Flying grass

He’s the type who hits himself on the head with a large wine bottle and then complains abour flying glass.

He’s the sort who swears at women when he’s happy and swears at them when he’s angry.And when he’s depressed he curses at himself which is much worse.

So I said to him,you need a change and he hit ME on the head with an empty bottle and complained t about the splinters getting in his heart.

So I said,you don’t need to break the bottle,just take the cork out.Then he said I was too bold and bright for a woman.

So I put him on the bed and took out his splinters with my tweezers.
I stitched him up completely…he’ll be fine in a few weeks time when the cuts are all healed.
Meanwhile he’s resting in the cat’s basket.And the cat is in bed with me.Well,I thought he was a cat at first…turns out to be my ex… he still had a door key.
He said,what’s going on?There’s a man in a casket.
I said,No, he’s in a basket…
So he said,how big is your cat.
I showed him a photo.
That’s no cat it’s a cheetah,he informed me.
Just like you,I said naughtily
So he took the fence and ran away too sea…I hope it floats.
He ought to join the navy but he wore bottle green.
Why are bottles green,I wonder
And I like blue glass though not in shards.
So now the cat sleeps in a cot with its kittens… and feeds them all on demand and me as well.
That’s a saving grace

She gave him a bowl of discretion and some milk of inhuman kindness
I have the art and he has the craft but do we have the rhyme?
Shalll we abandon our lips? Kissing is not to be scorned/
So it’s all about my face then?
I sleep above the board and my head is underneath the bed.
Absence makes the heart stray yonder.
Advent makes my whole heart ponder
Resolution falters after the facts.
His face was in the hole and his ball was up a tree
His body is still missing apart from his complexion
He keeps his face up his sleeve since he saw a naked woman
Why did Achilles not heal?
The unborn don’t fall down on me!
Factions speak louder than wholes
Fictions speak sounder than truths.
After viewing my own art I need a shrink
After viewing my own heart I need a drink.
If you show me your part I can think.
After suing my own heart I wink
To be rung by the ghoulish is the privilege of the dead honest

Pray Father,give me your guessing.
My guessing!Don’t you mean my blessing.
Oh,probably.Possibly..who knows.
So have you any sins to tell me?
Yes,I broke a glass jug.
Whose was it?
It was mine,Father.
Surely it’s not a sin to break your own jug?
It is if you hit yourself on the head with it!
What made you do that?
I was angry with myself…I had been committing effrontery.
Do you mean adultery?Your main problem seems to be bad language.
No,Father I never say” Fuck”
You just did.
Well I had to do.I had no choice!
That’s what they all say…if only I heard some original sin I’d find life more interesting.
Well,it’s hard to think of anything original to do especially if it has to be a sin too.
You are just not using your creativity.
All right Father,Put your hands up.i’ve got a gun.
Where did you find that?
In my wife’s handbag.
Now we are getting somewhere.. that’s threatening a priest,interfering in your wife’s privacy and stealing a gun.Any other sins?
I could shoot you,I suppose.
No.no!That is going too far.
Shall I slap you?
No… just say something rude to me.
Your sermons are the most boring I have ever heard.
Well,that’s enough…I’ve never been so insulted in my life.
You have been very lucky then… you should hear what people say to me!
Well,you are both ugly and unintelligent.I don’t know how you had the nerve to marry.
I had no choice.She forced me.But I gave in quickly in case she changed her mind.
And you have seven children.
No, they are not all mine,And they are Jewish.
How can they be Jewish.
My wife is Jewish!
I thought she was just a lapsed Catholic.
No,she’s Jewish but not even an arranged marriage could be arranged for her so she used her imagination and decided an overweight ugly Catholic would be grateful for her love,
And are you grateful?
Yes, and so are all her lovers!
Who are they?
The curate is one of them and has two children .. they look just like him too.
And does she want them raised as Jews?
She just let’s them rise naturally and go with the flow.

Do they have to wear hats?
Only in the Synagogue!
Are you Jewish too.
Yes,it’s quite handy as we have Sabbath on Saturday and then we have Sunday on Sunday if you see what I mean.
I never met anyone who practised two religions before.;
Well,I figured it would double my chance of salvation!
Well. I must speak to the Rabbi.For your penance you must give £50 to Homeless at Xmas.
Am I absolved.
If you stay any longer you’ll be dissolved!
Thank you,Father.

And take that gun away.I don’t want it.

I can get you a good price for your cassock.
Why,thank you,my child

Till the end of rhymes,I’ll be loving or unloving you

Until the end of all my rhymes,I’ll be writing you.
Until the day I die,I’ll be unintentionally annoying you.
Older and older,I’ll never leave you,but I will,no doubt, grieve you and
deceive you,misperceive you and misconstrue my meter when I am writing for you and I can’t stop to get the right rhythm
Otherwise I’ll think of you,wink at you and make a hypnotic link to you
For now,my fingers will be all over you..looking for fleas in your clothes, and for for mice in your shoes.
I’ll be looking for tears in your eyes
and making you feel surprised.
Do you speak Estuary English?
Or Frenglish?
You spun me a tale…..
Love your particular detail,like you are male.
You have small hands and feet.
And you can smile.
Love may fail
Though it has no examinations.
Or recriminations
So I’ll stop loving you
And find something more wise to do without you

Your skin glows like red apples in the fall
You are as ripe as the strawberry left from last week’s crop
in the loving hope of being eaten or eating
My yearning heart rises to your yodeling voice and leaps like a cat at the whisper of your name.Shush,… don’t tell!
The evening descends on a great brown eagle’s wings.
What’s a lady?
What a night!
I am becalmed by your woolly hat
that I carry into the twilight
and hold next to my face
to remind me what a swelled head you have..
Even bigger than mine.
It will make a lovely tea cosy..
the hat,not your head.. baby
I am filled with hope that I may be privileged
to dry your tears on my tea towel or on my woow;;.
I have plenty of them peach,blue or cream
As the buttons fall from my winter coat,
it reminds me of your messy yet delightful house..
so I feel happy like a bird in a tree top.
In the hush, I listen for the last purr of the springing cat
that follows me about in my rich and wild fantasy life.
Perchance we dream
My heated heart leaps under my new blue silk bustiere with unmatching slip
and my denim jeans and wool blazer
Gosh, no blouse but I’ll buy one soon if you buy my poetry.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for the route to your secret bed
to be shown on the TV so that we may run as one, hands full of feelings
in search of the glorious pink madness of love
right into your bedroom… don’t fall over the rubbish..
the books and the coathangers, he said
Darling I can’t wait.
I beg you for a kiss..
that’s enough for any woman.. .
Even one glance from your eyes would satisfy me
as much as solving Fermat’s cat’s theorem or caressing your eyelids.
You are my man….I love you like I love wild apricots and anemones.
And moreover you are taller than me…
Congratulations.You are divine to me,
you smell so fresh always.
I always wanted a clean man!Is it too late?
I always tried to be punctual..but punctuality is not lovable,
just an indication of an obsessive link with time
not conducive to relaxing in the arms of Rudolf Valentino
or even Dr Zhivago.
I hope you will take me back where we came from into the Garden of Eden..
I want to give you a big Apple baked in pastry.
Well,how do we end.. writing has no end so I’ll just stop in the midd
or start to begin again

and again

and