-
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The clouds roll like giant Catherine wheels.
The sun is shining on my heels.
I am lying down upon the soil,
I slipped upon a patch of oil.I look down into grains of earth,
And suffer from a fit of mirth.
How did I fall down today?
Will my gooseberries ever pay?Though the bush nasty spikes.
They are one fruit I truly like.
I love them baked into a tart..
And I make them for my own sweetheartWhy is there talk of babes born here,
When thorns would fill most folk with fear?
Oh not,this verse is not a poem…
So I’m off,I must be going!Blaise Pascal
In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t.
Blaise Pascal
R -
William Playfair is the first one
Taking it literally
He said,I just wanted to break the ice.
What ice,I said,it’s only September.
So he said,why do you take everything so literally?
I said,why you’ve only known me 3 minutes and you are complaining already!
And by the way it’s unscientific to generalize from one example.
He said,forget science,I love you!
So I said,don’t be so ridiculous.You’re young enough to be my husband.
He said,Hello darling,I know you have trouble finishing your thesis but I am your husband.
So what happened then?
He’s buying me some new glasses.
Will it help?
No,it’s not my eyes it’s my mind.
What’s wrong with your mind?
It has a life of it’s own.
That’s what women want!
A room of one’s own,
A life of one’s own.
A mind of one’s own.
A towel of one’s own.
A hat of one’s own
An emptiness of one’s own,
That is hard….
A problem is just what I need,
To take my mind off being alive.
.
Wisdom or foolishness,it’s all one to me,
Sweep you fringes today….buy a broom stick here…I’m which?
Keep the hinges boiling
Keep your gins up or the tonic will all get drunk..and then what will we do?
Is your quiz done? Or rephrasing myself,Have you any wisdom?
Reap your hair in August.. unless you hear a whirl wind
Keep your toast well buttoned
Weep louder now or cry with me tomorrow.
We are keeping up with our bones..or they may not keep us up
He keeps his nose close to her breasts….makes walking tough,but,hey
you win some,…..My eye keeps on pricking..it’s that damned needle for the partially sighted again….I wondered where I’d left it…..not my best idea
Why kick a duck when you can swim with it?
I shall stick him to the door candle for a few minutes to warm him
I picked a whole flock up.I was real down on my luck with these lice.
Pick me again.Lick me again.I’m coming,ready or not.
Do you always lick the bucket or just on Sundays?
They caught me on High
This coyness lady is no mime
Do you utter ever?
Silence is full
Good sight,sweet wince….you may soon be thrown in stone.
You keep going your way and don’t look back…or I’ll turn you into
a pillar which halts.
Speak now or forever watch the police.
I used to have boyfriend…now I have a snail in a pail.
Do you hurry too much? Try to bow down to Life.
He’s got the whole world in his Band!
My doctor said,you have a pernicious Redeemer.
I said,that’s very rude.
He said, but I must tell you,you need more redder blood.
But why is Jesus pernicious..?
So he says,Are you going mad as well?
So I answered him,You’re mad already, aren’t you?
I will be mad if you won’t let me reject you, quoth he.
So I said,why are you like all the others?
Who else is infecting you,he cried angrily.
I don’t know.doctor,they are invisible to the naked eye
Are you hallucinating? he puzzled
Not yet but i am doing my damndest.Can you see any ghosts
That’s evil,he responded.
What,like the Bankers and the Wealthy?I asked politely
Anyway he said, forget politics can I inject now?
Oh,dear,are you an addict,doctor.you’ve kept that hidden?
What on earth do you scheme,Mrs Tan?
Is it cocaine you’re on doctor?
No,it’s just vitamin B12.That will redeem you.
I said,I don’t think Jesus will like that.
He cried out.
What the bloody hell has He got to do with it?
So I sang
“He’s got the whole world in his band.”
Then he rang for the ambulance and had me sectioned.
Still,it passed the time…it was an outing.
They just let me out.
I’m not crazy enough to get free treatment on the NHS..
but I feel awfully tired and my blood is not red…
it’ pale pink….if only it were watercoloured
I wouldn’t have to worry about menstruation
and blood stains on my lace underwear,
The unmentionablesDon’t you think it should be called womenstruation?
Why do men call everything after them?
History is now Herstory….
But that’s not fair on men,is it? -
Wink to me only with thine eyes
and I will wink with mine.
But I recall I cannot wink,
Though your winks are sublime.Oh,who will teach me this fine skill
I feel I have some part missing.
If noone teaches me to wink,
I’ll just have to keep on kissingTed and Sylvia
Was a night of sexual frolics,with someone you
didn’t even love,in a place with no telephone,
Was it worth thirty plus years of harrowing
Grief and guilt.Did you need the excitement?
Writing,too demanding.Real love was certainly
A demand but one you’d think would be
A useful mine for poetry.Sylvia’s love
Too much?And what you thought would be
A few seemingly trivial acts,could have
such consequences.
