We see not what ‘s there,we see our self

The eye is not a camera taking shots
Our mind affects the aspect we perceive
And what it feels important it allots
Gives grace or hatred ,causes us to grieve.
When we are afraid ,we see the worst
We see disgrace or ruin as our fate
As if our self for horror has a thirst
So all the little details we collate
Yet when we love we see before us joy
The flowers each sing, the birds dance in the air
We see no evil nor with hatred toy
All aspects of our world appear more fair.
We see not what ‘s there,we see our self
To learn ,we must employ our own mind’s wealth

Not again

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Will you  kindly hear my Confession,Father?
Yes, I am  here.
I have committed the wrong sins.
Any sin is wrong,dear
I mean,some people break into a bank and steal millions
Yes, but they usually end up in jail
Well, in jail I wouldn’t have to boil  my husband’s hankies
But won’t you feel sorry  for him with no drawer of neatly ironed hankies?
Maybe after a few years
Get back on track.What are these sins that you call wrong?
I am fuming with rage,madness and jealousy but I don’t let them show.I act pleasant
Well, that seems very kind to me.
Not to you.To my sister and my brother
But  our minds are not our own.These feelings arise.It is not a sin unless you do something cruel because of them
I’m unsure if I believe that.Is there no way of living where we don’t have those   feelings?
I suppose if you lived on top of a pillar in the desert but your mind might wander back
I think it would.Why do minds wander?
They get frustrated by boredom.So maybe you need something stimulating to do and then you need to be contented
I thought I was contented.But clearly I am not.There’s always somebody somewhere who  has more  then I do
You seem to have a brighter mind than many.
Yes,it wears me out.
You should  just wear it lightly
How do  you wear a mind?
In or out?
When in doubt,say nowt.
And do you repent?
I am trying
I so agree.You are but never mind.God has forgiven you now.
I’m not sure about these rites.Still,It lets us reflect which is good
For your penance look in a mirror and admire yourself three times a day
Well, that’s a very  unusual penance.Can’t I whip myself and call myself a bleeding idiot?
Now, that really would be a sin.What are you ,a sado-masochist?
Oh,dear.I have fallen  into evil ways.I hope  God won’t turn me into a pillar of salt
As a child, I thought it was a pillow of salt
We all see and hear things in our own way.
May the Lord  bless you and keep you
May he let his countenance shine upon you
Amen

Walk in ferny woods. exchange a glance

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Wasting life when we would like to dance
Walk in ferny woods. exchange a glance
Can we have a decent  person at our head?
Jesus Christ,no b*gger understood

Why be happy when you could feel mad?
Glad that Donald Trump is not your dad
Don’t  let  logic, reason or plain thought
Sell you something Mother  never bought

Why not let   the police take all control?
They know  how to score a self made goal 
They can kill a  man and wound a child
Yet kneel down in Church along the aisle

Holding a black Bible in one hand
Will not take you to the Promised Land
Cain and Abel,Jacob and Esau
Does he hopen to start another War?

 

As the old man fell towards his death
They offered us a handrail for the bath
I was so shattered by their wilful lies
I could not speak, my saliva had all dried

He was walking albeit slowly when at home
When they took him off I heard the groan
Lost inside his head, no wife nearby
Even Satan would have wept  that night

Gabriel and Satan, hand- in -hand
Neither one will ever understand
We humans waste so much,we’re almost blind
Full of envy,hate  and  so unkind

 

G

 

 

Beauty

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People killed by motorcars don’t count
Three times fifty thousand just last year
Covid’s  killed 1/6 of that they hint
Whose ghosts will gather round the kitchen fire

Here’s a man who drove when almost blind
He  crashed into the chidren leaving school
Here’s a lawless lady who can’t find
The brake, the map, the  light,  the book of rules

We can’t fly to  to to Chile,Singapore
We’ll have to drive to Devon in our cars
We  may have an accident at home
Or get so drunk we fall and see the stars

