Tag: poetry

Shut the door to refugees

Where have all the cowards gone?
Wrong time passing
Where have all the cowards gone
Wrong rhyme ago?
Where have all the cowards gone?
In the government half of them
When will they pay and go?
When will old Satan show?

See him in a liar’s eyes
See him in the murky skies
See him laugh as children die
See him,hear him by and by
when will we ever learn?

Let children drown in warm blue seas
Shut the doors to refugees
Like we did to Europe’s Jews
Just buy red poppies and feel pleased
When will we truly mourn?
When will we ever grieve?

The sacred spaces

The spaces once held sacred are destroyed

Like Salisbury plain where sheep could safely graze

Now for soldiers use and practice Wars.

The Bedouin who inhabit deserts cry

The Negev is no longer a free space

The places for creation are destroyed

Before the birth of Christ, they wandered by Their little tents and camels no disgrace

Deserts are for practising new Wars

To shepherds and their flocks we say,Good bye.

The land is used for shooting, so debased

The places for creation are destroyed

The Lamb of God is fined and unemployed

Search for peace, be treated with distaste

Deserts are for practising new Wars

Of the Spirit, is there any trace

As the Lord God turns away his Face?

The spaces once held sacred are destroye

Now for soldiers use and Final War.

Copyright@Kathrerine

See the face, how watercolour flies

The gravity  and grace of those who’ve  died
Make us pause and take a deeper breath
The distant look of  almost closed , dear eyes

Now the nerves and muscles do not try
Their life has gone and they are on the path
The gravity  and grace of those who’ve  died

The larynx closes. we  hear no  more cries
Nor  yet is there any mourners’ wrath
See distant look in  almost closed , dark eyes

Space and peace and caring are allies
Somehow we shall know what is the best
The gravity  and grace of those who’ve  died

See the face, how watercolour flies
Seized is the hand  when put to its new task
Catch his look ,his  almost shuttered eyes

No longer to face challenges and risks
No longer do the fingers urge his wrist
The grace of those who have just  gone  survives
The   holy  soul ,the weeping of mine eyes

Is there sacredness in this world now?

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IMG_0269

We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn

As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?

In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land

The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?

The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease

We let the prisoners out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear

It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
When we self defend with bitter lies

Your face is etched upon my heart

Your face is etched upon my heart.

I knew you in the morning light

Love is wise but never smart.

We have no need of others charts

In the mornings and the night

Your face is etched upon my heart.

As we waken sleep departs

To see your face is my delight

Love is wise and sometimes smart

Intuition, craft is art

Love is silent, hatred fights

Your face is etched upon my heart

Human Love can see in part

Face to face we’ll see aright

Love is wise love is not smart

Your face is etched upon my heart.

Love is wise but never smart

Is love blind? Who etched the lines?

Sacred, human, love is kind

The long white sands

It wish I were in Old Hunstanton town

The long white sands the laughing sea  the sky.

I can’t go back the yellow gorse has spikes.

I saw the graves of all the seamen drowned

I wish you held my hands  in your warm hands

I wish your  eyes were gazing into mine.

I wish that we could change the day and time

Walking in the place where sea meets land.

At Blakeney we walked out along the dyke.

When we turned the church was out of sight.

We never got a chance to take a boat.

To see the seals in some place more remote

I wish that we could bring back  Norfolk’s light

But we have got the vision and the sight

Poetry reading

His hair stood out like fuse wire in a rage

His eyes gleamed like the sun trapped in a cage

As he read his poem I was impressed

By the gift of words he has been blessed.

The women were enraptured as they gazed

His poetry was as complex as a maze.

His voice played on my heart I was well used.

Music is the food of love,I mused.

And poetry is our music,our music and our guide

If we cannot listen,out hearts will shrink and die

Walking on forever,so we think

Everyday we walk upon our path

Where did it start, who told us to do this

Thinking life’s forever, blind to death.

We must keep moving whilst we have our breath.

Somewhere on the way we learn to kiss

Everyday we walk on the same path

We all travel to the same address.

Imagined heaven, who can can bear the bliss?

Thinking life’s forever,blind to death

Who made demons, full of ancient wrath?

We know the target, we never think we’ll miss.

Everyday we walk on the same path

Forgetting that in Eden snakes did hiss

The wanderers of the world cannot desist.

