The Easter sun came through the rich stained glass
A little child illuminated passed.
The shining floor below the roof above
The glowing light a symbol of deep love
At this moment normal time had gone
Absorbed into the mysteries of the sun.
Then the child ran off, a cloud came by
Eternity has passed with just a sigh
I ‘ll try to get it right for one more time
You did not converse with me in words
You were simply present in your Light
Nowhere did I feel your power and might
You were no eagle, but a little bird
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time.
Who made our language with its subtle rhymes?
The ancient people had their well trained Scribes
You were always there,oh gentle Light
You gave me warmth, you changed my too fixed sight
A comforter , a Spirit, how describe?
I ‘ll try to get it right a final time.
The agony inside me lost its bite
I wanted to go on, to be alive
You do not always show your golden Light
We do not know when we at last arrive
We do not reach this meeting place by strife
I ‘ve tried to get it right this final time
I never saw such Gold until that night
Once I cared for people who were old
Who wet themselves and felt the winter cold
I gave them baths and washed their backs and fronts
Helped them to get dressed and zip their pants
I made them pots of tea and gave them cake
I gave them dinner on a china plate
I listened to their stories of the past
An unknown world of war and terrors vast
And if they cried I’d wipe away their tears
Talk to them till sorrow disappeared
I’d do the washing up and clean the knives
The women missed their being someone’s wife
Now I am old and I have realised
I really had no feel for what it’s like.
October 28, 2019
Walking on the long white shore with you
The perfect sands, the sky and sea so blue
The rippling waves made patterns on our shoes
Oh,come back,sweetheart ,I can’t bear your loss
The church at Old Hunstanton has a pond
Ducks and geese were waiting for more food
The silence was enormous, like the sky
Interrupted by a wild bird’s cry
At Brancaster we nearly met our deaths
Cut off by a wave behind our backs
Young and green ,we knew no panic then
But now I feel it as I walk alone
Without my anchor I may float away
A little speck of dust in that wide bay
Monday morning by The quiet lake
We saw the geese descending as one shape
No goose is God they take their turn to lead
They shape the morning air with time and speed.
We stood in silence watching as they passed
The timing was ideal,not slow,not fast.
They do not have to calculate nor tense
All is done by vision and by sense.
Responding to the world with heart and flesh..
Moving like these geese can’t fail to bless.
Do not think we’re just a partial mind
Let the gods take over,be designed.
We were not important as we stood
Gazing on the lakes and distant wood.
Far away we heard the sound of trains
Saw the traffic moving through the lanes
I can see it now with love and fear
We took it in and it is always here
He said he had got dizzy and he thinks he saw the Light
It was mainly migraine but I recognise his plight
He didn’t want to drive me to the bitter end
So I called a cab and went there ;I met some lovely friends
He carved the joint on Sunday and then he left me here
I’ve finished all the brandy and I’m starting on the beer
I will lose my mind on purpose and write from my own heart
If I act like crazy, take me to the park
We had a cat from Tottenham,I preferred him to a man
I didn’t have to cook at all, he ate straight from a can
The cat we had much later, we thought he was a girl
The vet burst into laughter so I scratched him with my nails
Then we had a black cat, very small and round
She got bored and went to Mass. Jesus was her friend
Now the cat has cancer and I am feeling gloom
Put a first class stamp on me and send me to the moon
The vet is getting friendly but I have got no dog
I’ll have to get a virtual one but will it keep me snug?
I wish I were in Lancashire again
Pendle Hill the pike of Rivington
The mountains of North Wales , the Cheshire plain
I will never climb, my legs are gone,
Dear home, the cobbled Street my skipping rope.
The end wall of the house my mother’s face.
The tree she planted and her helpless hope
The love ,the feeling sad, the lost embrace..
I wish I were in junior school once
more
The powdered ink,, the brass the desks of oak
Children’s laughter to the sky can soar,
Skipping fast and how our arms would a àche
I wish I were a child and has no cares
I miss the. Freedom, bonfire night the War
My astral body floated to the wall
When I looked back I saw myself so pale
I was sitting at the table drinking tea
They told me to be strong but I had failed
I never heard of astral bodies tricks
I was down to earth no mystic bore.
But having cancer tore me into parts.
I felt I could not suffer anymore.
I sent an email to my sister dear
I told her how I felt and felt her near
I asked her could she write a poem sincere
Yet with humour to destroy my fear.
Time has passed I know I’m in my grave
Remember me,oh love me and be brave
Evoking the beauty, the stars so far away,
I like to watch geese at the end of day.
Patterns and poems disclose other worlds.
