When we bombed Iraq

Do you remember when we bombed Iraq?
No doubt the war was for  the good of man
Yeah, some would die,  and others feel their lack

By and large, what does it mean to sack?
Real  democracy  was said to be the plan
Do you remember when we bombed Iraq?

In Downing St will Blair have a blue plaque?
His conviction, where did it begin?
Yeah, some would die,  and others feel their lack

Now  the Leader wanders  in the gaps
But we no longer call such deeds a sin
Do you remember when we bombed Iraq?

At night when we can’t sleep, we see  attacks
Where to start, well Trump  suggests Iran
Yeah, some will die, but  there is  heaven   for wrecks

Since we write, we read  our scripts again
Civilised, we use our manners well
Do you remember when we bombed Iraq?
Yeah,  we chose to   follow   Evil’s tracks

 

 

Her pure nylon nightdress covered in snakes

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Photo by Mike Flemming

Annie went onto Mary’s patio at 10 am and  began  to water her many  tubs.The watering can was filled with rain water though the weather was now  a  little drier.Emile ran behind her admiring her  tight  black jeans from Calvin Klein and her red blouse from Bowlands of  Wrath.Suddenly the bedroom window opened and Mary leaned out.
Hi Annie,I have not gone away after all.I
Why not? asked her caring and dear  neighbour loutishly.
Well,I completely forgot because I was out last night meeting a man from Soul-mates and got home so late I slept right through the alarm.
A pity you didn’t bring him back,said Annie licking her lips.
I cant  bring any man here so soon,Mary   informed her.I rang the hotel and cancelled my booking.With the weather so  odd even Blackpool Illuminations would not cheer anyone up.I didn’t know which clothes to take either.
Isn’t it interesting that as we get better off we get problems like that,remarked Annie. When we were young we had so few clothes we had no trouble  packing.
Mary laughed.My first year after University I bought two cotton dresses  in Woolworth’s.I thought they were  ok but later discovered they were almost transparent.Anyway we wore them  and threw them away.But now few women wear dresses.Look at you in those jeans and you a pensioner!
Annie gazed up to Mary, revealing her  thick Revlon skin polish and L’Oreal cream  rich foundation in golden grey-beige.Her parted lips were coated in moisture rich coral lipstick by  Mussolini and Co. of Argentina and Vienna.
Mary was wearing a long nightgown made of pure nylon decorated with photos of cats of all breeds.Emile had given it her for her birthday.He had managed to type it into the google box on his laptop paying with Stan’s credit card from the Bank of Vichy and Nice,France.
I want some tea,Mary said.Soon she appeared in a  polyester house dress from Daxon of Paris and the Ruhr. lt was covered in   pictures of snakes.
Why,those snakes are rather horrible, Annie said.
I know snakes are in fashion but I shall avoid them.I saw some trousers in Marks but they might give a man the wrong impression.
That is sexist ,Mary told her shyly.They might give a lesbian the wrong impression too.
Oh,dear. Isn’t life hard now when we have to be so careful what we say.I wonder if it is because of social alienation and the rapid changes in demographics that we need rules when before we knew all our neighbours and they knew  us.With strangers we need more rules.
I agree, said Mary defiantly.And I just saw a book called “Compassionate Assertiveness Training”She laughed.
Shall we send one to Donald  Trump.Can you  believe what America is like if a man like that can be President?
Well,it’s a democracy so if Satan lived there he could stand if he had  the money..
The two  women suddenly fell silent.Emile was puzzled as they rarely paused like this once they got going
Is he the anti-Christ, purred the little cat.
Satan or Donald Trump? asked Annie.
Well …. we’ve never seen Satan as yet…But we must watch out in case he comes here to punish the weak and the sick.
Well that gave them all a moment of wonder before Mary grilled some bacon and cut some bread from a loaf she got   in  the Victoria Bakery.
Here you are,she said to Annie,handing her a sandwich.Better eat anyway,whatever happens.Give me some  hot tea,quick
And so pray all of us.
For he’s a Bally Woodfiller,
He’s a Wooly Sad Triller
And all day so are us.

Gently dancing in the sun

Gently dancing in the sun,
Wildflowers grow;
they bloom,
are gone.

With no thoughts,they have no cares;
And their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.

So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours
And of us nothing shall endure.