It seems we  have forgotten we’re like flowers
A moment’s beauty , then the  heavy showers

 

 

 

 

 

Test your own eyes

I nearly died of laughter when he went out for a drive
Simply,purely, only to test his   bleary eyes
He put his toddler in the back, just to be quite sure
He would not be orphaned if his father crashed the car

To make  it even safer he took his good wife too
Even though she felt quite weak after having flu
They went to Barnard Castle, not just round the  block
The river Tees is very fine,  the Castle on a rock

It was all or nothing;was it murder,suicide
Taking all your loved ones on a really dodgey ride?
The Unconscious has impulses of which we do not know
Like sending cripples out to buy their own food in the snow

What can we deduce from this, is he Head of State
Ascending up to heaven,  does he want to  emigrate?

In the labour ward

I was born the day that we bombed Dresden
Though my mother could not help to load the planes
She was in the labour ward in lockdown
When human sacrifice was born again

I would not suck her milk after Hiroshima
Though the radiation never came near us
It set a precedent and made me thinner
Easier to carry on the bus.

Life and death eternal fought within me
I survived in that I am still here
Though is living really what it used to be?
Death and evil almost won the War

Keeping thin is a well known procedure
To get through slits and slots however small
But are we each permitted to show grief here
Or must it live behind a metal wall?

 

More than 1200 heavy bombers carried out attacks on Dresden.I was born a bit later but prematurely.

Carnation, orchid, daffodil and rose

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How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose
Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
Their complex petals form a  living shield
Yet bees with much striped force shall make them yield

Appearances,both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.

As, knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare

.We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,  he her virtue takes.

Beneath the surface, force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?

Copyright © Katherine

The anniversary

On this June day, he went away,
That was some years ago
Each dawn was like torture,
The  anguish. the slaughter
No connection  with anyone  near
He gave a  last smile,I  did not cry,
My heart took the weight of the blow

The time goes so slowly,
We can’t control it
Stunned by the sorrow,the flow
How will you manage, he whispered,
We’re married.
Will you be able to steer?
I could not think past it,
His death  would be drastic
My aim was to help him let go

Yet time also races,
We must not waste it
We’re here for a short time, who knows?
One day runs to the next day
My heart aches so  violently
 I  hold it here gently
Why oh love why aren’t you here?

I called after three weeks
I can’t go on like this
Won’t you come back,why’d ye go?
I had no answer, the demons entranced me
They tightened me up with their gears
Like the rack and the  flaying
Skin torn and  bleeding
Yet we’re not meant to let feeling show

 

In Wenceslaus Square

I am fortunate
If I can find two gloves now
One left and one right

The other problem
My hands are misshapen too
Ladies’ gloves might not fit me.

I can be a man
If I decide I want to be
There! I wear your gloves now.

But I prefer scarves
Made for women, with flowers
Embroidery,silk,cashmere.

My taste is quite good
I know  I like your image
You stand on the bridge in Prague

In Wenceslaus Square
The orchestra played Ma Vlast
The Elektion

Holocaust Museum
Children’s coloured drawings are
Butterflies for God

He died too with them
So we have no  floor to stand on
Everything’s trembling

I forgot I am.
I was lost somewhere other
How I stand on air!

 

 

Mary and her woollen underwear

 

white sheep on plant field
Photo by julie aagaard on Pexels.com

Annie the nubile ex-mistress of Stan   and colour fancying neighbour  of Mary has persuaded Mary that as Stan has run away she should find someone else.Mary is doubtful
First of all,Annie cried,you need some brand  new  delicate shoes.No man will be charmed by those chunky ,comfy flatties.Nor do your socks show sophistication.

