Art by Katherine

Fried frogs on a bed of lice with free desert and Bedouin prisoner
Scottish moles and salad with hot flatbread from Gaza & strip
English Enema with free water and wafers and Syrian Refugee
Welsh Wrabbit grilled on West Bank of Thames plus Binoculars and Gun
Scottish Sausage with alimony tossed in lemon juice and oil
HP Sauce on Macaroni in butter with Russian Cheesefake
Fried Fish with chip on boulder of Galilee with boat
German Green Goose with mesh of potato free to engage
Grumbling Grand Gorse with spikes and dressing and free Baptism
Spanish Hamlet with chunky chips and a pack of cards with Joker
Linear Equations of Spaghetti with photo of salad Macbeth
Matrix of Pasta in green gauze with free wound and needle
Hindu Blessing and free food for all who smile
Cherry Tree blessed by God plus Rice and Nuts and free Tea
Irish plight and potato free to all

https://www.sparknotes.com/shakespeare/hamlet/quotes/page/5/

Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,—
The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,—puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action

Hennetwistle has a railway stop
The name is Viking now it’s usually spelled
Entwistle, where reservoirs fill up
Manchester wants water, here it’s held

Too Thirlmere is an artificial lake
For tea in Manchester, those thirsty folk
How much more d’ye think that they will take?
Hamlets drowned, dull cypress trees that cloak

I once passed through Darwen on a train
On the way to Ilkley with my aunt
No memory of bliss with me remains
Except the flowers so wild, their ghosts still haunt

Yet nowhere else gives me the feel of home
This landscape is my body and my soul

There was an old lady from Chester.

Who did not allow wounds to fester

When stung by a bee.

She charged it a fee.

So now all the insects detest her

This lady was said to be bright. 

So we used to meet up in the night 

She was no use to me 

For I could not see. 

So I gave her away for a light .

Although I had tried to be free 

She had a deep tie just to me 

I tried to back out 

I was right, have no doubt

But she tormented me with trained fleas

I suppose it is guilt that destroys

Without any sign or much noise.

We lose our own souls

We’re no longer whole

This makes me feel ultra annoyed .

Kindness is not always best

The world is designed as a test .

God will mark it at night

To our mind’s  great delight

When do we get a right rest?

Eternal the rest may not be.

I always long to be free

Eternity’s  short

That’s not what we’re taught

From lessons and lectures I flee 

When we get to the end of the road 

The fountain will have overflowed. The road will be wet.

Goodbye etiquette

Poor poetry is always a goad

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2022/sep/01/every-time-i-write-its-like-the-first-time-joyce-carol-oates-on-her-61-novels-twitter-storms-and-widowhood?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

Musing

A man who fond of lemons is
Cares not how he gives a kiss.
‘T is a proof that he would rather
Have a lemon than a lover.

A child who never was embraced
Will not marry in much haste.
It’s a hint that she would, maybe
Be afraid to have a baby

.A heart which mean with kindness is,
Will rarely feel true friendship’s bliss.
‘T is a proof that some would rather
Be correct than be a lover

A student who so clever was
Cannot match the wit of God
Tis a proof that she would rather
Be unknown than be a saviour

Main course

Codswallop in batter with nude potatoes and peas
Roast teeth and Yorkshire pudding with speaking broccoli
Rascal’s Lamb with Hint Sauce
Lasagne with chips,tea bread and butter thrown in.
Corned beef smash and cabbage
Beef stewed in Wales with French Bread and roast tomatoes

Pudding

Roly poly jam with steamed air.
Lemons on mice.
Oranges sliced and baked in a stone dish with marmite [You keep the dish]
Full flat yoghurt with fruit of the day
Christmas Cake pudding and bustards
Minced lies and branded nutter

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/life/could-talking-anxiety-make-worse/

One woman wrote, I don’t want to read a poem I want to know what you are doing, who you see, what you eat.

So far I’ve not been inclined to share those things.Possibly it might be boring:

I had my usual Weetabix for breakfast before heading to my usual coffee shop for coffee.I then entered Ryman’s and bought 20 ball point pens and a box of A4 paper .It was so heavy I ended up in A and E with my usual slipped disc.I came home for my usual bread and cheese and made my usual complaint to the Royal Mail as my five new bras have not been delivered despite me paying for tracked delivery. OMG I can see the dog is wearing the red one! So the dog has signed for them.

Is the postman blind, am I a dandelion?

I made my usual pot of tea and took some pot with it for a change from codeine.This is all a lie.

I can’t bare this pain any longer..

Will why not keep quiet?..

Does Andy Burnham need reigning in?

No he’s raining already.