As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so

Regret,remorse,reaction,reckless day

Now Cain does not kill Abel his own kin
With his drones he kills men faraway
As if his hatred can’t be held within

We can feel enraged as  can women,men
When others needs decide the game we play
So  envious Cain  killed Abel,  his own kin

In the end , dark Cain could never win
Regret,remorse,reaction,reckless day
 He had no space for  calming rage within

With new powers, Cain  can bomb Iran
Convulsive hate enjoyed, then perhaps dismay?
But Cain does not kill Abel. his own kin

Have  we learned no lessons from Japan?
I am become death,I heard O say
Visions of  the burning with no skin

There  will be reactions some grave day
More death, more suffering, what can  we declare?
If Cain does not kill Abel what comes then?
Does hatred find new targets, distant men?

 

 

Polite force

My husband had never looked  livid
He died down in  ourA and E.
His colour was vivid
His hair was  all withered
He cried,Where the hell do  I be?

I said,you’re in bed with a lady
So I’ll arrange for a speedy divorce.
You’ll have to hurry,
If you wish to re-marry.
If needs be, I shall use  polite force.

He winked at me solemn as Moses
After wandering the Sinai for years.
He said,Dear I love you
There’ no lady above you
Don’t spend too much on my hearse.

Would you like me to marry my lover?
He’s gone cold waiting out in the shed!
He said,don’t ask me yet  for
My  mood’s on a see -saw
Take whom you like when you wed.

But first  give me a nice service
Sing Pie Jesu for me!
Your voice is so sweet
It shall be my last treat.
Oh,Lord,how I  deeply love thee.

I said that is  very ambiguous
Do you love me  best or Jesu?
He said I love both
Yet I love God the most.
So there’s not very much I can do.

He imitated a dying   philanderer.
But alas it was only too real.
My hand on his nose
Almost gave up the ghost.
It froze  and it stuck like a seal.

Oh,doctor can you separate us
For I am not yet quite dead?
My only concern
Is to take a short turn
As my boyfriend is  alone in the shed.

You sinner,the doctor said to me
You committed adultery twice.
Well,I had to be kind
My boyfriend’s half blind.
Is that an excuse for my vice?

I didn’t want love in the garden
As we might have frightened a snail.
It’s not quite  infidelity
To love a man gently
When your husband’s as dead as a nail.

Anyway,my heart is no  longer alive,doc
In the shadow of death ,life is weak
I pretended to be  wicked
As my husband often  bickered
Diabetics  make their carers feel bleak.

I see you were lost in fantasia,
While singing the psalms to your spouse.
I shall forgive you
No-one else lives like you.
You have often kept your wedding vows.

What do you mean saying often?
He’s the only man  I’ve ever loved.
For his sense of humour
Cleared out all my  gloomour
I called him my chicken,my dove.

The force of procreation is violent
And drives lonely women to bed.
God made us like this
As he made  grass snakes hiss.
Upon hearing this the doc fled!

On my feet

My lover is a  man of many words
Most of them are totally absurd
When I asked him why he had to speak
He said ,I was only thinking on my feet

I met him is the staff room  yesterday
He says he is putting on a Shakespeare Play
I guess it’s chance  just who we get to meet
Are we only learning on  our feet ?

He  is  wholly reticent on the phone
His silence makes me feel I am alone
So we went to Express Pizza for a treat
Are we only eating with  our feet ?

He reads Tolstoy, he reads Sherlock  Holmes
He reads those little numbers on the phone
He is a vegetarian,how sweet
Are we keen on keeping off our feet ?

He likes learning languages  so much
 We  have to dream in Yiddish,Greek and Dutch
He has been to Russia. quite discreet
Are they  prone to sleeping on their feet ?

I like cooking lemons and meringues
He is getting  violent hunger pangs
I thought it was a hurricane with sleet
But we  were only  freezing on  our feet

 

We must be creative as we talk
Listen and   pay heed if men look fraught
Lord have mercy, I am far too  light
I am levitating on my feet

The branches  in the breeze  sway , cats miaow

Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs
No asking where to go or what to do
Before the blossom and  emerging bulbs

No outdoor flowers  decorate  my tubs
The waxy flowered cyclamens are few
Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs

As I watch the sparrows my heart ‘s stilled
The  politics, the corrections are subdued
Yet  trees will blossom  over crocus bulbs

The leaders seek to force a war by will
No reflection, certain what to do
Would I were a sparrow on the sill

Will the warships move their mighty hulls?
From bow to stern they ‘re filled with bombs for U
Yet  trees will blossom  over  tiny bulbs

The branches  in the breeze  sway , cats miaow
Was evolution wise for chimpanzees?
Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs
Our species cannibals ,  can we not love?