Feel the hand of a baby with the fingers all curled
See the trust and the smile when the mother is home,
To create entire worlds for the one she has borne.
For chaos and panic or not far away
Even in adults who don’t care to say.
The little hands touch me so deeply, so well;
How come the world is diving to hell?
How can we kill little wains by the score
Was it for this that I opened your door?
Was it for this that love electrified us,
And we were lost in each other, in the holy white dove.
Was it for war that we gave love our wombs
Making more soldiers and filling more tombs?
The bombs are a-loading they’re having parades.
It’s not North Korea, it’s Washington, dude.
Let the tanks roll on Corrie and the Bedouin tribes.
Let the allies laugh blindly as the Lord Jesus dies.
O take me, dear mother.Please take me away
I can’t see no point in saying my prayers.
The leaders’ religions are making God frown.
The desert is empty, the tents all dragged down.
The centuries of living so free , so mobile;
The holy land blessing as they pause for while.
The little black tents like wombs of the night
Are all gone to shredders as we sing, Silent Night.
October 28, 2019
Walking on the long white shore with you
The perfect sands, the sky and sea so blue
The rippling waves made patterns on our shoes
Oh,come back,sweetheart ,I can’t bear your loss
The church at Old Hunstanton has a pond
Ducks and geese were waiting for more food
The silence was enormous, like the sky
Interrupted by a wild bird’s cry
At Brancaster we nearly met our deaths
Cut off by a wave behind our backs
Young and green ,we knew no panic then
But now I feel it as I walk alone
Without my anchor I may float away
A little speck of dust in that wide bay
What do you say to a new teapot?
We’re all going to be in hot water soon
What do you say when you are thirsty?
Show me a photo of Warren Beatty.He makes my mouth water
Why don’t we drink sea water?
Fish pee into it.Whales drown in it
What do you say to a coffee mug?
Won’t you at least try this tea?
What do you say to a rabbit?
Have you no warren of your own to go to?
What do you feel for when you get a text message at 3 am
My husband
What kind of flour do you use?
It depends on how strong the bombs need to be
Why do you like hand writing?
We can’t afford writing paper
Which pens are the best?
The ones with ink inside.
O
Is it hard to write a poem?
No, it’s only 5 letters.Maybe A should be capital?
Are you autistic?
Is it so black and white?
Why do you like maths?
It stops me going mad
Did you work on differential equations
No they were too dirty for women to sit on
How did you find the University?
We had maps then.. much cheaper than phones
I mean how did you feel?
With maths you don’t need to feel
So what does make you feel?
Love, glue and hot water
What advice would you give to a person now?
Never give advice.
What do you think of the Corona virus?
It makes no difference what I think.It’s what we do that matt
If I’ve got a new infection
Can’t you give me more protection?
My immune system’s gone on away
And I have to write a Play
No Shakespeare am I as yet
No bookmaker’s taking bets
But if I write a sonnet new
What will all the critics do?
Meantime I get up at night
Stumble to the bathroom bright
I don’t know why my pee’s so green
Now I see it’s aquamarine
Green the sea at Hythe in Kent
Down the Saxon cliffs we went
The burning stubble , earth’s deep fires
The inner work that purifies
Steep,steep road in our old car
Smoke around us where we were
From the depths my soul cries out
The cry is answered , do we doubt?
As we reach the lowness deep
In our conscious mind we weep
When we touch the lowest place
We will feel, angelic grace
So the symbol of deep fires
Filled my mind as we drove by
Glory , for the Burning Bush
Burned again as stubble’s crushed
Destruction of all our intent
Is itself a sacrament
For it makes an empty space
Where new creation can take place
She saw her own self sitting in the coffee bar that day
She was on the other side and feeling far away.
Her eyes had left herr body,they were looking back at her
She felt hot and sweaty in that fine Italian chair
She thought she saw a vulture peering in the glass
Just another monster like you see with air and gas
She telephoned her sister and asked her what to do
It certainly more frightening simply feeling blue
We put it down to terror and to chemotherapy
It’s hard,so hard if we’re alone and we have not got a clue.
If you haven’t got a sister then I hope you’ve got a friend
We need a lot of loving or we will go around the bend
Anyone can feel unreal invisible or strange.
Reach out to the human race,this can arranged
When we are alone too much we think and fret our minds
But when we hava comforter,
Life feels much more kind
[Image by my sister]
Stan was standing on a small step ladder washing his windows yet again with a clean blue microfibre and elastane cloth and some windolene he had bought in Tesco’s
I don’t know why I bother,he whispered to Emile, who as usual was watching from the back of the sofa,which he was “milking” gently with his paws.