But isn’t that always so ?
I don’t think Pontius Pilate knew
His name would go down in history
As the Judge of God,
As he washed his hands like an obsessive,thinking
A ritual would heal him of his guilt.
Would we have been any better?
I’d say,No
Stan’s calculating again
Stan and Annie were clearing a big desk to make space to study government statistics.Despite this Annie was dressed as brightly as a peacock in turquoise cotton trousers and a teal blue viscose
and polyester [with 5 percent elastane] V necked striped topShe chose the V neck was because she thought it made her look slimmer, but if that were so it was contradicted,paradoxically, by the clinging induced by the elastane in the fabric.
“What a problem dressing is nowadays,” she screamed eerily.
Her bedtime reading was
“Contradiction, Paradox,Woman and Society”
by the unknown,unseen,invisible yet highly productive world famous author Dr K. R. Brazenhwaite.O.B.E.Paradox and contradiction are the route understanding” was the last sentence she had read before she fell asleep last night.
Then she had dreamed she saw a mouse eating a lion.
No wonder she had indigestion today“Shall I make the coffee” she said to Stan.
“No,dear.I’ll do it if you can get the graph paper sorted.”
Stan stood up and walked across the room with a dazed expression.
“I hope he’s not been trying self hypnosis again” she thought quixotically.He returned with two large mugs of steaming hot coffee.
“Would you like a meringue” he enquired.
“I’d love one.”
“So would I,” he answered glumly.”But we have no cake at all.”
“I blame Maggie Thatcher.”
“Why her?”
“Well, she caused the cake shops to compete;then they all shut down”
“Why upset yourself.”
Stan began to sob and moan in agony.
So Annie rang 999.
“Can you send a paramedic.My friend needs a
meringue.” she said in a friendly tone.
“What do you think the N.H.S. is ,a cake shop?” the receptionist replied assertively in ringing tones.
“Well perhaps it should be.We older folk need cakes!”Annie sobbed.{Or older folk knead the cakes ?]
“How old are you,” the woman said.
“Why is there some cut off point?” Annie retorted…
“Yes,we only supply meringues to centenarians!”
she was told.
“Well really,whatever next,” Annie cried in shock.
“I suppose they have to economise now and can no longer
supply cakes and ale to pensioners like they always
used to do.” she muttered sardonically
But we could send you some toasted mouse sandwiches,” she was told.”Don’t bother,” she cried ferociously.
The heat and talk had made her makeup run and small rivers of turqouise,black and blue were crossing her face giving it the appearance of a large bruise.
She wished she had followed the advice her mother had given to her“When in doubt,leave it out.”
.
Or,was it “when in doubt,say nowt.”or even “when glum ,keep mum.”
“I would have kept Mum,”she thought resentfully, “but the law won’t let you once they die”.
“Why do we have so little freedom here in England?” she asked Stan querulously.
“I can’t tell you” he croaked mysteriously
“Why not? It’s forbidden by the Official Secrets Act.”
“After we finish the statistics on unemployment and mental health we could look into Official Secrets,” he promised her mellifluously.
“Stan, you are so good.” she shouted gratefully.
Will you wash my new jeans?” he asked.
“Why can’t you do it?” she fretfully quizzed him
“I don’t want Mary to see them.”
“Gosh it’s 5pm .She’ll be back soon.”
“We’ve not got far today.”
I expect we can make up for it tomorrow.”
Not wanting to contradict him she remained silent whilst he studied her face like an a psychologist trying and failing to see meaning in an ink blot.
Then the doorbell rang.It was Dave,the paramedic with a tray of mouse sandwiches.What a nasty surprise.
And now they really must get the social and economic statistics ready for the class Stan is giving later in the week at the Socialist Pensioners Club in the town centre,meringues or no meringues.
After all,someone did once say of the common people:
Let them eat cake.
And look where that got them.
Did anyone say,Revolution?
-
Even at the drop of a gnat,God is watching.
We were at that obsolescent hour when life seems past and present
simultaneously
Towards the end of my mope,I begin to feel hope.
She’s omniperious today
At the rends in our day,I feel we should pray
Catch the end of the checking border and whip yourself boldly.
Handcuffed to a man, there is no limit to whom I could deceive.
She has such gall and sob it, may the rest man win.
We had the last minuet then wished for compliments
What’s with your End..is it also your Beginning?
What a ploy!
What a pearl.
I’m getting harried in the morning
I have all these facts to grind before I go to the dogs.
May the least man win.
Jesus wants me for a sun scheme.
Lord,what hopelessness;Lord not today?
Tell me when I’m in a God mood.
What’s the real ideal?
I’ll be your sweetmeat,if you repine.
Ah, my Med cruise..I nearly died of whoredom
All in a guy’s smirk…just observe him
All in due rhyme
All over my lips today,those salty kisses from May.
