September 2012 THE FIRST FEW DAYS

I was planning to make a carrot cake till my mother told me:

Carrots don’t eat cake.

What are carrots anyway? Why are they so picky?

I have to eat all my food or I get punished by hunger pains.

Are there worms inside me eating my food or biting me?

Do worms have teeth?What is it they like about soil.

Charles Darwin wrote a book about worms…

So far I have not read it.

Worms are the opposite of us.

They never get angry or depressed as far as we can tell..

How fortunate as to psychoanalyze a worm would be hard.

Indeed could you tell a worm to lie on the sofa

Or would you have to climb inside a plant pot next to the worm?

As Wittgenstein might have said,

If worms could speak we would not understand what they said.

I don’t know,I think I can guess though…

I have some experience …symbolically that is.

Or is it metaphorically?

Imagine a worm on your couch.

Hmm,how are things going?

Yurp,blurp!

Well,that’s good.

Werp,serp!

Quite right,I am interfering with your transfernce.

Hurpppppppp.

Would you like a little soil?

Mummmm

Oh,dear…I should not have offered you anything.

Daddddddd.

Surely you don’t remember him?

Herrrrrrrr.

So your dad was a lady?

Oh ,ahhh!

Well,it takes all sorts.

Glumb,glomb.

I’m afraid your time is up.

Tinnnnnggggggggg

You want a minicab?

Taaaaaaaaaaaaa.

That’s £500

Do you take plastic?

No,only notes.

Doh,ray,me

I never knew worms could sing…

Well,you do now.

Writing brings up treasures deep,
as do dreams whilst we’re asleep.
Take such gold and use it well,
If you have a heart to tell.

Wisdom comes from sharing views;
So point out critics to your Muse.

Your name is on the dotted line.Design carefully.

A garland of milkshakes?

Wet a life.Drink more tea.

Set a room on fire with humour.

Can I get a word in edgewise?The third dimension.

I get all worked up if I see a tin can.

Let an earful pass by.

Let me back up the horse before bedtime.Which disc is the right shape?That’s lucky1

Steps cleaned free if you buy a gross of rubber gloves.

I get crushed by cruel words.

I let down my socks and he sucked my toe…I just have the one left after the cat bit them all off….I should be mad but I like cats eyes.

Did you get a direct hit on the champagne?

Frets lost at sea.Come back happy though wet.

Set my messages to music?

I’ll get off this piano now and let you rest con brio.

Wet out your fear.Drink brandy now!

Get the cat out of my hair now!

How do you get over the hump and other sullen stories for children

He said he’d get me a cook,not a book!

Oh,hang me out to dry when the sun shines bright

They hang on every word and then ignore it.
.
Why hanging your clothes up is bad for you.

Do you wish to be as happy as a shark?read this.

What flipping pancakes does for your wealth.

What a hard way to alight from the human race.

Cardboard headed men and how to love them.

What made a bard stop composing and other tales and songs.

X rays are hard to swallow

Care waned her ideas.

He has a leg up the chimney:How I caught Father Xmas

Chaste makes waste so make haste.Lose your virginity on the train.

Bat in hand he approached the thicket and was knocked out by a cricket.

Hate rots.

Do you have a spare cow?

They have hearts but no heads.Put them to bed with no stead.

And have a lovely heart attack every day with fat for all your meals.

Have a precise day with a mathematician.Dots are us.

I’ll have s hot at Schrodinger’s Equation when I have cooked this lemon sponge cake:How to wear a dress and do maths simultaneously.
For complete beginners.All equations provided free on the MHS

Some days are days for losing
Diaries,letters,lovers.
Some days are days for losing
Fathers,money,mothers.Some days are days for finding
Mobile phones and patience.
Some days are days for finding
New friends and old relations.Some days I feel at sea for hours,
Some days I feel so lost.
Some days I know that life’s worthwhile
Whatever the emotional cost.

Days are special units
In the journey we call life.
Days are short so don’t waste time
In needless haste or strife.

He had a solitary cold so then he caught flu to make it happy.

I was suffering from being single then someone gave an aitch and now I suffer from shingles…which takes my mind off everything else.

I looked at my mirror image and she looked at me.What choice did we have?

If you break a mirror it brings bad luck… so I robbed the Bank and went to jail rather than wait…

Have you ever been in love?It’s a bit like heroin but you can’t buy it
in the street…but you can catch it all over the place.
just keep smiling and someone will love you.The question is,
Will you love them?
Wait and see.

I got bitten by a gnat so I ate it!Served it right… in a bowl of yoghurt.

