Life

You are life to me each morning as i compose a poem from a tear. Life is a teardrop on a young girl's face Sometimes wellies plashing in puddle. So a teardrop and a puddle what then as each passing year? A leaf a stick a blossom floating in a stream Life becomes a nice warm reverie a bathtub or a shower and wondrous stream In the steamed up window I would draw you as you lay down in your tub of course writing there 'I love you' a trickling drop slide downward from above You are every wetness that I have ever known my own self swimming in St Ives sweet sunny sea Every dewdrop on each bud or flowers You are very life to me I got you pumping through my own blood The realer currency the currency of hearts beating air fuelled lungs extracting goodness from the morning or the evening air our hearts beating constantly you are moistening your bed sheets from the pores of all you are Life is the vast ocean we're both star fish and we're stars Snow is melting on the mountains to bring reservoirs of purity to you and I Even purer than the drizzle mist a spilling tenderly from yon sky I long to lay with you in heather though we both wake up all wet I want to feel warm rain rush over both of us God will shelter us from all repression and regret There's a lake where all is mirrored but all I want to view is you as you bathe yourself upon the shore I hold a sunny towel ready there for you Then we head off to our shelter there is washing on the line let it get rinsed with mountain shower as we step in and with stick n logs we make a lovely fire we smell the wood smoke sap a blazing like the joy it is to be alive. Everybody sleeping safe n warm inside the stories written by the lovely countryside And no need for any hidden just the clarity of us we love life and all its season we're at one with all the buzz. The wood the clay the earth n seeds we're 'makers of good grace' we see god surrounding everything and we feel Love's features in our won sweet mirrored face Good morning my sweet lover good morning my good friend there is a love that lasts for ever as we begin for each other again to sow the seeds of hopefulness and kindness to all around and water the sweet patch of strawberries and Victorian sink of seedlings Your very self my hallowed ground may innocence be ours and may we keep sweet company I love to see you fly about and sometimes land upon my knee Thankyou darling hold me till the very end of time and back again as we continue life of images and rhyme just like HOLY bread and wine Amen

The paper I truly believe in

I really feel the future resides in all women particularly mothers of man. Beyond art and science and all man's engineering are qualities I accept as transcending the violence of men. In true politic of advancement is the stoic caress of sincere nest builders sustainers despite storm and daily challenge and pain. I used to think the 'aspiration to become human' the real evolution of creature for my good friend Dr Frederick Franck through his writing and kindness and humility did tenderly say I would like to thank all who were my teachers they still are and he would point not to 'religion' but to the WAY life with a little 'l' is each one of us he said whereas Life with a big 'L'goes on. One might say like the song by John Lennon 'imagine' life can be hell or can be heaven Just as the American Indian proverb/parable inside us there are two wolves fighting. On wolf is kind one is cruel which of them wins is to a mother quite simple the one that we feed and make strong I've met a fine girl who brings up four lovely children and yet despite little time for herself realizes the value of self expression meditation and by spending prayer time with the fabric of nature instinctively intuitively with precision and wonder creates and dresses and embroiders with tiny seeds multi direction of fascinating fastidious pleasure the moments of life that flows out of her beautiful self Lady Macbeth is a monster a caricature of the one wolf literature warns against yet the antitheses is Cordelia of King Lear a man who like ALL mankind has been foolish who set such a poor example to Cordelia's sisters The three ugly sisters of children's literature Yet transcendent Cinderellas abound Elizabeth frink Frida Khalo Mother Theresa Florence Nightingale Beatrix Potter Janet Ahlberg J K Rowling Tove Jansson Ruby Wax irene and Astrid-the co authors of Flow magazine The list of mothers is vast genle tender strong an of course endless Think of any boy or man you'll find a mother's encouragement sewing their seams the Bible is wise when in the book of Ruth you see how wise the women in a world of such arrogant man it is in softness humility tenderness and subtle encouragement then how the true Aspiration /evolution for us some day to become 'human' does not come from lady Macbeth but the mother who not only carries life's seed in her soft and warm loving belly but in pain both at birth and throughout each child's life time not only nurtures but present example of how in the proverbs God placed wisdom in the the flowering Eve who instead of seeking applause walked miles to get pitchers of water it irrigate plants offering milk to strangers just like in Steinbecks Grapes of Wrath For its in Agape love found in Shakespeare's Cordelia we see what 'human' might mean once again. Amen Last night I drank a toast to my loved one the girl who makes me feel so alive it was in an Emmma Bridgewater mug containing Gin and Tonic which I feel represent purity and feminitiy for a learned on a bus tour through Liverpool that Gin palaces arose in the land when the water unfit to drink in the common home meant the sacrament Gin shared by poor folk went with their daily bread from the swaet of their labouring hands emma Bridgewater i read would collect old bits of crockery for the thames embankment and the pieces of pattern would encourage her and so eloquently say Go create joy from what you take from the river I always like Nick drake's song called Riverman for I feel Nick meant God but the lore I see the strength of the eversuffering creative girl wife and mother the more I feel the real 'human' is in RIVER MOTHER who is the real river our planted shared seed of outr humble God as mother given 'Hu-man-ity!' I once wrote a song that sought to reverence how I felt about my own kindly mum at the centre of this also my son who would care for his sister a song that I find is about anti bullying there will of course be more of the Goliaths's but the choice of how to contest such as those was not the three ugly sisters but a shepherd attending sheep against wolfs and with simple tools stones fro the river bed and careful aim smote the bully away but David wronged both bathsheba and God when having behaved well he chose not the tender caress buty the military way THE WAY is the way of the valley and the the hope that comes down from on high the land of milk and honey will not come from the ravages of war but from the ploughing of hope and the sowing of seed and the nururing and weeding and the farmhouse kitchen table creativity Every child has indeed always longed for from Laurie lee and Gerald Durrell and D H Lawrence who wisely reverenced the mother Instead of asking for the hand of my bride from a kind father i shall turn to her mother who's hands have fed and tenderly cared for the girl I long to marry That's a little of what my heart this morning so longs to express and hope then to tenderly say.Amen