They all wailed in companionship
All maths yet no fractions.. what decimal is this I see before me?
All that twitters is not told
Anyone for a quiz or a puzzle?
All the love bites and kisses
All bums inspected today .. please wipe.
All work and no say, makes Jack a Union man
All’s wear in love from afar
All’s well that sends emails and tells
All get off near the beer and drink it up.
Already got one seesaw in the circus.
Altitude is determined by the Beatitudes.
I’m feeling like a pint of whiskey.
Shall we have a pee now? Sorry, tea now ?
On Witches hill I caught a bass…did you know fish can walk?
If only bricks could talk
-
You gnawed at my jeans… I can’t keep buying new ones.. get a bone!
You fell into my art like a bee into a flowerstack.
.
You let my heart backfire… and now I feel a little direYou wore out my heart so now I have a pig’s heart instead…no wonder
I’m so fat!
Your creative heart is so juicy…let me sip your nectar.
You’re trying art..and it’s trying me..shall we try something different
like sleeping?
Evening
As you walk away through lush leaved trees,
I see you come and go like a sine curve wrapped
around the axes
of tall trunks
and flat earth.
I want to call,”Come back”
but my mouth won’t open.
My lips are dry without you.
I’m flooded with loss already,
though I can still glimpse you now and then.
Sun,so high and golden,
yet I am like a moon,
my desolate heart its inscape,
my hands its freezing soil;
I stare as evening comes
into the dark night sky.
Lines occurred while creating in the bath
Bands of rhyme will be crossing the UK tomorrow.. streams of poetry will bring rain in the eyes.
Season’s Tweetings to Sinners
Shadow of the whole silence is folding over like an envelope.Post it now
The spice of wife..pepper.
~Hop around the roses
It’s best to saunter nowadays.
When inside out, a cat can still scratch.. with its reversible catclaws.Try one tonight.Just unzip the cat and it will spring into the heir…to the throne or is it the air all round>
Until the end of all rhymes I’ll be loving you
Time feels all wounds…and holes
Maps of the iceberg have melted..
Two hearts that beat as none ever did.
I wait for the lime to be ripe then it will be a lemon.
If you have a man,wash him weekly in a tin bath…don’t blame me if you get drawn in…..mate in the bath … saves washing the sheets.
-
Shadow of nails on the Cross.
Wars like diamonds..expensive,useless,hard,yet we must have more and more.
The human is descended from the most aggressive apes as they would mate more often..we will always have wars until the end of the world…which may be getting nearer.
War,I can quip no more.
Take my hand and help me cross the big Quiver I feel coming up…
I’m all worn out like an old rag…throw me into your washing machine,Lord and use some strong soap on me..I need a change.
Don’t let it out Anger…From third age.com
LET IT OUT: “Depression is anger turned inwards” is a common expression, but research shows actively expressing anger only fuels it. It’s a good idea to identify the cause of your anger or resentment, but then instead of going on a rant, figure out constructive ways to overcome the issues at the heart of your discontent.
“The faculty to think objectively is reason; the emotional attitude behind reason is that of humility. To be objective, to use one’s reason, is possible only if one has achieved an attitude of humility, if one has emerged from the dreams of omniscience and omnipotence which one has as a child. Love, being dependent on the relative absence of narcissism, requires the development of humility, objectivity and reason.
I must try to see the difference between my picture of a person and his behavior, as it is narcissistically distorted, and the person’s reality as it exists regardless of my interests, needs and fears.”
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My thoughts unravelled and lay unpleated on the floor of the Emergency Room…
and they just talked all over me.
Time and tide…can I describe?
The broad band of crime is passing over East London as burglars and looters assess their Olympic Strategy alongside the muggers.
“Reason’s Seethings” by Rafe Pascal
You’re just the shadow of my ghoul…you don’t whiten me at all.
Silence is withholding.. you’re hiding behind that glass wall you split yourself up with.
The Christ of life….born again and again..and dies the same way.. every day
Wars like bygones….come round at least annually like Xmas.
Stop and yell for Moses’ tablets.The doctor forgot them and no-one can spot them.
God is the only thing..
Waste the waters…we’ve already wrecked the earth..why wait?
Born from out my mother’s eyes….I never saw her gaze my way again.
I will bend time for you if I can summon up the Gravity,
Rhyme after rhyme….an endless circle.. a spiral…it’s viral…am I on trial?
Rhyme again and again..I have this Zen like man.
They interpreted my dreams yet I still have the screams… Symbols are Us
Try freely associating and soon you’ll be creating…it’s the metaphors of old England that we try now and then
It’s the repressed grief of olde Englande that makes most men go mad.
Rhymes feel quite soothing if they’re of your own choosing.
What’s that doc you’re perusing….is it about loss ans losing?