DOCTOR LAMB

We once had a doctor called Lamb,

Who was inundated with a barrage of Spam.

He got a computer expert,

But alas this man jinxed it.

And now it gets nothing but Ham!
.

This is a very early work as is obvious.

Tell me where you keep your love.
Would you like some thermal gloves?
Do you love this snow white dove?
Oh,tell me tell me,tell me.

Is your love in a jam jar?
Is it where those wasps gather?
Will heaven above be very far?
Oh,tell me,tell me,tell me.

If I kiss you will you mind?
How was human kind designed?
Has pure loving been defined?
Oh,tell me,tell me,tell me.

Have you seen Will o’ the Wisp.?
Has your ear never been kissed?
Would you like me to desist?
Oh,tell me,tell me,tell me!

Will you be my lover true?
What will all the others do?
Stick to me like UHU!
Oh,tell me,tell me,tell me

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 meat.”
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?”

When yet another lover flees my bed
and leaves me cold and lonely in the night,
I wonder if it’s unkind words I’ve said,
Or is it that my eyes have lost their light?

I lure them in with all my female arts.
They feel I’m like a spider with a trap.
to lure ,devour,digest my foolish guests,
They think there should be warnings on the map,

But some who find me feel they have been blessed.
I give them my attention and desire
I give them gentle care and sing sweet songs.
I give them comfort like a winter fire

Oh,come back ,sweet one,don’t desert me yet,
The clothes I washed for you are still quite wet.

 

I let my thoughts play in my mind,

And to living beings I’m kind.

But what is real and what is not?

I think I have forgot!

So I live in a strange,old world,

with fantasy and love entwirled.

But I am happy,I am sad;

And,always,I am glad.

Emile’s diary:why do humans have lips?

 

I’m sitting under the coffee table.By rights I should be given some cafe au lait in a traditional French style wide cup with a silver brim plus a matching saucer.I am shocked that Stan has never asked me to partake.I need a coffee break..it’s hard work spying all day!
I heard Anne talking on her mobile while Stan was looking for the graph paper.She must be talking to another woman…. she said she’s just bought some Revlon primer lotion to put under her light beige mousse foundation.
Ye Gods,it sounds as if she’s painting the wall.She was moaning she can’t afford Lancome any more.Mousse foundation..that sounds tasty!
She wants some heather coloured lipstick but she couldn’t find any.She’s put a new one on anyway and Stan came in to give his opinion:
Congratulations,Anne.You have found lipstick that’s exactly the same colour as your own lips.
She was mortified.I could see tears in her eyes but luckily she had her waterproof mascara and purple
eyeshadow on.
Well,it makes me glad to be a cat…we have no need for skin products
and we have no lips as such.
Why do humans have lips?Is it mainly for kissing?
And perfume………we like the natural odours but I’ve never seen Stan go up and sniff Anne’s nether
regions…though I admit I took a sniff and she smells very intriguing… probably some musk she’s bought.

I envy Stan in a way.Because I’d like to kiss Anne but my lips are too small….I could lick them with my little raspy tongue!
Well,must go and take a walk around my territory and sniff out who’s about….face primer.What next.Paint?
stripper

Bite me.Write me.Knight me.Writer’s block………….. a place where writers were beheaded in the past.

Writer’s block……………..a block of flats occupied by writers.

Writer’s block…………..something stopping one from connecting to one’s Muse.

Writer’s block………………soap for removing ink from the hands

Writer’s knock…………………when a writer’s heart thumps too much whilst they’re working

Writer’s clock………………The clock seems to have turned faster than usual so you are still writing at 3 am

Writer’s clock………… The clock seems to have turned faster than usual and you find you are still writing at
age seventy. {By kind permission of Shimon Zevi]

Writer’s dock…………..a place for parking writers.

Writer’s dock……………A place for writers to stand whilst being tried in court for plagiarism etc

Writers’ flock……………….. A gathering of writers.

Writers’ mockery…………A place in a magazine where we can mock writers we hate.

Writer’s shock……………What a writer gets on first publishing a work to the public.

Writer’s luck……………………..When the muse comes out early and stays late.

Writer’s muck………………..All the stuff in the black of the mind.

Writer’s knock…………………..A pain in the chest from over zealously working too hard

Writer’s frock……………. A dress once worn by a famous female writer.

Writer’s lock…………………… Some hair I stole from a writer for my collection.

Writer’s crock……………….. a bowl used by a writer to eat cereal from.

Writer’s duck…………………When you write all day and it’s utterly useless to man or beast.Like a duck in cricket

Writer’s truck……………a vehicle for an over prolific writer to carry their writing in.

