Tag: poem

Love leaves

Winter in England

Maybe you didn’t know

When you teased me so.

Maybe you never knew

What your words would do.

I float across that space

Where lovers once embraced.

And thus ypu 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 you return next here

Will love outstrip your 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,

Trusting my own heart.

I step into the void.

Love can’t be denied

Love you at teatime

 

Cats after tea
 
 

Song of the happy husband

I find it hard to be loving at breakfast time

Listening to the horrible News

And it’s hard to be loving at Churchtime

Kneeling in those hard wooden pews.

 

 

The Bible ‘s supposed to be holy.

And it’s certainly holier than me;

For I love you so in the afternoon

When we have our Sunday tea.

 

I don’t like to listen to preaching

Avout how wicked I am

I just can’t wait till the afternoon

To sample your blackcurrant jam!

 

I know I have been a difficult person

With all my variable moods

Why not pack up a tea hamper

So we can caress in the woods?

 

I love you all the time ,darling,

But work takes a toll on my mind

But when you show me your cream filled sponge

My troubles are soon left behind.

 

I love you on a weekday

I love you  dreaming at night.

But I love you the most on a Sunday—–

Your teas are a wonderful sight!

 

When I was stuck in the hospital

Waiting for  doctor or nurse.

I dwelt in my mind on your Sunday teas

I could have been a lot worse.

 

Now my illness is over

Normal life reappears

Let’s have a special treat today……..

Let’s pretend Sunday is here.

 

Goodbye,I say.Goodbye

Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
By K

Standing together,
We lean forward touching foreheads lightly
Eyes closed for a moment
Tenderly we respect
The other’s boundaries.
Yet I feel your heart beating too,
As it it were me.
We lean for a few more moments like this.
Wordless.
Holding the broken places,with love.
Then we turn and walk away
Such moments last forever
In the eternity that Love creates
Foreheads touching,
Skin to skin..
Boundaries of the inner and the outer
You are another;
A real human person
Wanting nothing;wanting everything
I shall remember your smile.
You were with me once
And now we go our ways
Our own difficult journeys.

One meeting of souls
Creates its own symbol

May you be blessed
May the fire not burn you
Nor the water drown you
May the Lord keep you always near him.
May He protect your spirit.
May he give you strength always.

Sympathy

Sympathy is sometimes

Norfolk UK
By K

Sympathy is sometimes good,

Especially if you are  not made of wood.

Empathy can be superior

If to metal,your brain’s nearer.

Do you want to be fulfilled?

Don’t get ground by coffee mills.

Would you like to be superior?

Do not venture to your interior.

Journeys often end in struggle.

As they make the mind more muddled.

Archaic words can be a joy,

But sometimes archaisms annoy.

Do you like tea from Ceylon?

Alas my own supply’s all gone.

Do you want to study grief?

Take your lessons from a leaf.

After short weeks on a tree

To be cast off is destiny.

Into earth the leaves return

To become food for journeying worms.

So it will be for us all,

Regarding not   your status   tall

Lyra’s song

A LOVELY LUTE

The lute
The lute
 

Lyres and Lutes

When Lyra was a tiny child

She longed to play the lute.

Her Mother was not happy

The lute is not so cute.

 

Lyra began to dream of lutes

The way small children do.

She dreamed Mozart wrote a piece

He called “The Magic Lute.”

 

She was very disappointed

When she woke up in her bed.

So Lyra began imagining

What she’d like to do instead.

 

She hummed and sang from morn till night

And one day realised

That singing was her genius.

Her voice was Lyra’s guide.

 

Now Lyra ‘s in “The Magic Flute“

Opera is her thing.

She is a high soprano now.

Lyra loves to sing.

 

Like the softness of just opening leaf buds in spring.

I see a light fuzz of hair on your head
like the softness of just opening leaf buds in spring.
The chemo is over,and you wait relieved and letting that
take you for a while before you start to face the next stage.
Will your Spring turn to a warm enchanting Summer
or has the cancer,as they say “spread.”
Just for now,you’re in that lull
so in three weeks time you will not be
arriving for another session of drugs
and days of sickness.

