. Art by Katherine.Copyright 2020
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The Kingdom of God? Not here
Photo by Jose Aragones on Pexels.com
Photo by Jose Aragones on Pexels.com
EXTRACT
The kingdom of God is at the center of the Lord’s Prayer. Most interesting to me are its petitions, as they are called. When we pray the Lord’s prayer we don’t ask for “my bread,” but “our bread.”
Accordingly, I know that my heavenly Father has heard my prayer not when there’s bread on my table, or on my immediate family’s table, but when there is bread on my church family’s table. (Perrin, p 216)
Perrin should have said “on everybody’s table.” Christ breaks open the idea of family, so that includes not just people like me, but socially undesirable others, alien others, strangers.
The Greek word for “us” is hemon (ἡμῶν, Strong’s number 2257), In every case the Lord’s Prayer refers to us, not me. Give us our daily bread. Forgive us our sins. Lead us not into temptation. I’m reminded of Reinhold Niebuhr‘s observation that the worst things we do we do as self-righteous collectives. Our sins include imperialism, colonialism, slavery. Our concern should be that everyone in the world has bread, for it is “our bread,” granted to us by “our father.” The Lord’s Prayer is a prayer in the first-person plural.
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Life,the art that needs our hearts
When must we be cautious, when let go?
Who knows how to choose the better part
When to use our will and when to flow
When to plant the seed and watch it grow
When ought we be cautious, when let go?
When to bend as wilder winds can blow
How to live,the art that needs our hearts
When may we be cautious, when let go?
Who knows how to guess the better part?
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Who loved the words, who loved the entire song
The eyes that gazed on me with love profound
The hand the touched me with caresses true
The one who made me happy on earth’s ground
Who loved the words, who loved the entire song
Who loved me with rare subtlety of mind
Whose love was strong, whose being was most kind
And thus with all his qualities imbued
The eyes that gazed, delighted I was found
The hand, the touch, the giving , taking true
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They may carry you to safety too
You have to be careful now not to stand still in London in case a football supporter urinates on you.
Especially if you are a memorial to a brave police man
Then, thinking about a holiday.I was expecting to go to Teesdale as my husband loved High Force…… but that will remind me of……urination,Dominic Cummings,Covid 19.lies,BJ, Barnard Castle,and other unpleansant things.
I am thinking Southport will be safer or even Morecambe and the sinking sands ; my garden will be even safer apart birds getting angry.
I am wondering what to read next.Rodham. Gone with the Wind or
War and Peace?
Or the road atlas?
Can I bear Hillary and Bill in bed? Not with me!
It’s mere fantasy of the lowest type.Who does not know that men get erections and have intercourse until they get too old?
We need a story.
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Cats enjoying Leonard Cohen
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Listening to Leonard Cohen
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Growing up poor
Trousers by Selective Marketplace which closed about 10 years ago
Feet by God and cheap shoes
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Love must win
Of love and hatred which is stronger now?
We destroy the enemy we choose
Love must win, but we ask when and how
Before the force of evil do not bow
But search your heart to find if you have clues
Oh love and hatred which is stronger now?
In my own heart, evil leaves me bruised
What to do when we are so confused
Love must win, but we ask when and how
Others are not there to be misused
The harm we do adheres like strongest glues
Of love and hatred which is stronger now?
There is no heavenly court where we can sue
In the past we know how hatred grew
Love must win, but we ask when and who
Round the world pandemics of hate flew
With the media we see more and new
Of love and hatred which is is growing now?
Love must win, but we ask when and how
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Bleeps and pings are not a natural sound.
Diagonal streams now stripe the windowpane
And in them, tiny insects drown and die.
Unexpected ,sudden rain has come.
Those escape who have the wings to fly.
No angels were seen peering at my room
No doubt they have their Sunday wings to press.
No camera ,even with psychotic zoom,
Can catch an angel while she is undressed.
Now the rain has dried and all is sweet
I tend to houseplants standing by the door.
By good luck these houseplants never bleep.
Only in the real world do they flower.
Bleeps and pings are not a natural sound.
But to the artificial we will bound.
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Cats
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Correcting others@P$ speech
Art by Katherine and her insect bite
Awry,Tory,Awry,Greenfly,hi
Correction of one’s speech makes shame oblique
The reddened face the burning of the cheek
What’s your motivation to feel high?
You may know more words and how to say
To give long lectures,talks and answer back
But now you need to know you have a lack
You hurt other people every day
After all, we must communicate
See the posture, see the eyes, the face
Then touch the other with your voice, your speech
Or to be an object of their hate
If you think we’re here to put folk down
You are hurting others.some may drown
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Tinker,tailor
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There is something sinister unread
I found a strange man sleeping in my bed
He had the static creepiness I dread
Still alive but seeming to be dead
is this a dream that dwells inside my head
I should have dreams of Errol Flynn instead
Look where that damn garden path has led
Oh,God, the cat has come back to be fed
He eats frogs before they are quite dead
The Sermon on the Mount is still unread
There was noone in my marriage bed
There is something sinister unread
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Every time I see yor face I smile
Every time I see yor face I smile
It’s just a dream,I am not reconciled
When I waken up the tears run by
Remembering or forgetting where you are
Now you have come back to pick up me
We have an newer house down by the sea
Shall we take our books and music there?
