Doctor,how can I keep quiet?

Doctor I’ve got logghoreah

I feel worn out but I’m still here.

Can you give me a blue pill,

As those bright green ones made me ill.

Oh,dear lady,I can teach you

If the subject’s not taboo.

If you keep your lips quite still

You ‘ll feel much better,I can tell.

Doctor,how can I keep quiet?

Do you offer a word diet?

Which sentences are too contrived;

Can you keep my brain alive?

Never use an old cliche;

From the ancient,go astray.

Keep you thoughts inside your head.

If you can’t,then go to bed.

Doctor I am not Herr Freud

Yet I see my well trod road.

I seem to always want some man.

And in my bed I can fit one.

Yes I see you often mention

How your body needs attention.

You need love and so do I

But it’s wicked if we try.

Talking ‘s a defence of sorts

Used by folk to control thoughts.

Intellectual word excess

Is your device for happiness.

Yet it does not help your body

To keep on giving testimony.

So throw away your head,my dear

Love a man and lose that fear.

I don’t know that many men;

Maybe I count nine or ten.

Yet I fear they may use me

Merely as the maid at tea.

They may want me to boil their hankies

When what I need is hanky panky.

How can I convert old boys

To make kleenex tissues their first choice?

We don’t learn that when we’re training;

Nor cure depression when it’s raining.

We will have to run a trial.

Drink the oil from this small vial.

What will this oil do to me??

I really need a cup of tea.

Will it increase my libido?

I shall not take it if that’s so.

Why don’t you trust me,my dear lady.

Do you think I’m somewhat shady?

Well,you’re right,we men are lonely

And we look for ladies homely.

Surely you’ve got one somewhere else.

Doctor’s need them for their health.

Yes, but I prefer your form.

How do you like my nice green lawn?

I prefer a sandy desert.

Lawns are so so last resort

Still we’re here so let’s commence.

I have only got five pence.

We have love so do not worry

Do not be in such a hurry

Catholics can’t have concubines

Yet God made them by design.

We must have missed some useful clue

Bow down in worship of my shoe.

When we can afford a pair.

Then I’ll marry not just stare!

Bowdlerise

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bowdlerize

ˈbaʊdlərʌɪz/

verb

verb: bowdlerise

remove material that is considered improper or offensive from (a text or account), especially with the result that the text becomes weaker or less effective.

“a bowdlerized version of the story”

synonyms: expurgate, censor, blue-pencil, cut, edit, redact; More

Origin

mid 19th century: from the name of Dr Thomas Bowdler (1754–1825), who published an expurgated edition of Shakespeare in 1818, + -ize.

Alfred is definitely a male

Alfred is very gentle and so I wondered if he was female.But one day I started crying and he ran to his cat flap and fled.So that will be useful/I’ll sob in bed when he comes home at 3 am.And I have no idea where he goes.

Expatiate and more

1.

I promise to love ,honor and expatiate all night

Until wrath us do part.

2.

I expatiate and I’m ok

I preach all night and sleep all day

3.

I expatiate and therefore I can.

4.

If your man expatiates,have him put to sleep or how about a left hook,sorry, book

5.

In the silver moonlight,expatiate ,my friend.

6.

Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded dustbin?

7,

What’s a wife to me without thee?

8.

I’m getting married in a hawning

I’ll bring, along the bills he’s going to resign

9.

Are you marrying for the right treasons,dear?

10

I ‘m an accident but I don’t mind

Daddy is deaf and mother can’t sign.

11

I said I’d never marry but he was as handsome as a cricketer, and his balls,well what can I say.? He’s a wonderful bowdleriser.If you can’t spell that put burglar instead.

12

I demand the right to spring,your lordship.

13

See if I wear!

14

I have to laugh or else we’d all cry.

Acer

Flowers

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The memory lasts

midsummer days evoke the trancelike past
where children played in joyous, daisied fields
with buttercups so bright the memory lasts
a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.

those stones and leaves and many coloured flowers
were gathered into images that glow
yet later we forget those treasured hours
when for a while we lived in life’s deep flow

we did not look and see,but felt at one
we lived as did the birds high in the trees
now we may write yet experiencing has gone
we look but have no blessed desire to see

to lose ourselves in nature is a joy
which to our adult selves we must restore

In this chant and benediction,

Signs and symbols guide the route.

Love gives the soul her appetite.

Though the night is black and starless,

The inner guide is never careless.

The notes are struck,the tune is played,

Plain melodies are overlaid.

In this chant and benediction,

Healing comes for desolation.

Though the passage way is narrow,

This road is the one to follow.

Struggling through the mud and mire,

We see,in darkness, tongues of fire.

The sacred centre of our life

Is never found without some strife.

Just then, the dark and light combine.

To create a symbol for the mind

Expatiate: a new word to me

Word of the Day : January 19, 2016

expatiate

verb ek-SPAY-shee-ayt

Definition

1 : to move about freely or at will : wander

2 : to speak or write at length or in detail

Examples

“By the time the Song Festival rep finished remarks, the orchestra staff promoted the raffle, and the conductor expatiated, it was 25 minutes into the afternoon before the oboe sounded the tuning A.” — Donald J. Behnke, The Green Valley (Arizona) News and Sun, 25 Jan. 2015

“Humboldt … decided to deliver a series of lectures on the theme of, well, everything. He expatiated on meteorology, geology, plant geography, and ocean currents, as well as on fossils, magnetism, astronomy, human migration, and poetry.” — Elizabeth Kolbert, The New Yorker, 26 Oct. 2015

Did You Know?

The Latin antecedent of expatiate is exspatiari, which combines the prefix ex– (“out of”) withspatiari (“to take a walk”), itself from spatium (“space” or “course”). Exspatiari means “to wander from a course” and, in a figurative sense, “to digress.” But when English speakers began using expatiate in the mid-16th century, we took “wander” to mean simply “to move about freely.” In a similar digression from the original Latin, we began using expatiate in a figurative sense of “to speak at length.” That’s the sense of the word most often used these days, usually in combination with on or upon.

Mary’s needles

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.

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.

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