All we do not want, we must resist

Everyday we follow our own paths

We think this life’s forever blind to death

Most sensuous, most tangled with love’s grace

Could it be despair  that held me tight

in the wintry evening and the night

I could not see a way to  carry on

Everything  was wrong and I was done

I saw great blackness all around myself

I could not be restored, I had no health

I   had reached the end of seeking aid

God alone  knew all the coins were paid

  Inexplicable, the  golden light

That made a sweet shawl round me on that night

Impressing me with kindness and goodwill

Holding me until I had had my fill

Most sensuous, most tangled with love’s  grace

Surrounding me,  protecting my lost face

As if the arms of love were something real

That anyone  who knew this  must reveal

Only when we reach the very end

May the force of love on  us descend

i

 

May the force of love on  us descend

The world in doubt

After world war II I can’t believe

The Russians want to fight for no good end

They skilful and they will deceive

Onto many endless darkness will descend

Even one life lost destroys a world.

Destroys the latent good that would have come

In every act and word these young men shared

There was a future life, will that be bombed?

Little children on the train gaze out.

The entire world and love are now in doubt

The heart of darkness

Indifference tolls the knell of humankind

So easy just to turn our eyes away

We often self deceive or mimic blind;

So Hitler goosestepped while w foolish Pope just prayed

How bright the candlelight on Christmas trees

And tender children widen joyous eyes

Yet for the other,we will hear no pleas.

At every heartbeat “foreign” babies die..

Can we love any but those with our name ?

what sense the story in which Arab aiding Jew?

Is the underlying truth not seen

As Jesus said the chosen are but few

We split the world into a double view

The good, the bad,the heart of darkness slew.

I’m lonely, just for you.

I didn’t know I’d love you
With both my heart and mind
Every love is different
Each is a special kind

I didn’t know I’d miss you
In quite the way I do.
For we can’t feel emotion
Before its time is due.

And are you missing me now
Despite angelic hosts?
They may care for you .my love

But I think I care the most.

Yet all human lovers
Must part and go their ways.
Some may die and fall to dust
Some may go astray.

I didn’t know I’d love you
And hurt invade my heart.
I didn’t know tm you’d love me.
But we would have to part.

From mother and her bosom
From father and his strength
We lose and gain throughout our life
Whatever is its length.

I didn’t know I’d miss you
With all my suffering heart.
But . as we’re made of fragile flesh.
Humans sadly part.

If you had been a sadist
If you had been unkind.
I would not now be grieving
And losing half my mind.

So I should be grateful
For being found and known.
I wish you were still sitting here.
And I were not alone.

When we feel so lonely
No-one else will do.
It’s not that I ‘m just lonely.
I’m lonely, just for you.

In the wet and stony
Pathways we must go
We must keep on walking;
Be patient when we’re slow.

The inner force is working
To make new maps for me.
Wherever they shall guide my steps,
With you I’ll long to be.

Creation

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by Mike Flemming copyright

My old blue fountain pen allows
The ink across this page to flow
Like wet paint from an artist’s brush,
And words come in a rush.
Enchanted by the hand that writes .
Bewitched by art,beauty alights
The script is like a music score
Through which we step as through a door,
Imagination’s home.
As,mysteriously, to you, to me,
The spirits of our hearts are tamed ,
By rhythms of pen,of brush, of mind,
They enter vision quite unplanned,
Like moths to flutter softly round
Fire joined heart and hand
The pen slows down,the hand grows still,
And ,just as dreams at daybreak will,
They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone
Like dew dies in hot sun

A strange result in some research:Religious people were more likely to lie for financial gain

Angels i n church window...Mike Flemming

http://www.salon.com/2013/10/22/study_religious_more_likely_to_lie_for_financial_gain_partner/

I think it’s not so surprising amongst Christians because Jesus came to save sinners and so more sinners go to Church…They need salvation but it must take time!That’s why we have Confession/Or maybe people who go to Church are from lower social classes and so are short of cash?I always found rich people avoid tax and so on regardless of religion.

Maybe “trying “to be good is counterproductive!

I’m not sure about Jews….I knew a lot at work and they were all more than honest.Also they seem more intelligent…. after all they invented the alphabet writing,story telling,ethics,morals,poetry…..God!Why should they steal?

Now don’t blame me…read the research!