Though a farmer might be happy with them
She herself wore a pink tweed suit and some high heeled boots in purple patent leather over a blue silk  pair of socks.
Well,Mary,answered,I thought I should be myself because they might be annoyed being tricked.I would be.
That’s their  problem said Annie,  somewhat rudely.
Well.where do I get the sort of socks a man would like,if indeed all men are the same in that way?
I’d stick with silky black ones,said Annie kindly.Then some smart black pumps.That simplifies  life.
But if I look at Soul-mates online the men will not know what shoes I have got on nor socks
That’s true,said Annie.At least until you meet one if you ever do.
Anyway if it is called Soul-mates,why does my body matter?
Don’t be so literal,dear.You know it’s just a way of indicating they want a lover.
Well.in that case it’s my lingerie that matters more than my shoes.
See here,said Annie bossily.With those shoes and socks nobody will want to see your lingerie
Just as well ,said Mary calmly.I don’t have any.
Are you telling me  you have no  underwear on,Annie cried with shock in her tone.Your trousers will need washing more often!!
I am wearing some woollen vests and underpants I got for Stan,Mary said shyly.I like wool.
What do you think a man will assume if you wear that?

That I can’t afford to have the fire on,Mary  queried timidly.
He might think you are transgender.
I have heard of transcendence but not transgender,Mary admitted ruefully.I did used to have  a purple bra, she continued distractedly.
Anyway, what about my learning and job  as a maths professor?
Don’t put  anything about maths on the form.They hate clever women.
Surely they are not all the same,Mary answered.Mary Archer is very clever and she’s been married 50 years
You can’t generalise from one example ,Annie informed her statistically
How about my love of Wittgenstein?Shall I mention that?
If you wear men’s woollen underwear and love a  dead, gay philosopher it will cut down the pool of men available.
I don’t think I’ll bother,Mary whispered.I don’t like fishing.I’d rather have a cup of tea.
Really.said Annie.I don’t know why you decided to try this.
I never did it was you.I am quite happy as I am given the dangers of this world.
And so say most of us.Amen.

I  wish there were no numbers and no dates

I  wish there were no numbers and no dates
I forget them all , yet memory is like   glue
With counting, with remembrance, with  lost mate

There’s  our sorrow and its seas to navigate
The waves rise up and drop, so old so new
I  wish there were no numbers and no dates

Why are modern  hearts so separate?
The seas of knowledge, all are one in  truth
With counting, with remembrance, with   no trace

Oh,universe, why do you have such space
With patterns in the stars, that might us soothe?
If there were no numbers and no dates

Why are we  self labelled as a race?
Slowly, surely we will  dig up truths
With anguish, with remembrance, oh, lost face

When will grace remake a soul so bruised
  Struggling with  the time scale, still bemused
I  wish there were no numbers and no dates
Nor counting, nor remembrance,  nor lost face

 

Now I’ve lost the kettle,it’s alive

I said I’d make a cup of tea at 5
Now I’ve lost the kettle,it’s alive
It must have little feet which I can’t see
When I come here the kettle seems to flee

I feel like  ginger biscuits , angel cakes
Alas my mother wanted me to bake
We mad shortbread, almond  drops  so sweet
They made the men go mad and that’s a feat

Eat  roast beef on Sunday  with these sprouts
Add potatoes then be hit by doubt
Scruples make me ill and I shall die
Wondering if I really killed that fly

We’ll end the world by global trade and flights
Use the petrol well, it may ignite
Why not stay at home and write a poem
Sitting in the garden while bats roam

 After reading sonnets I have vowed
To read a special poem a day outloud
Sylvia Plath  made her  late poems for this
Writing well,  her agony, her bliss

So we reach the end of life on earth
Those who find the ruins won’t feel  much mirth
We died because expansion can’t go on
The balloon explodes, the clever science,  the don

 

The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.

 

Eight o’clock– and the sun’s still glowing
Eight o’clock – of a  colour bright day,
Up above, pink-tinged clouds are sliding
Down still sky, sweeping sun away.

Come back sweet sun, do not leave us.
Come back bright beams,I need sunlight
Down on earth, it’s witch moon darkness,
When your face is out of sight.