I see the light fuzz which reminds me
of how the cat’s fur grew back after her surgery
and she,being unable to reflect or question,
leaped from the fence top onto next door’s kitchen roof;
no thought in her mind of stitches breaking.
How beautifully the patterned fur returned
and the vulnerable skin was covered again.
Oh,to look into those eyes and see you dream
about mice that live behind the shed
and how you sat watching for hours
and how you were alive till the very last moment.
Then , all of a sudden,you were gone.

Pray it will not be so for ,the fragile,loving human
now waiting and living,hoping for what you took for granted…
a “normal” life span Or maybe just three quarters of one
would be satisfactory;would be a beneficence
such as trees feel when the sap turns and begins to flow back.
bringing life out of the darkness of earth and soil.
And another Summer comes at the right time
and we find it,shall we say,satisfactory?

Touch me again

Source: Kathryn

Behind glass

When he went away,

He went away

Away.

I didn’t know where

he had gone

where had he gone?

The call came.:

call came….

Man,white,good health

Has died.

Has died alone

Died alone in an hotel room.

So a stranger would find him.

Man alone;

man alone in hotel room.

there was a man

alone

in his hotel room.

Not wanting to be any trouble.

trouble,no trouble alone

in his hotel room

not his room,you see.

not a shared room…

An hotel room.

Tall man with light brown hair

alone in a small hotel room

with no TV.

We had no smartphones

Smart

Phones

No,don’t tell , not me ,not yet.

He was all alone.

He was behind glass

glass walls

windows

a window of glass.

I could never touch him.

I could not touch him.

not touch,no,never,

Man alone.

Solitary man.

Tall man with brown hair.

Beds for love

Beds for leaving.

Don’t you die alone

in that hotel room.

Don’t go

You wanted to be alone,

afraid to feel.

Thin skinned and pale like a torn petal from a wild plant.

You were alone again

And you left me all alone;

alone without you.

Now I’m alone

in my hotel room.

my room.

Someone knocks.

I’m dreaming of you

wishing you were near me.

dreaming,wishing,

lonely for you.

He was all alone,they said.

In an hotel room.

His doom

In a lonely bedroom.

Don’t leave me yet.

Yet you were never here

behind your window

I see you

but can’t touch you.

Can’t touch you.

Can’t touch.

Touch me.

Touch me again.

Love me…

You were all alone

alone.

Why did I not break the glass?

Break the glass?

Why,why?

All alone

An hotel room

Freak verse

Source: K

Ersatz raps

Oh,I see the wolf listening..he’s so gentle or is he mental?
Oh,Ah,kerbumplof.
Shrieks,calling for mate
Bang my soul up
In your bedroom
Ker pluf
Thor.War
Storms of lightning
Hail you
AAAAAAhhhhhhhhh
Me,oh,me oh,me stuck here in my groove
Give me electric shocks;the silent treatment.Sulk for me, please,Argentina.
Screech,scream,I felt you watching.
Touch me with a feather
Dust me!
Glug!
I see the wasps round your coat
They hug you and nip your neck
Bong!
Don’t cocme near me again
wolves are not
Well come!
I sigh for mein mutter
she’s a nutter,
utter
Sob
Scream
nightmare
Thud!
You hate me!
Never call again when you’re already here
You are not welcome.
I close my door
on your foot boot
Oh,yes.
Thunder and lightening
Go home now
This is a poem as likely
ill conceived
Eagle flies while I am
Falling down a mountain…
Scree burning.
I never want to see you again,babe.My duck.
Please be a love and leave me.Cheers
That’s ok.I understand you.
Asp,gasp
Per bot fly!
No thud
No dach
sunds whimper.
It’s time for my tea and biscuit
I cooked it twice
but you were
ab ab a aaab aa absent aahaa
sent!
No.No.no
I can’t believe you!
Cut this string and let it all hang out again
Oh,bloggers.Go to bed
Now
How
Mein eschreitschzung.Flightschzung.Nachtschzung
blung.blung
blot me out
I’m an ink stain.
I like your fingers, so clean and curving
I’ll mark you and give you homework
Och,aye
It’s well come
Crooning mouse traps
See Rockefeller
drop out and
Bring a bag of sylvia plath’s
scrap paper.
did she know?
Did she k now?
Did she sweat
Bang?
Thud.My sky fell in onto the millpond
Don’t smoke near me
I’ll get burned
For I hate you
Or just want your hat and an E for
flatness
Droom,droom
Dee
Bag
bug
Ted went to bed
where he spent his honeymoon
with another woman
Not with the second one
Mathilda
It’s finished us all off
Brang.Blong
Eschreitchzung

Fleightschztung

Herr Meightschrung!