-
Flowers by virtue of design
Appeal both to the heart and mind.
First perceive and second dwell on
Beauty,truth and hence reason. -
My spare heart is in another land looking for a startling interest rate…or any interest at all…
My opera has songs for you if you join the school of musical tricks and cosmetic funbums.
Sorry I can’t take your call.My tart reached melting point..I put it under the grill and the house set on fire.Ring next year when the heat is off.
My heart sings to you but you have gone deaf.
My hat will fit you too..two minds under the same trilby
My hair will always be blue;it’s so sad now it’s been cut short before it even spoke one sentence
My heart will forever love the real.
My heart whistled before a lyre..I am so ashamed..next it will be smoking in Church..will God mind?
My heart lied once but never again.It lies twice now.
-
My comely white hart ran away into the High Road.. so they say.
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My lonely soup bowl…it needs a mate.Two bowls together forever
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I’m open late for heart to art talks
-
-
My solo is on the high wire and I’m screaming already.
Pass the metre blockers please.My sole had a bone in it… Fish,they really annoy me.
Why should they have bones..My soap is so hot,it washes me well..I’m as white as the sheets though my eyes are red as a rose.
My mind took a bite out of his Tractatus and it’s not been seen since….so do we really need Philosophical Reflections….I’m getting so tired of Mirrors….Let’s ban them now
What,more cliches?
Every blog has its say
Everything’s coming up disrobed
Tainted heart never a true love knows
They fall heart over feels for love and its deals
They fall for some smacks and whips.
Ban the blames .
Gas is always fleeter than air.
On the other tide the boat may come in.
Clang in there
Save a heart…be kind
Heartful creature
I can’t breathe for you
I can’t love without jam
I love you more than my new shoes
In the crick of time he felt me
Keep your Bin empty
Kissing the nose,if it’s sufficiently large
Looking into my whole I feel ok
Cost of each other’s dreams is an enigma
Love is all over my mind..and it’s leaking your way
Smiles across the world unite humans.
I touch you with my fingertips -
Tea,tea, wonderful tea
Nothing quite like it for making one pee.
Tea,tea,say it again.
Bring me more tea
And bring me some men.Let me admire them as I sip my drink.
I like the black ones and also the pink.
I like the poets,but they don’t drink tea..
They like espressos and that’s fine by me.I like Norwegians and I like Greeks.
I like to perceive them,so please do not speak.
I also like ladies,cats and striped bees,
So I’ll open my eyes and I’ll see what eye sees. -
Private
Time is never “just right”
by Kathswords Pro @ 2012-07-15 – 17:01:06
Do not wait; the time will never be “just right.” Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along.
George Herbert
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/g/george_herbert.html#jz1qOtcE2q2guyKO.99Wake up..there’s some metre about!
The sun ascends the rosy summer sky
My eyes,like slits. unwilling to discern
That I must bid my visions fast goodbye.
The mind loves most its thoughts and dreams unlearned.I stretch and breathe and suddenly rise up.
I lift my glasses from the bedside shelf.
Now where’s my tea pot and my special cup?
Without ten mugs of tea,I’ll ruin my health!I take the china cup and gulp hot tea;
And frown at books piled high up on my chair.
Inside I feel so happy I can see-
Contentment is,like the weather.set to fair.Oh,dear,it’s already ten upon the clock!
And I can’t trace a partner for my sock!Stan’s here again
b
While Stan went out for a walk with Emile,the most superior, intelligent and handsome male cat in Knittingham,Mary his cute,hot, yet brilliant mathematician-wife decided to sort through her many clothes,She went upstairs with a small step-ladder.This was needed to help her to look into the horrors of the top shelf which was full of rubbish.
Mary took everything out of the top shelf and put it all onto the bed.Five hair dryers,six blood pressure monitors, seven thermometers, and a box of Carmen electric hair curlers under which was a box of Tena pads.How odd,”she thought,”when I have such beautiful curly hair.And do I suffer from incontinence?I can’t recall it” But though her hair was curly,it was not curly in the right sort of way.That is it did not look chic and elegant.It looked wild and woolly,No doubt she had bought these curlers to tame it but had never used them.Wild her air had remained.And luckily continent she remained so far except when she caught whooping
cough..Which continent she does not admit,though it may be in the Pacific.
Suddenly she heard the front door opening.Afraid that Stan would tease her about all the hair dryers,she threwthem into a cardboard box.She heard foot steps on the stairs.She crouched behind the bed, -
Stan,my wicked angel,are you ready for me?” It was Annie their man-mad next door neighbour.Annie walked into the room wearing a low cut sapphire blue dress which clashed with her emerald green eyes and her ruby red lips.And amazingly with her black nail varnish.
She tottered gamely in on her 6inch serpent skin stilettos. peering shortsightedly at the bed.
