There was a young lady fromBude

Who used to sun bathe in the nude

Cancer was a risk 

That she put on the list

But she sometimes enjoyed being rude.

The was a young lady from Filey

Whose partner was inscrutably wily.

His genes were Chinese

His skin was a tease

She valued his touch very highly.

Another young lady was Dutch

She could walk without using a crutch

She tried the high wire

She fell into the fire

That’s what’s left when you  a high lurch

Ice

Iced water falls from the sky in beads

Leaving  just the space

for fragile butterflies to court between the drops.

The geometry of love

fits any space

The butterfly is  braver than the tiger.

There was a young woman from Bude

Who hated to stand in a queue

She lay on the ground

Until she was found.

And charged with fomenting a feud.

Then there was her sister in Kent

Whose bicycle wheels were both bent

Circles no more

They threw her to the floor.

And as these things go so she went.

Finally  meet Susan from Stone

She lives near the Pennines alone

She likes watching sheep

Climbing up the hill steep

And the sheepdog with a juicy beef bone

When Jesus was in the garden of gethsemena

He wanted some companion during the night but nobody was able to be with him.

I’m sure that some of us have had a similar experience.

So would a helper have said to Jesus

Why don’t you listen to some music I know the radio has not been invented yet but you are God…. So make yourself a radio and listen to music

Why don’t you turn your mind away from fear of death  I’m thinking about signing up for an art class,myself.

I know that Jews can’t worship images but there’s no harm in making some images was paint or pastels.

It might lift your mood..

Now Jesus, have you drunk enough water today? Have you had a proper meal?

(Well they had the last supper I believe.)

Don’t you think we should all go home and go to bed and have a good rest and forget about this event that’s going to happen?

Now Jesus what you need is a good holiday.

You know it’s not so far to Cyprus and it would be a break from living in this occupied territory.

The Romans have a lot to answer for.

And would Jesus have lost his temper and called out to the  disciples

Satan get thee hence.

Then somebody will just say, if you feel bad at three o’clock in the morning it’s often a sign of depression and I believe there are some new antidepressants on the market now.

Why don’t you see the doctor tomorrow and ask him can you have a free sample because there is no NHS in the holy land.

And that’s why Jesus stayed in the Garden of Gethsemane by himself because he did not like what his followers were saying to him. And it was all because they didn’t want to actually know how he was feeling: that he was sweating blood that he was afraid that he was terrified but he was going to continue on the path that he believed God had set him on.

And after all he was the son of God. So he believed and there is some evidence to favor that view.

And thus it did transpire

Belshazzar saw the writing on the wall
The words predicted death  and so it came
The mightiest king is not  preserved from falls

Is there  wisdom  in the deep that calls
True scholarship  is hard , to name unnamed
Belshazzar saw the writing on the wall

Even  blatant  evil, none appals
We have no  reverie,  we have no time
The mightiest king ‘s no  safer    with his gold

Counted,weighed,divided, aren’t we all?
The words in Aramaic  were  no  rhyme
Belshazzar saw the grave  there on  his wall

Once old ladies smiled  knit  infants shawls
They had joy  though death  came wandering by
The King  of Babylon  deserved his fall

Being alive seems  near to a  great crime
God may die yet love burns its small flame
Belshazzar learned the writing on the wall
The  humbler people are,  the  less the  fall6th Dec 2019Posted inethics, poetry, reflections, Thinkings and poems, villanelleLeave a commenton We have no  reverie,  we have no timeEditWe have no  reverie,  we have no time

Problem pupils

What shall I do with  a dilated pupil?

a) Send them to the Headmaster

b} Give them a shrinking glance

c) Look away

d) Go to an Eye Clinic

e} is she  having a baby? How can you see her cervix? Are you a doctor?

My glasses are reading  any advice?

A} You have schizophrenia

B} You are a witch

C} You  need an eye test

D) They are a surveillance device.Throw them in the bin

My lenses are plastic

a} You have had cataract surgery

b} You are deluded

c} They are  ruining the environment.Hide them if you can get them out of your eyes

4} You want attention.? Ask for a glass eye next time

My old blue fountain pen allows
The ink across the page to flow
Like wet paint from an artist’s brush;
And words come in a rush.

Enchanted by the hand that writes,
Bewitched by art, beauty alights.
The script is like a music score
Through which you pass as through a door.
Imagination’s home.

As,mysteriously,to you,to me,
The spirits of our hearts are tamed,
By rhythms of pen,of brush,of mind,
They enter vision quite unplanned,
Like moths to flutter softly round
Fire joined heart and hand.