I can’t love without

Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn

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

Trust the Unknown

Trust the unknown”.
All shall be well,and all manner of things shall be well”
St Julian of Norwich

Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of self giving,
Thus to grow a newer self.

Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.

Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.

Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.

When I look I see the sunrise

And I trust all shall be well.

ON FALLING DOWN A FULL STOP AT THE END OF A SENTENCE

 ?????

If you can’t acknowledge your hatred if you deny it exists, even to yourself then it may cause havoc in your life.This does not mean letting it rip either.It is very painful to hate someone you love.This is the dilemma of the infant and of all of us in life.Perception and its possibilities and flaws are of the utmost importance to me ideas wide and narrow focus in seeing They came to my notice in the book “A Life of One’s Own” by Joanna Field [Marion Blackett-Milner] and in her later book “On not being able to Paint”

Wonderful books, still available.

This poem is an attempt to describe of the problems of only using the narrow focus in life

Blind sight scattered my wits

Like whitened bones

Across the deserts of my mind.

I descended into blackness.

Love shrank into the tame cat

By the fire,unacknowledged hate

Grew to fill the room.

I stared too much,

A full stop grew gigantic

Crowded out

All the words in the sentence

I saw nothing but this dot

Now a gigantic black hole

Into which I was dragged.

An energy coming from within my own head

Sucked me into the black hole.

That place was the wrong sort of dearkness.

Within that full stop,

Love Fundamental became invisible.

Disappered into the dark.

I dragged my eyes away

And saw the moon appear , so eerie,

It shone,grey silver.

If I had opened my eyees wider

I would not now lament

What I destroyed in the wormhole

Of the black dot that drew my eye

Into a tunnel of darkness

It blinded me to the light

Did not let me read the sentences

Beside the full stop.

An error of focus left hate

Unacknowledged,unmitigated unredeemed,

Kept from love or goodness

Afraid to spoil my love with hate,

The fear of hate became

That which spoiled all else else,

By freezing Love itself.

Find the peace of your center

Image

Deep in a pitiful saddened state,

Relaxation is hard to await

You feel so tense you can’t sit down

Your eyes glare out, and  then you frown.

You talk too fast,you lack patience

You lose touch with your common sense.

New cats today

 

Follow instructions from a book?

oh,no your entire brain’s been spooked.

So what to do to help yourself,

Not to mention your  mental health?

I discovered that very deep within

My self is always quiet and still.

To gain tranquility we  must sit

And to consciousness this peace admit.

December writing 2012

 

 

Deep down inside you are at rest

And with love your soul is blessed.

All you have to do is sit

To get in touch with this sweet state.

Your loving peace is always there

But you have spend time to discover her.

 

Sitting may sound  a simple  skill

Were we capable of will

Pretend your chair is full of glue

We have some here called UHU.

 

Pretend  that you cannot get up,

An elephant  is sitting on your lap.

Gaze patiently at a tall  tree’

We share an affinity with these,

With flowers,cats bats and bumble bees.

So let all  words and thoughts  now go.

Your mind will shift until it’s slow,

Dotty cats 2

Relaxing improves our perception,

Doing nothing is good for the complexion.

I love to look out,

And see birds about.

While glimpsing if any of them have specs on.

ALL FOR THE LOVE OF A TREE

 

 
 

 

 

My daughter‘s in love with a tree,

It’s a most wonderful sight to see.

She hugs it all night

In the pale moonlight.

But what will their joint offspring be?

 

My sister’s in love with a book

She gives it long lustful looks.

She takes it to bed

I think it’s so sad.