“Why have you got all these blood pressure monitors out ,Stan?” she cried,”We can’t get into bed with these!Is it a new fetish?”
“No,it’s not” muttered Mary nastily,”You most definitely cannot go to bed with the monitor,though a digital thermometer might be handy.”
“Oh,Mary,are you here?”
“No,I’m the ghost of Thumbnails Sketch Lane,” she whispered coquettishly,her blue eyes dancing with fun.
“Well,Stan invited me round for a massage!”
“A Reiki massage?”
“Crikey,I don’t know.Just a friendly one.”
“Well,could you not carry on some where else?”
“Yes,but it wouldn’t be so thrilling,I’s find it less exciting if there was no risk.”
“How boring is that!”,Mary exclaimed shyly licking her bright pink curving lips.
“Well there’s no risk now because I’ve found you out.!”
“I know,” Annie responded,”why don’t we go to bed?That would be a risk!”
“Oh,no.I’d rather clear out the wardrobe!”
Annie was not used to being rejected,”Shall I help you?”
“Yes,move house!” Mary teased.”Maybe we would get some better neighbours.I am pretty sure you murdered your husband and sent his body to be recycled in our new wheelie bin,”
“Well,it seemed a good idea at the time,” Annie replied defiantly.
“You’re too impulsive,Annie,but you do have your good side.”Can you ring 999 as I think I am going to fall off this step-ladder.I knew we should have adopted it formally.”
“My dear,I’ll ring 999 immediately.
When Stan and Emile got home they found Dave the paramedic making tea in their pink and teal newly fitted kitchen. I am just making a good cup of tea,he informed them.Yes,we English….who are a mixed race of all sorts of people… we all like a nice hot cup of tea.Carolina..James Taylor
-
Watching Plato shining torches into blackness,
Wandering through the galleries,
Sepia paintings of pines,
Pain came to the emptiness once my heart,
I sat picturing screaming Popes and babies.
Eastward, looking for fresh instruction,
My mind unpleated,like a pair of curtains
Hung out to dry in equinoxal gales.
The bells of Satan’s cell phone
Rang again,startling in this silence.
“You had your smear done yet?”
“It’s me,honey”
“I’m having coffee here in “Costa’s.”
Then I awoke,a man appeared.
How apposite,I need you,Ludwig!
I can’t write logically..In the Science Museum,the mirror cracked
And from it stars flew out,
Adorning cars and bicycles and buses.
The building gently sank into its own reflection.
People flew out like gasping rockets..
Illuminating the blankness,
Calling “Is today the day?”
For what?
Is it Judgment Day at last.
Your bonus is nothing to God. -
You are the soul of indiscretion
A cheery spurt
Adsense makes the money grow.
Fractions speak louder than words.. and frighten the maths phobic.
After my own heart I love your heart
All’s bare in love affairs
You are the dimple of my eye,you are the apple of my ear.. so have no fear.
As far as the shy can see…looks good to me.
So good and golden …I haven’t told ’emI’m facing up to it…this is not a ghost.As time’s asses buy it
Baited breath catches the fish
Baptism by liars
Beauty is in the eye of the my lover
Beauty is only skin deep but hence I’m all over you,sweetheart.
She was so glib ….I called her off..Sulking
Sulking is a form of anger I think…and it’s more common in women or anyone in a position of weakness.It’s something I felt as a child now and then and I remember it can be hard to break out of it.
Just today I was reading an article by Dorothy Rowe in an old Saga magazine.Her mother was a champion sulker…her longest beingSIX MONTHS!
Can you imagine?I know a friend whose mother sulked for three days when the child refused to eat cabbage.
Any way I have thought about it and decided it’s better to put your anger into words or just let go of it…if you sulk it’s very hard for your close family or friends.
In fact,if you sulk I doubt if you’ll keep your friends for long!!
Maybe we don’t realise we are no longer helpless children who had no alternative… we can speak…. or decide to stop dwelling on the issues and move on. -
The morning sun attracts meFrom the avenues of sleepFrom my tiny clock I seeIt’s almost half past eight.
But you keep rolling my way
And I’ll keep rolling yours,
And we won’t allow for any detours.
I drink my tea and coffee
From a very special cup
you gave it to me long ago
And from it I shall sip.
You keep rolling my way
And I’ll keep rolling yours,
And we won’t allow for any detours.
We were once so innocent
And now we are so wise.
I see the sun reflecting
in the mirror of your eyes
You keep rolling my way
And I’ll keep rolling yours,
And we won’t allow for any detours
Our lives are growing longer
And our eyes are growing weak.
And please forgive me now
I have to take a leak.
You keep rolling my way
And I’ll keep rolling yours,
And we won’t allow for any detours
Day: January 19, 2012
More late and mid July 2012
-
Oh,hello Mira.Do run in .How aren’t you?
Wicked,thank you.I’d love some of your best tea… and some cake.