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Teach me how to cry

Daddy, how we missed you when you died
None had understood but one of five.
Come back,Daddy,miss your sunny eyes

I imagined we must never cry
When the cancer took your life
Poor Daddy, how you suffered,then you died

When you wanted company, I tried
I was too articulate for my age
Come back,Daddy,miss my Daddy’s eyes

By the flower beds, you wanted a guide
You wanted me to talk.I really tried.
Daddy we fell down a hole, why did you just die?

You slept all alone when pain arrived
We girls slept with mammy, on your side
Come back,Daddy, don’t you miss our eyes?

I always hum like you did, though I’m shy
You are singing through me, close and wise
Daddy, we have missed you all our lives
Come back,Daddy, teach me how to cry.

My watercolour love

Joseph_Mallord_William_Turner_-_Norham_Castle,_Sunrise_-_WGA23182

Though our colours mingled, the earliest remain.
Two watercolor paintings without frames,
Became one picture over time,
Yet two of us still there.
Our colours blended naturally,
Now all the hues are shared.

I love your colours flowing into mine:
Together they have made a new design.
A Watercolor painted by the rain;
We shall go, but our Watercolor Love will still remain

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Stormy heart


When the windows shattered
And the splinters flew in
He just made for the back door
And left me
not knowing where to begin.
When the shards of glass hit me
And pierced my vulnerable skin
He was already going
Leaving me
feeling he was an inhuman being.
When I fell down covered in glass and bleeding,
And the storm raged on,
I didn’t look round because
I knew,I knew,I knew,
I knew he would be gone.
Suddenly peace came, the storm had quite
disappeared..
It was all over so quickly
Not as murderous as I feared.
My wounds were bad,I have to confess.
I had no bandage
Nothing with which to dress.
With an old towel I cleaned my blood
Then I lay me down to pray.
Since that day,no storms come this way.
My wounds are healing
I have just one thing to say.
When the storm was so bad
He left me all alone…
but strangely since then
all is peace and calm.
His absence has become
almost a balm.
But I hear stories of fierce storms rising up
In towns and villages
Not too far from here, where a wandering man appears.
Seems like he’s running to get away
From some storm
But he takes it with him
He gives it form.
So when the windows crashed in
glass flew at my face
he left me all alone
In what he thought
was a very dangerous place.
Did he not pick me up
and carry me outside?
No,my daughter,he left me alone;.
But since then
I lost a great burden…
And I lost a great feeling of shame.
Rise up,you women,bleeding and torn.
For on days like this,a new resolve is born.
While you live don’t accept all the blame.
Don’t live so long as I did,in fear and in shame.
Rise up and find that calm
In the eye of the storm…
On days like this
a new woman is born

Blown away with your smoke

 ???????????????If I go I won’t tell you.

I’ll just disappear one day.

Like when a cigarette ,which seemed so long,

suddenly has become smaller

and you never noticed it

because you were talking

about the meaning of life

while life was somewhere else

blown away with your smoke

into the sky

and then dispersed

never quite visible again

but still floating on the breeze

hoping to be caught

in a butterfly net

but unable to communicate

except by flying.

If I go it will not be today

but it will be an ordinary day

no one will realise

that it’s that day

that the bird flies

from her nest

to go to a new place

only seeing the deserted nest

he realises,

my bird has flown

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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.

The dark blue skirt has flown and I am all alone

The skirt that I wore,that I wore,that I wore

The dark blue skirt that I ,I I wore,wore wore.

I wore no hat

The skirt that I wore to your, your, your  funeral service

Your funeral,the skirt I wore…that day,that live long day..

The skirt that I wore has vanished away

Since the old man decided  he’d die.

It hung very well,very well indeed

It hung very well,shall we say?

It hung very well  and draped elegant I pray

When the coffin came inside,came inside ,inside…

An now it has gone,like a flag  torn from its pole

It’s gone to its home high above

Across the blue sky,it  seemed to want to fly

On that very hot day, on that day, I say.I say!

When we sent you,my dear,far away,far away

It’s not a surprise   that  the skirt has flown so gay.

For such was its nature and way,oh,its way ois own way

The colour was so stunning

Black yet blue,becoming…

It turned the heads of the men,oh the men

So instead of saying,Sorry!

They said,May we meet tomorrow?

And this to my widow’s weeds,Indeed.indeed,indeed.