If she conceives it will be by a fluke

 

My niece is in love with a girl.

She thought she’d give gay life a twirl.

They dance and they kiss,

O what utter bliss!

I think I might give it a whirl.

 

My neighbor has love on his mind

He’s ancient,,but he is so kind.

He showed interest in me

But I’m in love with a bee.

So I ‘ll have to see who-em I can find.

 

My friend  loves a politician.

You’d know him,you definitely can’t miss him!..

He’s on the T.V.

He’s a P.M. to be.

.She’d be far better off with a tree!

 

Losing you

Image

As you walk away through lush leaved trees,

I see you come and go like a sine curve wrapped

around the axes

of tall trunks

and flat earth.

I want to call,”Come back”

but my mouth won’t open.

My lips are dry without you.

I’m flooded with loss already,

though I can still glimpse you now and then.

Sun,so high and golden,

yet I am like a moon,

my desolate heart its inscape,

my hands its freezing soil;

I stare as evening comes

into the dark night sky.

 

I’m getting buried in the morning.

I’m getting buried in the morning.

Ding,dong the bells will surely rhyme.
I am in no hurry
So do not make a flurry
And do not let me get there  on time.

I’m get buried in the morning
I’m puzzled as I am not yet truly dead.
There must be an error,
But never mind the terror.
I am thinking of those books I’ve never read
Put them in my coffin
And please stop that sinful laughing…
I’d like to die r  beside you in bed.

I’m getting buried in the morning…
We had to book it ten years in advance.
We are running out of space
For the human race..
But why don’t we make love again,just once?

 
If the exertion kills me
It will surely thrill me
And I’m sorry I am so unfit to  sing and dance.
You may die as well..
There’s no way to foretell.
But  why not take this very last chance?

 

The Risks of Love

The brightness of the summer light,
The songs of birds whose brood take flight,
I love to take in these earthly pleasures,
And so to fill my mind with treasures.

The conversations with my friends,
The closeness only death will end,
To share my life with those who care,
How could we have better fare?

Those who suffer pain and grief,
From whom love’s stolen by a thief,
Let us take them to our hearts,
So their healing path can start.

Those who fear friendship and love,
Who set themselves at too low worth,
Do they know how courage grows
Through acceptance of our woe

Life is tragic comedy.
Love may be the remedy.
Though if we give our hearts away
We shall have grief and pain to pay.

But if we lock our hearts up tight,
And keep all feeling out of sight,
We will wither like dead leaves,
Falling down from autumn trees.

Trees swaying

 

Source: Kathryn
Kathryn
 
 

Trees swaying in the wind
Leaves
blow
down.

 

Birds flying through the sky
look
for
lorn.

 

Winter edges ever nearer.
Frost and fog will soon appear.
Cats sleep cozy by the fire
I clean the mud off my bike tires.
Trees swaying to and fro
sig
nal
love,
.
Birds flowing on air currents.

You’re my dove

Lehitraot”… “araka” … uvidimsya pozzhe..”auf wiedersehen”….. “a plus tard”

 

“See you later” is sometimes “Goodbye”

 
 
 
Source: Kathryn
Blackness
 
  • For all mothers or fathers who have lost their sons or daughters whether in battles of war,persecution, or other catastrophes who will never hear them say “See you later” again

 

When he went away,

He said,”Lehitraot,mama.”

Do vstrechi.

He died but I’m still here

Yes,in my heart I feel his love.

But why did I live,

And he did not?

Auf wiedersehen

Lehitraot.

Yes,darling,I’ll see you later,

When the sky turns black and all the stars blaze bright

I’ll see you shining in the night.

I’ll see you in my dreams alas.

Do vstrechi.

But why you and not me too?

Araka

I can’t understand.

Lehitraot,beloved.

A plus tard

Some where in this world,you fell

But no-one,not even God, can tell.

God was absent then or in some other place

He’s gone again.

They said He’s died too,

But He didn’t have a mother like you.

Do vstrechi.

My breasts ache and my heart and soul,

My breasts were made to make you whole.

To feed, give love and to console.

A plus tard

And now they ache with grief as my tears fall.

