A golden sheet

I saw your soul like that of a wild bird


Someone other guided me to act
Deep inside my voice had been unlocked
I sang the psalms and then a lullaby
Not aware in thought that you would die.


I fed you with a teaspoon the mashed fish
From a plate as good as one might wish
Like a little child you tried your best
You smiled at me and gazed like one who’s blessed


You sat up with a brighter face at last
Then lay back and God knows all the rest

Oh, don’t go yet ,my darling,I am here
The floor of heaven came down amidst my tears
Made of sumptuous satin, gold,revered
For a little moment it hung low
Then it rose and took you in its glow
I saw your soul like that of a wild bird
Taken by the Power who spoke the Word


A sheet of tears fell down from my closed eyes
It’s hard ,so hard when those you love must die

When that cat  caressed you  with its claw

cats and newspapers
Art by Katherine

Sitting in  a garden down in Kent
A  cat climbed on  your knee  though it was Lent
They should be “fasting”  like the Christians do
Unless that little cat was a  born a Jew

Christians do not fast in more than name
For this deception,  who can   heaven blame?
The Muslims and the Jews  fast from all food
But cats and   heathen people  eat and chew

They drink no water,eat no bread nor meat
Thus their Fasting  is  from animals complete

Their minds receive   perceptions as you saw
When that cat  caressed you  with its  claw

Take another standpoint  once a week
In the garden,  cats may bite your feet

Memories of childhood

My sister oh my sister do not die

I feel that I still need you in my world

And Rivington we saw the larks upfly

Anglezarke the reservoir still swirled

Fresh water for old Liverpool’s

supply

I cannot go to Rivington alone

Nor Scotchmans Stump to see birds little bones

Once we lit a fire by a stream.

I’d like to go there now my love my queen.

Sturdy and determined she would climb.

Take the bus to Horwich it’s nearby

We saw ripe elderberries full and fine

In the distance Winter Hill stood high

The highest hill about so high austere

I won’t take you there sweet Eileen dear

Houses built of gold and sin

Ante mortem let us trust
For in the grave we turn to dust
Yet in life the poor are cursed
Our treatment post mortem is just.

The worms and beetles care no more
For the rich than for the poor.
They are happy to devour
Bankers,despots,every hour.

Ante mortem, greed does win
Houses built of gold and sin
But God,who lives in each within,
Cares no more for gold thann tin

If post mortem we are judged
Why does the rich person grudge?
Why do we refuse to budge
Up until the final nudge?

Throw away your heavy goods
Live like daisies by the woods..
Fear not hurricane nor floods
As daises grow even in mud.

More dependent on all power
We trust in madmen’s city towers.
Yet God told us to live like flowers…
To enjoy life for an hour.

Perception is no privilege.
We each have the wits to judge.
See and note where you have smudged
What your creation would allege.

Post and ante, even now
The currents of our hearts allow…
The inner sea which has its flow
To take us where we need to go

Foggy park

I went  into the middle of the park
Thick grey fog had made it almost dark
I stood there with my cello and my books
I had found a space where noone looked

There was not much privacy  at all
The front door was left open, neighbours called
Grandad came with Lassy his sheepdog
He gave us sweets and  ate my mother’s bread

Now I have chubb locks on my front door
The neighbours do not walk here anymore
They jump into their cars and speed away
No little chat, no  updates on their day

Locked in metal cars without a map
We’re distant  or too close, so mind that gap

 

 

 

 

w

No fixed àddress

Noone saw me,no one met my eyes.

I felt the life inside me wilt and die

Of no value to the human race

If no-one saw them they would not exist

Leonard Cohen”s name was on a list.

I almost burned away in hot distress

The charred remains would have no fixed address.

Like the Jews who wandered for a space,

No eyes no gold ,no teeth, I am a Jew

I have no tongue to speak, nor language too.

Annie breaks into Stan’s sacred space

Some old Greek writing
Some old Greek writing (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Stan was polishing the windows again with his  big microfibre cloth.The computer was on.As soon as he finished the sitting room windows he planned to look at a google document he was co-writing with hislfriend Annie, on the failings of the British Empire..She only lived next door but they both liked sharing new techniques of various kinds.
He sat down in front of his computer and looked at his email.
There was one from Annie.

“Hi Stan
I didn’t really want to keep some of those remarks you  wrote at the bottom of our document when we were both online,so I have deleted them.  We should have gone into chat mode.They were not related to the topic we were discussing so I know you won’t be mind.And if you ask again we can chat either online or in person about sex and people’s lives
With  my  love,dearest one ,Annie

??????????

Stan felt  furiously angry and cross.  How could she know if he minded or not?
He went dark red as if his head was bursting.What was so dreadful about his remarks?He had only asked Annie if her dead husband George might have been bisexual.Stan had once seen him kissing another man  in the bushes in the park.Annie didn’t seem bothered last night.She never gave the impression to  me she didn’t like it.Maybe she’s not quick enough to react
Anyway she should not have deleted it completely without asking me first.
He sat down on his old Habitat chair [recently mended free on the NHS by Dave the paramedic,] and he  sent her an email saying he was furious with her for attacking his freedom of speech.It was unethical.It .He must assert himself.He would show her!
So he was not going to work with her on any more documents ever again nor chat on IM or Google Chat. Of course he still loved her but his anger was too strong for him to ignore.

