I wish I were on Hutton Roof again
The limestone and the little open flowers
The sea at Arnside like a distant gem
The spaciousness, like days with far more hours

I wish I were as agile now as then
I’d climb the mountains, hills,the little lanes

Windermere below still winding on
The handsome Lake the old man, Coniston

I wish I were in Dent, the curious shapes
The hills and their deep mystery engross
The height, the little river, the mistakes
The lost loved man alive, to hold me closeI

I yearn to be on Hutton Roof today
The holy smell of grass, the feel of air

One of the great unresolved psychological enigmas of the modern western world is the question of what or who has persuaded us to accept as virtually axiomatic a self-view and a world-view that demand we reject out of hand the wisdom and vision of our major philosophers and poets in order to imprison our thought and our very selves in the materialist, mechanical and dogmatic torture-chamber devised by purely quantitative and third-rate scientific minds.
Philip Sherrard

Mary was sitting looking at the execution of Mary Queen of Scots on TV while also mending some moth holes in her skirt.The only thread she got into the eye of the easy thread needle was blue but nobody was going to examine her with a microscope, she told herself gently
She also was thinking of her winter coat.Was raspberry really a good choice? Would dark grey not be more useful?After all she often sat down on garden walls while taking photos or even on old wooden benches.What she needed was a folding cushion or a small thick towel.No wonder women have such big handbags.
Annie her neighbour came in the back door with a bag of broken biscuits.
Look at these!We used to get them in the market years ago.So for old times sake I have hit these with a hammer!
What sort of hammer,Mary asked.
Why, are there different kinds?
Yes,but I expect yours is just the usual medium size.
Actually it was Ben’s.When he ran away he left it behind.
I suppose it was too heavy to fit into his suitcase.Where do he run to?
I don’t know,said Annie but as his sister in law went with him they might have gone to Australia.
Do men in Australia often love their sisters in law? Mary pondered
Who knows? The point is nobody would recognise them.Although if I went on Saga holiday I might!More people travel now.My friend Jim went to Borneo last yearm said Annie in a tone of wonder
So if we became lesbian lovers we could not hide in Borneo!Where could one hide now with all this travel?
Disguise might be best,Annie whispered.You could dress as a man!
You must be joking ,at my size.
Well, there are plenty of fat men!
But would they have a shape like mine?
So the two friends while away Saturday afternoon, both now darning Mary’s other clothes.
Why don’t you just buy new clothes,Annie murmured kindly.
I can’t afford this quality.I shall have to keep combing Emile until I get enough fur to make into a thread.Then I can knit a scarf!
How ridiculous,You’d need a herd of cats to get enough,Annie informed her with pity.
What a lovely idea,Mary cried,But Emile might be jealous.Or he might enjoy meeting a lady cat… or two.
I don’t think you could have more than six cats here and with food and bills it would be cheaper to buy wool
Still,a ball of wool is not so good to sleep by as a cat,Mary pondered slowly.And it has no loving eyes to look at when one comes in from the shops.
I suppose just holding wool in the hand might be very soothing,Annie retorted logically.
Otherwise we could join Soulmates she continued fluently.
Would men be attracted to a lady with darned moth holes in her clothing? Mary enquired humorously
Well, it would show you were economical and thrifty,Annie cried sensitively
Surely that is not the main reason men choose a woman partner, said Mary wonderingly.
I suppose they like a woman with a gentle sensitive nature.Annie screamed
Well.Denis Thatcher didn’t,Mary informed her delightedly
So true, but was she different once?
No, he wanted to be dominated.Mary decided.
I wonder if he liked being whipped,Annie thought having read 5o shades of whey
She could have used the Government Whips, Mary chortled.
Both the women burst out laughing so much that the sofa fell over and flung them onto the thick red and purple striped acrylic carpet
That sofa us unstable,Annie shouted.We could have died
Perhaps it’s us.Mary shrieked
Emile ran out into the kitchen and bit a piece out of the Xmas cake.
I can’t help it, he mewed.They are both getting madder by the day
And so say all of us
Emlle’s a jolly good yeller
So pray for all of us.