Imbue

Thus to imbue an object of one's life with meaning is a personal decision Requiring tenderness and sincerity and faith Whether its a vanity unit for a domestic studio or a Belfast sink for determination to make a greater range of products form the field clay and rivers runnning through the fingers of one's life I wore a ring once liken unto Hobbits Platinum a little like white gold shiny like a mirror I could see my own reflection like a millpond. it would often have a little slice of soap beneath I often had to grab it with my teeth from just behind to slide it from my finger the wedding ring that life and hope and love bestowed Taking and in giving is a concert and should not be investement but a listening to the lady and the lord the author god of life itself who made each petal tear and ringing bell that bring the angel's wings of a Wonderful Life James Stewart Clarence and the palmin of Juju's petals to repair the sadness of the child's mind's worries such a film of wonder parable and joy and love Films are imbued with associative meaning they are personal and deeply meaningful and profound My Uncle John who cared for me sand all the songs from Gigi as we traveled on the Paris roads Maurice Chevalier my Uncle John to me and I would sing in my child's mind 'how they gonna keep em down on the farm now that they seem Pareee' To have a faith is to spire to relationship not to selfish profitability exchanges made in kind illustrate the meaning money has for some But kindness needs no payment if you are a sharing caring giver The major role of both daddy and a mum i need less own anything for a twig a puddle mud and leaf provide me paper pen and ink Like genesis page one of the Holy Books of the 66 the route to Jesus Christ's Bible singular one of peace ◄ Genesis 1:29 ► Verse (Click for Chapter) New International Version Then God said, "I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. My brother david and I found friendship he bought twoi for ones for him and I and when we stood in Central Station The police were offering bells to place upon our keys so should a thief attemmpt to steal them we'd hear them ring out we both got some he and i and also on my key ring is a little fob that says keep calm Brother yes life and objects imbue themselves with meaning just as meaning makes one laugh or cry Go watch 'Its a wonderful life' and see how Clarice got some wings i feel David went to heaven fully fledged and flying already let this pull on good heart strings Imbue yourself with kindness be a giver like a daddy and a mum some parents need forgiveness for the things they've said and done My father's hands repaired cars and liked steering wheels and they loved our mother too I have the rings he placed upon her fingers they are bells that bring wings too my heart will ring if another seeks to steal my bride Noone owns noone though of course sad to think of so many relationships ending sadly in divorce meaning requires tenderness of giving not of taking nor neglect Shared spaces and shared hearts are God's alone and Adam and eve must treat the garden of Eden with respect We tread and make love on Holy Ground and our bodies they are Holy Ground too. I long to rest beside my one true love And the marriage bed is growing flower petals just like Juju's repaired and pocketed the broken ones as make a wish lassoo the moon and note the raven in the bank jeremiah fed and watered as the Ark returning rainbow lilies of the field they get considered i tell the truth said jesus be like raven of the air they neither sow nor reap yet they recieve from God the best of care Unless you be a child like one of these said jesus whilst saying do not stop the children from coming unto me You may enter eden everything is eden when you find the words imbued he said with true loving prperties I will fly in and out of windows fro tis no myth this peter pan it has always and is still the gift that God gave since the very earth began. Amen