A bientot

My body trembles in the night

As dreams may bring my lost ones to my sight.

A plus

I’d walk across the roughest bleak terrain

If l I could find my loves and hold your hands again.

Do vstrechi.

The bell rings on the ancient clock

As time goes on as normal ,it doesn’t stop.

Araka

I wish the hands of time could be reversed,

And I was not living with this curse.

People forget that I once had a son.

They think my grieving has been done.

Araka.

But grief and loss and pain will never end

Until the curtain of my death descends

Auf wiedersehen.

Meantime I look at flowers and birds and trees,

But it’s really you my deepening insight sees.

Lehitraot.

Th inscape of my heart is shown to few,

An artist of the lost would know this view.

I know I want to see just you.

Do vstrechi.

But for me there is no

Auf wiedersehen

Never again will you say

What you said that day

Lehitraot,

Mama.

Papa

A plus tard

Tot ziens.

See you later

See you soon.

See you.

 

You

 

Wherever you may go

We are in  our boat together
Sailing across the bay.
Some have an easy voyage,
The wind is blowing their way.
I wish I could always be sailing
Across a wide ocean with you
And never reach the other side
though it may be in view.
I want to see the sunrise
Across the dappled sea.
The ripples of the water
Reveal a new world to me.
One day this boat will reach the shore
Unless destroyed by storm
And I shall have to leave your arms
Where I have been so warm.
So just before we get there
I wanted you to know
That I shall always love you
No matter where you go.

 

Let your lips meet gently,

Let your lips meet gently,
the top one resting against the lower,
touching with tenderness
 your own skin to skin.

Forefinger propped on chin,
I let the others dangle,
like leaves on a branch;
how softly gravity tugs them downwards.

Let heart beat quietly,slowly
as the blood circulates
carrying its music ,
a river,
following the path of least resistance.

How the blood vessels receive willingly this flow,
touching it kindly as with tiny open fingers,
helping and being helped.

How the hair on the head
floats
on the breeze,
like tentacles of an octopus
waving goodbye.

Top eyelid loves the lower one;
as we blink they touch
like lovers kissing swiftly
behind a tree.

and how the light comes in
we see a world.
[mine may not be yours,]
but the blink of my eyelid
sends waves through the air,
so we’re all touching and being touched,
lips kissing each other,
kiss all living creatures.

skin to skin.
air to air.

And inside us,the rich darkness
of creative night
 transforms,in turn,
these touches
into dreams

 

A merry moral tale

Lake in gardens of Lea Valley water UK
 
 
 
 
 

Stan was cooking dinner today,

While his wife went out to play.
He cooked a pie of frogs and cress,
He wanted to impress.

Stan was wearing his old clothes.
Where old clothes come from,no-one knows.
He meant to change when he was done,
So he and Mary could have fun.

But Anne his neighbour rang the bell,
Stan was so surprised he fell.
He hit his head upon the stove,
And his poor scalp turned blue and mauve.

Ring 999 and ask for Dave,
This man is old yet must be saved.
The paramedic gave him glue
To stick together his old shoe.

Then he rubbed on arnica.
Stan’s head looks like Guernica.
“Get the camera,take a pic.”
Stan was feeling rather sick.

“How can you use my wounds as art?
Rest assured I’ll take no part.”
He hit the camera with his stick,
And felled his mistress with a brick.

So now they’re in a mixed sex ward,
This experience can be shared.
They get their food at 3 am
Half for the ladies,half for the men.

The doctor asked them what went wrong.
Both of them had lost their tongues.
Neither would say what they’d done!
Now their anger is all gone.

The moral of my myth is this:
Being unfaithful is not bliss.
Mistresses can be a pain,
Especially if they’re very vain.

And better not to look for love,
Except with cats or sweet white doves.
Let your neighbour love you less!
And don’t make comments on her dress.

And as for voyeurs,keep a crutch.
Hit them hard, but not too much.
If they want a work of Art,
Tell them home is where to start

Leave a little space for grace

 
Source: Kathryn
 
 

Grace

 

 

 

When you speak,leave a little space.
And I’ll leave a little space before I respond.
A space where my mind can gather in her nets
to see what your sentences draw up.