Cat alone
When Annie got the email she was completely stunned like a cow   ready to be e.She apologized to Stan immediately but he refused to accept it  ever  even though she begged piteously for forgiveness.
Why did he want to know if George was bisexual, she wondered.Was he saying it to try to turn himself on or me? Or is he just interested in  all  different kinds of sex   and human behavior generally ,like most people are ?But it was not concerned with the document which was about ill treatment of prisoners in India under the British Empire and relating it to other acts  of outrage by the British   Government elsewhere.
I wanted to talk about us,not poor dead George.Whatever George’s sex life,he’s dead now.So l we should leave him in peace.
Meantime.Stan was thinking about how women were always interfering in his life,correcting him and improving his grammar.Making him cups of tea when he wanted brandy and some HP sauce  with his lamb chops not salad
He liked talking about bisexuality.It made him feel a sense of wonder at the differing habits and desires of humans.Why couldn’t she just go along with it or at least say something then rather than deleting his words secretly when he was off-line?Though maybe mentioning George was insensitive even though George was dead.
He was a man .He was not going to let a woman ride over him like a steam roller. Annie must learn her place in the scheme of things.

6429586_72f5d1321d_m
Where is that,asked his beautiful tom cat Emile.
I’m not sure but it’s not above me.It’s either the same or lower.
Can’t you forgive her.She may be in another dimension,another space altogether,another universe of discourse?[He’d been reading  his Wittgenstein again]
Certainly not .No way.Stan answered,
But you love her,you said many times in here.I heard you
All the more reason to maintain some boundaries. Love is not the be all and end all of life for a man!
Next she’ll be cutting bits off me with her dressmaking shears,he cried in outrage and horror!
She’ll castrate me.She’ll turn me into a woman.

6819924_f1126074c2_m altered
She won’t,she’s just a daft  postmenopausal woman,said Emile.She wouldn’t ever harm you.she’s very gentle.you know that,don’t you?
She has invaded me,she has crossed my boundary.
Some people would be glad,mewed the cat.He was always hoping a lady cat would come by. and cross his boundaries or more correctly.he would  be allowed cross hers.
Meanwhile Annie was sitting sobbing  feverishly in her bedroom.She really enjoyed co-writing documents and news sheets with Stan.Now he won’t do it any more, she whispered . He was really mad with her.He must be feeling upset and aggravated beyond  all human endurance.She had assumed too much and now she was paying the price as she lay  on her purple duvet cover with two boxes of Kleenex for men.Even  finding  the Kleenex required for all her sobbing was too much for her.

Cracks in the pavement
She cried and sobbed loudly for a while.Her eyes were bright red and bloodshot. She was so  very sad she had unwittingly distressed dear  Stan.Life is so tough she thought reluctantly.I wish I were somewhere else……maybe in Heaven with George and his bisexual lovers  beside all playing harps or mouth organs  and whatever else the could find up there.
Still,there were those new neighbours who had just moved in across the road.Two brothers,both very handsome.I wonder if they like writing on the computer,she thought.That cheered her up a bit,though she was very fond of Stan.In fact she loved him greatly and had kissed him  many times though she had never actually gone to bed with him ;never known him in the biblical sense.Was that the problem?Too late now either way,she muttered quietly to her goldfish Wayne who agreed with her analysis of the situation .
So in her mind she was moving from loving and adoring Stan to being  loving  towards yet puzzled by him.Was he afraid of being dominated by a woman?What would he be like as a lover?

???????????????????
But why try to talk about bisexuality?Could he not have thought of something else?Like female  orgasms or kissing better?
There was a new book by Betty Dodson teaching  frozen women how to have orgasms.Would he have enjoyed discussing female anatomy and pleasuring her naked female body and all the rest.
Well,she would never know now.That was certain.Thank God I’ve found out what he’s like before things went any further.He might be a little too dominating.Though a certain amount is necessary for the  consummation of love.She was so upset her thoughts began to turn towards women.
Would it be better all round to love a woman instead?Especially as I could show her how to have an orgasm having being studying this book for some weeks?Though she may already know,I guess.Still,a change is as good as a rest, so  the proverb says.
How do I find a woman who’s into other woman, as it were, she thought.Can I find one on the internet?Will there be a club we can go to? How exciting!
So Annie grew more optimistic.A woman wouldn’t mind a few words deleted from a chat either.So a feeling of mild joy came over her and her sobbing died down.