The pen slows down,the hand goes still
And just as dreams at daybreak will,
They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone,
I almost caught that one.

I’m often impressed when I remember sayings, adages, things my mother used to say which are often related to bodily states

When I couldn’t find my glasses I was searching nervously or frantically and only found them when I gave up…..

I remembered my mother saying

You can’t see, for looking.

This is very interesting because like language itself and the developments from it these are coming from the lips of ordinary People. And they’re recognisinhg something which is only in the last hundred years been scientifically described I believe.

There are two kinds of seeing

Very focussed seeing.. narrow purposive vision… This is when we’ve got some thing which our mind is pinned on to and we ignore everything else apart from that very narrow bit of the world that we see very intently. We can also switch into this when we’re under stress, severe stress sometimes.

Then there is the way that the owl must look when it is looking from the tree for something to eat

Wide vision where you’re not focusing sharply on any individual spot in the landscape but your eyes widened and you’re scanning the whole at once. When the owl sees something then he or she must switch into the sharply focused mode and swoop down to catch the little beast that was spotted so the owl could have something to eat

I think artists also will be familiar with this. The eye muscles have to be relaxed which  will happen spontaneously when necessary or sometimes you can do it deliberately. There are breathing techniques and relaxation techniques which can switch into this mode

Going back to the adage

You can’t see for looking.

See refers to broad vision with the eye muscles relaxed

And ,cleverly, looking refers to sharply focused vision

So if you’re looking too hard you can’t see

Well it took me 48 hours to find my glasses

I had taken them off in my bedroom to put some sunscreen on my face and then I couldn’t find them

I was looking in the bedroom for them

But when I found them they were downstairs in the sitting room

I wasn’t even trying to find them them and I’d given up completely

My old ones are adequate for most purposes but nevertheless if you if you wear glasses you know that having the ones you’re used to especially for reading is really very important and some of us feel incomplete without them.

I’m always grateful when I find something and I often look up at the sky and say

Thank you.

And thank you to all those human beings that came before us and left us wisdom in these sayings. And this was long before they were schools and universities and other learning organizations.

I sometimes think that we are getting less intelligence as time goes on.

I once knew a writer who thought

Fish could be caught and not bought

Tell no one else

Aught that is false.

The truth is what cannot be taught.

