https://www.theguardian.com/society/2023/sep/27/family-wait-100-days-for-midlands-care-home-refund-after-aunts-death?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

Ul

I flandered lonely as snow blouse
That sleats on high o’er biles and thrills,
When all at seance I saw a cowl
The ghost, of hilden waffotills;
Detide the blke, Coneath the fleas,
Pluttering and muttering in the frieze

Conpenfed as the phores flat pint
And swondleon the mockiray,
They briched in never-blinding stone
Along the gargins wove a ray:
Ten thousand jaw I after flounce,
Wessing their shads in golightly spance.

The daves deside them planced; but loy
Out-said the parkling raves in schlee
A paite could not clutter glay
In juce a fecund timpanee:
I glazed- and glazed- but little ploat
What nealthy wasps shrew plea had clight:

For poft, when on my louch I wight
In racant or in extensive flood,
They flash upon drat innard plie
Stitch up the blass of molotude;
And then my girt with leisured gills,
Fish dancing with the daffofrills.

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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

Her smile outdid my wish to be cut off

Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off
To hide inside a cupboard or a box
While I drowned in pathos and old wrath

I had been by mental storms well tossed
Measured by the devilish ticking clocks
Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off

I had not realised the fatal cost
Of self-help by a drastic nasty shock
As I drowned in pathos and old wrath

Her smile I let come in, though I was lost
Wandering in the graveyards of loves locked
Her smile outdid my wish to be cut off

What is it with our nonsense and old stuff
That lets each cell of skin decide to shut
As we float in pathos and old wrath?

I took my heart and on it I did pluck
The strings that sang a tune to mercy’s luck
Her smile outdid my wish to hide away
So I swam from pathos to love’s sway

The life of a suburb

Jack had just taken early retirement from his old job as a maths researcher. in Knittingham university.His large collection of books was overwhelming the home he shared with his excitable yet calm French wife Simone.
Simone was still working at the university cleaning computers heads all day long.Now she was hoping that she and Jack could do more entertaining.If only he would get rid of some of the many books he owned!
Simone left for work wearing her new pink cord trousers and a dark blue denim knit jumper with a long lasting beige foundation from Max Factor covering her deep red complexion.
Jack gave the cat,Louisa, a hot bath in goat’s milk.Now instead of being grey she was cream coloured.
I’ve been dyed,she shrieked politely but Jack never replied.
He pondered,as he dried her what to do with all his maths books.He had thought of making a large collage but who would want it?
Or he could donate them to the university or have a fire in the back garden.
Suddenly he looked up and saw a very charmingly pink faced woman peering into the window.
It was his neighbour Kim whose husband had disappeared last year,possibly inside a wheelie bin,though no-one was sure.
Hello,Kim,did you want me?” he cried nervously
I thought you might like some company for morning coffee.What a pretty cat.what is her name?”
Louisa was wary of Kim,Maybe the purple trousers and orange jumper might give the cat an epileptic fit… she was a sufferer, just like St Paul.She hoped to be converted but so far was disappointed.She longed to see a vision of heavenly cat food in the sky.
Can cats go to Mass? she mioawed to Jack.
Yes,but they can’t have Communion,he responded furtively
Well,we don’t eat bread but I love wine!
I’ll mention it to the Pope next time I see him,Kim said with a roguish smile.Her make up looked to be waterproof as the drip in the ceiling was right above her head and heavy rain was falling yet her face did not change at all.Was it plastic coated?
But Louisa,you would have to confess your sins.All your sins
I never did a thing wrong in my whole life ,the cat replied haughtily.
Well,you know the Church is only for repentant sinners,so if you never sin,you can’t repent. so it follows indubitably that you can’t join the Church!i studied Aristotle once so
I get all logical with emotion.I only wish I’d got to Wittgenstein..I could have loved that man….though now I seem to recall he was gay…still,who knows?
If that were true about the Church,would Jesus be allowed to join?
Certainly not.He was perfect and also he was Jewish.So why would he want to join a Christian church?
As he began it, he might like to see its holy life,Louisa purred loudly.
Really,I think this is a very odd conversation murmured the parrot,Felix Semper.
Not so odd,responded a tall dark man who just appeared from nowhere.
I am called Jesus he said,but I’m from Malaga.
In Spain many men are called Jesus,he continued mellifluously.
Is that so, cried Kim murmured tenderly.
I never met a Jesus before.If you married me it would give people a shock if I said I was married to Jesus! she whispered loudly behind her hand.
Marry you! Is it leap year? Women have never proposed to me before.
I was just thinking out loud,she replied demurely in her soft voice.
Nuns used to be married to Jesus and wore a silver wedding ring.
I was educated at a convent school.That’s why I’m so very neurotic.
Are you really neurotic? Jack,screamed anxiously
I have a whole shelf of books by Karen Horney here.Self Analysis, is just one.
I could give it to you now….
Not in front of Jesus,she muttered chastely.
Have you no moral feelings?
No,I’ve never had any feelings of any sort in my entire. life but it’s done me no harm.Though how would I know?
I’ll ask Simone when she gets back, we’ll see if she agrees!
I’m just like a computer with a human body.
I sometimes think I’d like a suit of silver armour.
Bless you,my child,Jesus murmured.
When they looked up the tall dark man was gone.
They looked around but he had left no footprints.
Should we call the police?He came in with no permission!
How disgraceful.
How dastardly.
How disgusting
How damnable.
How divine.
How dumb.
How deplorable.
So on they murmured until it was time to cook lunch. for the cats and birds.What a morning,what a life.
Bless us,oh Lord!

Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off
To hide inside a cupboard or a box
While I drowned in pathos and old wrath

I had been by mental storms well tossed
Measured by the devilish ticking clocks
Her smile out-did my wish to be cut off

I had not realised the fatal cost
Of self-help by a drastic nasty shock
As I drowned in pathos and old wrath

Her smile I let come in, though I was lost
Wandering in the graveyards of loves locked
Her smile outdid my wish to be cut off

What is it with our nonsense and old stuff
That lets each cell of skin decide to shut
As we float in pathos and old wrath?

I took my heart and on it I did pluck
The strings that sang a tune to mercy’s luck
Her smile outdid my wish to hide away
So I swam from pathos to love’s sway

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

Daddy went to Mass at 12 oclock
I followed him and crossed the busy road
I was wearing my best Sunday frock
I was only three,I knew no code.~

I went down Melbourne Road and saw the church
I saw the trees. a robin and a wren
Mothers went to early Mass in thirst
Taking holy wafers now and then

Daddy disappeared and so I cried
The verger knew my family by sight
He lifted me above the gentlemen
I saw Daddy smile at me again

He carried me on his own shoulders home
Mammy said,I wondered where you’d gone

Dr Adams was a very kind man

He never fried sprats when 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 half 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 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,you see?

Some folk can live with a marriage and affairs

Some men even keep many concubines and bears.

But he and his new lady decided to be chaste

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.

The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
Like fire,like diamonds, like the dust of stars
With their fire they penetrate the night

To expression, they the mind incite
To where the words may open and be clear
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light

Expression by its methods brings delight
We see the molten universe desire
With great fires , with wonder, what work’s wrought?

Like a flock of geese in happy flight
The heart of unknown worlds is not a liar
The sense of feeling souls will bring us light

Of the thunder and the lion we note
The natural world with its own might conspires
With its being it permeates the night

So our hearts and souls does love devour
Never cornered never shall love cower
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
With such brilliance, can we feel the night?

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The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
Like fire,like diamonds, like the dust of stars
With their fire they penetrate the night

To expression, they the mind incite
To where the words may open and be clear
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light

Expression by its methods brings delight
We see the molten universe desire
With great fires , with wonder, what work’s wrought?

Like a flock of geese in happy flight
The heart of unknown worlds is not a liar
The sense of feeling souls will bring us light

Of the thunder and the lion we note
The natural world with its own might conspires
With its being it permeates the night

So our hearts and souls does love devour
Never cornered never shall love cower
The wordless feelings of the soul catch light
With such brilliance, can we feel the night?

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 who 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

.

Love can shake us to our inner core.

Hence of your love, I wish to hear no more

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_humiliation

Oh dear what can the matter be
We sometimes dislike our own family
Oh,dear send for new batteries
My husband has gone flat with despair.

Oh,dear what can the matter be
Ambivalence strains all the flattery
Oh,dear, drive to the cattery
Alfred has lost all his hair.

He promised to lie on my lap until Saturday
He promised to eat his food and to chat to me
He promised to kiss me and love me and vacuum me
I’ll have a hot bath and prepare.

