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

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


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


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


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,
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


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

Oh,sweeter than confectionery

Tecophilaea cyanocrocus Leightlinii_15-6 [1024x768]

Photo courtesy of Mike Flemming 2015.Copyright

Inside my mind I dream of gleaming pearls,
Caterpillars,snails with  swirling whorls.
I dream contented, all enwrapped;
With reverie and dream I’m lapped.
The inner seas will comfort me,
While gods open my eyes to see

Oh,sweeter than confectionery
Is my old   school dictionary.
The words whirl round and fall to shape
The sentences which my world make.
This furnishing is rich and strange
And magically self arranged.

Oh,sweeter than the love of man
Is reading works of poets long gone.
And feeling deeply their dark tides .
Upon which our boat may glide.
The sea infinite we float upon
Is the same warm sea the ancients swam..

Sweeter still is this spring air
And the blossom spreading fair.
We’ll drown our selves in grassy field
To the gods of poetry yield.
We’ll rise again and spring up tall
To grow more rich until we fall.

A heart adrift

My heart is like a rowing boat adrift
Whose occupant has fallen overboard
The empty vessel drifts through deep sea mist.
And in his 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 the drowned soul might just be me.

Yet on the sea bed mysteries abound;
Such wonders and such magic there displayed.
Yet I wonder if  it is my  fate to drown
And to a memory I’ll  slowly fade.

Maps are no more certainties than hints.
Between the lines lies gold from other mints

Iambic tantrumia

  • He said,iamb not myself today
    You seemed unaware,
    The anapest will soon come in
    You seem not to care.
    The trochee sang
    The dactyls rang
    Fry gave them a glare.
    For spondee-licious he was not
    Neither here nor there;
    He said again,iamb he you seek
    Here and everywhere.
    A pyrrhic victory for rules
    Slang for souls with flair.
    Ic pentameters dare

Useful terror

If the surgeons kept their hearts
On plates of ruined silver
exposed to inclement weather
and the nameless god who wills there,
we’d see fewer errors
but far more useful terror
for they think they are free from gorgons
eyeballing their organs
and do not see the crater
when it’s now but never later;
climb the distant rock wall
until sweet soundless night falls;
if they kept their hearts connected
while we humans were dissected
we’d have a chance of healing
if they touched our skin with feeling,
but they like pure gold and silver,
stone and marble windows
women dressed in satin
and name tags writ in latin
everything is solid,
you think that evl’s squalid.
Yet you touch me with your human,human hand

Geese by Mary Oliver

dandelion 3

Mary Oliver is a favourite of mine.
She rarely gives interviews


You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Murderous 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
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

Keep a little space for grace

cyclamen black

Well,it was the end of a beautiful relationship,

My cat left home to go to college.

I asked her to study via the Open University,

But she wants to go to Night School.

I can see the attraction,

Or should I say,I would have done when younger.

My nights are filled with dreams

I dreamed someone cooked me a lovely meal.

How do you  interpret that?

You don’t interpret?

Sorry for asking as a refusal often offends,

That’s why I never got married.

Life is a question of balance,

Or is it proportion?

Whatever.You know what I mean.

What do I mean?

Well,one must keep things in perspective

And always keep the vanishing pointin mind.

Look out for the lost,

And don’t forget the shadows

Including your own.

Try to get good quality materials,

Or the best you can afford.

Learn how to listen,

Don’t stare too long into an other’s eyes.

Keep your finger nails clean

And always wear sunscreen.

Except  in bed,of course.

Is there a spouse screen to protect one

From encroachment?

Loss of self may be gradual,

Or you may never have had a self.

That can happen now and then.

Keep you spaces empty

so grace can enter you

And you can put up visitors.

Grace may visit you more

If you listen with your eyes.

That’s what I found anyway

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