I gave away your clothes but you’re not bare
I’ve found it freezing cold outside your gaze
Without those conversations every day
Can’t you stay here for a few more years?
In the dream I never seem to cry
We seem to be the actors in this Play
You are calm and dignified, oh stay
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Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch
Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch
As if our self extends outside our skin
With no intention to take hold or clutch
Those who do this , how love must be rich
Rarely will they mortify or sin
Meeting someone’s eyes is a kind touch
If we are afraid, may we find trust
Let us try again, why not begin
With no intention to take hold or clutch?
We are human, do we mind who’s first?
Let our minding weigh less than a pin
Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch
In the end we mingle with the dust
Have we made good use of any gift
With no intention to take hold or clutch?
With love around, we need not be too swift
Take your own time wandering through the mist
Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch
Gentle, do caress, don’t grasp nor clutch
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John le Carre
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Her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant
Mary was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether to throw out a book called
Schrodinger ‘s equation for idiots.
The title had more than one meaning, she thought to herself.
I think that is for the recycling bin, she told her cat, Emile.What a pity you can’t read.You could have read it.
I don’t want to read stuff like that.I only like Dad’s cartoon books.
Where are they, Mary asked him, her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant?
They are in that plastic box in the kitchen, Emile told her.I read them at night.
How can you read if there is no light?Please don’t start sinning as I don’t want you to have to become a Catholic.
I can’t become a Catholic, said Emile.I am Jewish.
Well, St Paul was Jewish, Mary told him.Until he had an epileptic fit .
So having a fit can make you a Christian.
That is very strange, the black cat told her with a twinkle in his eyes
Well, it’s not automatic, Mary replied.You have to pay.
What, pay to become a Christian, I don’t believe Jesus would like that.
Well , he may be quite indulgent, sometimes Mary giggled.
However, the Vatican and its wealth might not be quite what he was thinking of when he gave the Sermon on the Mount.
What sort of mount was it , Emile enquired.Was it a horse?
No, it was more likely to have been a donkey as he was poor, you know
But he had things money can’t buy, the cat said philosophically.
Like women who poured oil over his feet.What sort was it,?Was it like that stuff Stan put in the car engine sometimes?
Don’t be so ridiculous.It was olive oil, Mary told him
Can we prove that, Emile murmured?
His feet were no salad
No, I am using inductive reasoningMary stated logically.
Olive trees are grown in that part of the world even now.
What is inductive reasoning, Emile mewed
Why it’s the opposite of deductive reasoning, of course, Mary stated flatly
I am glad I can’t read, Emile said.
It’s bad for you to have to learn all of that.
It was ok for the ancient Greeks.They had no televisions.
I’d rather watch Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra singing Vivo per lei.Whatever that means.
She is from New Zealand by the way.
What difference does that make Mary teased him?
No need to be rude, Emile cried.I was only passing a remark
That was what Stan’s mother used to say when he told her off for saying my maple mousse was like something out of a tin.
Where was it from?
The Joy of Cookery. a big American cook book or maybe Jewish Cookery by Florence Greenberg or Marks and Spencers
Did you get that book because I am Jewish, Emile purred?
No, I didn’t even know you were.How did it happen?
My mother was living with a Rabbi in Liverpool and he told her she could not miaow on the Sabbath so she kind of assumed she was Jewish.As for my father.. nobody knows.
Emile, don’t start saying you are the Messiah.I have enough trouble already.
I don’t want you to be walking on water and helping women taken in adultery
I was not me who took them, said Emile.I don’t even know where Adultery is.
I think I’ll ring 999.We need help before we go mad.
Sometimes going mad seems the better option, Mary said sadly.
A few voices telling me what to do might be helpful
As long as they are not Michael Grovels and Horace Whatson, Emile replied.
And so say all of us
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We are watching you
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Gathering up the treasures from the sands
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Gathering up the treasures from the sands
The sea shores of the world in dark,in sun
Where children play till all the day is done
The mystery of the deep, of whales and men
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Sailing in from distant foreign lands
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Gathering up the treasures till the end
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Will love last us?
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
The interest and the courtesy and care
Learning skills together makes love faster
Best avoid name calling, like you bastard!
Testing to destruction, do not dare
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
If you have a friend then you must ask her
if you treat her lovingly and fair
Learning skills together brings love faster
In view of lockdown, you will not now pat her
Nor with a gimlet eye be keen to stare
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
Be still, my friend, we are put off by chatter
But do not fret about the clothes you wear
Sewing darning, mending holes love’s better
There’s love around and much more going spare
Hope the fabric’s tough and will not wear
The art of friendship,is it hard to master?
