Menu for mad native of UK

Art by Katherine

Fried frogs on a bed of lice with free desert and Bedouin prisoner
Scottish moles and salad with hot flatbread from Gaza & strip
English Enema with free water and wafers and Syrian Refugee
Welsh Wrabbit grilled on West Bank of Thames plus Binoculars and Gun
Scottish Sausage with alimony tossed in lemon juice and oil
HP Sauce on Macaroni in butter with Russian Cheesefake
Fried Fish with chip on boulder of Galilee with boat
German Green Goose with mesh of potato free to engage
Grumbling Grand Gorse with spikes and dressing and free Baptism
Spanish Hamlet with chunky chips and a pack of cards with Joker
Linear Equations of Spaghetti with photo of salad Macbeth
Matrix of Pasta in green gauze with free wound and needle
Hindu Blessing and free food for all who smile
Cherry Tree blessed by God plus Rice and Nuts and free Tea
Irish plight and potato free to all

It speaks

seashore under blue sky
Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

This poem is written in the sonnet form,
And yet I have my doubts about its shape
Though nearly to that structure it conforms
There may be holes where nightmare faces gape.

It looks and speaks just as a sonnet would
And talks of metaphysical concerns.
Do we conclude, as poets and readers should,
That in our schizoid age we cannot learn?

For humans may be decked in clothes of wolves;
And lambs be dressed in lion’s fearsome furs.
Thus, sense is tricked and problems are unsolved.
Landscapes etched, yet details seem quite blurred.

It looks like one,it feels like one,it speaks;
Yet from these words, does human feeling leak?

The shape and form

Put your painful feelings into form
The sonnet,villanelle, the triolet
The shape controls the anguish of the storm

Our wounds can shape our vision and our thoughts
Remember school, where bullies made you pay?
Put your painful feelings into form

Words like daggers pierce the loving heart
Oh, memory must not cut us off from play
The play controls the violence of the storm

Let all thought of vengeance now depart
Or our spirit blackens, then decays
Put those painful feelings into form

In its time the sun will bring new dawns
Tears will wash our souls from black to grey
The words compress,contain the bloody storm

Do not give the monsters time of day
Conversation does not always pay
Put your painful feelings into form
The shape will heal the anguish like a balm

I could not own my grief

The moment that they told me he was gone
I knew I never more would be at one.
The guilt  is bad, the shame is harder still
That I no longer am  what I would will

That I did not perceive the   your state of mind
That to your heart I seemed to have been blind
That I was not enough to keep you here
That life and death most grievous are  so near

Then  shamed by my emotions I withdrew
Into the prison cell  that no-one knew
My soul was  pierced , I could not own my grief
 Limp, submissive , blown away, a leaf.

Shame is deadly, unexposed to speech
With reddened face and   faltering voice I weep

The blocked grief was a stone

The grief that was a stone inside my chest
Has melted into water,now my tears
That rain upon my face, that feel like death

Is human life a lesson with its tests?
Must people walk with anguish down the years?
The grief weighed like a boulder in my chest

God did not evoke the fierce Tempest
His still small voice will whispers in the ear
The rain runs down my face, I hate love’s death

I rage against the fever,give me rest
The little whisper tells me,do not fear
The grief stood like a boulder on my chest

The Dove flies on the current of God’s breath
My shrouded eyes are wet, how is Love dear
That rains upon my face, that feel like death?


From the cliff top I saw white walls sheer
I shall not go again,my mind is clear
The blocked grief was a stone inside my chest
It turned to tears, yet still I feel love’s death

What is the sense of death?

As I writer I have been sentenced to death after 50 years
In future I’ll use phrases
Also I am censored to death so my novels don’t make sense
Do sense my feelings and be kinder to me
I feel like a soporific
With tea, bread and butter?
The sensation of love is a distraction when doing partial differential equations.
Why am I doing them?
They are better than Su Doku

Startled flowers

The hailstones pounded the window
as violently,as if they had minds
bent on killing;soldiers in rows and ranks rushing onwards;
as each fell another and another took its place.
Cold and mathematical they had a simple precise force and geometry.
Into this warlike scene,floated two white butterflies
Crossing and recrossing the spaces between the hail
they followed a random path;now together.now apart
Their unplanned,loving dance leads to mating, procreation and a future
while the hailstones can only die.
Seems sometimes fragile freedom is more productive
than the fierce mechanical modern world can imagine.
I see the butterflies now like startled flowers
hunting for the sun

