Dr Adams was a very kind man

He never fried sprats while they were soaked in jam

He apologised to the loaf when he cut the bread

And he wept many tears when his ants were found dead..

He was enamoured of spiders because he liked their webs

And even let them build one between his middle ribs.

He loved his wife and allowed her to be free

So she met a jolly sailor and they went out to sea.

Suddenly he realised, altruism’s bad

Unless it’s given to those who really are quite sad.

So he made a resolution to be a bit more stern

And gave up putting dinner out for the dear earthworms.

He met a kind fair lady and he began to hope

She would marry him and raise some antelopes.

He said she must be free but not quite totally;

Loving other men was not permitted, don’t you see?

Some folk can live with a marriage and affairs

Some men even keep many concubines and soares

But he and his new lady decided to be chaste
f
As loving any other folk was a sorry waste..

They had many off spring of whom I am one

I look like the pussy cat when all is said and done..

And I like being groomed and sitting on folks’ knees

Think whate’er you like but it’s fun running up trees.

My father was black and my mother is white

So I am rather grey ,except in a good light.

I have many patches in different shades of grey

I only wish my whiskers didn’t look like hay.

I am hoping to marry when the corn and barley’s ripe

Oh,what fun we’ll have in the middle of the night.

I found my first phone in the drawer by chance
C 1 -01, a Nokia, coloured pink
Memories of my flower photographs

We look but we don’t see,oh,happenstance
Now I shall pour out the tea and drink
I found my first phone in the drawer by chance

I saw cats and dogs but no giraffes
Now I might just sit to muse and think
Of memories and my flower photographs

We walked around those gardens holding hands
Saw the iris and the rose.oh God be thanked
I found my first phone in the drawer by chance

You preferred the sea shore.edge of sands
The waves ran on our feet, the fishes winked
Oh memories ,oh all our photographs

Like the fish, you also sent a wink
Just before you died, a smile , cheeks pink
I thought you looked much better,but no chance
Blessed memories of our lives in photographs

Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son.
He lived up in the hills
When he went to tend his sheep
He saw the cotton mills.
The rivers ran with water pure
And so provided power
Yet over these dark ruined towns
The heathered hills did tower.
Mary was a local girl
Se walked out on the moors
She wore a dress of silky cloth
Printed with small flowers.
John Joe saw Mary
When he was dipping sheep
She peered over a dry stone wall
And saw the new lambs leap.
Her hair was long.Her hair was gold
Her eyes were sapphire blue.
In John Joe’s eyes she was so fair
What was a man to do?
He watched her walking all alone
Was she sad or sick?
He showed her how his dog behaved
And showed her shepherds’ tricks.
So one day,he held her hand
As they walked to the Pike.
They stood up there and gazed all round
So John thought he would strike.
He bent down on his right knee
And spoke to Mary then.
I’ve loved you Mary since we met
I hoped we’d meet again
Mary smiled with her blue eyes;
Her lips were pink and bright.
I love you too and love the hills
And. love the summer light.
The next year they were married
Mary wore white lace.
She looked so happy then
To know she’d her own place.
The church bells rang,the people sang
John and Mary wed!
And naturally, when evening came,
At last, they went to bed.
When Mary lay in John Joe’s arms
She knew this was her home.
And so for many, many years
About the hills they roamed.
They cared for sheep and hens and goats
They cared for children three.
They never had a falling out…
But talked beneath a tree.
From youth to age the years went by
But John still loved his bride.
And Mary too was happy
With John Joe by her side.
Their faces,lined, were full of cheer
Their hair as white as snow
And everywhere that JJ went
Mary too did go.
Until the day came for his death
He lay down in the grass
Mary ran and held him close
And thus sweet John did pass.
The muffled bells rang from the tower
John Joe was carried in.
The parson prayed and hymns were sung.
The sheep dog made a din.,
In the dark earth John was laid
And Mary wept and cried.
what will I do now,my sweet John ,
without you by my side?
So Mary grieved and wept and sighed
And thus she spent two years…
The loss was great and bent her back
with the weight of care.
For when we open up our hearts
We feel both joy and woe.
This is the pattern of our love,
Which like the river flows

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.