Whit

Mary opened the door as the bell kept ringing.There stood a clergyman in a grey wool suit and baseball cap coordinated with his Nike trainers
Hello,madam,he said suavely in a mellifluous voice
Hello,Mary answered kindly.What is your mission?
To convert the entire world to Christianity.
I am sorry,I meant what was your mission with me.But anyway, you can’t convert me.So you are a failure.It’s called a counter example in Maths.
Why can’t I convert you, he asked the blue eyed witch of Knittingham standing there in her dark Artigiano jeans, Dash striped top and a red wool stole
I like choice, she cried.I do not want a creed.
Anyway, the man told her,I just came to say I am buying a flat across the road and I wanted some opinions on the quietness of this area before I finalise my purchase.
Mioaw,went Emile in a loud shriek
Oh,Lord, what is that, a demon,the poor man asked?
It’s only my cat, she told him,why not come in for coffee and I’ll tell you about the nearest neighbours.
That is very kind of you, he said.But I might be a burglar
Oh,good,Emile purred.I’ve always wanted to meet a burglar.
Why, asked the man as he entered the beautiful hall full of spiders and Picasso prints.
You can tell me how I can get into other people’s houses, the cat told him boldly.
I want to be a cat burglar!
Come into the living room, said Mary.The room was full of books like the Encarta English Dictionary, Stanley Middleton and “How to talk so cats can hear” piled in tidy heaps.
My name is Jacob, the visitor said.I have just retired but am keen to keep converting people as Christianity is the best religion ever
I don’t really want a religion and I am unsure how you prove it’s the best
I am keener on the Hindu religion, she lied impertinently just to see if she could carry it off as Aspies can’t tell lies
Suddenly the kitchen door opened and in ran Annie, the neighbour and one time Mistress of Stan,Mary’s late and dangerous old husband
Hello,Jake, she cried as she kissed his aged cheeks fondly
I am buying a flat but I didn’t know you lived here he said politely
We met on Tinder, Annie told Mary.
What is that, a hill? I know Kinder Scout.
It’s a dating website,Annie said gently, her curving lips covered in wine coloured lip glaze which almost matched her burgundy eye shadow and purple hair.
Why did you not ask me? Mary said shyly
I didn’t think you wanted another man,Annie said pertly with a twinkle in her gorgeous red eyes.
And Jacob said he came to convert me but is it true?
No, said Jacob.I saw you in the front garden and you look so beautiful I wanted to meet you.
Thank God you are not going to shower me with Biblical quotes,Mary said.
I suppose we should admire you going straight for what you want.Although when you know me better you may not find me so attractive.
Jake’s eyes bulged with emotion.
Well, you may not find me so attractive either, he cried wiping his streaming eyes on a kleenex tissue.
Mary ran upstairs and collected Stan’s hankies
Here, use these, she told Jake soulfully
Annie brought in some hot coffee with cream
What do we older people want, she murmured quizzically.We have loved and lost but shall we love again?
Well, I shall mioawed Emile.I don’t keep thinking,I just do it.If I get a chance
Love is more than sex,Emile.We want someone who shares a few interests and likes conversation.
What are your interests, she asked Jake?
I can’t remember, he admitted.I’ll have to look on FB at my profile.
But what do you do all day?
I read the Guardian and the Independent then I go out looking for women.
Women of the Night?
No,I just like to sit in the Mall and admire women as they pass by.I don’t want to cause suffering to women.And I am diabetic so I get erectile dysfunction sometimes so it would be a waste of money in any case
Well, if there was a National Wage or better benefits these prostitutes might give up their dangerous work.They all sat looking glum as they pondered over the political scene in Britain
If we were Jews we could live in Israel
Yes, you’d have seriously think of that to as the number of anti Semitic hate crimes has gone up by about 70% this year.And what that has to do with Brexit is hard to know except all people who are of different ethnicity are also being attacked.Some people seem to think it means black people will have to leave despite the fact nowhere in Europe is there a country mainly made up of black people.And during the Empire all people in it were British citizens.
Still,I feel too old to convert.Can we get false documents to prove we are Jewish?
That’s not something I know about, said Jacob, though my name is Jewish.It is Disraeli!
Hang on a minute,cried Annie.Let’s not be too hasty.It looks like Israel is on the verge of war.Yet Jake. if you married both of us we could get in as your wives as you must be Jewish.
But we are not meant to marry Gentiles.
Well how about us being servants?
Alas, that country was never truly accepted and it has become very,very fierce.I find as well that they love arguing ,which I don’t said Mary.
Well many other people love arguing,Jake said.But it’s true it is dangerous there especially with Syria at war so nearby
Why don’t we all go out and have a salt beef sandwich and some chips instead?Or how about ringing 999 for advice? They will know about getting false passports.
Is that true,said Mary
And so ask all of us.

c hac

When I returned up home when I was grown

The whole street seemed so small, it puzzled me

Adults need so much, we cannot see 

The richness of this tiny world forlorn.

A little child will love each stone and crack

Attention and desire are never short

Even to the sweets our pennies bought

We know our little world from front to back.

When we hurry on and do not breathe

We cannot see the world but we don’t know

On and on and on our sick brains go.

We do not lie but yet we are deceived.

The heat will slow us down we droop like flowers.

I know again my childhood, such sweet hours.

https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/health/wellness/g65079563/hobbies-that-will-make-you-happier/

I remember how the heat felt down in Kent 

The flowers beside the cafe gleamed like dawn

How I see the colours  smell the scent

All was new and fresh the world reborn.

Sometimes sun and heat may make us still.

We cannot hurry on in search of more

And acting from our nature, not our will

We feel at one with weeds and small wild flowers.

The blind man closed his eyes to see the scene.

He smelt the nectar, heard the little bees

And life was then as real as our best dream.

Floating with the small birds on the breeze.

I’m happy bto be slow and feel embraced

By nature and the sun with golden face

We lived in an end of terrace house. From the top of the street to our house the road was covered in tarmac and from our house downwards it was cobbled. My mother said it was because it was three different parishes but secretly I thought it was because  our house was very important

I like the cobbles because there was tar in between them and in the hot weather the tar would melt and we could pick it up and play with it.

In the summer we wore bathing suits.Sunburn was not regarded as bad

There was still quite a lot of TB and also polio. So sunshine was healthy although we often used to get burnt backs. Not to mention damage to our faces.

1953 was a hot year and my father was dying. I was outside playing on the cobblestones or playing with my skipping rope etc

I think we have the coronation as I remember a party at the bottom of the street where the cobbled part of the road met the main road going to St Helen’s.