 

The inner seas call out.
They ebb and flow
Tossing treasures onto the shore,like
Sea shells where once your ancestors dwelt.

 

Sometimes it’s good to walk that shore line
with an empty mind.
The vast space of the sky and ocean
can be freeing.

 

Space for dreamers’ boats to sail.
to unknown and alluring places.
Is the wind fair?
It seems partly chance
and partly readiness.

 

When you speak to me,
I’ll wait a moment;
Then, in that space, my words will rise
to engage and mingle with yours.
Something new is born…….
Our creation.

Leave a little space,
A little space between us.
Space is the place for grace,
for the spirit to enter us.

Leave a little space for the unknown,unborn,the waiting.
We must spare a little space for creation
In between our minds.
The in-between is where life starts

With your meditative heart.

 You play on a clarinet;

I play on my  cello.

Your music is poignant;

My music is mellow.

I can’t play from your music;

You can’t play from mine.

Our music must be transposed,

But will not be the same.

I have longer fingers.

You have bigger hands.

You play some from memories

which I don’t understand.

I play from my own history,

You compose your own.

You have tragic feelings,

which I have never known.

Would you play my music?

Then it must be transposed;

but we can’t transpose our feelings,

Unless we are shown

how to draw out symbols

From the dark Unknown.

I love the music that you play

and I know you do love mine.

But can we play together

with a meaningful design?

Transposing keys and feelings

Is an arduous,lengthy task;

Much easier to play falsely

and never,never ask.

I can’t share your lifetime hurts

and you cannot share mine.

Is it easier to share happiness

and in love to entwine?

Oh,play your poignant music for me

with your meditative art.

I shall listen with my ears

and listen with my heart.

And then I shall respond to you.

My instrument is here.

I am playing  quite new  music.

I feel you drawing near.

Suddenly we are moved to play

A completely new design.

I seem to feel your feelings

And I can hear that you feel mine.

Together we seem to make a work

Of torment and release.

This music is so tragic,

Yet its design has brought me peace.

Play on,play on,for now I know

I begin to understand,

without more words or gestures

than those from your curved hands

The love song of J.Stanley Prufrock

 

Love apples
Love apples

Cat disgusted
Happy cat

Oh,Stan is feeling happy.
His wife has gone away.
She’s gone out to Australia.
She won’t be home till May.

Oh,Stan has got a mistress.
She lives next door to him.
She is very curvy.
She won’t go to the gym!

Her first name it is Annie.
She loves Stan and his cat.
She wears far too much makeup.
Her cheeks are very fat.

She wears bright coloured stockings.
Her handbag’s apple green.
She wears a dark red jacket,
In case she meets the Queen.

Stan loves Annie dearly.
He loves his wife as well.
What will be the outcome?
I’m damned if I can tell.

They’ve been in this threesome
 For twenty seven years;
Even though Stan’s mother
 Said it would end in tears.

Mary is Stan’s wife.
They only had one child.
Her name is little Lyra.
and she is very wild.

She looks quite like a tiger.
Her eyes are very sharp.
But Lyra’s a musician.
She plays an Irish harp.

Stan wanted more children,
But Mary went off sex.
She never let him love her
Except via a text.

She called him her sweet baby.
She called him little lamb.
Stan gets very angry.
For Stanley is a man.

He wants to join with Mary
Like couples usually do.
He wants to unite with her
But she always has the flu.

So now she’s giving lectures
In the southern hemisphere.
So Stan makes love to Annie
And swigs ten pints of beer.

The cat Emile is watching.
He keeps a daily log.
Stan has bedded Annie
Right there on the rug.

He’d vacuumed it that morning
To Emile’s great surprise.
The antics performed on it
Have opened Emile’s eyes.

Now they go to the kitchen
And microwave a meal.
Then Stan says to Annie
“I like the way you feel. ”

 

Stan has a bug:light verses

 

 6819924_f1126074c2_m alteredStan woke up with a sore throat.

He had to write his wife a note.

He could not speak without much pain.

Oh,damn,he’s got a bug again!