Mary wore her new garnet red winter coat to go to the dentist and doctor who were in the same building.Unfortunately, it was shorter than her wool skirt, which had a quite few moth holes in it
First, she had to see the doctor.
Hello dear, how are you getting on without your husband? Can’t you afford a new skirt?
He calls now and then.He told me he has bought me a house in Ealing.
Did he give you the address?
No, but if I am living in Ealing I shall have to change doctors.
You can change here if you want to.
But I like and respect you, doctor
Thank you so much.Very few people ever praise me.And unlike you, many people come here in dirty old clothes.
I just got this new coat.I may not have needed it, but ,to me, it is a symbol of wishing to return to life again.
That’s a good one.I’d better not tell my wife!
Is she quite extravagant?
Not really.I suppose there is no absolute level of spending which defines extravagance.What is normal for Princess Kate would not be for my wife.It is I suppose a way of dressing so you look ok for the life you lead and does not get you into debt.
Surely you like your wife to look good?
As long as she feels good, I don’t mind.
Anyway, why did you wish to see me?
Well, you don’t come very much so I wanted to see how you were getting on
I had a panic attack in the waiting room just now.I got vertigo
Are you frightened of me, my dear?
No,I really love you, doctor.
Shush, that is not allowed
I just meant in a Christian sense although you are a Hindu.But when it comes down to it all religions are about compassion and love if we look carefully.
That is hard to believe nowadays.
I know.I suppose it’s an ideal to aim for.
All I can do is do my job well and look after my family and my patients.
Find God in the little things.See how small an acorn is and wonder.If I swallowed one would an oak tree grow inside me?
No.it would have to grow by the sewer
Imagine under the ground may be thousands of oak tree growing
Only if silly idiots swallow acorns!
I’m sorry.I have this vivid imagination.Can I have it removed and put a plastic one in?
Not yet but no doubt it will happen.Go outside and walk around a lot
Why?
Because I have decided you are ok and we’ve talked enough.
Thank you so much, doctor.
And so say all of us
Then Mary picked up her red coat which the doctor had not seen and she went into the dentist waiting room.The kind receptionist got her some water as Mary did not understand the machine.Uncountable infinity, yes.Water machines, no.
This dentist was a most beautiful young woman darting about like a coloured fish in the deep ocean.
The filling is still here!The tooth broke.I shall repair it for you.
Thank you, Mary told her.It is almost a pleasure to come here.
Almost? the dentist replied.
It’s a day out for me, Mary told her.I don’t meet intelligent young women like you so much.
Oh, my.I forgot to feed Emile.Hi, can you send a cab, please? I must go home or my cat will never forgive me.
A handsome young man appeared with a silver car.It almost seemed like a dream.How would Mary know?
He was a Muslim and his wife a Christian.
And both are good to us.

Even love is subject to finance.

Children need their food, theit little bed

When we’re cold and hungry we can’t dance

Hoping for true love by happenstance?

Children may be born but are they bred?;

Even love is subject to finance

Do we need the lightness of romance?

Be like little children,that man said

When we’re cold and hungry, there’s no chance

But money by itself lacks elegance.

Tell us more about what some man said

Children’s hands reach out,as if entranced.

Be a slave to love but not finance.

The heart is wise, but reason writhes,is dead

I follow links but somehow lose the thread

Love itself has died on bloody sands

Why should the wounded fearful try to dance?

I knew myself in his face when he lived

But now I have no mirror,I’m alone.

I learned myself reflected in his love.

An actual mirror seems like a dull stone

I was alive when mirrored his eyes

For those who hate us do not give us life.

What’s the answer when the loved one dies?

Without a husband there can be no wife.

All alone my blood seems not to flow.

The wellspring of my heart is arid,dry.

My hands curl up protective on my heart

I have no tears and so I cannot cry.

Yet I bleed inside from every part.

So where is my reflection, where my grace?