Oh,dear,what can the matter be
Love and hate mixed up in our territory
Oh, dears,love you all anyhow
Love is much stronger and fair

Alfred loved me well latterly
His owner gave him but a pat a day
I stroked him till he lay down flatterly
Love is the truth and the way

I know that’s how death will come,
Suddenly flying into another orbit when I am photographing flowers
It’s not a gentle transition.
No-one will know where I’ve gone.
One step wrong and I’m off the high wire
And plunging into the no safety net.
Flying for a while
Jumping into hyperspace,spinning electrons
Startle my wide eyes.
Transiting the new black sun
I’m on a double gold helix,
Spider on her web,
Knitting furiously
Into the future heaven on gossamer wings.
Butterfly goodbye,
I’m off to see the stars.
And the black holes.
No one will come with me.
I’m shaking off,evaporating into mist.
I’m a flying saucer on a circus mission.
I can’t say no to a new invitation.
Make it fast and break with tradition.
Time is passing smoothly till that break In the music,
I’ve been transmuted into a different key
someone else will play me on their violin
I’m a tune, I’m a thought, I’m a whisper in your vision.
Goodbye,darling.
I’m under orders Ready to leave for my performance
On the electric carpet.
Death dancing to a tune on a violoncello,
Arpeggionne sonata
I’m playing your words upside down
In a new foreign translation,
Accompanied by solo artists,ice cracking
I’m going in.
It’s too sudden.
I’m flying.
Spinning faster to amuse the clowns,
too many ups and no downs.
I’m going right out of orbit
I’ve broken the pull of gravity,
And fly with pure equanimity
Into my future life,
I’m off at some moment
An instant,a crack,a loud smack
That was me passing

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Sauce_for_the_goose_is_(not)_sauce_for_the_gander

W

There’s an old saying, “What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.” This meshes well with the Golden Rule, or ethic of reciprocity, which is a key moral principle in many religions and philosophies, and is often stated as “Do unto others as you wish to be done for you”, or conversely, “Don’t do unto others what you would not wish to be done to you.”

Look up sauce for the goose in Wiktionary, the free dictionary.

Unfortunately, when the infighting he

I miss your hand that used to hold my hand
I miss your eyes that used to smile at me
The needs of love don’t feel like a demand
I miss the hand that caressed my held hand

I miss your love and miss you as a friend.
When you gazed , your eyes lit what you’d see.
I miss the hand that used to warm my hand
I miss the eyes that used smile at me.

I miss your arms around me in the dark
I miss the morning, when we rarely spoke
On Purbeck Hills,we heard the singing lark
I miss your arms around me in the park

Poole Harbour’s beauty was a living spark
Sharing silent glances as we walked
I miss your arms around me in the dark
I miss the mornings, though we rarely spoke

Silent sharing ; company in love.
With strangers;oh,that manufactured talk.
To be silent;dome of sky above
To be silent ; spaciousness of love.

Strangers, how their talk can jolt and shove
I held your hand ; caressing as we walked
Silent caring; sympathy of love.
No stranger, blindly snatching in the dark

We called the little tree a special name
In the woods where we were wont to stay
A nutmeg tree is rare like porcelain

We loved its hanging branches blue and green
If only it were red it might be grey
We called the little tree a special name

We asked for tea but nutmeg was disdained
I often wonder whether I am gay
A nutmeg tree is rare like porcelain

I have paranoia,I’ve been framed
I want to sell my laughter on E bay
We called the little tree a special name

I split my heart and mind,I sulked in vain
I passed my darling notes so he could pay
A nutmeg tree is fine like porcelain

Then we went to bed and lost our brains
Our nipples froze, stuck on the window panes
We called the little tree a unique name
Like grains of sand, the words we count in vain

A silence rich with love and full of joy;
The silence after waking at the dawn,
Can be both an anchor and a buoy.

Yet often we don’t know what we seek for:
The latest dress, the perfect English lawn?
We forget this marvellous essence, forget joy

We murder by ignoring love’s deep core
We do not see the buds which are newborn.
We want an anchor yet we want our toys.

What is most arresting is the awe
We feel when we see human love again
Find silence rich with thought and full of joy

Out of Nature, its Creator calls
Taking in his arms what caused us pain.
Being both an anchor and a buoy.

The silence underneath the silence calms,
Stills our breathing with reviving balm.
Perfect silence, rich with love and joy
Shall be our anchor and shall be our buoy.

It seemed to me, my vision and my mind
A template to project into the world
Brought you into being by my side.