I am an ocean

Come then dive into my vast ocean there are gallons and gallons of me. So glad the blog page has a nice broad page a blanket I can pour my words onto like all the The wardrobes of memories in me all the colours the bits and the pieces all the flotsam and jetsom and currents astir As i woke in my bed this morning I felt my body an octopus and the sheets the ripples and twist of the gulf stream every river and rain dropping cloud melt of my girlfriends hair so then I dreamt last night that my neighbours house had a moat of water a gathering and for a moment i was concerned lest their foundations got under mined like shoes n boots that let in the puddles of rain but i have such a resilient articulate gift for discerning what is dream and what belongs to what my parents suggested to the child of my earliness as o jimmy pay it no mind from a vast and ever growing pieces of garments and fabrics a patchwork it forms on the miles of white beach you were feeling like hiding neath a stone and I can understand that when the sun gets so bright and your colour wants to remain vibrandt and doesn't want to be so exposed to the whitening bleach the beach offers miles of potential I would use it with parasols placed all along neath one needles n thread and rolls and ripples of mighty find cloth perhaps the next will have blocks and just white lengths and upon them we print out the blocks we have put our ideas on the next has musicians a playing yet we can any time we wish have the whole beach to ourselves we can wash our naked or clothed bodies in saltiness or neath a waterfall unsalt both ourselves hosepipes of water to have fun and do squirty things jackson Pollocks of invisible ink clearing the vast beach its a canvas I makes paper in trays of water and leave frames of moist paper to dry in the sun we can add things or see the virginal pulp that later on will invite colour and ink mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i'm not frightened I have such a restful and courteous body to rest in this had been both beach and blotting paper and all will be well in me there is a vast beach and a vast ocean a vast sky and a slow pumping heart that says all will be well now the storm is passed over and when you swim there isn't as storm just a warm fire in a cave of warm imagination rest in its harbour made for a well wrapped up body with legs arms head tum and neck n ankles there are books bonfires tenderness and as you rest gently un think I will paint all the chosen fragments of meaning I gather like making breakfast from well chosen dreams you can see me unsee me recall and reveal me I am both a well and so well for each thought is so gentle my mind bed's a good place to lay down in goodness caressed by hands that are artist hands who feel out the wonder the niggles and tingles and thrill to the joy of you so well arranged and proportioned both yourself and your author and I trust your/their instincts. One day you will swim and I then your ocean one day my ocean and me the small fish together we paddle in wonderful sand n warm oceans of hope and we waken to rest and let go no longer subject to things we just don't and cannot and yet n need not understand In the vast patchwork of cloth clothing and fabric

i return to write down the gentle art of accepting

First thing I need then to recall and remember Is that I belong to myself and my God And I am loved here where I am and that I matter And accept there's a pathway I've trod Sitting here in a room full of wonder Though an inner critic a cynic might say That it looks to untidy and somewhat confusing yet its is fused in its own special way yes this nest where my body's been moving has been spilled thrilled and tide spilling born Just occured toi me now there's a word most interesting 'Tidily'.....tidies up Must mean when we put up shelves and compartmentalize so many bits of our selves We are the tide itself and all of our flotsam and jetsam Are being tossed by the energetic waves that spill out of our turmoil and current and flow of God's wealth mmmm some talk of bucket lists and those unwritten goals that we may yet turn into our life's shopping list a house holiday a husband or wife and our children a car skiing sailing exhibition top selling book lovely meal or various identities into which we might fit I have been graduate student husband and various kinds of a artist a muralist embroiderer illustrator sculptor of clay printmaker in screen etching plate wood engraver lino cutter and mono printer canvas portrait landscape portrait abstract acrylics on and watercolours painted on wood cloth and paper oils on panel mural in emulsions chef baker vegetarian baker and salt dough maker a life of bucket lists and collages and pulped and layered paper mache

I've been a friend and myself been befriended life goes on or it doesn't it stops sometimes we have lots of pennies and sometimes we pause before we set off to the shops there are consequences from every decision and we all dream of meeting someone who can take all the hurts and make all of life's fears go away I believe we watch films read books and magazines and we all study each other to both conform and be different sometimes we feel better being accepted and yet sometimes the 'norm' suggest we must nevertheless be completely unique in some way the dance of the ying yanging tide like tsunami spills out ideas to such children as I Of course we all need some tender applause and seek caring company without which just look you'll find tears there in everyone's eyes I own nothing the tide spills around me I accept that this room looks to some then a mess I accept I am fool and both genius and still but a child that a lovely young girl recently gave such hope and such tender caress