Hear you are..I hotted it up in the microwave.
How old is this tea?
Only a few hours.
The recession is truly terttttttttttttrrible when you can’t afford a fresh cup of tea.
Yeah,I may disagree as it begins to taste like alcohol after brewing for hours.
You should open a brewery…bottled alcoholic tea for a low price
T.Brood.Hear,
.
My daughter is engaged to a Tebrew,Are they that lost tribe of Israel we used to hear about in the past?
No, they are just normal Jewish British folk who love tea even more than other Brits so
All my Jewish friends at Uni liked tea.
There you are,you’re already a Tebrew lover.
Well,that’s slight exaggeration..
Oh please tell me everything right down to the last detail like what you were wearing when you met,where were his hands good at caressing.
Yes,he was keen on caressing ,yeah, but we never went all the way… and now forty years later I’m still a virgin.What is all the way:
I went all the way in my heart
Anyway he was very sweet like honey.His lips were divine… well,you know what I mean,God has no lips but,it’s just an expression.. if God did have lips,how would we know?What a shame he left you.. what happened to him, not God…?
He decided to brew his tea with another..
Another what,teapot?
Another woman.
Did you know her at all?
Not in the biblical sense.I saw her walking down my street loooking pleased
Well,I know you’re not a lesbian… or am I making a category error?
No and I’m not heterosexual either.
Why is that,do you think? Are you otherly sexed?
Or are you non-sexed?
I always felt I had something missing… ,,like perhaps a body.
Are you a virtual spirit?
Well,would a spirit drink tea?
Not if it was Wholly Spirit.
Or what if it were a Holey Spirit… the tea would drip out.Aha.
O layee.O layeeooo. O layee..Oh, oh oh oh!
Are you yodelling or was it just wind emerging?
I think you need to be Swiss to yodel.
Is it genetically transmitted?
No,generically .They give you a licence… the freedom..
What we need is more licentiousness.
Bring back sin..
Bring back the love of the body.
Bring back the language of flowers.
Bring it all back,now!
And that brings to an end this addition of Many Fancies for tonight.
I fancy a meringue now…how about you?
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Tea4.2@ bteainthepot.orgy
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He hurls before she whines
Lord God,heal my bunions and lend me onions
He’s a real grey thinker.Take your own whip and he’s free.
Sir Christopher Wren was uncannily learned.St Paul’s….says it all.
When I’m wise,I feel foolish.
People who live in doss houses need to get stoned.
Deception ruins reality.
I won it but I’m baffled I never even knew it was a marathon.
The plus of the witty
I stick to the low hanging fruit.Am I a human wasp?
My diction’s worse than a thousand birds parroting
Would you like some free oatcakes?Then you can’t have them.
Wig headed…. no more bad hair days
I’m jigged out since I danced with you all night
We pin our mopes on the kitchen noticeboard and throw darts at them
Don’t kiss me on the lips,I want your whips.i want to be tied to your bed all night..if you go out.
It was a kiss-poor relationship but it made them unhappy which was their desire… so you might say,it was a marriage in one shade of grey.
Bladders
His bladder was so full, he pissed onto those hills.
I don’t believe it.
Well,he relieved it.his bladder,I mean.
I wish mine was bigger.
What,penis envy?
No, it’s his big bladder I want.Love me,love my bladder…
Mine is too small…
For what?
For me……
I think if you really truly love someone,you don’t care how big his bladder is,or how small.As long as there’s a public convenience nearby.
The streets are alive
With the sounds of peeing.Well,the council can close down all the conveniences but our bladders still keep filling up regardless
The hills are alive to the sounds of pee wee.
With sounds they have heard
for a million years.Do moors have ears?
Do balls shed tears?Not Ed Balls….
I have no balls on my head and no nuts in my bag.
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There was a toad on our front path.We’ve not seen one for 20 years.
The garden was shrubs with gravel between, but the rain and heat have caused wild flowers to grow in the gravel and some long grasses.So it must be there.I’ll try to get a photo… -
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I loved her for her big blue eyes,
And her Le Creuset pot.
I loved her though she was naive,
For,my word, she was hot.
I loved her curly golden hair.
I loved her home made jam.
But most of all,I loved her brain
And how she dealt with spam.
I loved to lick her bright pink lips
I loved to bite her ear.
But most of all,her innocence,
And how she showed no fear.
I liked to lick her toes as well
I like to touch her hair.
But it now proves so difficult
Because she is not here.
I look at all her photographs,
I look at all her posts.
She has two dnzen boyfriends now.
Whom does she love the most?
I loved her breakfast coffee pot,
I loved her tea as well.
She fed me on hot buttered toast,
The rest I cannot tell.
Except she was tempestuous,
And like an autumn day.
She made the leaves fall off the trees
Though it was only May.
So now I’ve turned quite gay.
She never let me play.