Become good enough

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

If we can’t do good, we may be able at least to avoid harming others
But some people like President Trump either don’t know or don’t care
And it seems to to be hard to know when we may be harming others
Probably requires a lot of humility
That is not something admired in our culture
But when you are dying it may affect you unless you are totally sedated
My husband used to say, as you live so will you die
He died very peacefully with me singing by his side
I’m a singer inside and I get messages that way.I don’t always hear them
I heard the bird tapping on the window in March
I saw Death like a black shape dancing in May
Then I knew.
I did my best and if I harmed him I am sure he forgave me
We are not always able to be aware of what we are doing
However we don’t always want to know
Just knowing what is good is not enough
We have to let it come to us and be part of us
And generally
Be courteous
Be dignified
But have fun
Enjoy the life we carry within
Then let it go

I sing of colour and of love

The butterfly is like a flower
which moves its station every hour.
Oh,happy is he on the wing.
The vision makes me quick to sing.
The flower is open in the sun,
And to its heart, true love shall come.
The bees shall feast and fly replete
With nectar they are now full sweet.
I sing of colour and of love;
Blessings that rain down from above.
I wish to be a flower too.
Ah,that the bee could but be you.

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 Ribble 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 met her lover on the roof

From the bitter winter of the heart






We  feel the bitter winter of the heart
The icy hand ,the cruel teeth’s sharp bite
When close friends die, when lovers break apart

Terse,cruel words can make our deep self smart
The weak have  little power to make things right
So feel the bitterest winter of their hearts

Humans may like fruit be much too tart
Thus fantasied revenge  can  blind with light
As close friends die or false lovers depart

While we suffer, we seek maps and charts
Which path to  follow,which leads us aright
From  the bitter winter of the heart?

The muscles clench, the ligaments are taut
Faces frown, in mirrors demons  shriek
If close friends die or lovers haste to part

The pain of loss, the tears that agitate
The mental functions,all have gone on strike
Stricken in  the  winter of the heart

Retaliation , bitter, wants to fight.
Yet we have little time to see the Light
We   curse the bitter winter of the heart
Instinct, humbler. finds for us new charts

Willing





Do not cultivate a bitter heart
Nor spread the seeds of malice where you go
Accept the worst, be willing, though it smarts

Do not plot your hatred on a chart
Stand and feel , accept what we can’t know
Do not cultivate a bitter heart

When we suffer deeply, when death parts
The agony is torment passing slow
Accept the worst, be willing, wounds do smart

Though we have no dagger,words are sharp
The little snails have nothing but teach slow
Do not cultivate a bitter heart

Do not be the tiger as it snarls
Fate and death and anguish hurt us most
Accept, be first, be willing, though it smarts

As we sink down further into low
We see the glow worms, wondrous like lit snow
Open arms and time relieve our hearts
Accept, be patient, willing, that is smart

What’s new?


You were very close to me
Often in my mind
Offering me affection
Humour well designed
But life is rarely stable
As lightly blows the sand
When you seem so far away,I’m blue

The distance grows,I shiver
I don’t know what to say
We are different people
Changing every day
Like we are wearing bandages
We’re wounded and dismayed
Yet I’m glad you’re faraway, it’s true

Soon we will lose contact
I shall be free and glad
Living with your rages
Makes a woman mad
The love became indifference
That’s what makes me sad
Now you feel so far away, what’s new?

Are you shrewd, are you astute?



Can your dentist play the flute
The violin or the French Horn?
Do you know that teeth have roots?

Are your shrewd, are you astute
Did you smile when you were born?
Can your dentist play the flute?

Did Abert Einstein play with Newts
Can you love or are you lorn?
Do you know that teeth have roots?

Were you chatty, were you mute?
Did you love in golden corn?
Can your dentist play the flute?

Do the men say,you are cute?
Do they love your curvy form?
Do you know that teeth have roots?

Read the music, play a storm
The Albert Hall is very warm
Can your father play the flute
Do you know that words have roots?


Do not leave me

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, and all my body ache
How soothe my mind, when near me there is none.
Do not leave me for  that desolate  grave
Do not leave me

For   our thought-less love, I still do crave
A founding ground that we had 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
Oh, 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 love we spun
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  that desolate   grave
Do not abandon me  for death’s  embrace
Do not leave me

Swear words are so boring nowadays

Now we’re used to hearing “fuck” and “shit”
What words can we use to let off steam?
Oh, what a twit omitting words like “twat”
However will I have erotic dreams?

