Poems By Mary

Dust particles ‘ are the basis of solid matter ‘ 

Fine grains of this ‘ can irritate those who

are perfectionists’ 

Any flat surface with a grain of dust ‘ lying dormant ‘ 

Caught in the beam of the rays of the sun’

The house unclean ‘ if allowed to settle 

The miner who enters the pit shaft ‘ into its dark interior ‘ with only his headlamp to guide his way ‘ towards the rich seams of coal ‘

at the close of his shift ‘ the miner makes his way to the surface ‘ 

In the dawn of a new day ‘ he is covered in a mantle of coal dust ‘ 

a pair of eyes ‘ glinting in the light of day ‘ he signs off ‘ his shift over ‘ now heading for home ‘

A hot tub ‘ plenty of soap and hot water ‘ 

On the sands of the desert’  dry and dusty ‘ caught in a storm ‘ with the dust particles creating ‘ an inhospitable environment ‘ 

A row over who’s turn it is ‘ to wash the dishes’ 

The remains of a party ‘ lying limp and forlorn ‘

when the party is over ‘ in the break of the early morning sun ‘ 

A dust - up ‘ not my turn to clean up the mess ‘

tired and weary’ eyes bleary ‘ the one left behind ‘ collects all the rubbish ‘ the left-overs ‘ the half - eaten food ‘ into a bag ‘ 

thankful of the dustbin ‘ out in the backyard ‘

The pioneer ‘ who sits on his wagon ‘ urging the horses ‘ to make haste ‘ 

a rumour of rich seams of gold ‘ rivers flowing ‘ with gold-dust ‘ a fortune awaits ‘ over the plains ‘ the hooves of the horses ‘ the wheels of the wagons ‘ the sands of the desert’ 

not all plain sailing ‘ kicking up dust ‘ 

the gold - mines’ all that glitters is not gold  ‘ not all gold- dust panned in the river ‘ when the dust settles ‘ turns into despair ‘ until one espies grains of solid particles ‘ the dream of the pioneer ‘ a future secure 

A storm building up ‘ on its journey’ can rip up trees from its roots ‘ a house giving a haven ‘ with slates of the roof ‘ taking off ‘ leaving destruction behind ‘ 

There is an old adage ‘ that brings comfort to us all ‘

Wait until the dust settles ‘ and settle it does ‘ 

Mary G. Douglas 

We enter this world with a rage within us
To be so bold to venture forth
Our demands must be met
We know not why?
Nature has created a natural force within
Survive we must
Our first entanglement with taking for granted
Our voice will be heard, our needs will be met
Out in the wilderness the cry unheard
Within the confines of the civilised world
Our voice may be heard , our needs unmet
Such is the parable of life
The assumption of nature that we will be nourished
Have all that we crave our natural right?
Survival of the fittest
The natural jungle has an abundance of food
The means to grow in stature
Yet lurking within
That which can lay asunder
The plant that survives by poisoning its foe
Nature and nurture stand side by side
Our first cry when we enter this world
Might be our last if not heard
The conundrum a play on words
Is never to assume or presume that our survival is guaranteed
Childhood is an apprenticeship
We hone our skills according to the tools given
Roof over our head with clothes on our back and food in our belly
A precursor to survival of the fittest
I need l want l must have is the cry of the selfish
I need l want l must work for is the cry of the jungle of life
Chance is two sided
The expected outcome of the cards dealt us
with the throw of a dice can lay asunder
All is lost if the wrong throw is made
Have we within us? the strengths to fall and rise again ?
Indeed we do if look at the plus and the minus
Never assume and never presume
Is the mantra
One day at a time having the strength within
No miracle cure to all ills
The solution within us all to search for
The answer found by not looking for a miracle
The unexpected can lead to the road out of adversity
The ticket bought that wins a prize
The idle glance of an advert looking for an applicant
The beginning of a life with prospects
The Surgeon who advises his patient
I can save you
The trust within believes and is rewarded
The ear that is only listening within
The eye that only sees what it wants to believe
no growth in stature
The mind of the person or situation
building bricks can be the making of a grand dwelling
sturdy and true against the elements that nature can destroy with a vengeance
If build rocks of knowledge gleaned from one’s need for survival from within to without
Listening and learning from others and our understanding of the world we inhabit
Out there beyond our front door
The world is not going to give you all you desire
The world will give you what you need
A roof over one’s head with clothes on one’s back and food in one ‘s belly
On acceptance of the need to build rocks of knowledge
Listening and Learning and Understanding that World out there does not owe us survival as the rage within us
The cry of the child within us
Not always heard when sitting with head in our hands
Yet there is a voice?
The implicit and explicit of thought
Lifting head high with hands held aloft
I am more than l am sitting here in gloom and despair
Never assume and presume
All can be resolved by a desire to overcome
The world out there beyond ourselves is a world that can give us hope
All is not lost if one looks at diversity to be conquered
The answer lies within us
Never assume nor presume as it can trip the high and the mighty
Humility is within to know and accept that we are not independent we are all interdependent
I need you and you need me to work together
as after a fall breaking one’s inability to stand straight and true
The hand stretched out to offer help may not be suffice
We all need one another to build a future for all at home and abroad
Centuries come and centuries go
Assume and presume can trip us all
Not just the high and mighty who can only see who is in the mirror
It is for those of us on the road we travel
To look behind to look ahead and beyond what we see
When looking in a mirror
Adopting the attitude on the basis of arrogance within
Never assume and never presume
Mary G. Douglas