Learning skills together love will last us
,
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Goodness, it’s 11 am
Would you like to go to bed?
Can you be more precise?
Would you like some lamb?
For what?
What do you eat for breakfast?
Mind your own business
That’s not very nice.
Exactly.
Is it time to get up?
No, come down
Shall we pray?
I think it’s too late
Goodness, it’s 11 am
Yes, we have that every day here
So from now on, we can’t hug the postman
Unless he’s in a Bubble
Shall we call a cab?
Why can’t we ring?
I forgot the bell.I gave it to the cat.
Well, get it back
Actually it was a tiger
I don’t believe that
Wait till you get home
Why?~
He’s on the bed with the bell
We may have to get the police
Do you really think the police will help?
He can eat them first while we run away
Let’s sleep rough.
OK in a holly tree
Or a bed of roses
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You’re weird!
Shall we go out?
Where is our switch?
Do you want to have a meal?
I’d rather eat it.
I saw a black shape at the door
Probably your shadow.
It followed me in
Next time, go out.
Will it let me?
Just walk through it.
When the doctor smiled at me I saw a gold fuzzy cloud
That means you don’t need LSD
No,I need a thicker skin and new glasses
I ran back and shook hands with the Consultant
I hope he wasn’t doing surgery.
He was gazing pensively at me then declared
You’re weird!
Is that ethical?
It depends on what kind of weirdness it is.
He sent me for X rays ,then wept
Was that before or after he saw them?
He cried onto my bare knees
Is that ethical?
Well, no point crying onto an X ray is there?
Is it ethical?
Well, it won’t heal them.
How unethical!
Why can’t they insert new cartilege?
A pity my knee is not a gun
You are weird.Cartridge!
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Do not grate the cheese with your false teeth
Put salt onto your scalp with your shampoo
If like the ocean you are feeling blue
When you rub, the dry skin will come off
So at the moment you must never cough
Do not grate the cheese with your false teeth
This will give your other some relief
There are great devices you can buy
Make certain yours is not a home for flies
Coffee with no milk may be a dye
Pour it on your head as alibi
Is there any warrant for arrest?
Do not send your blood until it’s blessed
If you see some tear gas in your street
Lock the door and hide beneath the sheets
The Bible as a weapon is uncouth
God does not embroider his own truth
Integration means so much to me
I learned the Calculus from A to B
I learned about geometry ,don’t tell
If Euclid comes I’m up the pole as well
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Even Alfred got puzzled
Alfred,cat ,both black and white
Do not be afraid
Alfred dearest, that was News
Before the Trump arrived
Alfred how I miss you now
I hope you’re still alive
You look quite puzzled or afraid
I’m sorry I was sad
In this world of madness now
We search for tidings glad
If you have another home
I don’t mind now you’re gone
I hope you find a warm bed place
And sleep until you’re done
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Fuzzy numbers
In calculus we find mysterious forms
Minute numbers disappear,return
Zero is not nothing, but a cloud
Of motes that dance in sun or disappear
Fuzzy logic too has mystery
The truth says nothing is mere black or white
Just more or less and these may overlap
Dissolving into clouds upon a map
Numbers have no feelings but make form
I once saw them moving, patterned, in my dreams
Golden letters telling me the way
The truth is often very hard to see
Like those tiny half alive mind dots
Flying through our minds like dust flies in the sun
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An old garden
It reminds me of an East Anglian landscape.
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees
A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,
what I remember Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.
Looking at this small garden,
I remember So many things,
my eye sees through
What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All contained here.
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees
A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,
what I remember Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.
Looking at this small garden,
I remember So many things,
my eye sees through
What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All contained here.
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The erections must go
There once was a very rich man
His statue erect is now damned
For he traded in slaves
And sent men to their graves
This stupidity is sure to be banned
He wanted to be seen after death
To be admired, unknowing of our wrath
He did not imagine
A changed reaction
Oh.Lord, let’s all take a deep breath
Britain has great evil to show
Sending many men to death row
The poor children were starving
While being disregarded
The system was as cruel as they go
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What shall I call them?
Would you mind calling the police?
What shall I call them?
Would you like to ring 999?
I’d rather ring a bell
Shall we get an ambulance?
I’d prefer a cat,myself
Shall we go to A and E?
Rather go to B C D
Do I need stitches?
No, we all have mouths
My nails are very long
Like hair, they grow
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Mother, help me,mother I can’t breathe
He went inside a shop to buy some bread
Then minutes later he was lying dead
Life is so precarious every day
Police are meant to help us on our way
United now the entire world protests
A video of a man with neck compressed
Mother, help me.mother I can’t breathe
Oh,Jesus, you were killed between two thieves.
Now, he has been buried let us note
No man is an island,John Donne wrote
We are all connected, make new laws
Ask why this man’s murder gave us pause
Who believes, the black folks,killed, oppressed
Were never by the government addressed?