I cannot live without his tender face

Mother, it is great to be up North
Can we take a trip to see High Force?
I don’t think we can manage that,I said
Why ever not,I need to leave my bed
Well,I can’t drive for I can’t see so well
He looked at me with pity, it was hell
Shall we take a cab, he questioned me
I don’t think they can get there before tea
We can take a flask and your fruit cake
I knew his mother well, and could she bake!
I did not like to say it is too far
Two hundred miles or more from where we were
He asked again about my honeymoon
Did you find it over all too soon?
I felt a blush spread over my fair skin
He was my husband, I spent it with him
But yet I could not take away his joy
He loved his mother much when a small boy.
Judging by the smile on his dear face
Freud was right, he wished to me embrace.
Is it wrong to let a man mistake
His wife for his late mother, that is fake.
But since he was so sick and suffered long
I had to keep him going with her songs
She sung in her church choir the hymns of praise
To overcome that strange weekend malaise
So valiant as ever in my work
I sang O Praise the Lord as in the Kirk
I sang Oh, little town of Bethlehem
Of course there was no wall there way back when
He still did read the paper every day
And in the night when sleepless he would pray.
I would have lifted rocks and cut through steel
If I could have made his heart valves heal
Yet still our masquerade was to him real
He held my hand and smiled with great appeal.
Then he said he’d like to go to bed
With his own mother, what could I have said?
I made some tea and he smiled even more
I guess that’s why he lived to 94.

Stoical grieving won’t work

Yet if we evade it, disease may invade us.

Feeling sorrows can never be shirked.

That lump in the throat we can’t swallow

The stomach ache there with no cause

We suffer bodily,and indeed horribly

Stoicism does have its flaws.

Let loose the tears of this sorrow

Wrapppd in the arms of a friend.

For if we don’t do it,later we’ll rue it,

With physical pains without end.

Soldiers are told to be stoic;

But supposing they all refused?

Would war end tomorrow, at the sight of such sorrow?

Ah,humans,we’re surely confused.

We may be from different races

We may be brown,gold or green

But our hearts form a layer,to hold out our care.

We’re all one and always have been.

Throw away stoic behaviour

Throw out melancholia too.

Feel pain when we need to and then it won’t lead to

Dead soldiers and fighting anew.

Posted on November 11, 2017
The summer heat made cobblestones like stoves
The Coronation happened, I know now
We played with melted tar, industrial bairns.

My mother’s hands were black and much beloved
The coal and coke had tattooed her, we sa
The summer heat made cobbles hot as stoves.

In the road, we played our ancient games
The older children passed the knowledge down
We played with melted tar, industrial wains.

The bully boys were cruel , did not heed love
A little boy had tried to be a clown
In summer heat, they beat him on the stones.

We were silent as they flaunted power again;
But in our hearts, we knew we’d let him down
We threw warn melted tar, industrial wains

And in our phantasy, he was alone.
No-one knew who threw the vicious stone
The summer heat made cobbles feel like flames
We played with melted tar, Christ died again

Come back, live again, he said to me
Do not struggle with the darkness anymore
One more step gives hatred victory

We are each connected to that tree
The sunlit top, the roots hid in earth’s floor
Come back, start again, he asked of me

While we live, we’ll live with dignity
Not scrabbling for the gold in blood and gore
One more thought might give hate victory

The kindness of the golden light was clear
And burned an image in my mind’s deep core
Come back, live your life, he said gently

Do not wonder now why you are here
We’re here to live and living shall restore
What our suffering self has found so dear

I had never seen the Light before
Only Christ the tyger with his roar
Come back, live through fear, he asked of me

Turn from darkness find love’s victory

Copyright Katherine

kakistocracy (n.) Look up kakistocracy at Dictionary.com1829, “government by the worst element of a society,” coined on analogy of its opposite, aristocracy, from Greek kakistos “worst,” superlative of kakos “bad” (which perhaps is related to the general IE word for “defecate;” see caco-) + -cracy.