.Oh,leave me alone, like a toad under a stone

I’ll never love a man again,again,again,again

I have given away my heart

And  the deep hole is full of hurt

It pains me to think he has gone.

Has he gone?

No,don’t go.

Has he gone?

No,oh no ,John

I saw him in his chair

But my hands passed through like air

And empty was my  fond embrace..

Yet smiling was his face as he saw me dressed in lace

A wedding he wanted it to be,in my dreams,

my dreams and schemes

But it was but a sad  yet well right end

To the time  here on earth that he did spend

Spend,spend,spend

A working and a  loving for a while.

So if you see me smile,I do not you beguile

I  am dreaming  about what  gives me joy  yet truly hurts

That divine dark blue skirt and  my jacket of jet black

Have gone in search  of him,yet again,again

So high in the sky, with the square root of minus pi

For ever they will fly,they will fly, oh fly!

A sign of  heavenly love

Yet  heaven was not above

But down here  with my dove.

A weeping I’ll ever be,

For I shall never feel or see

his tender touch on me

A weeping and a wailing for a year.

His foot on the stair, his benevolent ,wide eyed stare

Oh,love,oh love,my dear.

Oh love where have you gone?

You were a  kindly one

For ever I’ll be rent

My skirt tore into two

After your big do

So out of the window it flew,oh how  it flew

And  now I’ll never see

My skirt and mon ami.

In desolate devotions I shall be.

Adieu,mon petit.

You were such a darling treat.

Till  we meet again

Tot ziens

Later, my dear  one

I too shall be gone but will  we meet again?

In this the world of war

I’m afraid  to read what’s happening

My spirit cries and wails

We can’t go on to war,

Might they read the  News in braille?

I am tired of talk of foreigners

Aren’t we  passengers inone boat

So  why  not work with our  love and hope

To keep our sacred world afloat.?

We  shout out prayers and litanies;

We fast and we abstain;

But God is looking down his periscope

And he  says  the Way is plain.

I saw the soldiers  ready with their weapons cocked

For millennia and aeons

For men must prove their potency

Again,again,again.

Now the women have to fight as well

And we wear  big plugs inside  our ears

We restrict our gaze without  the need for scarves

And we deny our fears.

Let them read the News in Babylon

Let them collapse in Jericho

Let the walls be ever built anew

To make old animosities re-grow.

Shout the News in Cyber space

Type it on your blog

What worth is this old human race

In this unholy bog?

I  once held my hands out to you

Across  seas and oceans wide

I sang and told my stories

But your  fighting won’t subside.

My hand is getting weary now

I cannot hold it out much more.

I never felt the warmth of you

Saw an image of closed doors…

So,go  shout it in Jerusalem

We  have so many  Wailing Walls

Go shout it out in Syria

Where was man before the Fall?

The lions lived on weetabix

And the tigers  leaves of grass.

The zebras got  their stripes re-done

But all that men surpass.

When I was a  puking baby

They atom  bombed Japan

Already, Europe’s Jews were gone.

Who was it walked  the Walk of Man?

Is it stronger to be cruel

hunted  to hunter,no surprise

see themselves in victims’ eyes

want to heal, they want a cure

inflict suffering,can’t endure.

build new walls, recreate the past

cannot wait,must do it fast

relive history in the now

can’t escape,don’t know the how.

evil passes like a gift

race is offered to the swift

why do humans live like fools?

is it stronger to be cruel?

soon we too  must be away

life is over in a day

but while we live let us perceive

we have selves  and they deceive

In the land that dreams dwell in

In the land which dreams dwell in

where love and joy and life begin;

how swiftly the deep rivers flow

from those lost lands of long ago.

I wander through wild poppy fields

Underfoot the dark earth yields….

I see the flowering fruit trees start

Their blossoms gather round my heart…

I hear the sparrows sing with joy

And bees their busy wings employ.

In those lost lands I saw your face

And now I long for your embrace.

Are you real,am I deceived?

From this earth we all must leave.

Earth to earth and ash to ash

Glory,pride and boasting pass.

Leave me now,my dearest one

Soon I too will be called on.

Nothing lasts but truth is real

Keep the truth and your ideals..

Earth to earth, we rest in clay

We must give all self away

Softly on this earth I roam

Seeking still my love and home,

for until the very end

Love and kindnss may descend.

