I have to get my hair dyed blonde
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.
Death is better than life

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
Clothes and their problems

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.
Against sadness
Against
sadness:
no-one here can weep
Nor lounge about in melancholy
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
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
Is obedience possible?.

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
Andrew Motion: ‘Wilfred Owen became a kind of sacred text for me’
Why Pope Leo’s visit to Lampedusa matters for migrants, the church and global politics
He is alive
In my dream, I gave birth to a child
The doctor said that he would die quite soon
My feelings overwhelming made me wild
The Nazi doctor threw him on a pile
I lay nearby unmoving as I keened
In my dream,I gave birth to a child
A week passed by,I knew that death beguiled
Frozen lips made no sound, song or tune
My feelings overwhelming made me wild
I had to rise and say my black goodbye.
My baby with the others;horror loomed
In my dream I gave birth to a child
I picked him up , when suddenly he smiled
I held him to my breast, my songs I crooned
My feelings overwhelming drove me wild
I had to carry him, the landscape gloom
A desert grey aand rocky like some moon
In my dream I gave birth to a child
In terror I had walked yet love consoled
Accountable infinity

← 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?
Disability benefits: why we shouldn’t call it ‘welfare’
The dead flowers in the vase have their own charm
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
Waxy flowers in the snow
Waxy flowers poking through
Snow so white
Flowers so bright.
Made me think of you.
I see once more your just washed hair,
Soft as snow,
On pillow.
Now my bed is bleak and bare
,
Face alight,flower to sun,
I loved you.
Love so true.
Fear by love,overcome.
Cyclamen in the snow,
Pink and red,
Now frozen,dead.
Love was,oh,so long ago.
But never gone from in my mind.
Thoughts so deep,
Upwards seep.
Love was gentle,love was kind,
Always in my mind
We learn by love

The pathways to the heart are learned by love
And those who find this knowledge never lose.
Though virtue and her graces help above
All we see are hills and rocky views.
With willingness to cross the seas of mud,
To drag ourselves through tangled briar-filled woods.
Our soul shows us the truth and what is good,
For trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.
With wild flowers kissing feet and blessing toes
Encouragement is finally received
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
We know our gladdened hearts were not deceived.
Fortune favours those with steadfast feet.
The journey may be long, the end is sweet.
Note: The saying “Fortune favours the brave” is attributed to several people..Virgil, Pascal, Montaigne are ones I have found
Love is dying

At the very edge of human sight Places we don’t go till in despair Love is waiting like a golden light The world in panic, will the virus bite
Noone ever said this world is fair At the very edge of human sight
Is there really danger of such might,
Where our hidden fears emerged dark ,bare
Love is fading where’s the sun, the light?
Panic like a virus, can ignite Responses that are worse than germs out there At the very rim of human sight
Our defences that are usually adroit
Now lie like dead young soldiers unrepaired
Love is fading to a weaker light
The still,small voice is quieter than a bird
The storm is passing by, will it be heard?
At the very edge of human sight Love is dying,looks like candlelight
I remember love

Hollyhocks,delphinium and phlox Foxgloves,cat mint, nettles,near by docks
The blind man breathed in air full of wild scent
His daughted named the colours now absent
High up on the Kentish cliffs we sat
Capel-le -Ferne I found it on a map We listened to this girl, we did not speak Absorbing by our senses,proud and meek
Now I recollect the details very well
In those dream like memories I dwell Snapdragons growing just beside my chair
I smell the scent as if I were still there
I may be blinded by the tears of loss
But I remember, love, our happiness
Ready for your stunning second act? The 11 secrets of starting again – from successful late bloomers
A wonderful word is subliminal P
A wonderful word is subliminal
To misuse such a word would be criminal
So never use this word
To say something absurd.
Your punishment won’t be sub-minimal
A possible paradox

I sent an email to my penfriend
Are you ever going to write to me again
He replied
No
Is this a paradox?
When he went away
He went away
Away.
I didn’t know where
where
he had gone
where had he gone?
The call came.:
call came….
Man,white,good health
Has died.
Has died alone
Died alone in an hotel room.
So a stranger would find him.
Man alone;
man alone in hotel room.
there was a man
alone
in his hotel room.
Not wanting to be any trouble.
trouble,no trouble alone
in his hotel room
not his room,you see.
not a shared room…
An hotel room.
Tall man with light brown hair
alone in a small hotel room
with no TV.
We had no smartphones
Smart
Phones
No,don’t tell , not me ,not yet.
Not me.
He was all alone.
He was behind glass
glass walls
windows
a window of glass.
I could never touch him.
I could not touch him.
not touch,no,never,
Man alone.
Solitary man.
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How to keep cool and stay well during hot weather – UK Health Security Agency
BBC News: No air con? Here’s how to get the most out of your electric fan
BBC News – No air con? Here’s how to get the most out of your electric fan https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cly76jlxljlo
Don’t read this sign
1 Do not stop your car to read this sign.Thank you
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 Harald Bluetooth, please call the police.
I’ll be sad
The empty garden makes me feel so sad
I feel I can’t endure the pain of loss
I feel ashamed I fear that I am bad
Who can help me carry this great cross?
Unless our heart is empty what can come?
And yet I am afraid mine will be bare
It is not wise to make emotions numb
And then pretend we do not even care.
If your heart is open love can see
And if it’s closed you are a barren site
Yet dogs that have been kicked are never free
The blind can never see the light
Life is bitter, Life is sweet, Life is a pain.
So I’ll be sad until joy comes again
Does your name matter?

