Day: July 22, 2015

English works to be studied this term

Oliver Kissed by Charles Thickens

Oxford and literary Manscrapes by  a Don.

Jane’s Hair by Harlot Tonte

Cambridge  Pies and other worrying  notions by Hee.Who Nose.

Love and the afterswoon by A Lady of Note.

Yonder the green men pee by Thomas Tardy.

The end of the world was last night by the BBC

The End of that Despair by Graham  Groan

Three men who can gloat  by Pheronomes K Getoff/

Venture to the Wisteria. by Lance Vandermost

Bridesmaids revisited by Evelyn War.

Collected ruins of English poets chosen by Ted Huggins.

Please keep notes at all lectures and keep in a folder till the Last Judgment.

Music:A selection from Chopin intermingled with Gershwin.Wear ear plugs if you like

:

To chastise God

How like a prison is the cubicle

Within  this space my  husband’s life closed down

I hummed and sang in all ways musical

To change his  look  to glad when he did frown.

He spoke but once,of many lovely friends,

He smiled and winked at me ,his own dear wife

And thus his years came to a rich and sanguine end

Without a dash of bitterness or strife.

He went but now I cannot take it in

Was it a dream or am I now alone?

To chastise God is now my bitter sin.

My heart has hardened to a hate filled stone.

Oh,dwell not on the past for it is gone

we mortals  and our suffering goes on.

My state of mind so far has not been mapped.

There was a competition in a poetry magazine to write a sonnet beginning with the line I begin with here

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How like a prison is my cubicle

Within  four walls I feel I am entrapped.

How like a song unsung,unmusical,

My state of mind so far has not been mapped.

Inside my heart I used to have a room

Where space and grace and nature all did dwell.

But then a  new man led me to my doom

The details I shall never wish to tell.

My walls fell down like Jericho of old.

My love became my enemy,my hate.

With rubble my heart filled,alas, not gold.

These cubicles  each write my inner state.

What seems to be outside is found within

True love can never last when lovers sin.

All constraints torment me with the blues.

How like a prison is my cublicle..

An open office split by folding walls,

The cries of co-workers,unmusical,

Upon my pained ears unsweetly fall.

I hear them mutter,cough;I hear them fart,

These sounds soothe not my isolated soul

For though I hear them, well  we are apart.

I see no face nor gesture to console.

And should perchance I need to take a piss

I’m loth as I’ve adapted to my bonds.

An ensuite lavatory would be  true bliss;

And save me frightening ducks on yonder pond.

Yet if not this jail, which jail would I choose?

All constraints torment me with the blues.

The effect of seeing things written down

At the bus stop I often see the same people.Most of them seem to read the Mail or the Sun.I find it amazing how they believe things that are printed there more than they believe in the Bible!Especially popular now are articles attacking foreigners,human rights, people on benefits,people with large families and so on.If I were to say [which I rarely do]

Why do you think they publish newspapers? Is it to give us the facts,to make money or to excite us etc?

Mostly that is a waste of time because people get very upset if you disagree or they just repeat it more and more.But soon they may find their own families affected by these new regulations,About 25 % of the population are suffering from anxiety… so I read i n another newspaper which gave its sourse.No doubt all these articles plus all the health ones do trigger anxiety i many people…

That relates to the idea of preventative medicine.If we all do as we are told and eat right ets then we wll be immortal,they imply.Yet we do know we all must die one day.In fact having just seen someone die it seems more amazing that I am still alive.I know we need to be aware of certain issues but the amount of information we are getting is overwhelming.And studies done using a very small number of people are given  a weight much greater than they deserve.So avoid read ing the wrong newspaper or you may have a nervous breakdown

My sense and nonsense of humor

I used to like making up humorous notions perhaps from the titles of well known plays by Shakespeare and such like.One day one of my readers told me I ought to be writing poetry not this kind of funny stuff.But sometimes it is nice to relax with some weird notions.

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A Stranger’s Plan
Disparate remedies
The Refracted Glass Teacher
The Fly Passed Me.
The Excluded and Elaborated Mysteries of the Hellishly used Fields
Far from the Maddening Cloud
The Wriggler by the Heels
A Group of Ennobled Charms
The Hand of Othello’s Lurcher Bit Me on a Train
Lewd Beyond Ciuring
Poetry Abjured
A Dysphorialic Mission,
The Striving Breathed Not
Life’s Titted Tyrannies
The Heir was Passing Water at the Bridge
A Mere Interlude ng by Our Foibles
Oxford Booksperms impregnate a Library and a Whore!
A Pair of True Lies.
Poems Of The Lost And The Hesitant
The Poor Fruit Of The Ill Covered Tease.
The Return of the Narrative,
The Nomadic Adventures of a Milk Pail
Selected Short Whores
Selected Borings of Jonah‘s Party
The Taut Chores of the Bawdy
The Crooked And Wearing Tales Of Romulus the Tardy
Stories that Bitch and Bark
Stories of Old Western Sex
Tales come out of Old Puzzles
The Three Dogs in the Manger and other Xmas fiction
The Trumpeted stranger.
The Strumpet and Robert’s Voluntary Maiden Overtures
Two on the Blower

.Two for the Price  .of a Bone
Hatch Flu under a Shower…Get Disability Now
True Essences of Males who love and adore.
The Uncharted Tarts of Old Anglia
Under the Screaming Pastic Tree.Who will Lie with Me?
Under the Green We Feel Free to Wee.
The Well-Reloved Woman
Free Sex  Blessed Poems and Other Terser Verse
Free Sexy Males Now
The Withered Farm
The Withered Charms
The Grubs Slanders
The Illustrated Writings Of Thomas Bawdy In Hose And Worse.
Blessings from the Charming Visages

And if you want to make sweet love ,don’t go where we have gone

Down by the House of Commons
My love and I did roam
We were looking for a Monet
To decorate our home

Down by the Palace Gardens
We went a-walking next
As we believed that in that green
It was good to have sex.

We were caught by the police!
My wife was quite displeased.
“Oh,can we plead not guilty ,sir.
We don’t know where we are!”

Down in the court of magistrates
We were accused of sin.
We stood there in the dock
And hoped that we would win

I thought sin was not a crime!
We crossed that narrow line
But in this country there’s a link
Sin and crime are synched!

We asked to go to Westminster
To confess to a Catholic priest.
We could just take a penance

From him or the police

But the judge was feeling lazy
He sentenced us to death.
And we are going to die because
We wandered from the path.

If you want to get a Monet,
Buy a print from Amazon.
And if you want to make sweet love
Don’t go where we have gone.

For safety lies at home

On a mattress of pure foam

Sheets of cotton newly washed

Like wheat we are all thrashed

Po