How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose
Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
For their intricate petals form a shield
Yet bees with 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

I spent my adult life in foolish toil
At least it paid the rent and saved me space
Seeing calculus, my brain has boiled

As for understanding, lose your cool
Infinitely smaller, numbers placed
I spent my adult life in foolish toil

Disappearing just as they beguile
Numbers irritate the mental space.
Games like calculus force heads to boil

Yet if we must learn al-gebra let’s smile
As neo-liberals lose the human race
I spend my life in Pascal’s counterfoils

One by one the tiny x’s file
Through my dreams to weave the demons’ lace
The holes of calculus were over-tiled.

When do we know we have found our place
Will it be the black holes of disgrace?
I spent my adult life in grey turmoil
Neither calculus nor boiling oil.

I’ve been reading for the last two days and article about a woman of 91 who died on a fiirst day in a care home.

A lot of the articles blame two workers who did not speak English properly so they said.

But if this home and people will dementia and other illnesses then it will be a nursing home and there has to be a nurse on the premises all the time.

The newspapers are blaming the care workers because when they rang 999 they could not explain what had happened properly but there should be a nurse fully qualified and someone from management so to me it seems like the home is to blame for leaving it up to the Carers to ring for the ambulance.

The poor woman has been there only one day and she died. Book to be perfectly frank with you I think her life would not have been very good in that place. I have heard residents saying that they want to die and one person with severe dementia asked me to kill her. When I tell the I couldn’t do that she said I was a coward.

Unless you know a place I will be very wary of putting a relative into one.

Triolet
The summer weighs us down with sullen heat
Even cats and dogs sit blank as stones
Gone are lovely flowers with fragrance sweet
Late summer weighs us down with bullying heat
The hot flagstones return my angry beat
As gaudy people sweat with ears to phones.
How summer weighs us down with sullen heat
Now all cats and dogs are turned to stone

Continue reading “Wildflowers” →

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 en-wrap 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

https://www.arthritis.org/health-wellness/healthy-living/managing-pain/understanding-pain/best-climate-for-arthritis

Moses was an Eruption I hear.So he had to be kept warm in a basket.
Then Foureyes daughter let him gloat down on the River Nile…till a bull rushed him
Then he turned into a shrew and found God.. or God found him
But God would not let him find Galilee so he found Emilee ,Loelee and Phoebilee linstead.
He had many children such as Matthew,Hark,Look and Gone.They were all men and had more children with no wives.They didn’t have any women so who did Cain and Abel marry?Eve?
Is this what Freud never realized… men used to marry their mothers and later their daughters who were also their sisters,Crikey,what a blunder
Blimey what is this Bible?Libel?
As we were taught in school Daniel lived with a lion and a lamb.I’m unsure if they had children…. it might explain a lot if they did.
And finally Solomon was very wise.It was easier then when there was no judge or jury to stop him cutting a baby in two… well, he was just pretending.
I say,the Shrews were very shrewd and clever.Like who told Adam and Eve what to do before Masters and Johnson wrote that book.. the Human Textual Despondency?
In any case Adam could not read.In fact they didn’t write either.And to think children here can write so young.Adam and Eve were a bit lacking but they have lots of family
Everybody on Earth… pity they are dead and can’t see us though God knows they’d be shocked if they saw our behaviour to our family here on earth

Some misunderstanding?
1.A man must wear a cat at all tim
es ,except in bed when he may wear pyjamas over his head if he wants to [unless his wife likes his face] I was told this by my neighbour who is now a widow.Why?
2.One must never eat pork hostages
3.Women must be immodest so that men can pick and choose
4.Men must prey at least 5 times a day except on the Sabbath .She always was bad at spellingHowever, one can pray mentally [but not while eating dinner]
6.A man must love his neighbour but is it the right hand one or the left hand one?It sounds like musical chairs.Do women love their neighbour? It’s transitive
7.A man must not convert his neighbours’ wife to a new political person
8 No-one may hero worship a golden oldie or their neighbour’s calf or heel
9 Women are both seen and heard whereas men make scenes. and gird their loins
10.If you worship a golden owl ,don’t tell anybody as the cat may be jealous.Not to mention the Divine
Advice:.If a burning bush appears,keep still and listen respectfully then run
And never kill your nanny’s goat unless she orders it

Down the slanting, new laid garden path

I saw the young wood pigeon in the bath.

We rarely went down there in recent years

The bird was not afraid, he stood and stared.

Then having splashed in joy, he flew away.