??????????
Stan was sitting in his kitchen feeling superior and dominant.Except Annie had not come for coffee so it was hard being dominant all by himself.He began to feel depressed and morose.Should he change his mind?Would he lose his window of opportunity?
Why is life so trying.Why are women so manipulative, why do they all turn out fakes and bitches,he asked Emile.Why won’t they love me as I am?
It’s partly one’s own character,Emile replied.
Hearing this Stan lost his temper and threw  the kettle of boiling water at Emile.Luckily it missed but Emile stalked out and went off to the shed leaving Stan more alone than ever.
How hard life is Stan shouted. I feel like topping myself. I”ll jump off the roof. of the civic center.I’m going to ring the f*****g Samaritans.
Just then his wife Mary walked in.What’s up Stan?
Nothing dear.I just dropped a brick on my toe
Why have you got a brick in here,in the lounge?
I was playing with it.
With a brick?
Well,it has a certain cold masculinity,he replied assertively
Cold masculinity?. Shall I make some drinks? Mary asked tenderly
Yes,please,dear,very kind
Oh,look there’s Annie walking past arm in arm with a woman.
I knew George was bisexual but now I see she is also or maybe she’s turned quite gay!Were they both gay?
Well,it’s not our business,said Mary quietly.
Aha,thought Stan.That’s what you think.If only you could see inside my mind!Inside his mind though ,he was wondering if Annie would ever see him again.But I will not forgive her,I won’t.I won’t!
What he might have said more truthfully was “Can’t”
For indeed,it is hard to forgive people for trampling into one’s sacred space even if it is an accident or misjudgment not a deliberate attempt to dominate.but …….
Life is sweet and yet very hard too for all of us but forgiveness helps

Kleenex logo
Kleenex logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sacramental trees

tree in sun

 Maybe you didn’t know

When you touched me so.

Maybe you never knew

What your words would do.

I float across that space

Where lovers once embraced

And thus you bring torment

To me to  whom  love you sent.

When I close my eyes

My daytime face then dies.

I look across dark seas

To sacramental trees.

My dreams are full of loss.

Is night or day the worse?

When we return  next  here

Will  love outstrip our  fear?

I gaze upon your face,

Forbidden  to embrace.

My arms ache deep inside,

As if in agony tied.

Torn apart by  grief

Love is now a thief.

Where has God’s face gone

As brightly shines the sun?

The pains of life  are sharp,

Cutting through the heart

But still we turn towards love,

With all the  strength we have.

Trusting in the dark

And emptiness beside

I step into the  void

Love can’t be denied

Hands outstretched across the world

I can’t love you without loving the whole world too.
I can’t open my heart unless everyone can be part.

Wait for me.
I’m not afraid.
Wait for me.
I may be delayed.

I see you in my mind
Smiling, sad and kind.
I can’t love you
Unless I love the lost too.

Give me your hands
Outstretched across the world.
We’re all one
Love has begun

Elegance lies bare

Apple tree and sunshine

In summer time when sun do shine

I’m happy on my own

I gaze up through red maple leaves

All transparent in the sun.

But when winter comes I’m lonely

Sitting here beside my fire.

So I want a  winter lover

To keep my spirits higher.

Oh,my winter love come to me

And I’ll gaze deep into your eyes

The light that shines in there

Is so much warmer than my fire.

We’ll go through wintry woodlands,

Where elegance lies bare.

The branches struck by sun

Now feel the frosty grasp of air.

I’ll love you all the winter time.

I’ll love you  in the dark.

I’d like to rest within your arms,

And have a peaceful talk

When summer comes I’ll disappear

To roam across the dales

I’ll sleep on heather moorlands

And send you loving mail.

I can’t be tied in summertime

I must be roaming free.

But ,if you accept this  need of mine,

To you I’ll faithful be.

Than the song of birds,he had the words

He ‘d held me in his arms and said,
what I had a never read,
That life is more than learned discourse.
So as he spoke, I watched his face
And his rich dark eyes;of course
His eyes gave out such  natural force
More strong and subtle than the song of birds.
Yes,almost like a poet’s words
In how he moved me like no other man;
No matter how they think they can,
They lose the step and do not dance
And never ever chance
A leap when they might lift me high
Above their head. I’d want to fly.
Yes,the form and feeling give an extra note
To express those feelings more remote…..
We do not need to speak or write
We have both touch and  our  eye sight.
And yet our human discourse is a need
An anchor,lest the current’s speed
Should crash us down on Coniston,
And we’d be gone.
Just write it down
A verb ,a noun..
A string of sighs,our mouths,our eyes.
A paragraph that never dies,
within your finger tips and cries
For pen and paper and my wish to save
Some part of you,some heart some art

far beyond your grave.

Your gaze.

My days

Will irrational lovers drive us wild?

Oh,take me hold me,love me like you do

With kisses sweet commend me  to your heart

Love me like  a tea of finest brew.

Love me like a coxes pippin tart.

oh,dance  me,swing  me, let me feel alive.

And let me feel your melody anew.

We get what we desire yet don’t deserve.

When one  is made from  love between the two.

Oh. lend me your  maths textbooks for   a while

I love  irrational numbers like a child.

and transcendental  pies do me beguile

i  feel tonight  my numbers dancing wild.

So ambiguous is  my attitude to men

I wave and then I particle again