From time and place and season, I am lost,
Disorientated ,missing tracks well worn.
Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost,
Nor label me with epithets of scorn.
For usual paths lead to the usual place.
The safest way to live and perhaps to die,
But wandering through the woods I find new space
and in wild grasses with the fox I lie.
Through distant trees, I see a way to go
As narrow as a slit in pale limestone.
I pass in silence as if in deep,deep snow.
My courage rises even as I groan.
Remember when we’re lost ,we may then find
Another way,a place,another mind.

can see there is plenty of material here for me to write my next book:

Deceptive appearances and the fascination of apparent dullness.

Oh, that sounds very unusual.

Well, I’ve never believed in true dullness.There is always a story.

See, I’ve just met you a man of 98 yet you have a wife, a mistress and a crazy cat.. and I’ve only been here for one day.Imagine 

what else I may discover here.

They heard a siren.

Oh, no!We’ve not even rung 999 and here is the ambulance….

Mary will be so angry.You see Dave is bisexual

My goodness, are you having an affair with him.

No way, shouted Stan.My life is tough enough already.He can be bisexual or even trisexual but I’m not interested.

What does trisexual mean, enquired Emile.

I have no idea but I thought it sounded good, admitted Stan.

Peter stood up.

I think I’d better go home and start to see my patients.

Now Emile, put your nerve somewhere safe.We don’t want you to lose it again.

Thank you, darling cried Emile.I think I’ve formed an erotic transference with you already.

Peter rushed out.

Is it me or is it them?he wondered.

I thought it would be quiet here on the edge of Knittingham but I think now wherever you are there will always be something unexpected happening.But I hope Emile will not begin to follow me around.I shall have to buy a lady cat and then Emile might fall in love with her instead.So off Peter went whistling a Bach cello suite and wondering how to cope with life in a suburb.. clearly it was not as dull as he had imagined.

ByShare this:

https://www.england.nhs.uk/blog/amit-arora/

Now schools open, lockdown comes again
Jesus has one shepherd,one wise man
Just one beast to keep the family warm
And one black sheep to save them all from harm

Nero has one wife whom he will kill
So he may have concubines at will
The brother gone, which child will he proclaim
After he’s fired all Rome up i on great flames?

Oh, Jesus on his Cross must die alone
Except for Mary’s spirit and her bones
One Roman soldier, Pilate with his lie
The men who died with God, all crucified

Filled with joy, the demons prance around
In their septic darkness underground

None so blind as those who will not see

The suffering of the old is hidden from view

How cruel the world indifferent yet to me

My face is frozen killing any clue.

The colours of the heart are mainly blue.

Sister, sister do you not agree.?

The suffering and the dying not on cue

From the desert of the aged flee.

I wonder whether God asks who are you?

God has got dementia yet is free

The suffering of the old enrages few

A play on words amusing I shall sue

Comments

I love to go awandering around a Nursing Home

and as I go I love to sing to drown out people’s groans.

I hate to take my sleeping pills, 3 hours before the time.

Is giving patients sedatives a sin or just a crime?

I love to see Dementia,

She likes to scream and yell. She. longs to go as in the air, she’s neither ill nor well.

‘It is boring in a nursing home. there’s nothing much to do.

I think we’ll roll down in the snow, to catch a cold or. flu.

I love to go a wandering, around a little town

Now it’s just these corridors, it surely gets one down.

I love to see the old folk cry. I didn’t know they could.

I thought when we were 82 our brains would turn to wood.

I dreamed of Leonard Cohen, he was looking rather blue.

He thinks he’s going to heaven but if it’s hell there’s naught to do

He wrote a lot of melodies when in the tower of song.

I wonder when the Lord comes back, will Leonard’s be proved wrong?

We humans love to wander from our first Eden home

We got as far as Finland, South Africa and Rome.

But yeah we’re always fighting we have a cruel streak

We like to argue scream and yell, and then the weapons shriek.

I left a pan of curry on the stove
Hot as ash combined with burning coal
Yet when I went back in a cat stood there
Eating this strong curry with no care.