 

 

 

 

 

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?

Yes, my husband is a changed man since he died
I have  dreamed  of him  so frequently  he hides
One night we knelt  down on the kitchen floor
With brillo pads in hand we scrubbed the door

Then we cleaned the oven for two hours
Death has given him  such odd new powers
He never speaks nor asks me what to do
Thank the Lord our fireplace  no flue

I see more of him  now  that he is dead
For every night these dreams  live in my head
He does not go to work nor write more books
He goes to Ealing and he wants to cook

Should I buy some ground in the church yard?
I have his ashes standing by the lard
In the fridge the suet   waits for me
To make an apple dumpling for our tea


Oh, yes he likes to know what I shall eat
He starved to death,his heart was far too weak
But yet he likes to see  me eat and sleep
And have a little   cat next to my feet

So far I do not love another man
I should become pan-sexual if I can
For then I need  not worry who to please
I hate to lose myself  but like to tease

Should my husband see   me in the bed
With another pillow and a head
He might feel unwanted  and be sad!
Yet he left me and now I’m feeling mad

Why  clean the oven, clean the kitchen sink?
Why change the plugs and make the cat drink ink?
Why have breakfast, why eat bread and jam?
Why cook bacon in the frying pan?

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?
Why get up  when I shall later lie?
Why get washed when dirt  comes back again?
Why wash my hair and use a fountain pen?

I wonder why the floor is full of mud
And whether nature gave me enough blood.
Life is so precarious  use it well
Before we hear the  tolling of  the knell

 

 

A glowing screen

Our names wiill come up on a  glowing screen 
This is why we fund the NHS
Everyone  wants fame, to be a scream
But I  just want post traumatic  congress

I sit  down peering   furtively, bizarrely
Eventually I’m sitting there  alone
I knew I’d not fit in that  group of monsters
I am hyper vigilant  when I’m at home

Now I feel both desolate and rejected
They did not want my blood , it is too red
Then I found myself ejected
Without a lump of honey on my bread

The doctor wanted 20 different readings
At this rate it will take forever more
I see a mist of red,  my temper’s  rising
Help me to  the flexi- exit door

If this be love

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Image by Katherine

If this be love,then let me have your hate.
If you be true then let me hear your lies.
For this,  my heart, your message comes too late.
For now my need is  for the thoughtful wise.

 

If this be marriage,let me have divorce.
If this be holy,  hasten I to hell..
For love comes in its time without such force.
And of its message ?ho am I to tell?

 

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.
If this be love, I will be forever chaste.
Your  love is like a blow that breaks my bones
A love that lays your world and mine to waste

 

Real love can shake us to our inner core.

Of your self centered love. tell me no more

 

The doll

They gave me a small watch on Xmas Day
But with a watch a little child can’t play
I envied both my sisters with  new dolls
As on the old settee the dolls were lulled

I stood  there uncomprehending and alone
Had I reached unknowing a milestone?
Then my sister lent  me one of hers
I broke that little  head  upon my chair

I was holding her with tenderness
Scarcely breathing in my velvet dress
So   I sat down to   rock  my babe  awhile
The horror of   her  cracking head was vile

Now I play with  numbers and with  words
And   look back sadly at that little girl

 

We broke the symbols down and we are mad

Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread
Nothing  stays the same ,much as we hope
He drowns with refugees,  he crawls in mud

Life and God aren’t static.souls have fled
Do not deny  the loss,  nor  its great scope
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread

Europe cracked ,  a billion billion   dead
Unacknowledged evil  is the rope
He burned with  Europe’s Jews ,we lust in bed

The War’s not gone, it lives inside the head
We do not need a thousand microscopes
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread

The symbol’s done, the  bread of heaven ‘s bad
We “Christians” were not there when Jesus  spoke
Christ burned with  gypsies, queers , was shot unclad

It’s over, people,what  we  never read.
We  ruined  the world ,  destroyed the ones who fled
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread
He drowned  and burned was shot,he’s truly dead

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anthropomorphism is my default now

 

 

 

This photo is copyright   to me

 

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthropomorphism

I treated this strange creature  with great care
I  knew she was not human, so unfair
She looked like my old cat before it died
Someone give her food,  make sure it’s fried

She could not mew nor bark nor did she speak
I did not tell her that she was a freak
She liked to use her hair as a defence
Peering out  as if in recompense

But if I’d cut it off, she would have screamed
As she watched  the music  fly in streams
She saw her visions and she talked to Lights
Noone  human   is vouchsafed such sights

But still I   liked to gorge on her cheese flan
She might not act  quite human but   who can?