I miss my quiet garden and its peace.

My heart is overflowing with this grief

What’s the point of living, keeping safe?

When we shall no more feel love:s sweet embrace.

https://time.com/6323730/hamas-attack-left-response/

Gold stone from Cotswold quarries young men brought

And built into a way of life for those who bought

Their lives so cheaply,

And did not see

The children’s eyes,the ball,.the game ,the tree

Of life that grew in small backyards and gave all

To those who climbed into its arms.

Why should this not be you?

Oh,Eden,I see that you are nearer now

In lowly homes where love is free

Than in the temple, grove,and soft set brow

Of those who worship God in churches built of gold.

Now we must know that this is easy to behold

When sun is setting,and escapes the ashes

Thrown up and floating in the watches

Of the days of voter’e eyes cast up to skies

and,wondering fearful, what will come

when all the secret deals are done.

So take the gold of life and let it fall

Into your children’s growing souls

And let this Cotswold town and spires

Melt into sunset’s glowing orange fires.

Published by Katherine

My heart is crushed like petals on the road
When spring winds blow and cars speed by like shot
The weight of caring is too hard to hold
Yet such a pastime seems to be my lot.

When buds appear I dread the frost of sin
When leaves uncurl ,I bear my breathless dream
I was not always of this mind so grim
Neither did I ponder complex schemes.

Shall I descend to ploys and plots of doom;
Wreak revenge on those who trouble me?
No,I ‘ll not give home to conquering gloom
I’ll sit it out and find what good’s for me.

My heart is crushed but I shall live again
Far from the habitat of wolf-like man.

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2023/dec/01/singing-to-babies-is-vital-to-help-them-understand-language-say-scientists?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

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 moan 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 ,vindictiveness 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 hears
Scratched and bitten daily, struck by falling stars
Who can come to help us from our warring hearts?

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/nov/18/ishion-hutchinson-school-of-instructions-ts-eliot-prize-interview?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2010/jul/29/mental-health-diagnostic-manual?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

---

My room is warm and comforting and light
This feels like kindness , brings my skin delight
I remember being held in loving arms
And soothed by songs as sweet as any balms
Let the lamplight run across the eyes
Let them soften to a wider gaze
Let the hair be free from sprays too strong
Let the skin enclose us softly like a song
We can’t deny the skin is often pricked
Or beaten by a parent who’s too strict
More fragile than a leaf from any tree
This frail membrane is our boundary
Floating into sleep in reverie
I lose myself while God imagines me

Your eyes are sharp as razors boiled in wrath
It’s easy to provoke but less to soothe
My hair is protein, do not rip it off

You think you are above us yet we laugh
Your hair curls tightly. men don’t like it smooth
Your eyes are sharp as razors boiled in wrath

Though my hair is tangled I’ve no moths
I have no lice, nor eggs,so do not brood
My hair is protein, do not cut it off

You’ll catch nineteen germs if someone coughs
Stay in Lockdown, banish those who feud
Your eyes are sharp as needles boiled in wrath

,

Take your steely look and make it love
Our eyes can with such kindness be imbued
My hair is protein,I must be a Goth

Life is wasted when we start to feud
Or stick like needles in the rounded gtoove
Your eyes are sharp as hawks sent up in wrath
O tragic world,men hate more than they love

https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2013/11/what-is-a-poem/281835/

Extract:

There is at least one kind of utility that a poem can embody: ambiguity. Ambiguity is not what school or society wants to instill. You don’t want an ambiguous answer as to which side of the road you should drive on, or whether or not pilots should put down the flaps before take-off. That said, day-to-day living—unlike sentence-to-sentence reading—is filled with ambiguity: Does she love me enough to marry? Should I have sex with him one more time before I dump him?

But such observations still don’t tell us much about what a poem really is. Try crowd-sourcing for an answer. If you search Wikipedia for “poem,” it redirects to “poetry”: “a form of literary art which uses aesthetic and rhythmic qualities of language—such as phonoaesthetics, sound symbolism, etc.” Fine English-professor speak, but it belies the origins of the word. “Poem” comes from the Greek poíēma, meaning a “thing made,” and a poet is defined in ancient terms as “a maker of things.” So if a poem is a thing made, what kind of thing is it?