I see the  coloured clouds extending
I feel the  sense of sky lit bright.
But gently now, the mist surrounds you
And sweeps away that happy sight.

Into velvet blackness sinking,
The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.
Goodbye to haste,and glare, and sunshine,
Time for reverie,night time calls.

On the night-train’s gentle journeys,
On this  trackless train we ride
Strange visions and haunting pictures
We will see in dreams’ designs.

In my night train,I’ll be happy
In such rich deep reverie.
We visit darkness in our sleeping,
There we learn its ecstasy.

Now we may have no God to hold us,
In His Hands of Living Love,
What will help us trust deep blackness
If there’s no Saviour from above?

Must we enter that great darkness,
Go back to dark from which we came,
Into dark all living creatures,
In that darkness find our home?

Trust the dark unknown, to hold us,
Trust the dark,both night and day.
Must we walk into that darkness
Trust it is our safest way?

Sweden has the highest death-rate: herd immunity,my eye

Photo by Ali Hadbe on Pexels.com
Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com

Guardian today:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/commentisfree/2020/may/23/sweden-covid-19-policy-model-for-right-also-a-deadly-folly

A short extract:

Richard Orange, our correspondent in Stockholm, offered me the wonderful word åsiktskorridoren, “opinion corridor”: the narrow range of views that respectable people hold. They are not constant

Don’t love as if your map is reality

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      A map's a guide to find a world

    Knitted by angels,plain or pearled,

    And though you need a map as guide,

    Keep your own eyes open wide.
   

    I spent a year caught in a map

    Until I found a big enough gap

    I crawled out through this exit slit,

    So here I am,like some half wit.
    

    Words can act like heroin,

    You live so high,where I have been.

    But onto earth I gladly fall.

    The air, the sun, the rain is all.

    
    My senses are my lovers long-

    My ears,my eyes,my skin my tongue.

    The winds caress my naked flesh,

    To dwell on earth is all I wish.
    

    I'll live with mice and birds and plants,

    I'll share my food with miscreants

    I'll keep my words inside a tin;

    And only, now and then,go in.

    
    I'll live with cats and spiders three.

    And like a wild flower grow quite free.

    I' ll give my words to those who hear,

    And eventually I'll disappear

    
    Earth to earth then ash to ash

    When soaked with rain I shall disperse.

    My atoms wing like butterflies,

    And to the Flower I'll fly,disguised.

Someone other takes charge of our boat

The kindness of  our neighbours helps us cope
With life, with death,with many shades between
When we despair and  can’t imagine hope

When the sailor takes us in his boat
When he rows us on a  night-blank sea
The kindness of  our neighbours helps us cope

The world  seems  made to hurt, and then frustrate
The mind confuses   dreams , reality
When we despair and  dare not even hope

 Love is built  as we restrain our hate
Sailing well   a new country we see
The kindness of  our friends helps us  to  cope

Persistence in the virtues   gives us scope
Start again, the angel said to me
When I despaired and  lost my  threads of hope

In our mind love’s buried and unseen
Yet we can raise the dead with energy
The kindness of  our  frriends helps us cope
When we are lost and  mapless is our hope.

Virtue rendered void

Envy poison, friend of vicious hate
We know Cain for he still lives within
Society is built on hellish states

If not so, how can we lay love waste
When time is short, why cut it down with sin?
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate

Do not  hide it, saying  this is “fate”
Through brilliant Sylvia,Ted  asked spirits in
Marriage too is built on awful states

Only with her death, did he relate
One had to go to let the other win
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate

We suffer when we  think  that we need fame
All paper one day ends up in a bin
Society  too is built on loveless states

Comparison and judgment are  no game
Virtue rendered void, our hearts are lame
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate
Can society be built on other states?