What happened to common decency and of chivalry to have the guts to stand up to be counted
When faced with the consequences of their actions
Without regard or respect for others they meet or know
The Practice of Ghosting now appears to be the norm
A letter of condolence with the expectation of a reply
The chance meeting of another when on a night out
The Pub or the Club where those who frequent
Hoping to meet their friends and colleagues acquainted with others past and future meeting again soon planned
Contacts shared of emails and through social media
Only to be met with silence
Good manners of past generations gone to seed
Ghosting an easy way to not face whatever is troubling
Ghosting unpleasant and disturbing
Heartless and lacking character of those who practice this form of behaviour
Cowardly and borderline cruelty of those in today’s society who practice this without being conscious of their cowardly action cause and effect
Ghosting an unpleasant experience
ending all contact that been made for good reason
An explanation of why?
When naught or not is useful to end without explanation
A mythical event unknown of why ?
The youth of today are the middling and older generation of tomorrow
Reflect on one’s own experience?
Too late for mending what did not appear broken
Bridges make for good communication
Linking the lives of those who are in perpetuity?
A young man with a personable personality
Studying at college mechanical engineering
Standing alone in the hub of life of the city
Looking unhappy with Life in general
A chance remark of how cold the night air
Sparked off a conversation stunning the senses
Ghosting was the reason behind his low mood
Discharged out into the streets of Life
Life buzzing with excitement of a new beginning
Training at college going well
Aim to qualify as a Mechanical Engineer
A pleasant mannered young person
Ghosting owing to him being a stranger in a world he does not identity with
The butterfly syndrome now prevalent in Society
Ending all contact without an explanation
Letters ignored: emails deleted : phone number given then not answered by phone or text
All one can give to oneself or another
To shrug off the fact that they are not the same person known from the past
The chance meeting of mind and will to meet again ?
Ghosting a modern phenomenon
Move on with life and be thankful that you are still alive today
Ghosting can debilitate and destroy self esteem and self confidence
Not to allow to be a barrier to self esteem and happiness
Ghosting is an easy route to not face up to whatever is an obstacle
Courage is what courage does
Ghosting not the route taken by those with courage of their convictions
The world does not stop at our own front door
The day will come when one has to open one’s own front door
Mary G. Douglas

Do l know what you are thinking ?
Quick thinking may may save a lifetime of regrets
The gut has the answer more often than not
The brain in our skull to lazy to listen
Life is a journey of joy clipped with episodes of despair
If only l had ?  
If l had have taken a route? a route with pitfalls leading to nowhere
Yet a smooth road uncluttered wide and true
Could be the unmaking of a destiny defining my true vacation
As decade passes the beginning of another
On reflection pointless regretting
If only l had ?
Take five and think if worth musing on the past
Eight decades ago
Born 17th January 1940 WW11 in its infancy
Wreaking Peace
Rationing creating the surfacing of allotments feeding the mouths of families friends and neighbours
The bottle of whisky from under the counter
The tins of salmon under palms uniting with sleight of hand
Children sent on train journeys to the country
Parents grieving over the loss
Fear and trembling of bombs raining down from above
Parents whose approach
If we go we all go if Fate is kind
Grew up with a sense of “ not knowing “
yet with a sense of foreboding of the unknown
Yet as reflecting on childhood memories of the 40’s
The memory of Cod Liver Oil is etched within
A smell and taste that lives on
Whenever l think of the daily ritual
Mouth open wide says Mum
The taste and smell lives on whenever l see or hear the ‘ words spoken’
Cod Liver Oil
Now sold in tablet form
Back in the early Forties not known how ?
If only they had
Mary G. Douglas

Hysteria ‘ the point when one loses control 

Histrionics ‘ the childlike mind ‘ demanding 

a form of control’ the pout ‘ the snarl ‘ 

A face contorted ‘ eyes darkened ‘ the stamp of a foot ‘ high to flat ‘ on a mission 

The height of cheek ‘ formed in the mind ‘ 

no growth of thoughts ‘ ideas ‘ creativity

No expansion for moving onwards and upwards 

No need  for ‘ changing the record ‘ a needle stuck ‘ on promises of change ‘ the operative word 

No need to change the record ‘ playing a tune 

with a haunting ‘ mesmeric sound ‘ 

dulling the senses of the masses ‘ a drip drip drip 

Apologies ‘ in abundance ‘ yet apologising for what ‘ the error of judgement’ long forgotten 

Many a childlike mind ‘ melts the resolve of the masses ‘ whose memory has forgotten ‘ 

the deed : the contrition : the losses of loved ones 

the sleight of hand ‘ the switch of cards on the table 

the switch of the actions ‘ politically

manoeuvred 

time moves the goalposts ‘ noticed by a few 

the distractions of life ‘ diluting memory of errors of political judgement 

Time heals ‘ scarring of the sense of loss ‘ the shock ‘ the denial ‘ the pain numbs the brain 

bereavement of memories of loss ‘ leading to acceptance . 

