When you’re lonely

Posted on February 25, 2020 by

img_20200128_105515Mary was feeling lonely on Sunday so she decided to go to the Urgent Care Centre in a cab.There were not  many people there but enough to give her  2 hours  in the Waiting Room.Having signed in ,by claiming to have a  UTI, she took off her red coat  bought  in 1992 in  a Sale, and opened her phone.What to read?

Hitler’s Downfall
Quick Cakes
A few novels by Margaret Drabble
Freud the Fraud
Sex  crimes in  therapy
The rise of Fascism in Europe
How to care for a husband
The Second Sex
Feminism and Sexual Orders
How to enjoy your body before it is too late
Differential operators and their followers

After 2 hours Mary went to the Unisex toilets.While inside she hear her name called
I’m in here, she shouted.
Take your time
She handed the kind doctor her sample which was very pale
He went out and came in again
You have a nasty infection, he said calmly
What shall I do?
We have some antibiotics here on Sundays.The pharmacy is shut
Thank goodness
He went to see what he could find and  handed her a box of pills
It wa nice to meet you doctor, thank you.No wonder I felt odd
Yes, it makes you feel confused and  less smart
Indeed.I  meant to  go to Church but came here by accident
How lucky
Mary went outside and  ordered a cab
Well, that was a blessing, she told herself until she saw Annie dressed in purple velvet running down the corridor followed by Emile on a bicycle
Well, that’s what I saw before I took those pills

Posted in feelings, fiction, humor, Thinkings and poems | 1 Comment

No words

Posted on February 25, 2020 by

If we had no language,we’d be good
No communication but by sense
What devil conjured up the  demon word 
Made our dealings complex and intense?

No Tower of Babel, nothing but mud huts
Caressing,kissing,kicking,  real contact
Boxing,wrestling,killing the unjust
No law except the fist. no guilt.no wrack

No religion but  a sense of awe
The rising sun, the moon, the distant stars
Oh,bow before the Cedar and the Oak
Anything that is taller than we are

No  books, no news no media,no war
It makes me wonder what live words are for

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An old drawing I found

Posted on February 25, 2020 by

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Image | Posted on February 25, 2020 by | 4 Comments

Banal to hide the strife

Posted on February 24, 2020 by

Wandering roung the local brancb of Boots
Shall I buy  a moisturising cream
Maybe Astral, or E45 ?
Many choices, who  can bear to dream?

Shall I wear  red lipstick  dye my hair
Boots or shoes, a skirt or velvet shorts
Trousers of black wool  or  sky blue tights
Shall I keep the baby or abort?

Shall I take an M.Sc. in Art?
What about my car,shall I replace?
Which man shall I marry or repulse
Will the baby  now have  grown its face?

Underneath the common wastes of time
The real concerns are pushed out from the mind

 

Posted in sonnet, Thinkings and poems | 3 Comments

Happiness was like a golden shawl

Posted on February 23, 2020 by

The pebbled beach  on which we walked at dawn
The sun was dancing  singing  stone to stone
The sea was pale as silk and gently ran
The tide was coming in, the day began

Why is my memory so deficient here?
I remember little but you near
I remember Portland Bill at dusk
The sea was wilder then with many thrusts

Happiness was like a golden shawl
A  world like Eden, man before the Fall
Today they say, illusion, I say, no
What matters  is where this insight makes you go

The fruits of meditation are its test
May we be generous, may our souls be blessed

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No defeat

Posted on February 23, 2020 by

Letting go of all my self defence
As if I might touch all of you at once
I opened up my body to the winds
And covered you  by lying skin to skin

In the cradle of my  being held
Like an infant  needing mother’s aid
I did not move to break the chysallis
Both of us were melting in that space

Whose the hand and whose the mind  that work
Metaphors may  guide  and also hurt
Remorseless is the process that goes on
Until the new forms break this one to one

At last the work is done,  the task complete
Dead or living, this is no defeat

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The astral body

Posted on February 23, 2020 by

Tenderly I held him  took him in
As though we touched each other skin to skin
Dying is what everyone must do
Even when it splits the Me from You

What we took for granted  every day
Had its end like any mortal’s play
The length of life is just enough to lie
It’s not here forever, don’t you cry

We are on no plateau   but a slope
Slight at first, so we don’t  see and note
Gently we are led to where it ends
Beautiful and foolish  like ourselves

How can we be split when we are one?
In deep darkness dies the winter sun

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Like babies

Posted on February 23, 2020 by

Sunday dinner. roasted  spuds and meat
Yorkshire puddings, gravy,pepper,salt
These are what the English like to eat
Though microwaves  may bring it to  a halt

Roly poly,syrup sponge and cream
Apple dumplings,marmalade on toast
Men adore hot puddings gently steamed
Though who will  have the time to be a host?