 

We left the  old Road Atlas in a box

London is bewildered by its roads
The Circular, the North,the South,  the Codes
The Morse  and the  Enigma Turing broke
So now we have new bicycles with spokes

Once we had the A to Z  in hand
Turn it upside down and you’ll be grand
New technology has  made  great strides
Carrying us to Eden ,what a ride

The motorways are  empty  for  tonight
God decided  we had too much Light
He  taught the bare cheeked Moon   on Jesus’ mount
To turn the other side when love’s about

I liked to use a compass and a map
But now, my dear,  most everything’s on tap
I crouch  beneath my sister as she drives
In the dark on the M 25

But if it’s closed, we are completely foxed
We left the  old Road Atlas in  a box
Along with all my ex’s underpants
And naturally  his principles of Kant

We may be in Watford  or in Bucks
I  often wonder what will rhyme with luck
We may be near St Alban’s, we can’t see
The car ran up the trunk of this oak tree

We rang 999  and they are here
A fire engine filled  up with Kentish beer
A ladder  for the ladies to climb down
Now they are just women on the town

London won’t exist ,destroyed by cars
Angry men who cannot find a bar

The raspberry canes, the honesty know more

The empty canes of raspberries  hang low
Red maple leaves are mashed up in the mud
 Nature  seems to  hover by death’s door 

Animals and humans drained as whores
No feeling ,no  green sap,no  flowing blood
The crackling canes of raspberries hang low

What can we say un-cliched, metaphored?
At dawn the sun will  burn despite the Flood
Nature  did not force us through death’s door 

Can the death  of God    mean this and more,
Though love and hate are fractured, life is good?
The chuckling canes  the berries sang below

Can  a life  with heart not be restored?
End  retaliation,   understand
Nature  did not wave us through  the door 

At the edge of Europe  are no hordes
Jesus is  more small  than any  bud
The crackling canes stored laughter in their cores

The remnants of the foxgloves in the wood
Wave politely . even seem to nod
The raspberry canes, the honesty know more
Nature ,light and darkness, affect stored

 

Why write poetry?

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3 Reasons You Should Write Poetry Today

Extract

The greatest reason to write poetry is because it will make all of your writing better. I promise you.

Poetry gives you a deeper understanding of the language and it allows you to see your writing differently. Poetry enables you to express yourself and your ideas better.

Take Shakespeare for example.

Shakespeare began his career as an actor and a playwright. In the middle of his career, in 1593 & 1594, the theaters were closed due to the plague. During that time, Shakespeare began to publish poetry.

After these two years, Shakespeare went back to writing plays again, but something had changed.

Previously, Shakespeare had written mainly comedies and histories. After taking the time to write poetry, he wrote dramas and tragedies, like Romeo and Juliet and Macbeth. These later works are considered some of the finest works in the English language.

All heart

The slanted beauty of the winter light
On people walking by , their shadows long
The day of beauty and the deep, dark night

The gift of gladness and of our  own sight
Be your weakness, then you  might be strong
The slanted beauty of the winter light

Do not let your mouth with sarcasm bite
Pause before you act or write or fling
On days of beauty and their still, dark nights

Free like colour runs  when wet  yet bright 
Translucence of  love’s  eye can make one sing
Of slanted beauty  in  the winter light

 This  is just one day, and yet  Good might
Be here and now, eternal in our songs
On days of beauty and their too dark nights

The one we love must speak in their own tongue
Truth  will stand and with it we belong
Oh slanted beauty and your winter light
You make the day  all heart, bring long sweet nights

 

 

 

A dinghy holds the Saviour

Snow clouds hang  like   canopies forlorn,
Tinged with grey from lack of proper care,
While from the Channel sing the dread foghorns

Sailors in  the night  long for  new  dawn
Fear  boats of refugees may still sail there
Snow clouds hang  like   canopies well torn

A dinghy  holds the Saviour  lately born
There is no space on earth safe  from  great fear
From the Channel sigh the  families   drowned

From maternal’ space, Jesu  is torn
His father holds his arms  around  those dear
Snow clouds hang, are  lacy wings  no more

The hearts of  British ” natives”  have turned sour
Into Jesu’s side we thrust  our spears
Tune the channel.Requiems need scores

All  lives now, and all of time is here
Do not  mistake the song of silent choirs.
Snow clouds hang  like   canopies forlorn,
While in the Channel,  stuttering are the horns