Loss of direction ‘ unaware of one’s freedoms 

the masking of faces ‘ altering one’s perception of freedom’ reducing the sense of loss ‘ as the ‘ new norm ‘ ???  what was the old’

the March of Time ‘ by stealth ‘ the way of life 

the expectations ‘ limiting horizons ‘ 

Lockdown ‘ the outside world ‘ on the other side of one’s front door 

The wind on our faces ‘ the sun ‘s heat ‘ it’s warmth a comfort ‘ 

The masking of a smile or a greeting ‘ 

eyes contact diminished ‘ averted 

the isolation ‘ the zombie appearance’ 

Fear of the unknown ‘ accepting by us all’

the days ‘ becoming months ‘ two years or more 

the political machine ‘ the aphrodisiac of power 

A political tool ‘ in the hands of ‘ a force to be reckoned with ‘ north of the border 

Stretched ‘ as one can do with the elasticity of Time ‘ fear ‘ reducing ‘ opposition to this force ‘

The loosening grip ‘ north & south of the border ‘ proving with the days ‘ becoming tomorrows ‘ becoming weeks ‘ with no respite politically engineered’ reducing ‘Hope‘ of a future of the ‘ old norm ‘ again becoming reality ‘ and the ‘ political new norm ‘ set in stone ‘ numbing the senses ‘ lowering expectations of  life ‘ beyond the mask ‘ the barrier ‘ disconnecting us all ‘ diminishing us 

Each in a bubble ‘ a wall of silence ‘ acting as buffers ‘ creating in turn ‘ the mental health and physical well-being of a nation north & South of the border .

The political zest ‘ and the zeal for taking the stance ‘ 

The podium ‘ the power of the orator ‘ driving the flow of adrenaline 

The mask ‘ the devising factor ‘ the autonomy 

was this the defining factor ‘ that extended the mandatory decision of its use ‘ 

interesting’ since masks off ‘ the lure of the podium ‘  diminished 

The mask ‘ the barrier ‘ now removed ‘

What is there to speak of’  the public await in anticipation ‘ 

think I will take a bus instead ‘ wheels in motion

No need for a ‘ Selfie 

My face is plastered all over the bus’ 

Let’s pop into a barber’s shop ‘ larking around 

A cheesy grin ‘ fixed in a smile ‘ no need ‘ 

The podium means ‘ changing direction ‘ talking politics 

Climate change ‘ reducing the use of cars on the roads ‘ is it electric??? 

With no electrifying speech on hand ‘ the lure of the podium’ is lessening north & south east & west of all those politicians at home and abroad who think they know best . 

Taking the bus ‘ a holiday on wheels ‘ 

Mary G. Douglas 

The night is still ‘ not a breath of air
The fluttering of the wing swoop of birds
Chasing the scraps thrown out of windows
Nature usurped
Where will this end? Time marches on
Footprints in the sand leave their mark
The random behaviour of the human will
leaving its mark on the hearts and minds of those who reflect in the future of a past
The unseen damage
Nature has its own revenge
The fluidity of movement when scrolling down
all that is gleaned from modern technology
The eyes are the mirror of one’s Soul
Periphery is weakened
The sights and sounds of movement denied
The early morning sprinter
Soft soled shoe shuffle of the desire to keep fit
The slow cumbersome pace of those passing by
The negative and the positive electrifying of what lies ahead
Held head high is the marker of what lies ahead
Eyes down denying the beauty of left and right
The neck giving signs of where the eye is trained
the left or the right elbow ? gives the clue
The hand showing signs of curling of finger and thumb
The inner sanctum within protesting ?
Fluidity of movement at will?
what nature intended
the apple ready for plucking from the tree of life
Out of reach of the finger and thumb
No longer straight and true flexible no more
The mechanics of the human body losing its grip
Head bent with finger and thumb no longer
connecting
eyes down fixated on communication with the unseen
The sights and sounds of what nature intended
The ear only hearing what is being transmitted
Not what is beating to the left and the right
The rude awakening
A broken femur ? Plastered to the hilt
Staring up at another? The anxious face of a loved one staring down
Where am l ?
You were hit by a car coming out of a side road
You did not hear or see on the left when stepping off the pavement
Don’t worry your limb will heal
What then my friend when all is well ?
Striding forth out into the sunshine
Head down? arm bent , hand held forth with finger and thumb
Connecting again with the world at large
Not as nature intended.
Mary G. Douglas