With all the rain,the outside of the windows was besmirched by leaves and bits of mud.A wiser man might have left it alone but Stan had O.C.D which made him very nervous if he failed to carry out certain tasks… so he made use of it in house chores and baking perfect cakes and buns..and in taking photos of frogs,birds and flowers.Neurosis can be useful sometimes.
All of a sudden he heard clattering footsteps…
Up the garden path walked two women dressed in the latest style of 3/4 length silk cargo trousers with matching blouses, all in a subtle shade of violet.Except for their faces,of course,which were both a light shade of beige and they had Revlon peach blusher on their cheeks with Chanel scarlet lipstick…on their lips.They also wore dark blue nail varnish from Rimmel
“Good morning,Stan!” called one of them.”We are Annie’s ‘s cousins from Pittsburgh.She told us to call on you today.”
“Well,I never knew wearing expensive makeup ran in the genes… can there be any other explanation?”Stan asked stupidly.
“Annie told us we must wear it all the time in the UK.” she responded,”even in bed.”
“You seem a bit fast,” he answered,
“I’m not sure I want to go to bed and as you seem like identical twins,which of you should I bed?”
They burst out laughing….oh,what a strange noise that seemed to this sweet old man
“I was just saying what she told us,not meaning that you need to go to bed with us.In fact, we sleep together at night.”
“As children that would be normal,but don’t you think you should separate now?People might think you are gay!”
“We never worry about stuff like that… and by the way,this is Ruby and I am Rosie.”
“I’ll put on the kettle and make you some coffee,” the dear and anxious man said in a kind tone of voice,before he went into the kitchen and swallowed a handful of red and green striped valium tablets.
“I wish the psychiatrist would give me some therapy.I don’t like taking valium but I seem to be having visions again… and I don’t want to get worse..I never heard Annie mention cousins in the USA. I wonder if CBT would help me?” he said to Emile.
“I see visions all the time,” the cat replied in a matter of fact and calm way.
“Do they not make you feel anxious?”Stan called.
“No,I just watch them drift by,” purred Emile.”I enjoy them.”
“I wish these two women would drift off.”responded the weary yet charming Stan.
Ruby and Rosie came inside and admired the kitchen where colanders in many colours hung from the wall into which someone had knocked a few dozen nails.
“”Why do you have sixteen colanders?”asked Rosie.
“Why do you think everything has a reason?”Stan replied.
“I can see you studied philosophy,” Ruby cried disconsolately as she loved an argument
“No,I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily.
“Wow,is it not boring?” they murmured softly like two doves in spring time
“No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things,”
Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over. unconscious.
.Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty key pad and texted 999.
“Why are you texting?”asked Ruby.
“Well,it difficult to mioaw down a phone and now I have this Blackberry it’s so easy…. why even a mouse could do it.”
“Do you know many mice,Emile?” enquired Ruby wistfully as she felt very lonely at times
Rosie slowly made some instant coffee, walking around poor Stan ,unconscious on the floor…and she and her twin sat down on some white Swedish chairs at the old oak table and drank it,gazing shyly at the huge weigelia blooming outside in the shed.
The front door opened and in ran Dave,the bisexual paramedic.
“Is it you,Emile.Have you lost your hankie again.Are you sad?” he moaned nervously.
“No,it’s Stan… but at least he’s not broken the chair”
Stan came too and looked up. at Dave.
“Oh, lovely,I feel much better for that nap” he said brightly as he was such a positive person..
“Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?” said Ruby querulously.”I like your mean expression,my dear man.”
“Now,look here said Stan,”I’m too old for any monkey business. Besides,I don’t know if you are real.”
“We just wondered why you slept on the floor.”
“A man has to do what a man has to do,” came the mystifying response.
“Now that Dave is here,he can take one of you and I’ll take the other.”
“Where will you take us”the twins asked delightedly.
“Do you fancy the cinema… they are showing Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday”
“Don’t tell me he’s still on his summer holiday!” riposted Ruby
“Let’s go in the ambulance.I’ll lie on the stretcher” offered Rosie generously..
“I’ll lie by you,”said Dave.” and Emile can drive.Stan and Ruby can lie on the floor.”
Sometimes life seems so simple,it’s rather like a dream controlled..
Controlled by what,asked Emile,clutching his Blackberry.
But answer came there none…
And that was very odd because.. they’d vanished every one…
To read more,why not take out a subscription?At just £100 a day,it’s value for money…as money no longer has any value!
I’d be interested to know the experiences of other people because since I’ve been in hospital I’ve been on a high dose and the effect is basically I have had very little sleep.