It must have had thick skin inside its mouth
Before I looked ,it ran out of the house
To think it gobbled up our supper so
Leaving me with nothing but a glow

So then I made a chilli beef and beans
My heart ached as I listened to puss scream
Can cats learn that pans are out of bounds?
I’d hate to hear again its anguished sounds

Be sure to close the kitchen door or else
You too will suffer torment from cats’ yells

I’m in deep now,never been this deep before
The world’s hollow like a shell and I’m out its door.
In so deep, the ocean has its own startled floor.
I’m down,down.down.never been so dark , so more
I can’t rightly tell how I got where I am
I think I had an accident,fell over, then I swam.
Sometimes it’s a loss, be times it’s a man.
I guess I only do it ‘cos I know some folk can.
I don’t know if the joy is worth the pain
Would I choose to relive if, I was born again?
The deep joy is the amazing gain.
But the sorrow is damn sad, let’s admit it plain.
I’m in deep and it’s over my head
What was I thinking of,when I fell out of that bed?
I look up and the sea’s so turquoise like that mist is red
When we get good and mad and wish some loon was dead.
At first, it was all just black,black pain
But from the bottom of the well, I looked up with awed love again.
That’s when I recalled,feelings are sound and sane
Joy is much greater when we’re in the deep,deep zone.
I dunno if I’m ever comin’ out.
We can’t control it,ain’t that what life’s all about?
I’ll never love with innocence again,nor not feel doubt.
But I’m no teapot and the devil ain’t got my spout.
I’m swimming and the ocean’s so mysteriously bright
Down here ,we don’t have no day nor no night
Fish nudge me with big grins and teeth white.
Sea-flowers fondle me and whisper,turn off that light!

When true love’s gone and doom hangs over head
When life runs  like a river to the sea
Then shall I take new lovers to my bed
And with their carnal touch consoled be?

When my love lies and  breaks my tender heart.
When life  is grey and rocks bestrew my path.
Then, shall I my life of evil start,
And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?

When true love lies and wrecks all loyalty.
When puzzlement makes all my world seem mad.
Then I shall upend causality
And let myself do deeds which make me glad.

For I have love’s  own child inside my soul
And I shall tend her till at last she’s whole

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I envy shy black people because they can blush secretly

And I envy Chinese people because they don’t go yellow when they feel sick

I envy Jewish people because they enjoy arguments.Yes that is too general a statement but don’t let’s argue about it. Unless you are Jesus Christ. Did Jesus

argue? Get the Bibles out.

I envy philosophers because they know what distinguishes an argument from a quarrel

I don’t want to be a Catholic because they believe in hell. Can you still go to hell even if you don’t believe in it

Why does nobody mention limbo anymore?

Why do I have to ask questions when other people know by intuition?

Why were red Indians called red Indians?

You are going to do something creative. So how do you get ready? You are hoping for some new ideas some connections.

Well suppose you are going to bake a cake the first thing that you do is what?

You have to clear a space on your work surface or table to put you your baking bowl and you have to make sure the oven is empty

The very first thing you must do is to wash up in case the cake tin all the bowls you need all there being soaked and there’s no room for anything else so you wash up up.and put these things away and now you have a space in which you can set about creating the cake of your dreams

Supposing do you want to paint a picture or write a poem.

Our mind is full of ideas,of people we’ve just seen or a unfulfilled desires thoughts about food clothing who knows jealousy envy love

Well you can’t create when your mind is full like that.

That is what Marion Milner discovered that if she said

I am nothing I have nothing I want nothing

This freed her from the buzzing cloud of flies inside my head. And then thoughts and ideas from the deeper parts of the mind can come into the consciousness.

She calls this the gesture of

Inner Poverty.

By giving up for a time all the things that occupy our thoughts we create some space for new ideas.

I can’t guarantee that they will be any good but there’s a good chance of it if we follow up a little ideas with some hard work.

I think it might be rather like the desireless that is part of Buddhism.

Saying I am nothing is not self derogatory. Nobody is nothing o and if you believe in God you will believe that everybody has a soul equal two other people’s in the eyes and God regardless of your wealth or status. It’s it’s moving away from constant occupation with egocentric concerns which can impede perception.

