Day: November 25, 2014

Rules for this ward.Kindly obey or face a ticking cough

[Photo by Mike Flemming.Copyright 2014.]

Please do not fall over after rising from the bed.

Please sit down on your chair and not the consultant’s knee.
Kindly do not tell the doctor he is stupid.He knows already and it’s genetic.
The doctor is only a pest sometimes.So act accordingly.
Kindly pretend to listen to the Consultant on his round.He is human.
Kindly do not eat cream buns  or meringues in front  of the Consultant.He is on a diet.
Kindly avoid catching any bugs belonging to or emanating from this hospital.
Please do not swallow your Kindle Fire before lights out.
Keep yourself clean.Take a bed by the open window during a storm.
Kindly avoid dying when we are busy.Wait for a  better time to go.
Kindly do not write verse  on your sheets unless in water soluble ink
Kindly recover before Friday as we are shutting for the weekend
Kindly write poetry on paper and not on your arms and legs.
Kindly do not copy these rules down.They are our secret.
Kindly keep all you hear secret.

Arched like a fallen moon

Old man,bending over,
arched like a fallen moon
in a dark lilac November sky.
joy and pain wrestle my heart across the emptiness
and toss it up like a damp rocket
to fall in a hidden corner where mice live.
Would that not be a good ending,to be dust
to these little creatures nesting
in my chewed green twine and my tartan basket?
They have eyes and shiver in my hand when I rescue them
from the cat…
as any heart might.
Now night falls on the newspaper basket
where the damp Times and the Guardian mix into glue
and tomorrow the sun will rise
and it will just be the garbage
with no poetic undertones nor deathly hushes..
Heather and a silver light
you stand on a hill top like a god
looking over his domain.
Strong and now weak
it’s the humane condition
Everlasting life is too dangerous for humans.
Silent,motionless,home of beetles
bit by bit we fall away
into the mother soil
with cracked jugs and dropped coins
for a future academic to dig into.
Transparent hand touches me.
Who are you?

When God laughs

You muat visit this writer’s site.

johncoyote's avatarjohncoyote

When God laughs

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

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I read Jack London book today “When God laughs.” It is a amazing book.

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          Quotes and words from a amazing writer Jack London and friends.”The gods, the gods are stronger: time Falls down before them, all men’s knee Bow, all men’s prayers and sorrow climb Like incense toward them: yea, for these gods, Felise”
Harry Cowell
“That is she! Holy as love, and sweeter! Just a woman, made for love: and yet-how shall
I say?-drenched through with holiness as your own air here is with the perfume of flowers.
Well. they married. They played a hand with the gods-”
Jack London”
How to keep the flame-winged lute-player with his dumb eloquence of desire? To feast him was to lose him.
Their love for each other was a great love. Their granaries were overflowing with plenitude: yet they wanted to keep…

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Stan went down town to buy needles and other unlikely reminiscenses

cat looking

On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-otherwise wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs he had bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Now what shall I wear.? Stan thought over-anxiously.
He had O.C.D now and then… depending on what was happening in his lifw
People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
Why has God kept me so youthful?
Surely not so I can seduce more women?
We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?
Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
Or is it, More waste,less feeds?
He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
He looked again narcissistically at his image.[I sure can spell.]
His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
His dark hair looked very full for his age.
His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner,
Jason Weizzmen-know-all
And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.

6010299_f260
As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.
At least I don’t wear make up!
Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.
More taste less greed.
What does that mean?asked Stan.
If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
I want to go high,high.
I want to reach the sky…hi.
what will I do when my love is away
Will I be happy on my own?
Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
I’ll try not to sing out of tune!

My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.

At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready.
I wonder if I’ve got body dysmorphic syndrome,he conjectured emotionally
At the bus stop there stood Annie their neighbour.
Hi,Stan,where are you going.
I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
I can lend her some,she shrieked.
Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
Who is normal?
Let’s just assume we will recognise it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,They should let them sleep here.They are so cruel.
Anne shouted in a fury.
No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
Very true,she replied,
As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
A goat would be ok.

Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
Over the page to Fly.

Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick.
At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
You both look very merry!
Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warninigly.
Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
Why? she murmured,I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
Your wish is my command he muttered,
I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s on elsewhere.
He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back to the terminus.
But we want to go into town,every one howled.
There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
Hello! said Mary.
Did you get my needles,Stan?
I’m so sorry,Mary.I’ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
And where is my supper.
I’m afraid it’s still in the womb of time!
I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast.
But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were soon drifting into a light doze.Going down town is such hard work nowadays.

Stan wants to go to a class

5329053_f520Stormy weather

Stan was thinking of going to an Evening Class.He had got a brochure from the public library on Saturday but there was not much in it.As he was sitting in his conservatory brooding restlessly over this he saw a looming shape pass by.It was Annie his neighbour wearing a big rucksack.
“Annie,you are usually dressed in a fashionable and stylish even modish manner.Whence the rucksack?”
“Oh,well,you’re out of touch.Rucksacks are the new handbags according to Prada.”
“Is Prada that young lady who has just taken the flat over the florist’s?”
“No,you nincompoop,Prada is an Italian Fashion Company”.
“I think Prada would make a good name for a cat or Prado if he was a male cat.What do you think,Emile?Would you like to be called Prado?”
“Definitely not.” miaowed Emile loudly.”Prado is too full of consonants for me.I don’t like saying “P.”
“He sayeth not P but doeth it,just as the Prophet foretold” Stan murmured merrily to Annie.
“What are you doing?” she asked him pointedly.
“I’m choosing an Evening Class but there are not many on offer.I wanted to learn Pilates but maybe I’m too old and stiff!”
“We could go to a private class in the Conservative Club.”
“I can’t go in there,not even to learn Pilates.”
The doorbell rang.It was their local M.P. Andy Pandy.What a shock.
“Good evening,Sir.”
“It’s only 10 am,”Stan said rudely.”Wait I want to record your words.”
“Why is that?”
“I may be able to sell them on-line.”
“Oh,no.That’s unlikely.I’m only a glove puppet!”
“That wasn’t what you said before the Election” Stan whispered to him.
“Well,I didn’t realise then.I thought I was a human being.”
“Like David Cameron?”
“Yes,only I don’t speak as poshly as he.”
“But do you think he is a glove puppet too?”
“Yes,definitely.I’ve seen the Hand that manipulates him.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
“I have thirty children to support.”
“How come you have so many?”
“Oh,it’s quite easy if you have plenty of lovely lady friends and …”
“I’m talking about responsibility.You are a member of the Establishment.”
“Well,once I was a rebel.But a Famous Rebel will eventually be knighted.”
“So I’ve noticed.” {He’s thinking of Sir Michael Jagger who is 68 plus]
“Why was Lucian Freud not knighted?Surely he was a deserving artist.”
“He was more of an Observing Artist.He Observed what he shouldn’t!”
“What was that?”That very large people are beautiful like rocks in canyons and caves.and the Queen looks like an old East Ender.”
“Do you think she’s partly Jewish?”
“Well,everyone in the world has a little Jewish blood!”
“So the Queen does.Does she know?”
“Well it doesn’t matter whether she knows.I’m just interested.After all she’s the Head of the Anglican Church, a branch of Christianity,so as Jesus was 100% Jewish it would be an advantage to her.She might be a distant relation to him.”
“I never knew Jesus was Jewish!” “Oh,yes I remember now.And the shepherds with their flocks….was that not here in England?”
” No and King Herod wasn’t English.Herod’s never been a very popular name anywhere really.But you know everybody in the world is probably slightly English.Just listen to them talk!They all speak the lingo.”
“But what about that song “Jerusalem” by Blake?”

“Was not Jerusalem builded here,in England’s green and pleasant land?”

“He was speaking in symbols or metaphors.”

“Why didn’t he learn English? Cymbals are just for banging.”
“Well, he was English!”
“He was crazy.That’s typical English trait.”
“Yes,we love eccentrics.”
“Do you know any?”
“Not as such,no. But I’d love one if they lived next door”
“Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard that.”
“Well,Annie is a bit eccentric.Stan thought.”She’s murdered her husband and seduced me in front of the wife.No,she’s just got borderline personality disorder.I wonder who invents all these new mental disorders.Maybe I could invent some.”
“Well,the mind doctors need to earn money.”
“True…. send them to Afghanistan.Then we’ll see who has PTSD!”
“Now,there’s a thought!”How about David Cameron for starters?”