I mean like none or one or two hours
I also been troubled for the first time in my life by thoughts about suicide
Some other medication I’m on can have suicide as a side effect…..
And do you get help … Surprisingly I have not got any help. ISO surprisingly because a lot of people are put on steroids inhydrases when suffering from things like rheumatoid arthritis flare-ups….
Knowledge about the effect must exist but why don’t the doctors or nurses in the hospital know ?
Trouble sleeping while the hospital is not unusual which have sleep to this diminished degree is torture.
All sorts of insomnia seem to be ignored or even laughed at. In my view it could cause trauma if you’re in the hospital for more than two or three days and you’re being given drugs with these side effects.
In addition it can cause type 2 diabetes osteoporisis… How many other problems ?
Are we afraid of being labeled mental ill if we complain?
My eyes were on the ceiling staring down at me
They never told me this is so,oh chemotherapy.
I stared at them, they stared at me,whatever could I do?
I could not say a single word,. I had not got a clue.
So I WhatsApped my sister,she was not surprised.
When it all comes down to it, we’re glad that you’re alive
With one eye on the ceiling and one eye on the floor
How am I expected to walk right through the door?
They tell me once they tell me twice they tell me 50 times
When you write some poetry please don’t use no rhymes.
Then we had a spelling test and I failed all the words
But I was good as algebra and calculating surds
The whole thing is confusing when the eyes come out the head
You better put them straight back in, remember what Dad said
And if you need some spectacles then you must have a face
I wrote on the ceiling, you’d better watch this space
I told a lie I told some more then I told 25
You must believe me when I say I’m the smartest poet alive.
I know my 10 times tables I know the spelling best
I hope that when I pass by you, that I will pass the test
Once I cared for people who were old
Who wet themselves and felt the winter cold
I gave them baths and washed their backs and fronts
Helped them to get dressed and zip their pants
I made them pots of tea and gave them cake
I gave them dinner on a china plate
I listened to their stories of the past
An unknown world of war and terrors vast
And if they cried I’d wipe away their tears
Talk to them till sorrow disappeared
I’d do the washing up and clean the knives
The women missed their being someone’s wife
Now I am old and I have realised
I really had no feel for what it’s like.
Let me paint my house with color soft.
Still as snowflakes lying in a drift
Let me paint my house in colours mute
That lovers die I cannot now dispute.
As stark as ghosts are in an empty lift.
The end of life is startling it is swift.
Death came here and touched his unkissed lips
I am lonely are the lights go out.
I am frightened I won’t know the route
Now my heart is bleeding it is ripped
Lie beside me lover in the moss
Paint my face with colours still and soft
I see you in the mist and I am lost.
What we pay is more than any cost.
Great Bardfield and Dunmow by meadows of blue
Linseed and poppies delight
Narrow lanes curving are leading us to
The Essex of Constable ‘s sight
At Manningtree swans jostle near the stone edge
I recall we have seen them in flight
Like a god might descend to fulfill an old pledge;
A humbling and marvellous sight.
In Dedham, all’s still and wisteria hangs
From a house with the door painted white.
The church was quite empty and no bell was rung
But a prayer could ascend to its height.
After the quiet of the village out here
The A12 was revealed as a blight
We crossed it then turned down a lane that was near
We drove home in the cool of the night.
Windmills not turning and churches not used
Yet a beauty to charm and delight
No mills as in Yorkshire,no hills to denude.
Long Melford and Eleigh ,oh wait!
His absence left an empty open cut
Where was my blood that should have made a crust?
The weeping wound must heal from bottom up
The healing force is life and others’ love
Those who touch us gently without lust
His absence still an empty open cut
Slowly cells harmonious in this rut
Do their work and live as all things must
The weeping wound can heal from bottom up
Meanwhile my immunity has guts
Keeping off bacteria and dust
In his absence. now a hollow slit
Tears fly horizontal,eyes are shut
Time goes slow and heavy weights oppress
The weeping wound shall heal if I have grit
Bring me wild flowers from the Clevelands plucked
Give me nectar where the wild bees suck
His presence was a comfort,laughter-lit
The wound heals, oh, the love will never stop
I wrote this after I had an operation on my arm.After the stitches were removed I went to bed.When I awoke there was a big open slit in my arm.It did heal after several weeks
Y
My sister painted this picture a few months ago.
Oh,melancholy you are always near.
http://www.brainpickings.org/2014/11/28/against-happiness-melancholy-wilson/
“The largest part of what we call ‘personality’ is determined by how we’ve opted to defend ourselves against anxiety and sadness.”
