So you don’t like J C ?

 

 

Clement Attlee founded the NHS.He was a Labour PM who did good things

 

https://whitstableviews.wordpress.com/2019/12/04/so-you-dont-like-jeremy-corbyn/

“You like his policies. You want railways and other utilities back in public hands. You don’t see why foreign-based state-owned rail companies should be taking profits from our subsidised rail system. You want to see our Health Service properly funded. You don’t want to see it sold off in a trade deal with the Americans. You don’t want to see our nurses using food banks. You think that corporations that use our infrastructure should be properly taxed. You are against tax havens and tax cuts for the rich. You are fed up with foreign wars.

But you don’t like Jeremy Corbyn.” End of quote

What would Jesus do?

We wounded hide away

10363756_491792187620581_3914824934932227777_n (1)If I could see your heart and soul and know your feelings past 
 and if you knew mine
 we could   guess why our expectations go so wrong
 because at that moment what was said seemed right but looked at from a wider perspective 
Some  words we said were  errors
or at least not expressed in a way that communicated what we really  meant….
And how painful it is to hurt a beloved person…
Beloved…….I don’t believe you after the cruel you wrote…….
this is the confusion of the human condition…
when fear for a  time eclipses the  warm sun of love
when everything seems dark and  one can only wish to hide away.
…… to protect others from knowing……….
yet the message they get does not say that  the intention………
to protect them and it seems like a total rejection…..
I’m not good enough for you……
I don’t want to hurt you.
Don’t hurt me.
Yet the eclipse will end the sun will shine again………
 and it gives us compassion for others ……….
We don’t take an eclipse personally…………
but with people………………… it’s hard not to do so……
 yet there’s so much we don’t know……… or can’t know
so trust is all we can do….
trust what we once saw………….
and take down the barbed wire we put around our hearts………
 let ourselves be touched and touch.
 When words are not enough…………
we have a rich silence….
 the gaps between the words can say so much.
……to those gifted with understanding
When words refuse to come…….. 
we can share our silence ………
and keep it empty not full of dread or images of fear
until words begin to flow…
like tears.. welcome after a drought,,,,,,
when  our  words hide…. we will find them………….
so much is unknown…………….. we can’t know………
and past losses and rejections   haunt us………
filling the pregnant space with pain.
Yet words can comfort too…console, c
caress,
make communion possible
….words………….
they are all we have…… we‘ ll make them enough somehow.
…..learn their ways and how to use them to touch gently the other’s heart.
……and show, and share our love
………….not use them as a sword…………..
 use them with care….to show care,,,,to show love..
.and regret our faults and failings … but not attacking ourselves cruelly
 stop punishing ourselves….~
have mercy on ourselves 
Have mercy on others…..
We are all vulnerable
We  may miss so much because we are afraid
Wounds can heal,will heal

Have mercy
Accept the pain until we are healed
Then we start again

English idioms maze the minds we lost

English idioms maze the minds of most
Every cloud is  lined in silver cloth
I put my foot in it now I’m divorced

If I’m  late the wife will have my guts
What on earth is meant by the Lord’s wrath?
English  natives speak in  words and grunts

 

Straight from the horses mouth,  seems  rather coarse
If you  want    to  bid, you merely cough
I put my foot in it now I’m divorced

There’s no fool like an old one , shall we laugh?
The tea could hardly crawl out of the pot
English  natives speak,  we’re twice as daft?

She looked as nice as pi … is that in maths?
Her wardrobe was the envy of the  gods
I put my foot in it now I’m divorced

Ever seen old boots, well she is not
Ever been  on  Tubes, well mind the doors
English idioms bruise the minds of hosts
I put my foot in it ,now I’m divorced

Spent a lifetime hanging off a ledge

Ah,rebellious spirit wanting space
With my finger on the map I paced
I climbed Helvellyn, fell off Striding Edge
Spent a lifetime hanging off a ledge

Meanwhile our kind teacher twittered on
Thomas Hardy, Hopkins., we were numb
She never mentioned she saw my escape
The way the nuns  hurt me, the bitter rape

I slipped  on High White Stones and almost  dropped
My feet were dangling off the  fearsome rocks 
No-one knew for I was climbing last
Know me  please but never learn my past

How quickly life has  run since I could climb
Now I merely sit here draped in rhymes

