cried

Why don’t we arrange a holiday in North Norfolk and I can drive you and Emile can sit next to me in a basket strapped to the seat

Oh that sounds a wonderful idea Mary cried joyously

It will be nice to have some future plan to think about rather than just  day to day worries of health and foods etc

Annie said why don’t we go to Wells next the sea

Yes that’s a very nice place with a shop that sells real Guernsey and Aran sweaters

Now everyone’s got central heating not many people want them but they’re very good for folk going out in boats to see the seals near Sharingham.

Well maybe we could go out in a boat and see the seals Annie answered him as she picked up the coffee cup to take them back to the kitchen

Mary realised that worrying was using a lot of her energy and if they were going on holiday she could spend the time planning her wardrobe as advised by Good hmGousekeeping fashion page

Until Mary  had read this magazine she had never thought that anyone would buy a special wardrobe just to go for a week’s holiday but apparently they do even when they’re not going to somewhere exotic hot or very, very cold like the Arctic circle

I think Annie will have to go up to Wigan to buy some of that makeup that they’re specializing in up there because she will want to buy eyeshadow and blusher to match the coastal colours of blue mauve gray pink and the sunshine colors of spring like the Hawthorne blossom on the hedges by the coast road running from King’s Lynn to Cromer

Well at least it seems that Mary has got something else to think about and the other two will enjoy it whereas Emile om may find it rather hard but he can always travel in someone’s pocket or a special bag

Is there such a thing as a cat rucksack?

Mary is good with her hands so perhaps she will make one un start a new trend

And so will some of us!