The four dimensional shapes in Dirac’s head

broke into four much simpler shapes instead.

How can we dream of 4 dimensions when

The head has only 3 in any man?

The complex brain imagines when it can

We could look inside its wider scan

Dreams bring more dimensions visions grand

then we turn to food like fish and chips

Mathematics tortures as I knit.

In the end it’s patterns that we need

The rhythm of Life a slower nature needs

Rhythmic poetry echoes our own rhythms

The way the heart beats and the flow of blood.

Music is biology at play

The joy of being alive is well and good

There is no no need for willpower and its strains

Does the River have to push itself?

Does the tide need training who could tell?

Imitating these is poetrys stealth.

Overwork is easy but it’s wrong.

Distracks us from the pain of life and death

Both can come together in a song

Let your mind be vacant till you find

The evidence that there is another mind

Mary was sitting in her coral and teal kitchen wondering if she needed some new clothes.The weather had been unusually warm and she had forgotten where she had
put her summer dresses.A “special place” is easily forgotten
A crash in the hall meant the post had come.Here was Lands End sale catalogue
Mary began to look through it though there not many summer clothes and shorts did not suit her
Then she found a lovely blue dress with a draped front
Annie, her neighbour, tapped on the door and came in, a very lovely sight in her orange striped shift dress with matching lipstick and shoes
Hey, Annie, what do you think of this blue dress?
Annie had lost her contact lenses so she peered at the description

Elegant 3/4 sleeve dress with
Exposed statement back zip

1The zip sounds weird,hard for a woman to so up,Annie said
Is it to attract men, she coninued?
Well, if a man undid it while I was at a dinner party I would be embarrassed,Mary cried
So would the man,said Annie, when he saw you were not wearing a camisole nor a bra
I suppose it’s a kind of flirting or teasing. Mary murmured softly.
She was ignorant of such things since studying Schrodinger’s equation and his dog.
But it’s not an invitation to bare me to the four winds
Well, this is the problem,Annie enthused.To some men it would be preciely that.Not to mention gay women
The most odd thing is that Lands End sell more sporty casual clothes
If it were made of towelling you could swim in the river and then put it on, Annie rambled like an old lady who drank too much brandy
I could put it on anyway but would you like a zip on your naked flesh, asked Mary
in her jocose yet feminine way?
No,I like soft fluffy things on my naked flesh
Well, please don’t mate with a rabbit,Mary ordered
I only want a merino wool or cashmere cardigan and I can’t mate with that.
Don’t you know I am 103?
No, you are 73, Mary said correctly.I think we should call 999 and see what Dave the
skilfull paramedic thinks about the dress
What a waste,mewed Emile who was hiding inside a large copper pan.With so many people ill it would be wrong.
Since when have you studied Ethics,Annie asked him
You don’t need to go to Magdalen College to know wasting NHS money is wrong
Well, he keeps us sane and that saves money, she retorted.
You can’t grumble, the vet is expensive and he doesn’t call to make us tea,
Nor does he drive to Barnard Castle to test his hearing aids.
So true
Soon Dave ran in wearing a new sundress made of gingham
That looks stunning,Annie told him
I made it myself, he said, smiling
Well,we would like some.Mary haa mislaid all her dresses.
I’ll bring some patterns round.Dave answered shyly
Maybe when Boris Johnson resigns
We can’t wait.Look at this dress Lands End are selling
It looks uncomfortable Dave repied.Why not wear a sheet with a leather belt to keep it secure?
Why not indeed?
You may get complaints from the neighbours
And so say all of

 

 

She was built like a brick shithouse

Ya, born with a silver spoon in her mouth

Her momma was like an old brown mouse

And her pa was just a slimy stuck up louse.

 

 

She was built like an old doghouse

On the top, sharp eyed vultures used to roost

Her brother has gone for a Dead Sea cruise

Her sister wants to let all hell break loose.

 

She was in for life with those smart  sharp spooks

A creepy horror in every nook

Her ma never learned her how to cook

She ain’t never even read a single book.

 

No aphrodisiac ain’t of much use

When the true Furies are on the loose.

Do what you can to cook thet goose

Ain’t so good to blow your own fuse.

 

No,those Furies are on the ball

They come looking for us one an’ all.

Keep  face hid and ego small…

What’s thet dark shadow on your wall?