The cyclamen, the lily and the earth

The cyclamen, the lily and the earth
The potted plants ,green leaves , distil the air
The lily is for peace. the rose for worth

Let no human live in pain or cursed
Let the golden light enwrap  them here
The cyclamen, the lily and the earth

The waxy flowers of cyclamen bring mirth
Bring  gratitude in winter when all’s bare
The lily is for peace. the rose for worth

I feel my hands are reaching for a brush
The watercolour paints    bring their allure
The cyclamen, the lily and the earth

Then I see a flower trod on  and crushed
It seems to bleed like Jesus,tears my eye.
The lily is for peace. the rose for worth

Nature has its truth and so do I
Many times I weep, bewail and cry
The cyclamen, the lily and the earth
The lily is for peace. the rose for birth

I didn’t know about the horrible ads

 

 

person wearing yellow shoes
Photo by Dids on Pexels.com

I have changed to a paid for account here as a friend told me there were ads for foot fungus remedies and images of ugly feet

I am sorry about this.I didn’t  get any  money out of it and I would never  do that for money

My website is now [ if my memory is correct]

https://words-cat.com/

I’ll check this and correct asap

I stood  like a stone

Down the kitchen  stairs they carried you
Two men were enough, the coffin crew
I wanted to take off the lid to see
If Daddy was  asleep. had not left me

Mute and frozen I stood  like a stone
In this the place we  loved and made a home
We knelt down by the fire to say night prayers
The flames  stood up like  fingers  in  the air

The soot fell down, we had a little brush
To sweep the ash,remains of  forests crushed.
Later grand-dad died , my brothers  pale
Carried  his dear coffin down the aisle

 Imagined  into being by the Mass
Jesus whispered   when the storm   had passed

As long as I can see  your love and you

 

I  must have shrunk my spectacles fall off
When I bend or when I have a cough
Then it’s hard to find them  on the floor
I stagger to the spare ones in a drawer

I rarely throw most older  glasses out
For  eyes may change and older ones might suit
I’m wearing ones from 13 years ago
No wonder I keep seeing heaps of snow

I wish I could see better but  make do
As long as I can see  your love and you
As long as I can read and choose my clothes
I shall be   patient,silent on these woes

For some born blind will never see the flowers
The eyes of infants, trees and sun  and showers

Love me, love me, someone hold me tight

You were angry ,I was much too bright
You taught me to play chess,  then felt regret
The man must be the one who knows the rites

I didn’t know you minded my insight
When I won the game,  you were upset
You were angry; I was   madly bright

I think you loved my  body in the night
You loved my  golden hair both dry and wet
The man must be the one who knows the rites

At least you did not scratch nor did you bite
I weep for  I  just found   that old chess set
You were  dying but I managed all the rites

Love me, love me, someone hold me tight
I’m crying  for his touch,  my face is wet
The man might be the one   who must depart

I  shall live my future in your debt
You gave me all you had with no regret
You were angry, for an hour,  then  you were calm
As Gd came down and wrapped you  in his arms

 

Stan and the angel

  • \
  • imageedit_13_4106504267Stan had eaten too much pizza because he was extremely ravenous from doing the washing. and hanging it up on the mulberry tree in his long garden Now he felt lazy and haphazardly dim and other worldly and liable to have visions..
    Now and then he saw an angel whom he called Yael in his home.But having looked up Yael on a website he realised she was not a very nice woman unlike his dear wife Mary.So he was planning a new name for the angel with her permission
  • Do you mind if I change your name,he enquired gently when Yael came in through the French window.
    Well,what to? Yael asked him familiarly
    How about Ysabel? Stan offered.It’s got just an extra b and s.
    Or how about,Sybael?
    You seem fond of b and s, the angel answered in confusion.
    It was just mere chance,said Stan somewhat defensively.
    Ok I’ll take Sybael,the angel said loudly .

    I want to change my name too, said Emile the cat of Stan.
    How about Mebiles or Melibes or Eimbles….
    I don’t know, pouted the cat haughtily.
    How about Semile,said Stan.T
    hough it has no letter b in it, he bragged.
    They all pondered quietly as the sun shone in through the window and made a lovely lacy pattern on the wall.