Mary made him lemon tea.

He listened to the BBC.

He read the Guardian front to back,

Did Su doku,called the quack!

This is Dr Browne right here,

but only gurgles could he hear!

He drove straight round to visit Stan,

He felt concern for this old man!

Stan was lying in the hall.

Dr.Browne asked,Did you fall?

No,said Stan,I hate my bed.

I thought I’d lie down here instead.

It may be draughty,never mind.

Dr Browne is very kind.

What about this long settee?

It looks quite like a bed to me.

I hope you are not feeling gay!

Oh,my God.What did you say?

I mean it seems a trifle odd

To compare a sofa with a bed.

I wonder if you love me, Stan?

Stan said,Doctor you’re a man!

I only love the sweeter sex!

Dr Browne looked very vexed.

Doctor I never knew before.

You are gay.,Oh,zut alors!

Yes,but I am very chaste.

I never go below the waist.

So you just hold hands and kiss?

Yes,my man,it’s utter bliss.

But were do you meet your lovers gay?

I find them mainly on E-bay!

I place small adverts in the Times.

I joined a club for tasting wines.

Some I meet by chance alone.

Can’t you settle on just one?

I feel that lifestyle can’t go on.

But you are unfaithful to your wife?

You do not lead a saintly life!

Oh,Mary is not keen on sex,

She sits in bed and sends out texts.

Once our Lyra had been born,

She treated me with utter scorn!

Then I met my mistress Anne.

I went next door to ask for jam.

She came out and took me in.

Do you think that was a sin?

I’m not God, I do not judge.

He gave Stan‘s arm a little nudge.

Don’t you want a tiny hug?

Who knows,it may scare off that bug!

So Stan and Dr Browne embraced.

I assure you it was completely chaste.

Stan went off to make hot drinks

While Dr Browne admired his Quinks.

Do you use a fountain pen?

I use my Shaeffer now and then.

I got it when I went to college.

Through that pen has passed much knowledge.

But now my mind has gone quite blank.

I’d like to be completely frank.

Was my learning utter waste?

Not at all,it kept you chaste.

While you had your head in books,

It kept attention from your looks.

But now you’re empty,Je t’adore.

With that he made for Stan’s front door.

Stan was gobsmacked by this visit.

He called to Emile:Oh,what is it?

Even though I’m 93

All I meet want to love me!

The English are mainly very queer.

Oh,said Emile,Oh,dear,dear!

Goodbye,I say,goodbye.

 

Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
 

Standing together,
We lean forward touching foreheads lightly
Eyes closed for a moment
Tenderly we respect
The other’s boundaries.
Yet I feel your heart beating too,
As it it were me.
We lean for a few more moments like this.
Wordless.
Holding the broken places,with love.
Then we turn and walk away
Such moments last forever
In the eternity that Love creates
Foreheads touching,
Skin to skin..
Boundaries of the inner and the outer
You are another;
A real human person
Wanting nothing;wanting everything
I shall remember your smile.
You were with me once
And now we go our ways
Our own difficult journeys.

One meeting of souls
Creates its own symbol

May you be blessed
May the fire not burn you
Nor the water drown you
May the Lord keep you always near him.
May He protect your spirit.
May he give you strength always.

Light touches

Skin soft yet firm

Divides yet unites;

Paradoxically elegant solutions

to these lyrical questions.

How lightly you touch me,

Yet I feel you so much.

In turn I touch you.

Life is a pattern of mutual grace;

we are all touched

By the light and the darkness.

Forgive us,O God,

For forgetting your face.

Sun piercing through red maple leaves

Patterns the flagstone path.

Hear how the blackbirds call,

As we wander,paradise is not for humans.

Though in the end,every living moment

Is paradise on this warm skin of our world,

as it spins again in the void:

And He said:

Let there be Light.