 

Crown of Thorns

I’m now too old to go on dates
I’ve got a  partner anyway
He is  funny ,he is strong
Like that coffee, can’t go wrong

He don’t mind my hair is white
So is his, so that’s alright
My body aches like Leoard Cohen’s
I have got such Viking bones

My joints are stiff when I awake
My partner, John,  makes me barm flakes
He brings me tea,I wash his vest
I’ve forgotten what comes next

He likes puddings, he likes cakes
I don’t buy them for his sake
Diabetes is so  cruel
Sugar in the blood’s not  cool

Instead we eat  bananas dyed
We eat tangerines  besides
We eat apples, we eat  pears
Lentil cakes  of sugar  bare

We have cocoa before bed
Never stand on a man’s head
Let him drink his milky  way
Then kneel down and say a prayer

Thank  Lord God that we have a bed
Thank our God,  we are  not dead
Tell him  life on earth is sad
We keep fighting, that’s no good

Pray for Syria,  pray for peace
Pray for folks  with anguished hearts
Mental illness,  cruelty, death
Children  who are  motherless

Those who  torture, those who kill
This is  clearly not God’s will
Pray that those whose bombs do ill
Notice  Jesus on his Hill

Tortured by the human race
He sought the humble not the base
Crown of Thorns  that final pain
God may die; can Love remain?

Was it Beaumont Street.St Giles or Tennessee?

Soon I came back to the world of men
Give me a banana,I’m your hon.

I came back into England from the sky
God don’t want my body, just my eye

I    fell upside down and hit the road
I feel  sorry for that flattened toad

I saw a fast car  coming straight at me
Was it Beaumont Street.St Giles or Tennessee?

My bike was old but  nothing one would note
Until the tourist’s car came by and smote

The driver fled before the police could act
In one way, that showed a certain tact

St Giles is far too wide for any town
Can I have my head back when it’s down?

We’re in a film we are not real at all
Is that a consequence of Adam’s Fall?

I went  into the Radcliffe for a check
My whole body seemed as blue as black

I did not feel afraid up in the sky
If I die, oh if I die, please cry

 

Lying on a trolley, feeling Zen

Cycling in the dark  one Friday night 
Down St Giles, deserted without lights
On my way to  rehearse with my church  choir
I never got through  Oxford, struck by liars

A car was coming at enormous speed
Is this to be my end, that tourist’s dream?
Time slowed down,I  went up very slow
This world  a film,a construct, down below

I fell as slowly as I’d risen  up
Till I landed on my head,my jacket ripped
Yes, you really do see stars,I told myself
Not a metaphor, the shocking truth

Then I was inside the film again
Lying on a trolley, feeling Zen

The Catherine wheel, the longing, the desire

Oh, my brother, I have said goodbye
Once my little playmate, you must die
Your voice is very weak as there you rest
I wish that life were not a  cruel test

I told you  of the see saw and the swings
I will not argue, this is what life brings
Remembered  fireworks and the  blazing fire
The Catherine wheel, the longing, the desire

How can a boy so strong soon turn to dust?
Where has gone the liveliness, the lust?
Weak but uncomplaining you lie there
On my face I feel a film of tears

You’ll never die, you’ll live on in my mind
I forgive your acts,  for you were  blind

The wrens

My front hedge is so thick, wrens made a nest
I saw a small bird flying low and swift
With my garden I feel human, blessed

The bonsai beech has grown till almost dense
It has no trunk, the leaves are tiny  gifts
My front hedge is so full, wrens made a nest

My clematis has flowered beyond  all sense
When I looked  I felt my soft heart lift
In my garden, know that I am blessed

In a deep green  wood the eye can rest
Open eyed, a look  must not be fast
My front hedge welcomes wrens ,oh,love,a nest!

Deep happiness connects us  to what’s best
The dark blue sky, the sunset flaming,  brief.
With my garden I feel love, I ‘m blessed

 Be alive, don’t dwell on thoughts too sweet
The natural world   brings virtue  and deceit
My front hedge is so thick, wrens made a nest
These tiny  creatures filled with  love and zest