None of my siblings came with me so I felt lonely not knowing what a coronation meant in practical terms apart from the Queen being crowned

Now the brickfield and the clay quarry has been filled in and they’ve built new house is over it

They used to be allotments prices were some men kept hens

Then as people got cars they closed the allotments and built ugly garages them

The convent and  the school that I went to closed and now this is a housing estate so my sister told me. She was very happy that the school was knocked down. So was I

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/d841ff52-49bf-460e-bcac-4bf19d8f6a94?shareToken=20d171d4553337834a6ffe88d5ae92e7

Words can help buoy you up. Making every minute count. Making memories. Only the snobbish and arrogant, the ever so healthy, mock aphorisms as trite. When things seem impossibly gloomy, when I don’t think I can take much more bad news, I turn to another wicked old friend. In the past I called her the emphysemic pit pony, because she has short legs and used to wheeze when she pushed my wheelchair uphill. That was long ago, before getting old became unavoidable and before I bought a power chair for going any distance. Now she’s over 70, still has short legs, still smokes one roll-up a day and employs the most dogged, brilliant, multipurpose saying of all:

Every day above ground is a good day.

In our yard, we had a dog on wheels.

Its fur was almost gone,it was so worn

I sat upon its musty back,my steed.

I thought that he looked sad, he looked forlorn

In that house my grandma lived and died

My father was a child it was his dog

Rich as grass in meadows was its fur.

The rusty wheels were bright and pierced the fog

I see the yard the coal shed and the lav.

The green back gate my grandad coming in

The shed where bikes were piled up in a rush.

The cat jumped  up so fast on the ash bin

Dad went off then grandad went off too.

I see them coming home in polished shoes

You might be poor but still you could look neat

A Sunday coat,best shoes on polished feet

God has been replaced by our machines

We worship them all week, no Sabbath day

No need for leisure nor  the fallow field

No unconscious mind, no grace, no play.

No wonder little children want their phones.

They need to worship like their parents do.

Unlike God, machines can be controlled

Everything is fine, till dogs miaow.

Before the metal and the wire bow down.

Clean your Lord with disinfectant blue.

Keep all his brethren clean no need to pray

Meditations just another clue

Give your washing one more spin tonight

Eventually you’ll see that glowing light

My bonsai beech has blended with  the yew
And in it   little wrens have made a nest
A robin, so much  bolder,passed by too
In late spring the birds make us feel blessed

As a child I had no garden home
The  girls and boys  with balls and ropes make play
I laugh to think we went out with no phones
The cobbles in the  road held marbles stray

We had no trees,we had coal mines and mills
My aunties’ faces lined and worn  still smiled
With their sugared tea were bitter pills
Each a  single tear shed  by   the  Christ

Arsenic and opium combined
Which will win the contest for our minds?

Hello Katherine are you going to Mars on Sunday?

I was wondering about an evening bath.

Are you going listen to Beethoven’s trial in sombrero?

What about Mozart’s clarinet twin set?

I want to get a new sinful coat in the gales

Where is your mouse truncated?

He says who wants to paint your balls?

I hope he will change the sea lion.

What about the Hunt bore,

It’s illegal to count boxers.

Is your dog a large warrior?

Have you possibly exams on your whores?

I guess I was tight 

What sort of fear do you like?

Who wrote about the finality of evil,?

Can I have my own Korea?

What do you think of speech to vexed in 5 words?

What do you think of a bird being banned?

Could the Red Sea divide again?

What about Solomon’s twinkle?

https://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/04/why-teaching-poetry-is-so-important/360346/

More complex than our mind is nature green

The River Lea still murmurs as it flows

Waltham abbey, Eleanor her cross

In the sun, the kingfisher still glows.

Through the fields the river sings her song.

There are grassy banks where we once rolled.

Where is now our innocence of heart?

The shepherd guides the flock into the fold.

In the abbey crypt the sacred dwells

Near the yew trees and King Harold’s grave.

Once there would have been the sound of bells

And in-our hearts we felt that Jesus saved

Let the world receive the humble child.

Who can see the gods in,this world wild?

https://poemanalysis.com/william-butler-yeats/coole-park-and-ballylee/

https://poemanalysis.com/william-butler-yeats/the-wild-swans-at-coole/#

The pure in heart shall see their God one day.

With  love’s intention clear they offer prayer

Yet God will not talk big like Donald Trump

God will whisper what he has to say

Is no one listening for that voice today?

God is tramped on as the high priests pray.

The bombs to stop all future bombs are stumped

There is no future where no children play