And there was light

We need to be mended

The wailing wall

The wailing wall

I shall try to explain,

but the world is not logical.

the bank notes are old and crinkling.

your face appears like it’s own negative

the wind glows and the sun howls.

why is the rain blue?

i wanted a new weapon but the rainbow was

too long,i need something small and portable,

like a pen i once had.

just a pencil and paper will be fine,

but please look round.

we’re all related in the DNA

but the fighting goes on for what?

does it matter my great grandfather was a Viking

who killed when necessary

or my grandmother sang in Gaelic

and swooned over dead children?

i can’t see but i hear their voices murmur.

a blue and a brown will go together

like harris tweed.

shall i give you some needles to patch yourself

before it’s too late?

i have long threads and connections for you,

if you will listen.

you don’t need the A to Z of London

in this world

it’s not relevant any more

to know exactly where you are,

just use the finger tips to feel the cave walls.

do we know whether to go back or forward

or even upside down?

trust the sense of bones and nerves

and the sea in our veins

linking us all

into a human ocean

all one.

Rainbows flew from his hands

You have come here gradually,

From the whirling chaos of the dreaming infant

anchored by the maternal hand to earth

To your present adult state

Do not try to fly back to heaven today.
Be patient;your guides will,with no effort,
Teach you the patterns and the dance.
All you need is to be open and to trust,
For you have a place in the world
 We need your contribution.No-one else
Will see this world from your perspective.
And as you trust the chaos now,fear it not
Should it return.Every creative act
 involves the breaking of these barriers
by which we keep the chairs and tables
anchored into themselves.The patterns may break up
But new ones are somewhere near.Patience
 With this suffering is the only route now.
You cannot go back.Heaven comes only after
 You have grown roots into this earth,
Grown sunward,and travailed the storms
And stinging blows;have grown your flowers and leaves
 And let them fall.
Accept, The only way you can go
Is the earthly way.
You are part of us.
We love you.Our hands are reaching out
If you just lift your eyes.
In the Chaos,God danced and rainbows
Flew from his hands and tears fell from his eyes.
Those tears which fertilised the earth,
He wept, knowing of the pain to come;
And yet,he did not cease to dance

Love skin,love bone

I run my fingers tentatively

down your cheek,

asking you a question

with my eyes.

looking at each other,

you touch me too.

This is my skin

my boundary.

Yours is thicker,

like rubber.

I run my fingers down your chin.

what is this little bone?

I like it.

I like your skin

I like your bones.

I like you.

you please me.

you are tasty.

I like your taste,

your skin,your eyelids.

I like your eye here,

and your other eye too.

Nice one!

I like this hair on your head.

May I touch your hair?

do you like hair?

hair makes me laugh.

I have a fondness for laughing.

I love to laugh.

I enjoy laughter

I love your laughter.

If not, smiling is good also.

Or a gleam in the eyes,

showing the inside smile,

the smiling heart.

I like your inside,

Outside

and possibly

your backside.

your upside and downside.

your side sides.

I snuggle you all around with soft wool.

I knit you into my scarf.

I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!

How unusual

How flexible.

How charming.

How alarming

How creative

How interesting.

What an idea!

what a notion

but you are too big for me to knit

So I’ll just touch your hand

with my fingers.

and you touch my hand

with your fingers.

What good hands we have

with such fingers.

fingers are for touch.

fingers are keen to touch.

I like touch.

what would we do

without fingers?

I like your skin.

skin is good

We love skin

We love.

We.

I want skin to be ours

and yours

is mine

and mine

is yours

where is the edge of the world?

skin has no end

it’s infinity

au naturel.

what order!

what design!

What wonder.

what awe.

where is the world’s skin?

tenderly we touch the world

as the world embraces us.

It’s called love.

Love.

The fleeing lovers:a sonnet

Puzzled cats by Kathryn

When yet another lover flees my king sized bed
and leaves me cold and lonely in the night
I wonder on the thoughtless  words I’ve said,
Or if  for him my eyes ddon’t glow woth light?

I lure them in with all my female arts.
They feel I’m like a spider with a trap.
to lure ,devour,digest my  handsome guests,
Some think there should be warnings on the map,

But most who find me feel they have been blessed.
I give them my attention and desire
I give them gentle care and sing sweet songs.
I give them comfort by my winter fire

Oh,come back ,sweet one,don’t desert me yet,
The clothes I washed for you are still quite wet.