She sells men on E-bay.
Her name is Maisy Fey.
I love her to this day.
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How to tame yourself
Try to gnaw on a piece of wood for a few minutes
to stop yourself biting people’s heads off.
Always keep your nails short and clean
So if you scratch people they won’t turn septic.
Try a small piece of sellotape over your lips
You could paint it pink so it won’t show.
Though if you have a cold you mustn’t.
If you need to say anything try miming or pointing.
Wear a scarf round your face
So your frowns won’t show.
They’ll think you feel cold but that’s better than thinking you have the evil eye
Join a religious order.They’ll tame you free.
Allow people to stroke your head without snarling.
If you lie on someone’s lap having your head rubbed
Keep your nails under control,
Though soft humming and chuckling is fine and most welcome.
If you eat other people’s dinners
Let them eat your dinner.
If you get mad
Climb a tree and sulk invisibly for hours.
If you get sad
Lie in a melancholy heap just outside the bathroom
Someone will notice you and douse you with a jug of hot water.
That will get your back up again.
And at night when you prepare for bed
don’t backup the days grievances onto your internal hard drive.
You will have more space for the best things in life
Which are provided free for those who learn to see widely enough
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I empathised with the wrong type of syllables.Now my language is impregnated with new meanings.
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Everything’s coming up to close
Looking into my hole?
My heart sings to you,are you tone deaf or just horrible?
Let’s droll again,like we did last summer.
let’s split up and then reconnec our cables
Flicking one’s wounds into other’s umconscious minds
I’ll fly down with the lions of Judah
Life is a bowl of worries… just pick one.,
Life’s a bitch and how we love them
As polite as a whether
What a plight at the end of this tunnel
Right in the guts…. he left me for dead.
lightning never strikes the same place twice because it’s not there anymore.
The delights are here again.Thank you,Lord
Do lights shout or am I psychotic?
I like a bull in a china shop…love that crackle
He like a little licking with his head under the bedcover.
I feel like a coiled spring in your mattress.watch out..I’m about to…. kiss your butt
You affect me like a lost flog in the dark.Are you grey yet?
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I could whip you with one arm tied behind my back.
That’s so unkind.. don’t you know I’m a masochist,Untie your arm at once.. unless you are a one handed half sadist
i hate to pray…but…where are you,God?
i have no news about your vital stats.
I hear a cat…
i love you more than common sense recommends
I need a hole in my head…I’ll shoot myself
I never met a man I could ride a bike with since Peter left me
i want my lace bikini and the sun
i wasn’t born yesterday…what a surprise.That’s why I can read…
unless it’s genetic.i wouldn’t whiten teeth for any liar,
I wouldn’t thrust him as far as I could tweet.
It was he who thrusted,Father.I just lay there..you might say,
I got laid.What can I do?I’m no longer a virgin except at driving cars.I’d love my head if I wasn’t so detached.
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This lady was too good and too kind.
She even helped stressed wasps to unwind.
So they sent her to school
To learn how to be cruel.
She had a dark place down deep in her mind.
Why or why not?
How many angels can dance on my PIN
Why are angels men?
Why am I a woman?
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If you want to receive love and grace,
,
You can’t if your soul has no space.If you want to create
You must meditate.
That is one rule at God’s place
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If you fear that blank emptiness
And your life is all frantic distress.
How can angels get in,
Off the head of their PIN?
It’s an answer there’s no need to guess.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
There once was a lady poet
Who gave too much advice, and free quotes.
So her friends got her high,
She was up in the sky,
So she flew but still felt overwrought
Her friends were very annoyed
She was too much by words mis-employed.
So they bought her a lute
With a built in sweet newt
Music’s an art to be loved and enjoyed.
This lady was too good and kind.
She even helped stressed wasps unwind.
So they sent her to school
To learn how to be cruel.
She had a dark shadow lost deep in her mind.
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Don’t miss this haunting song sung by Sinead O’Connor
My lover eats me like blank verse.
My lover bleats till I’m full of mirth.
My lover makes two seem a cloud of unknowing.
My lover is sweet though he’s a trifle terse at every verse end
We watch TV when there’s nothing else on Earth.
We play music so loud no ear is uncovered.
My education never made me an Object of Desire…I expire too soon..please extend my lifeby taking out a new warranty.
My first boyfriend had a lovely smile;just once,I admit,but it was worth waiting for…I think.
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Life feels so Blair sometimes.
You have nothing to fear
The fear of fear is bad for your health.
There’s nothing so near as fear itself.
There’s nothing so dear as wishing for wealth.
There’s nothing to fear in begging for help.
There are many things more queer than loving one’s self.
You have nothing to fear but the Era of stealth.
I have nothing but tears, yet I drink to your health.
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Never put back on tomorrow what you remove today.
Being contrary,I shall please myself -
Cocaine for the blues
Thinking of you.