I miss you, love, so slow the seconds wind.
I crept into the space between the words
I made you in my vision and my mind

Is there only chaos, no design?
Are we dust around the spaces whirled?
I bring you into being by these lines

I smell your skin and see your eyes alive
I move my head but you have disappeared
I feel both from my vision and my mind

Why did all the pit props fall down blind?
I crept beneath black coal, with darkness smeared;
A person alien to humankind.

Who fears death, when life is sharp and hard?
What means love, when no-one else is here?
I imagined you in vision and my mind
Reality is so much more unkind

He writes like an iron bic-ed amateur
He is ill,but literate
A new EU law says women must wear bikinis in Tesco’s or wrestle with unarmed policemen in the Forum.Which do you prefer?
She is literate and beautifully formed
He’s reads swell in any form
I never like to show off my sun gnats.They bite the hand that wrote them
It’s the Sybillines that count
Make sure you do writhe all day to start with
There’s no such thing as a poetic horse.
Remember stress is useful in poetry only
She has a very worried accent.
She asked me was I very foreign.I said I was about two standard abbreviations from the mean.And by golly,they are very mean
Don’t bother about Eugenie’s ass
If you can read and write you can learn a lot of bad things and pass them on to cause more harm and sin

I’ve got writer’s block.
Oh,put your head on it

I have dried up.
Are you a river or a man?
I can’t write
.You lie,my friend.You contradict yourself

I think I am dead.
I kept telling you to stop thinking! Now,stop dying

My eye offends me
Oh,cut it out.

I’m blocked
Get someone to plumb the depths of your mind
What with?
A teaspoon will be enough

Should I pray?
Who can answer that?

Can I wear a hat in Church
Only if you are a Jew.
But they have a synagogue
You are so conceited you could get a synagogue on yours and a mosque as well.Or St Pall’s Cathedrall
You think my head is swollen?
Take some ibuprofen and follow the beat
What beat?
The heart has its reasons and it beats as well
I’ve had enough
Is it as good as a feast?

Don’t keep asking questions
Why not?
Just do as I say
Why?
Not everything has a reason
Why not?

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/09/17/this-is-the-nopoint1-personality-trait-linked-to-living-longer.html

The sky is now pale lilac edged with dark
The trees where small birds sleep are almost black
A mystic may enjoy a vivid spark
Through having senses other mortals lack.

The sky’s more pale than it is darker grey
I see a pink, a blue in clarity
Now it turns as rapid as dismay
Until devoid of such variety.

And darker still ,in grey it edges down
Until it’s less distinct from those large trees.
But with my words to keep me from a frown
Darkness comes and so my words must cease.

A mirror to the outer world in verse
May save us all from wintering with a curse

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

I came to see you leave, it was well done

I saw your faces blurred and indistinct

My eyes were full of tears I had to blink

Where I looked again the train has gone)

Kindertransport helped you to survive

I hope the children in Ukraine will live

I’m a ghost there’s nothing I can give

But tell you that my children are alive

My children have got children of their own

They live in in English towns, they play their games

English both in manners and names

Jewish in the blood and in the bones

I float away to join the other lost

I died and now you live, at what a cost

I breath as softly as a little bird
Like the robin did in Arnside Wood
Quick yet calm, who for some food would dare.

The view from Arnside Knot is  broad and fair
The atmosphere is  pure, we see trains chug
The Estuary of the Kent will never bore

Further South the Lune runs like  old tears
Morecambe Bay endangers, how it floods
Behind the Pennines rise,   the edges  fierce

Dent is ancient, mobile phones won’t dare
To penetrate  the  music of  its blood
Nor bring   their tones to hurt the mad March hare

Hutton Roof , cathedral, how we stared
A gentle hand caressed my heart to good
Meek flowers grew in the cracks  as safe,as  pure

How my heart expands  and I am glad
For mourning heals and  I am no more sad
I breath as softly as a little bird
I tiptoe on the path  the peace is shared

I wish we were in Silverdale again

The meadow full of flowers,the nettle’s sting

The boarding house,the hedges rich with song..

The sketch pad,ink, the birthday pen

My brother’s humour and his wacky games

I miss his buoyant face, his eyes untamed

At least he’s not in prison doing time.

I liked the way he misprounced my name.

I wish we were on Windermere today

The bouncing sun,the blossoms rich display

Come back now I love you anyway

My heart was stabbed with death,you went away

I saw your shadow cycling in black rain.

May we help each other with the pain?