Few words are forbidden in our books
Little children learn to swear and scream
On the television, some won’t look
As words like this flow out in lengthy streams

Lady Chatterley, you were the cause
But what will be the affect and effect?
Lawrence, you were eager to enjoy
But who could know what others might detect?

I think I shall say ” sorry” when I rage
Would “lies and curses” draw more to my page?

In her uncertainty

Ways of thinking about literature made the writer’s muse smile
She didn’t like nuns and dog’s breakfasts
Her teacher at school became confusingly unchangeable.
She wasn’t sharing so we heard bells toll,
What to read and what to shirk she dismayed us in her uncertainty;
books matter;
even that we revolved slowly in some planetary action for human salutations
This remade powerfully—the way to live;
to live improperly was to read art works
with the eyea of eagles
they affected me,and ironised other ways of seeing
the ambitions of over-arching theory and hence our being.
I was educated to love with all my heart

You could not understand

If you came back you would not understand
The death of virtue ,truth and beauty too
And to advertise it,tell lies on demand

In my childhood, that bewitching land
Respect brought out good character to view
If you came you could not understand

Writing with a stick upon the sands
Up the tide will rush and wash out truth
So ,to advertise it,tell lies on demand

Evil,slick , obedient Eichmann stands
No human is as mighty as the noose
Coming back you would not understand

We can split an atom, yet be bland
Drop another bomb on human youth
To hide our sin we tell lies on demand

Once we worshipped Pan with horns and hoof
Now we worship Satan,God’s own proof
f you came back you would not understand
Media will tell lies and make demands

I


Damage and damage with the Media



“The real opposition is the media,” Steve Bannon, the president’s former chief strategist, once told the journalist Michael Lewis. “And the way to deal with them is to flood the zone with shit.

Photo by Produtora Midtrack on Pexels.com




https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/05/president-unraveling/611146/

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

What not to say to the bereaved




Give me a smile
There are plenty of other fish in the sea
You are tough.You will be fine
You should be over it by now
You can come here for Christmas if you WANT to
You are not invited to the Christening.It’s Family only.[That means no Aunts.]
[ on the upside, this will save you the money you would have spent on Gifts]
My aunt got married again in 6 months [ I’d prefer a silk dress]
My mother never cried when anyone died.
Well, we all feel sad now and then.
You can borrow that black coat I bought last year for the Funeral
What do you mean, you don’t feel like cooking?
Your husband looked gay.
You look ok to me
You are poor.
Would you like a vibrator for Xmas? And some batteries
What do you mean, you can’t see well enough to drive?
You’ll have to go out more.When it’s legal
What do you think of Joe Biden being 78?



Meeting you

I used to see you waiting up the hill
Your shape a cipher,features not yet seen
My heart would smile and I feel tender still

I’d start  to run, while your eyes had their fill
Getting close with kisses like thick cream
I used to see you waiting up the hill

We would get the paper,pay the bill
As love flowed out like water from a stream
My heart would smile and I feel tender still

We walked  the City churches, they were  chill
But beautiful  and complex like a dream
I used to see you waiting up the hill

Now never will you be here,yet I shall
I mistake another person as sun gleams
My heart may smile for I feel tender still

In the night, I woke up with a scream
I felt I too must die, that’s how it seemed
I long to see you waiting up the hill
My heart will smile, I feel  so tender still

 

 

 

Drowned babies

The sunset is pale
Coral with grey finger marks
No bird sang today
The leaves wait like mouths
Now they are shutting their lips
They don’t get night feeds
All is calm and still
The moon is singing Mahler
Dead babies whisper.
Lullaby,the heart
Enfold all infants’ pathos
Dies with them daily
Forget not at night
Those for whom the sun is dead
They are stiff like dolls

The vulgar post

Why do bras have 2 cups?
Because nobody uses saucers now!

Why do men wear briefs?
So they won’t lose them on the way to the Court

Why do women not wear skirts?
So we can rate their bottoms as their tops are brief and their leggings too tight
And their stockings are invisible even when darned

Are you pulling my leg?
I can’t even see it.
You could still touch it
May I?
Not here,we’ll be on the News
Then where?
In the bath
There may be a hidden camera
Who wants to see people in the bath?
The Russians.
For blackmail?
Can you blackmail by email?
Better use voicemail
How clever you are
Bedankt voor ye briefke
Fire and Ice



W