Heroin’s bad news..
You have to choose.
Will you sign up? It’s free.
How will we be?
Just choose a password,
Faintly absurd.
We’ll confirm your account…
By email,don’t doubt.
You can register here..
Join us without fear.
Friends are so wikkied…
So do not be trickied
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Art’s as easy as how to see.
It’s so easy to draw water.
The beans mystified our trends
Let them seat crows.
Let the wheat cake.Let them meet steak!
And so prey all of us
His seat is lead!
He’s in fear of dread.
She eats me like verse.
I eat straight from his hat
You beat your gun and I’ll beat your bum:Forty glades of hey!
Do you eat your own frog’s food?
We found eight hundred Camilla’s all harrying one man.
The Elephant and the Broom:an opera in three perhaps’s
He sent a promotional rolling boaster to comb the streets
You empathise with the wrong sort of Syllables.
I’ll pre-empt your flattery..I just know I’m at the behest of the crunch.
Did you pay for me and my paramour’s whole synthesizer?
It’s the reverse end of the sentence.Ecnetnes eht…… gad it
I don’t like words with no ends.
Our blends mystify the means.
Not even a kind squirrel lends an acorn to a tree.
While the Press liars’ churning …the disabled folk are hurting.
We have no wheels at all today… not even for meals
To save confusion I shall admit that I sometimes invent a word..not just here but in my poetry too..after all it’s a human made symbolic world and I have the right to add to it…oh,pluck off.
The cure it cliche
I wept till I cried… how dare he have died?
Why keep both sucklings abreast?
Keep you cinders flossed nightly.Stop here and try a scone..please bereave me.
Keep your gin up and be toned as a few fans hit some nit.
The government keep the fares dear and keeps old dears afraid.
keep your face powder fried ahead and brush your eyebrows till symbolic
I’m keeping a cup of tea for his Bones
He makes even hard men very depressed..
My kiss keeps on sticking to your face.please accept my demonologies
I’ll just cock the vacuum and weigh the dust
I’ll flick this problem to a nerd with verve
Tickle some brute.. you show it makes mince
She flicked her hair so musically,it was great tart..
How to pick your own feet up for dummies.
Click till she reels…photography is a book’s spell -
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain — and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the skyProclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the nightFree for a fee
An accessory devil is available on bequest
Perspicuity is the father of circumvention
Doctor,my nerves are like weals.
Impervious as a top hat on a hot headed youth
Never put back on tomorrow what you remove today
I have a new tease on line
The brewery is my curey,doctor.
Wise guys finish last
A fright a day keeps my nerves in play
Unzip and good luck
Tip it in the flood
It’s woe with your umrelenting tales
I’m no glamourer
It’s an oh,oh moment!
No bolds charged here.It’s free for a small fee.. -
He was hailed beneath the axe.
I am torn with wrath and woe.
Take some meths..and set your self alight.
I’ll take a fracture;it will cast longer.
Knit a sheep’s hat and keep the moors warmer.
Life’ so Blair sometimes
Shake me alive with the wounds of music
Make the town wheezy
Bake it for Tee
He faked wit to its limits
Wake me with a pail of malt.
I made a mind filled with rhymes
Doctor!Why,he mocked me….then he shot me.
Rake the hill with hate stones
I’m well coveted
A land of silks and money.
A land of jilted Bunnies.
The last witch’s effort to inspell me into doom has failed again.
Rioters bid a fast ta ta to the Law
The fast and the feast..I love you at least as much as you do.
Your laughter thrills my wits
They laughed all day as their ship sank.Positive Thinking..gets you drowned faster
He plays down my flaws without prayers
I pay my bards on the navel.
He has a faked heart crack.
I leave no crone unweaned.
Turn left at the altar…and run round the side aisle.Practise escapology before the wits of theology
He was a legend in his own crime novels.
A shepherd doesn’t change two sheets easily.
“The wisdom of city devils”: my latest suffering in details.
The evil is in the retail.
Down in the Mall,don’t spend less than your All
Oh,Susannah,don’t you tell lies to me,
I’m off to my old Mama and then I’ll come to see.I’m as busy as a lone flea on a well coveted cat.
Can I pee,too,in Hell?
You’re as blind as my Dell.
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At the hopes of what pseudo-dope?
The Pope’s at the end of his Cope this summer.
We blend hope and dismay…what else can I pray?
At the sight of the tricky hoarder…I say,why her,why here?
On hearing the last sin,the Confessional box burst into flames.
Father said,I know it was mortal,but it’s hell in here,Lord.
Why do I hear?I’ve just got one Ex to grind..
On the tip of the sands
Pat her with joy
She’s my pearl.
She’s my Fairy Queen.
I’ve been blotted already and I’m just a Parker.
I’m a Sheaffer waver…and my blink is permanen
How my heart sings 