    In came Mary,Stan’s sweet old wife and his computer aided extension too.
    You are very quiet,she murmured.What’s going on here ?
    We are trying to find a new name for Emile,Stan told her as Sybael waved her wings about.
    It seems very draughty in here,Mary said.
    And Emile can’t change his name because it will change his personality.
    I didn’t know I had a personality,the little cat purred.
    It is what is most characteristic of you.For example, if you always hurt those you love then you have a cruel personality or you have got diabetes.Some people want love but they are too harsh and demanding.
    So true,Stan added pensively.
    Anyway,I have some awfully strange news,Mary went on.
    You just won’t believe this but Dorothy Grey who lives at the bottom of the hill has just had a heart attack.
    How come?
    She had an online love relationship with a rather peculiar but intriguing and clever elderly man who turned out to be a sadist in disguise.So when she ended the affair he flew over and attacked her with an air gun and some cat’s claws which he had bought from a cat market
    Is he a wizard,asked Emile.
    No, he flew on a stolen magic carpet from Persia.
    Persian carpets,I’d love one here said the cat greedily
    Actually it’s a kind of plane,said Stan.
    How boring ,said Mary angrily.
    Anyway Dorothy was so shocked her arteries spasmed and she is in A and E now on morphine,she added…
    What a shame that she got that instead of a spasm elsewhere….Stan muttered thinking of Freud.
    But who’d have sex with such a horrible old man? Mary asked.
    An equally horrible old woman,maybe? Stan riposted.
    Any way it all goes to show the dangers of online love, he informed the room.
    It’s not real love,is it, because in real love the other person is as important to you as yourself.Mary said theologically.
    Well. now Eros is a kind of love,too.But many old men just want their washing done and a companion.Eros has departed from their world.
    Sybael smiled and then flew out of the window.

    What was that noise, said Mary anxiously.
    Just an angel’s wings,said Stan quietly
    If only Dorothy had seen an angel instead of that harsh old man she might be much better now.Mary mused.But not everyone can see them.Their world seems full of horrible old men and beautiful young women
    Emile winked at Stan and then ran out to chase a butterfly amongst the scented tulips.. there were lots of angels there every day but only he knew.
    Angels don’t like big modern cities but they like old abbeys and cathedrals and places where such things used to be before post modernist architecture took over.
    And cat’s claws are not meant for scratching your loved ones either.And online dating should be avoided except with atheists and agnostics.They are less judgemental about women’s place and roles.It’s strange how harsh many religious people are.Harsh and unforgiving.

We’re not supposed to say

You know the widow’s sad and can mourn and grieve all day
But the anger and the hatred,she’s not supposed to say
She can cry  upon the duvet, she can scream under the stairs
But the rage and  irritation are  not to be declared
She can order man size tissues in boxes multiplied
But the venomous ,vindictive  imply that love had died
She can  be  dissociated, she can be without affect
But if  she says how well  she hated him, everybody’s vexed
Who can live so closely for forty and five years
Without needing a  dressmaker to sew up all the tears?
Who can  be accepting when money and time’s scarce
There’s a war inside the heart of us,   everybody knows
Scratched and bitten daily,   struck by falling stars
Who  knows what we’re feeling . what is out too far?

His love was all too clear

I  am angry he has died and left me  here
He hated my intelligence unwise
Yet while he lived  our love contained our fear

He loved whiskey even more than beer
He loved my skin and  even my great eyes
I ‘m angry he has died and left me  here

He did not have much money that was clear
But oh he sees a bigger car, then buys
Yet while he lived  our love contained our fear

He drove too fast when angry, I was scared.
He brought me  lovely gifts as a surprise
I ‘m angry he has died and left me  here

He woke before he died and uttered  here
You are a brilliant presence,Katherine, wise
And while he lived  his love contained my fear

I was a trophy wife, what will men  try?
He liked my looks but  not  how bright my mind
I ‘m angry he has died and left me  here
Though while he lived   he drank  my nectar dear

 

 

 

He is in the dark

I have nightmares, is that a surprise?
The time is coming for the new bright Ark
What one  might love another one might  hide

My husband drags me  out  so we can fly
To  where he chooses,I have made no mark
I have nightmares, is that a surprise?

I resist,I fear  more UTIs
I’m unwell but he is in the dark
Where one  might live another one might   die

Some fiend attacks us,   danger is no lie
I cannot fight, my weapons are too sparse
I have nightmares, is that a surprise?