Every silver lining has a cloud of unknowing

She wore a pencil skirt but where should she put the eraser?.

How many pencils does it take to make one skirt?.

Do two pencil skirts give a woman flair 

Men might stir!

Double double

Oil and Stubble

The ocean for beginners.

• Stan was wearing his best suit,topped by a denim apron, and wad polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth ,as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife
  .Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.
  On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,
  “I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
  “That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.
  “Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”
  “Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
  “Of course you may, my angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
  “I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”
  Suddenly the doorbell rang.
  ”Who’s this?”
  It was Annie,their next door neighbour.
  She was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat.
  “Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates.
  “Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not
  going on your bike,are you?”
  “No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
  “Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
  Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
  “Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
  On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.
  So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.~
  If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
  Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.
  “There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,
  “Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
  Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting
  “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
  “Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
  “I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…
  All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?”
  “No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
  “I mean for a pudding?”
  “Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
  “Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my mea.?”
  He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
  “Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
  “Oh,Stan,this looks interesting .I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
  “It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.
  “Whatever do you mean?”
  “I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
  “Yes, quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
  “Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
  “Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
  “Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
  “Je ne parle pas Francais.”
  “Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”
  “Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
  Ist sein mutter immer krank?”
  Lehitraot, auf weidersehen,au revoir,
  Je suis un parallel line

Evoking the beauty, the stars so far away,
I like to watch geese at the end of day.
Patterns and poems disclose other worlds.
Feel the hand of a baby with the fingers all curled

See the trust and the smile when the mother is home,
To create entire worlds for the one she has borne.
For chaos and panic are not far away
Even in adults who don’t care to say.

The little hands touch me so deeply, so well;
How come the world is diving to hell?
How can we kill little wains by the score
Was it for this that I opened your door?

Was it for this that love electrified us,
And we were lost in each other, in the holy white dove.
Was it for war that we gave love our wombs
Making more soldiers and filling more tombs?

The bombs are a-loading they’re having parades.
It’s not North Korea, it’s Washington, dude.
Let the tanks roll on Corrie and the Bedouin tribes.
Let the allies laugh blindly as the Lord Jesus dies.

O take me, dear mother.Please take me away
I can’t see no point in saying my prayers.
The leaders’ religions are making God frown.
The desert is empty, the tents all dragged down.

The centuries of living so free , so mobile;
The holy land blessing as they pause for while.
The little black tents like wombs of the night
Are all gone to shredders as we sing, Silent Night.

https://www.theguardian.com/travel/2026/jul/20/canterbury-pilgrims-walk-cathedral-to-dover-kent?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

Put radiant serum on my face;

My nails need varnish like this chair

Right now they are a deep disgrace.

My feet are hidden by my boots.

I washed my neck and cleaned my teeth.

The cat is here and torments me

He wants to go to Hampstead Heath

Like men he doesn’t understand

Being female  makes demands.

Yet also, on the other hand,

I could change gender by command.

Then I could cut  all my hair off

Go to bed , be cleanserless.

Look awful when I’m feeling rough

Get praised for signs of tenderness.

Yet I would have to compete then

And fight off lots of other men.

And being shy is tough as when

A woman ignores you and your pen.

And even if one succumbs to charm

And lies all beauteous in your arms

You must be careful to keep calm

Seem manful when you feel alarm,

If  she’s  had lovers  forty six,

Does she expect you’ll know their tricks?

Or will   you find that you just click

All she wants is a face lick.

For you can cleanse her make up off

Is it poison, is it tough?

Look at her big powder puff.

Don’t inhale,it isn’t  snuff.

The strangeness of this form of verse

While it helps one to converse

It’s hard to end when it gets worse

And hence I must be very terse.

There’s an alien in my garden

Something has grownwithout my permission

It’s a cherry tree although it may call itself an asylum seeker

Or maybe a refugee

There’s an alien in my garden but it can’t be blamed. Because someone threw down a seed which found the soil perfect

And what should a seed do?

I think we need to bring in the idea of abortion..

Nothing should grow without human permission

Death should be more important than life. 

Death should be the main thing..here’s an alien in my garden but I might like it. Am I allowed this pleasure? had better abort it

Abortion should be the main thing not life..

Then we can live in the deserts of our hearts

We had better make the garden  safe by filling it with mines.

Then we’ll all die and that will be an end to asylum seekers and heroes and seeds growing where they choose

You can’t help feeling that we love death more than life

There are  few free places left where the human race is not meddling.

Where Grace might be found

Getting a new prime minister might help

No on second thoughts just abort kill

A pencil skirt is  ambiguous to wear,
If you look good,  then men’s eyes wander where?
And if obese then love handles  distract
With critical review  folk’s eyes are stacked.