Soft as wings of butterflies

Tears well up and wet my eyes.

My heart has melted into yours

Thus we grow and die like flowers

What makes a poem a poem?

When I was writing this,I could feel myself as a bird  up in the sky looking down at the earth,the hills and the lakes.And I still feel that now.However in my opinion it is not a real poem unless other people also feel something of that when they read it.I find it’s so easy to think you have written something good because you feel  so good  during or after the writing.But that does not mean it is good,objectively.I might feel good mixing up eggs, flour,sugar and butter but if I don’t know how to bake it will  probably not become a cake however good the making feels.I know it’s not exactly the same but I hope you can grasp the point.I suppose it might be true of love as well…Feelings alone are insufficient.

Here is a useful website

http://www.dailywritingtips.com/telling-a-good-poem-from-a-bad-one/

THE LARK

Freed from her trap
Bird soared into air,and hovered
And floated, resting;
And flew higher, singing as she flew,
And higher again,
Till there was only her song,
Left in the silence,
Trembling.
Up on the wide,stump topped hill,
I felt the lark inside my heart
And heard her singing.
And flying up with her,
I saw gold sun and silver moon,
Moors of heather ,and sheep grazing
Green hills,
And shimmering lakes,
Clouds ,sun and sky in watery mirrors.
And sang ,and dipped,and dropped,
And curled
Up the blue
Bright heaven, and rested
On the wind.
All that day
I was a lark singing.
I shall always have a vision of
A bird
That flew upwards,
Rejoicing and free
Into a deep blue sky, and high
And higher
Beyond high
Into a place, beyond eye even,
But music still sending.
I wish I were back on that heathery moor,
With the nibbling sheep and the bees sweetly humming,
Hearing again
The poignant song
Of the skylark,
A prisoner,freed by a magician,
From her trap,
So happy to be free,
So wonderful to see.
Do it again,
For me,

The Always and Never Life of Sylvia Plath

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http://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/02/the-always-and-never-life-of-sylvia-plath/272707/

http://www.psychological-observations.com/key-concepts/ambivalence

I suppose she loved him for always

until he unpeeled his banana for another woman

Then she never loved him at all.

Perhaps fifty shades of beige might have been better

but then again

Some folk will always

prefer the high wire.

Appearances, both natural and contrived

How gently,sweetly softly flowers pose,

Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
For their intricate petals form a shield
Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield.
Appearances,both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.
As knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare.
We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,he  her virtue takes.
Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?

No sound,no touch,no smell,no sight,no seeing.

In fields of lushest  buttercups we ‘d lie
We’d watch the clouds as gently they blew by.
Love was born we thought would never die.
But now you’re gone and here I sadly sigh

That love itself remains without your form
Yet tears of loss enfold me like a storm.
I knew you’d never hurt or  do me harm.
I  felt your smile’s embrace, so wide, so warm.

How is the world,now emptied of your being?
No sound,no touch,no smell,no sight,no seeing.
How is the world when you have gone ahead
Yet I must linger in my lonely bed?

Some days I weep with gladness for my friends
Some days I weep in sadness without end.

My heart is like a rowing boat adrift

My heart is like a rowing boat adrift
Whose occupant has fallen overboard
The empty vessel drifts through deep sea mist.
And in those pearl filled ears the deep sea roars.
Just as the boat drifts mapless,so do I.
My maps were drawn for quite another sea
My captain’s taken leave and now I cry
As if that drowned soul might just be me.
Yet on the sea bed mysteries abound;
Such wonders and such magic there displayed.
I wonder if it is my lot drown
And to a memory then quickly fade.
Maps are no more certainties than hints.
Between the lines hides gold from other mints.

No holy spirit’s sold in our great Malls

  • In honouring our dead we lay their ghosts.
    We look again from human need and pain.
    Which one has loved,which one has hurt the most?

    Forgive and let no bitterness remain.

    For them,the humble, no portraits were made,
    Just word pictures which fade back in the mind.
    Kings and lords paid artists, yet forbade
    The showing of cruel lips and eyes unkind

    Yet even they are trodden underfoot
    Their gold protected virtue not at all.
    The soul is made from feelings which don’t rot,
    No holy spirit’s sold in our great Malls.

    We must speak and love in this moment .
    And look on all with glad-eyed,warm intent