It is a truth totally unacknowledged by human beings that Professor of Linguistics and Word Mismanagement Rosa Benchez hates her own name.It is for this reason, she is keen to get married.Unfortunately ,her only suitor is Charlie Blogge. the well known TV biology expert Does Rosa Blogge sound any better, she asked her friend Amy Panicker. I find it hard to judge ,Amy answered. Ar least it’s not Bloggess. But there is another answer. Rosa and her cat Lucy looked up expectantly. Go on tell us! Change your first name.Have you got any other name besides Rosa? Don’t say Wooden or Iron,I beg you. Rosa looked surprised. In a way that is harder emotionally,she began, because that’s what all my friends and family call me They must have been dim to call you Rosa, Amy cried. Don’t say that.Who wants to be compared to a light bulb? Well ,who wants to be compared to rows of benches? Amy retorted. Well. grandad was called I.Ron Benchez. Rosa shouted.He was from the USA. Thank God ,he is not the President,Amy smiled I think that is stupid.The name of the person has no bearing on how they can lead a government. Well,how about Trump? Is it a real name or did they pick it from knowing the word trump from card games,Amy asked quietly I have no idea,said Rosa.I shall look it up now Wow, you have a new iPhone! Charlie gave it to me,Rosa confessed shyly, blushing dark pink You had better check whether he is tracking you, Amy told her anxiously.You never know what men will do nowadays. But can’t you track folk on Samsungs or Nokia Lumias? said Rosa in her mellow voice. I don’t think it is very romantic to give a lady a smartphone instead of some jewellery,Amy cried. You can sell jewellery but who wants a second-hand iPhone. As a matter of fact ,some old Nokias from the 90’s are now worth a few hundred pounds So if you have one keep it unless your home is already overflowing with collections of pens,watches old newspapers and cats like my friend Percival’s, Rosa retorted. Percival? what is his last name? Joyce.Rosa whispered.He is related to the writer James Joyce. Rosa Joyce…. how does that sound? Well as you know any word you keep repeating begins to sound odd and the same is true of names.Even the nicest name like Katherine With-Doubt begins to sound odd when delivery men ask you for it. Are you with doubt? one had asked her, she told me Who is without doubt? she had replied courteously. Who indeed said the clever Polish doctor working in the UK delivering stuff for Amazing,dot com.He lives round the corner: Thom Without-Doubt Thank God you are not called that. Amy asked Rosa if she could make a pot of tea.They sat in the old orange walled kitchen eating cream crackers and cheese and sipping hot tea. Lucy was eating some cat biscuits and suddenly had a good idea Why don’t you and I swap names, she mewed to Rosa with a loving smile. Do you know,said Rosa, I am so fed up with names I shall change mine to a number if we carry on like this Do you think 678 Benchez sounds any better,giggled Amy. I was thinking more of a name like Platonic form or pyramid How does Platonic Benchez sound. Or Platonic Blogge? And so ask all of us.
She did not deny the darkness was there
Meister Eckhart – The eye with which I see God is the same…
Crown of thorns
I’m now too old to go on dates
I’ve got a partner anyway
He is funny ,he is strong
Like that coffee, can’t go wrong
He don’t mind my hair is white
So is his, so that’s alright
My body aches like Leoard Cohen’s
I have got such Viking bones
My joints are stiff when I awake
My partner, John, makes me barm flakes
He brings me tea,I wash his vest
I’ve forgotten what comes next
He likes puddings, he likes cakes
I don’t buy them for his sake
Diabetes is so cruel
Sugar in the blood’s not cool
Instead we eat bananas dyed
We eat tangerines besides
We eat apples, we eat pears
Lentil cakes of sugar bare
We have cocoa before bed
Never stand on a man’s head
Let him drink his milky way
Then kneel down and say a prayer
Thank Lord God that we have a bed
Thank our God, we are not dead
Tell him life on earth is sad
We keep fighting, that’s no good
Pray for Gazq, pray for peace
Pray for folks with anguished hearts
Mental illness, cruelty, death
Children who are motherless
Those who torture, those who kill
This is clearly not God’s will
Pray that those whose bombs do ill
Notice Jesus on his Hill
Tortured by the human race
He sought the humble not the base
Crown of Thorns that final pain
God may die; can Love remain?