Writer’s suck……………..An occasional reaction to post modernist writing by a “normal” human being.

The best cure for sad seems to be..
To go into the garden for tea.
Then as you sit quiet,
Your butterfly will alight.
All you need to do is to see.
.
Tranquility is needed each day,
If we are to become who we may.
So breathing is calm
And fresh air is a balm.
Hyperventilate no more,but please play!.

Your “garden” may consist of just weeds.
But at least they have grown from their own seeds.
So contemplate now,
And I think that,somehow,
Your heart will receive just what it needs

 

Even in a single moment one can receive love
From the smile of a stranger passing by;
Why should love not be short
Like a grass blade,
Or tiny like a grain of sand?
Dante only saw Beatrice once,
But it sustained his life for ever.
That’s worth dwelling on.
Share.

Sorry,I am unable to answer the phone.
My voice is on strike.
My husband has to keep his eye on the clock today.
My sister’s glued to the television.
While my brothers have been at loggerheads for some time.

My daughter has to keep a weather eye on her fiancee,
And my granddaughter has been entranced by “The Magic Flute.”
The cat is having kittens.
The dog is chasing his tail.
I’ve got my finger on the button
And my hand in the till.

My feet have gone to sleep.
My head is coming unscrewed,
And my mind is on higher things.
Where my brain is is under investigation
And I hope to be reunited with it soon
But they can’t be absolutely certain it will reconnect.

My spirits have been in the doldrums
But I have some whiskey in the cupboard.
My career spanned the heights and the depths,
Though not of love
as God would recognize it,
In a very real sense.
You must rest assured I care about you
Though I do not feel able to converse, owing to invasion by viruses.
Now there’s just a few minutes before I go for broke again
Please leave a message after the pips.

I like to have my eye on you so don’t move in case it rolls off.

I keep a frown in the cupboard for the cat’s mother.She was a Chesire cat,you see.The smile is painful.

She keeps someone at bay…..her husband… and everybody else’s too.Is she anti-men or anti humans?

Keep you fingers lost please.

I keep a grin on my pillow all night.

Live with your eyes open for signs of humour or wisdom.

Can keep your hair on in hospital nowadays?They love to shave one I found…is it because nursing is now a graduate profession or are they stuffing pillows for Charity?

Do you keep your toes on your feet still?

How can we keep up with our loans?

Do you fear lying?Please be honest with me.

 

Dr Smith was a lucky man.
He had a wife called Mary Anne.
He gave her children twenty two.
How ever did this woman do?

She had many helping hands
To take her children on the sands.
They swam in batches in the sea.
And then she took them home for tea.

She had triplets,she had twins.
She even had one set of quins.
So loneliness was quite unknown.
And all were trained to use the phone.

She was a very sturdy wife.
She worked hard most of her life.
But once a week she went to town
And looked at bags and evening gowns.

But Dr Smith did not go out.
He was in his surgery ,no doubt.
At night they went to bed and loved
Just like a pair of turtle doves.

In the morning she rose up
And made some tea in a big cup.
She had a tiny chunk of time.
For such a one,this is no crime.

We all need a peaceful break,
To sit by our own inner lake.
To see the fish and watch the sun
As gold and glowing up it comes.

So if you have many children too,
Take heart from this small tale.
She took her time to meditate…
And her heart never failed.

For men may come and men may go,
and likewise children too.
You need to have some free “me time.”
Whatever else you do.

Better wait for a letter than go without a word.;

Nothing lying, nothing feigned.In that way you’ll cause less pain

Better a woe than a worry or perhaps not.

Seek and find your right mind.

There’s no such thing as a female hunch.

The best things in life are me and thee.

Two wrongs make me write.

Practice makes word perfect.

There’s many a clue that was uttered in jest.

Wha

 

I saw some red fluff on the carpet…well,it’s red carpet.I dropped my cup of tea and the fluff soaked it up
Note:Must remember never to snog on the floor…it would be impossible to get the fluff of me!
Another quiet Sunday.I forgot to listen to Poetry Please.
Note:Must get a wall calendar… do they do academic year ones.
I saw a squirrel in the garden… pity it was not a sheep which would save mowing the lawn.
I went out this morning.I spent ages wondering whether to put a cardigan on.In the end I put on my navy Windsmoor cotton blazer style cardigan with lapels.. ..but it was too hot.I hummed and hawed over a red pvc imitation leather satchel type handbag.I wonder what Dave will think of that?
In the end I settled for buying Woman and Home in case I get short of paper to line the cats tray..she prefers glossy paper…really!
I wonder if I need any toilet paper this week and toothpaste?
I think I’ll read some Dickens again.Shall I marry Dave? That is,if he asks me.. of course i am already married in a sense… but no-one knows that.Why is bigamy a crime.Whom does it hurt?
You can have multiple boyfriends in the pursuit of multiple orgasms but you can only have one husband.It seems discriminatory.Though it might mean having a lot of children.
I think I’ll wash my hair tonight.Or how about waiting another day?I find it hard to decide…maybe a wig?
I must drink that tea…the cup that cheers,they say.I have a mug.God, the milk’s run out again… it’s Goody Two Shoes.She’s my cat.She only has two legs but she can go really fast on an electric skate board…
Disabled cats..send me a cheque please.Paracatolympics now