An elastic waist is frowned on though it’s kind.
And frees one from  the body to the  mind.
Trousers too have perils of their own,
When buttocks are like  oranges  not  bones

A maxi dress may  be a perfect choice
If you’re  rich and  drive a  big Rolls Royce.
But if on public transport you must move
Take care, the hem may catch in some stray groove.

Isadora Duncan wore long  scarves and  wraps
And so by accident,  her death was mapped
I guess you might  as well wear   apple  peel.
For if you’re stout, it grants a strange appeal.

But if your friends and neighbours   ever moan
Wear a trench-coat  of the colour stone
For if  it   rains you will be well prepared;
And if the sun  shines, you  can soon be bared.

 

Againstvsadness:

no-one here can weep
Nor lounge about in melancholy deep
Was Van Gogh senseless to permit his muse.
For his masterpieces ,was the price too steep?
We see the yellow chair but not his views
Nor his mind where technique made such leaps.
Nor was his journey broadcast on the news.
Against sadness.

Happiness or joy is hard to find
When we rest, the News preys on our minds
Yet some are cold towards the slaughtered priest
His nose a beak of bone in old face lined
Now Muslims go to Mass and join Christ’s feast
Against sadness.

What rages in the mind make men kill thus?
In many wars the innocents fare worse.
But these are our near neighbours so we weep
And wonder how to end the frightening curse
The sins we once committed hold us deep
We hold our hands out wanting to be nursed
Against sadness

Against Self-Criticism: Adam Phillips on How Our Internal Critics Enslave Us, the Stockholm Syndrome of the Superego, and the Power of Multiple Interpretations – The Marginalian https://share.google/tI5l7QsJR3CksCPL9

1 Do not stop your car to read this sign. 2. If you can’t read this sign get your eyes tested~unless you are illiterate 3 This sign is not here till further notice 4.This sign is here but don’t look at it 5.This sign was paid for with your council tax 6 This sign is not an omen.Evil is already here 7 Criminals reading this sign, please call the police 8 There are no signs till the other side if Hardnot Pass.Good luck 9 Please do not touch this sign unless it is in braille 10.If you can’t read this sign, phone 999. 11 Don’t read this unless there is a traffic jam 12 Signs washed daily by hand.Do not report as garbage 13 Thank you for respecting our signs. 14 Please do not fall off the pavement

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2026/jul/17/andrew-motion-wilfred-owen-became-a-kind-of-sacred-text-for-me?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

https://theconversation.com/why-pope-leos-visit-to-lampedusa-matters-for-migrants-the-church-and-global-politics-286732

← I wonder who thinks calculus is part of geomorphology? Topology, a branch of mathematics, is sometimes called rubber sheet geometry. It’s a sad world when mathematicians have to study the sheets of those of us who have leaky bladders. However, if Tracy Emin’s bed is a work of art it extends the possibilities for scientists and mathematicians.And this needed because with all academics having to publish very frequently they might run out of topics. So we might have a study of duvets and the different shapes they might assume when they are covering just one person, two people, three people and since we are mathematicians, we could study their shapes when covering an infinite number of people. Alternatively how about the effect of one person being covered by an infinite number of duvets? Would it be aleph-null the infinity of the rational numbers or aleph 0ne [the infinity of the real numbers]? Aleph one is the bigger of the two . Aleph is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet… and it is used because mathematicians already have used up the Greek alphabet. So now we use the Hebrew one which is slightly different. If you learned calculus you will recall all those delta x’s and delta y’s. This makes me think calculus is part of geomorphology and I do believe that geomorphology which studies the surface of the earth is linked to the love and study of the mother’s face and body by human infants. So calculus is linked to the studied love of babies.Can it be that if you had a disturbed infancy you will find mathematics very hard? Plastic geometry and plastic surgery will be dealt with later but obviously again it is linked to love or hate of the body though our bodies are not usually made from plastic but who knows the future?

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/jul/13/disability-benefits-why-we-shouldnt-call-it-welfare?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

And looking at the world with gratefulness

The dead flowers in the vase have their own charm
They have their form, their shape, their wistfulness
What is dead no longer does us harm

Thus being dead is no cause for alarm
There is no need to suffer loneliness
The dead flowers in the vase have their own charm

As they age, they look like a dead palm
The sort we got in church had comeliness
What is dead no longer does us harm

The secret of good lives is keeping calm
And looking at the world with gratefulness
The dead flowers in the vase have their own charm

Meditation on dead flowers is balm
We fear no longer our own death’s fullness
What is dead no longer does us harm

Waste not time in hateful wilfulness
We sing with love our own dawn choruses
The dead flowers in the vase have certain charms
What is dead no longer may alarm