I accept i wioll find this to do maybe but maybe not tidy should the tide in me choose to spill into boxes and lists and alphabetically coded library versions of all of those worn out and tried on layers of meaningful selves I have tried out find comfort in and gratefully worn when I go out with no real intention of drawing i see something so very beautiful in the fragmented tatty selves of the old and the young whose waves both inside and outside of have tossed them th drawings I make say look at you I'm so glad you were born

not just then as old/young /gifted Jimmy's life models but that the pencils pens itch in these fine hands of my caress are both God's crucified loving father's tender tear scooping hands at life's fountain do I accept you as kind gfst o yes i do ever so yes do i love the girl who has come and understood me do I care how things will be for her I do must i live my life alone and so so sad here without her you are all out there sotling with all life's tidal sweeps and interventions only the right wind and tiller within you will ensure God brings me and you to me i feel the fabric of you flotsam jetsam n fine fallen petals make one flower angel faery and canvas watercolour sky and head us both to a future of mutual caring where er you are i feel already married to you I accept we'll get tired be conformed to lifes pathways I accept we'll often be left with trinkets n twigs n petal and few bunches of flowers at all but on those few wondrous occasions we'll sit down for meals and we'll picnic in storms for we are rich in ways none may not see as we walk on life's shore and until God herself gets lonely and wants to draw both of us with those crucified fingers that tenderly seek to restore the petals back to her tenderest rose we will fell the pieces of flotsam and jetsam and draw God's tears in everyone's faces they are our tears though on other cheeks we see as mirrors traced by petals n pencils n soft water colours on to the tender retinas n hearts of a movie that's ours amen

everyone matters

its important to let everyone matters even those that do hurt us do too jesus said forgive them for they know not what they do if you yourself were not a small piece of sacrament bread from the one bread were not a grape from the vine become water and wine then how would your value be salty andunderstand this sad song? You matter and so do the ones that have hurt you they did not know just what they do Nothing is going to be wasted that God tenderly nurtured corrected and put back the one pathway through the garden put down the 'horror scope' ' for they are fiction and do NOT never could or have seal(ed) your fate that's twixt you and a generous artist sculptor animator scientist genius both male /female/totally 'other' author not limited by man's manipulative schemes FORGIVENESS so vast tis an ocean yet one need not return for more hurt and you won't make the same mistakes twice if you look heavenward and take on much more compassionate values like that of forgive n forget n move forward learning to trust in the LORD LADY author of everyone's hearts not just their's amen

Whilst

I love the word 'whilst' and how it invites represents and gentle nudges the world's fabulous simultaneity and mais ouis but of course multi tasking for we all breathe n dream as we sleep eat smile gaze as we eat drive using one hand for the wheel two feet for the speed as our eyes scan the road and the mirror and reflect all the time on the long journeys all of the time so bonjour tout le monde good mnorning to all of the world 'whilst I have been typing this I have bee listening feeling and my feet touching the rag rug and my ears hear the milk float go bye whilst youv'e been reading this rhyme you have been feeling its beat whilst your heart beating so then has mine so how sweet and how neat whilst wearing your pants n licking your lips taste the world's salt beneath all our house and clothes all the adams n eveses still naked neath fig leaves and sharing the simultaneous sap oozing up through God's weel ropoted vine and I will say it again go read you psalm one plant yoiurself where ther water still turns streams into wine and the feats of the marriages of heart soul body earth water and creatio ex nihilo will show you there's is no such thing as 'dirt' tis living soil growing nurturing whilst offereing sand neath our feet whilst our toes seek to meet halelujah for whiling away whils t the birds bees n sea tide are breathing in shared air whilst bathwater runs to wash all of those bottoms boobs tums of babes dads n mums whilst stiff upper lipped politicians seek maintain status quo and decorum well all i can say come back to reality and a gentler humanity cehz mois au chez vous that is to say your place or mine neither really for whilst thinking like this it is our author's page pen and of course so is the law's real rhythms n rhymes transcend so much stuff tis all leaves n petals to play with we must find a warm river and flow there together whilst our clothes sort of jumble together like a collage with daisies n socks pebbles leafves and joggled off shoes whiolst whilst whilst whilst is a gentle whispy breath as the fibres mutually caress the world gets back to Eden to gardens n gifts whilst not knowing so much oft not feeling the touch of shrill wondrous electricity buzzing n fragrantly seeping n oozing synapses tongues words n flutter by humming birds of paradise us we are fantastic yet extra ordinary whilst well you get the gist please continue on through you day eat it for breakfast for all is neither then yours nor then is it mine