http://www.finestquotes.com/author_quotes-author-Robert%20Frost-page-0.htm

The problem is very few of these sites give the book or article from which the quote come

The mirror cracked,look, stranger.
The lowing herd winds up this island now.
The leaping light for your delight
A multitude of colours shows.
Beside the lake,beneath the trees
I wonder where old dragons go?

April is the cruelest month.
In the doldrums,we get snowed under.
Earth has not anything to show more fair
Than Boris Johnson’s flaxen hair.
On Westminster Bridge we stand and gaze,
We’ll be trapped here for days and days.

The policemen put the kettle on.
But where has Red Riding Hood’s granny gone?
Sing a song of sixpence,I have love but no money.
The bees are in the lavender collecting for their honey.

The Kettles are coming,ha ha,ha ha
The pans and the pots are going to war.
By yon bonny banks and by yon bonny braes.
I should kneel down now ,it’s time for a prayer.

There’s a blog calling itself the dullest in the world.It’s entries are like this.
www.dullestblog.com

I woke up and felt nice and cosy.So I stayed in bed for 60 more minutes.

I watched TV for an hour last night.I drank some beer from a can.I fell asleep.

Picture of nothing here so it’s invisible but i’ll leave a space for it.

I had toad in the hole for my dinner.My girlfriend was out.The toad was lovely so I didn’t cook him.i am keeping him in the windwobox.

I washed my underwear yesterday so it will be dry by Monday.I have no tumble dryer.

I will go for a walk today..maybe or perhaps I’ll lie on the sofa and day dream.

Noone wants to read this but am I bovvered?

• C

This morning was bright and warm
Outside a garden chair with,of course,a soft cushion,
Was inhabited by a sleeping
Oscar,who woke and
stretched
and graciously permitted
me to scratch
his neat black head.
Soon after a white
cat with gingery patches
was seen
ascending the stairs.
Where is she going?
Where is she from?
Where are they all from?
do they sense a space?
This house was the
home for many years
of loving cats.
Now it seems a vacancy has been
declared on Cat Wide Web.
They are coming round
to see how they feel
No decision as yet!

Lurching yet graceful still,the old black cat sets off;
Slowly he circles the edges of the garden in joy.
In the car,though still in a shut basket,
He always knew when we came to the turning of the road.
Was it the cherry trees in blossom,a scent
Or something we could never be aware of?
I would open his basket in the car.
He comes out and descends so carefully
Onto the pavement,then tries to bound up the path,
The long wooded back garden is his greatest joy.
He would sit watching tiny frogs in a deep pond
In the sun.No doubt he longed to catch one.
He once brought a robin indoors,
The bird was completely unharmed.
It must have been his gift to me
We released it later after its shock had worn off.
Now he can only hobble,
And soon, his thinness warns me,he’ll be gone.
No cat has ever loved or will love like this cat,
A rescued, terrified animal.
His eyes say everything to me.
I look into their clear-jewelled greenness
I look into a deep,still glowing sea of light.
The last day,finally, all day, he’s on my knee.
I say”goodbye,goodbye,baby”.
And he’s gone,just before tea.
Now the garden seems empty.
Love leaves a gap.
Love leaves us bare
Love leaves us stripped.
Yet Love is eternal grace.
A mystery of faith,
I b

We sat at our table in the full sun,
Light reflected from the French window,
So bright it was…
Made the Mexican Orange Blossom
Throw out wild white flowers
Into the side of the shady wood-like garden.
Reflected light had made it bloom.
And then down the path came quietly
A white cat with a black patch on her side.
Attentive to other life forms, she starts when
She notices us.She was near but had not seen;
Pretends to run off down the path
but when I raise my head she was coming
From the other way,from
the kitchen door,calmly….
As if she owned everything.
She does,too.
Otherwise there was a faint twittering of sparrows
In the holly festooned with wild white rose.
It was summer,the cats know.