Because these concerns are a barrier to our vision.

This is just one way of looking at perception and creativity

?

https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20200827-how-self-control-can-actually-unleash-your-dark-side

https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/handy-hints-humans/201609/why-its-good-feel-sad

I burned eight pans while I daydreamed in grief
I meant to cook my dinner while I wrote
My attention was too sparse,a narrow brief
I burned eight pans while I swam in deep grief
This war on objects makes my mind a thief
Where once love lived, I see his empty coat.
I burned eight pans while knocked about by grief
I tried to cook my supper, I saw smoke

Oh,mother dear wherever have you been
To leave a cat all day is very mean
Emile,I need my freedom now and then
I can’t love Dave but I would like a man
I must go out to buy a handsome coat
Cognac is the colour I love most
Emile cried, whatever do you think
I saw some frogs a-courting in the sink
I was on the draining rack up there
They asked me to avert my amber stare

Are frogs faithful, don’t they just leave spawn?
They are cold towards tadpoles unborn
We saw them by Moss Bank in shallow pools
Mary wonders if all frogs are cruel

Stan came with his angels right behind
They are tired of heaven, they’ve resigned
Here’s a pin upon which they can dance
Mary was delighted and entranced

Do you need a dinner now you’ve died?
I wouldn’t mind a steak, the old man sighed
Some buttered new potatoes and a fool
Rhubarb or vanilla would be cool

I have done no shopping, Mary cried
I have no money for the food you like
Shall I get a pizza, fish and chips
That will put some colour in your lips

I am only joking, Stanley said
I shall merely visit you in bed
Emile wept with joy to see his Dad
What a spirit, is he going mad?

In came Annie in her long best coat
Her eyes were black and scratched was her throat
I fell into the Croal when eating chips
See the bruises on my pouting lips

Never walk on water,Mary screeched
Even when you cross that Southport Beach
Stay away from danger,I’ll ring Dave
He will dress your bruises with his gauze

Annie did not tell them the real truth
She had fallen off the sloping roof

Stan was a very naughty man because he winked at his dear wife before dying and she had no chance to respond.
That is so typical of Stan, she said to Annie, her best friend.
Well, at least he went peacefully.Annie replied in a kindly tone
And to think I had just bought him 6 new pairs of pyjamas.
You can’t blame him for that.You always buy too much, Annie murmured politely
Well, I suppose I like to be prepared, Mary muttered.I felt so helpless as he went thinner and thinner.
What are you going to do with them all, Annie whispered.
There’s only one solution.I’ll have to find a man to fit the pyjamas and marry him
That’s a strange way of choosing a new husband, Annie said in a shocked voice.
In the end however rational we try to be, life is down to luck.
Yes, didn’t Churchill say, chance favours the prepared mind?
It wasn’t Churchill, it was Blaise Pascal.Mary told her in of voice rich with wisdom
Well, why not marry him? He sounds intriguing
He’s dead, Mary responded succinctly
Oh, what a pity.He sounded just right for you, Annie said tearfully.Are we going to the funeral?
I am afraid he died before we were born, Mary said in an anguished tone.
Well, he’s no use.Anyone else you fancy?How about Dante? Annie screamed
Which Dante do you mean?I thought he was Italian, Mary informed
her.
It’s not far by plane, though Brexit might be a problem, Annie said wisely.
Let’s be realistic.No dead, great genius will be revived by the Lord to marry me.Mary said as if she were lecturing to a big class on differential geometry and its use in economics.No wonder we had the Depression
That might be blasphemy, Annie informed her.After all, if God is omnipotent he can do anything at all.
To me, he sometimes seems incompetent, said Mary wildly.And of all the lonely people in the world, why should he aid me in my grief? Anway male geniuses are very demanding.I think a cook or chef might be more practical.
Oh, look, we’ve missed Mass again.
We’ve not been for 40 years and just when we decided to go we started talking about these powerful creatures and a husband for you
Never mind, why don’t we wait till Xmas?
And so say all of us.