Another night, it’s insects dark, malign
Then my husband leaves me ,won’t converse
What one  might show another one might  hide

Is my life a list of times adverse?
Of sleeping and of waking, which  is worse?
I have nightmares, is that a surprise?
Where one  might laugh another one might   cry

 

 

 

The Second Coming

dublin night reflections sea
Photo by Picography on Pexels.com

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43290/the-second-coming

 

The Second Coming

Launch Audio in a New Window

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
n/a
Source: The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (1989)

 

Yeats’ most famous poems

 

 

white concrete building beside the body of water
Photo by Mark Dalton on Pexels.com

10 Most Famous Poems By William Butler Yeats

 

#1 THE SECOND COMING

Published: 1920

This poem was written at the end of the First World War and the beginning of the Irish War of Independence. In it Yeats uses Christian imagery regarding the Apocalypse and Second Coming to describe the atmosphere of post-war Europe. The speaker first gives an account of anarchy and violence in the world; and then uses it as a sign to indicate that “the Second Coming is at hand.” He concludes with the prophesy that a rough beast is on its way to Bethlehem, the birthplace of Christ, to be born into the world. The Second Coming is regarded as one of the most important works of Modernist poetry. It is one of the most influential poetic works of the 20th century and the most famous poem by William Butler Yeats.

Excerpt:-

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

United in Bravery

Photo by Mau00ebl BALLAND on Pexels.com
Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

The horror of the London Bridge attack where 2 people were killed brought  out the best in some men nearby as they tackled the  man  before the police and prevented him stabbing anyone else

After Brexit, let’s  be  grateful  for  our   brave people, who risked their own lives and stop the civil war of words and actions

 

 

https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2019/nov/30/narwhal-tusk-and-fire-extinguisher-used-to-tackle-london-bridge-attacker

 

Extract

Three members of the public, including one armed with a fire extinguisher and another a 5ft narwhal tusk, grappled with and eventually grounded the London Bridge knife attacker before police arrived.

Footage has emerged showing people at the scene surrounding the attacker, who is eventually pinned to the ground. One man sprays him with a fire extinguisher before trying to hit him with it, while another approaches him with a narwhal tusk, lunging at him. It is believed the item was pulled from the wall of Fishmongers’ Hall.

Trust the dark

Photo0205

Photo my own

Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the  union of two cells.
An act of love  and total giving,
Which has produced whom you call self

Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.

Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.

Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise
And I trust all shall be well.

Love without reward

img_20191128_114117http://micahlapidus.com/love-without-reward/

Extract:

What is spirituality? It is connection. It is either the desire to connect with another person, the natural world, or something intangible, or the recognition that this connectedness is an essential part of the human experience.

The love that Levinas describes is an expression of this connectedness. Love cannot exist without connection. Connection is the foundation of spiritual experience. Love is a heightened form of spiritual experience, a connection so deep that it falls into this profound relational category.

Does it matter what the numbers where?

 For 1600 days I woke alone
Does it matter what the numbers where?
25 x 64  unknown

For 1600 nights I sleeping moaned
Does sorrow  have to make us feel too bare?
For 1600 days I woke alone

1600  dreams , you   cracked my bones
Does  there have to be  a number bar?
25 x 64  unknown

 For 1600 , 2  to power stole
Does   crime like that  show how you broke my heart?
For 1600 days I woke alone

For 1600, 5 is squared and  bold
Does that   throw us off the apple cart?
25 x 64 , a poem

Why  does the mind  too lone become a liar ?
Who will stoke its everlasting pyre?
For 1600 days I woke alone
32 x 50  what’s this game?

200 days times 8……my mind now claims
For forty days  did Jesus learn Love’s  game
400 days times 4,   is that  your claim?
100 days times sixteen, naught remains

Illusions

Women screen themselves without the veil
Wear their   cream foundation, dye their hair
Get push up bras with wires as thick as cords
Thongs  that I have seen  when jeans are worn!
They wear dark glasses, strands of  lucid pearls
Hoping to attract a deviant earl
They wear pyjamas ,claiming to be cold
Or polyester nighties   men can’t hold
But Shakespeare said that all the world’s a stage
This fills me with  annoyance. even rage
Yet I see it’s true  when I go out
Disguise myself  with crutches and shoes stout
Cut my hair till hardly any’s left
That is right,I  act like I am deaf
I wash it in the kitchen with  the plates
The water’s hot and  hair cannot escape
It looks pathetic  yet I am so old
White hair is the fashion for the bold
I smile with pensive attitude and    plead
Do not  quarrel if I act with speed