Now we buy sponge puddings ready made
Bread and butter custard ,raisins,hot
How did  women manage in past days?
Spotted Dick, brown sugar,that’s the lot

We seem to love the sweet yet we are rude
Still like babies, ignorant  and confused

Posted in poetry, politics, sonnet, Thinkings and poems | 1 Comment

The labour and the  hurt that life will cure

Posted on February 23, 2020 by

I found a pair of knickers on the chair
They must be mine,oh dear, that is bizarre
I did not take them off,I am quite sure
They make the entire room seem quite impure

Yet why are knickers   thought to  be like porn
When they adorn the  place where life is born?
If you  hung the washing out to dry
You might see an angel in the sky

Most of us traversed the  holy path
We suffered pain but hope it did not last
Mothers too have struggled and endured
The labour and the  hurt that life will cure

The simplest items, pretty, well designed
Tomorrow I shall hang them on the line

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Fortunately, he cannot bite

Posted on February 22, 2020 by

I dream  at nights of my old friends
My husband and his loving hands
I dream of all the cats we  had
Alfred who slept on  the bed
He laid his head upon my foot
As I wrote  a poem of love
Jimmy who was small and black
She  bit my hand if I got up
I did not wish to wet the bed
She did  not understand  a word I said
The last night  here she gazed at me
I think she knew  she would  not be
Lucky was the nervous  one
Black and white , apartheid none
He liked my husband’s shoulder dear
He draped  himself  and lost all fear
Now the cats have all gone off
I am frightened by a cough
My husband comes to me at night
Fortunately he cannot bite
He  touches me with tenderness
Smiles and wished me,God Bless.
When I waken I feel lost
So I have to wear a watch
I seem to have no solid self
I feel nervous of an elf
I don’t mind an angel sweet
He could rub my aching feet
I will have no other man
They  are frightened of women
They don’t like to lose at Chess
They don’t like  to wash my dress
They will brush my winter coat
Never ask me what I wrote
I do not wish to anger men
They might shout  and bawl again
I think maybe I will turn gay
Ask a lady, what to say?
They may not understand my needs
Killing flowers to  help the weeds
Talking all the weary night
On the whole they’re parasites
Also they may menstruate
I can’t  give them seeds  to  take
So they will leave and  get a man
This is where it all began
Eve and Adam,God and man
Cain and Abel, apple flan
Noah and his Ark so fine
I wish I had one in the rain
I wonder when the world will end?
I am old so be my friend

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Beyond

Posted on February 22, 2020 by

Of Genocide.  who could sing or write
Just silence,impossible and stark
Yet was transmuted in a   poet’s mind
Into a dance of final light and dark

Walking to their death by Mozart’s  sound
Their special prayers were offered,what great trust
In Cohen’s mind   the source of love  engraved
Like Job  before, he knew the sacred dust

Mysterious is the Lord with his demands
Christians went to  Mass, reviled the  Jews
Few of us  will suffer, understand
Past pure reason ,feeling…God  help who?

Beyond  that flickering  candle  flame called God
We see the shadows lost, we see the Dead.

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Cliches

Posted on February 22, 2020 by

He got his hooks into my   bleeding heart
He trapped me with a  stone which had no moss
In Plato’s Cave I saw but shadows long
I wondered why I let him be my boss

All my eggs were in one ovary
I had no baskets  in my abdomen
More haste has made me  backwards in my tasks
I did not know my husband was a man

Innocence prolonged  led me astray
The early birds  had stolen all the worms
Well,  let tomorrow be another day
My utter foolishness has made me squirm

The time for preparation is  a need
Not much good has come from haste or speed.

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