Day: February 25, 2016

And don’t bark

 

Flock onto the   wooden ark and don’t bark

Was there a shark in the ark?
Block the clover off the lawns… is it bad luck? Oh,f…
Clock your flocks off now with your smartphone
I nicked a way  up the chimney
Rockout or rock in
I knockout slow
I know it like the  stock of my land
Show me the tropes
I know that bore in the mirror
 I know that’s flip but it’s a quip
Go  to  where your feet  stand and stay there.
Know which side your head is shuttered on when you sleep
 He knows it cheaper and terse than the Bible
 A  sadly.knuckled frown groaned its way across his  worn out visage
A fickle sandwich teased her daily.Some days it was buttered………
A wonder  the blunder didn’t  sunder
A Dvorak moment danced to the music of rhyme.

Reader I married him

Hands outstretched across the world

I can’t love you without loving the whole world too.
I can’t open my heart unless everyone can be part.

Wait for me.
I’m not afraid.
Wait for me.
I may be delayed.

I see you in my mind
Smiling, sad and kind.
I can’t love you
Unless I love the lost too.

Give me your hands
Outstretched across the world.
We’re all one
Love has begun

All the wider context losing

576813_10200195473502969_1766090931_nA force far deeper than our anger

Elemental as a storm

Annihilating all before it

Terror brings enraged alarm

This force saying self is threatened

Runs to rise and to protect.

Most murderous when we’re most alarmed .

Rage the enemy detects.

Over-riding other feelings

Depriving of the power to think

Like a nuclear tsunami.

 Disconnecting human links.

Reddened vision,focused,narrow;

Eyes locked onto enemy’s .

All the wider context losing,

Wipes out the good memories.

 Like a mother tiger fighting,

Or the cornered eagle’s force;

We  destroy what we think other,

 Without bitter,pained remorse.

Nature made this to protect us;

Yet our perception can be wrong.

Once the flood of feeling takes us

All reflection seems too long.

To Lucian Freud

The language your forefathers spoke

Dwells in your images.

Faces bleed with feeling.

Bodies rise out like rocks.

Your self-portrait sings

Me,myself.I am.

When God spoke from the burning bush,

You took the flame and ran

I wish I could lie down and die,right here on this floor

 When I saw you waiting in that cafe
I knew you would be mine.
You were handsome, smiling,funny
 You were  impetuously designed.
You looked like men I’d only dreamed about
in all those years before.
I’m so broke up,so broke up;
You don’t love me anymore.
I saw you on the station
As I came from out the train.
You wore an old green parka
To protect you from the rain.
I wanted to be one with you,
to make a Love entire
 But all we did was create pain
Too bad  to be endured
You walked away so quickly,
I could not see you long.
I wished I had a big guitar
To draw you back with song.
I looked at where you disappeared;
What love has loss revealed?
I wish I could just lay down on this floor
And keep my face concealed.
 Railway stations sadden me,
for I know we’ll never meet .
I won’t cry more ,
for tears are running  to my feet.
I walk fast looking straight ahead
past that entrance gate,
I pretend that you have missed your train,
work was running I count from one and one
to a thousand and many more
But I know for sure it’s much too late;
You have closed that heavy door.
You are hiding in a dungeon
You are covered with white steel
But I know you had a heart and you must surely feel.
I lost all my illusions,
And then I lost some more.
I wish I could lay down and die,
Right here on this floor.

What do you think of Nothing?

I gave  full Marx to all  in the philosophy exam.

Then as I was Lenin on the window it opened

and I performed three spiralling French style Revolutions

in front of the entire campus before landing on the lawn.

A miracle…I suffered no injuries though my copy of Kierkegaard

was Trembling in my pocket.

If only Kafka had been there to watch..….

unless he was the black beetle I fell on?

I hope not as he has suffered so much already.

It made Sartre famous.. and look at his women.

Nothing in a skirt ever escaped HIM.

It’s strange to think Simone de Beauvoir never wore jeans

… or indeed trousers of any type.And tights?

Do clothes affect one’s self image?

No doubt Lacan would know all about mirrors

…..if he cared to speak more plainly than before…..

but Lewis Carroll knew more and mewed more

…he loved cats.He was my Mioaw and how!

But would the cat come back if a man called for it?

I’m sure they were tried by the Inquisition…

They were familiar with witches.

It’s a Looking Glass life here.

So it’s the full Montaigne diaries for you

and ten glasses of Spanish brandy for me.

Full Quarks or half sizes sold here cheap

.Apply within .No plastic or quantum cards accepted.

Please do not bask in the sunshine

as a revolution is imminent.

I saw Trotsky on the bus

I myself never read Hegel as such,

being very backward in German

but I did know about the thesis and antithesis.

What would the Euripidean Union have thought of that

or of the Gorgons being revealed again ?

It’s enough to turn us all to stone at once….

it’s the eyes,you see.

Well,I can’t keep Lenin on this Window any longer.

Bring down the curtain as fast as you can

or he will climb out and it will all begin once more

……remember I had the last waltz with you,babe.

I’ll never forget the Siege  when you laid   waste my heart.

I

The shivering menace that we felt but could not see.

Where is the artist who could unfold
The world like Graham Greene,the good ,the bad
The sinful priest who saves a woman’s soul.
The dead, the lost,the starving and the mad?

The shivering menace that we felt but could not see.
Osama bin Laden shot while we sipped Earl Grey tea.
No judge,no court,no jury,no tribunal.
No face,no body,death but not a funeral.
I see the ends of chaos theory, and the forms,
Butterflies’ wings shake gently, creating  storms.
I see orbits of planets changed to squares.
They seem to hint at something not yet here.
In forests of the Congo, secret agents hide,
Where Joseph Conrad thought his hero lost his mind.
The snakes of Eden curl around the trees.
Who can know what strange Satanic God they see?
The Impressionist artists painted flowers full of light,
Where are their shadows,where is now their night?
My impressions. dotted webs with complex geometry,
A world of email,text and  unwinding economies.

Rhyme fun

Quantal rhymes with fundamental;

Mental rhymes with  the word central;

Central rhymes with Oriental;

Orientals  eat  green lentils.

 

This is not a course in logic.

Logic  rhymes with hypnagogic.

Magic oddly rhymes with tragic.

And it nearly rhymes with budget

 

 

Dodge it,  fudge it,fidget,lodge it,

Nudge it,bridge it.edge it,pledge it,

Wedge it,allege it,midget,grudge it.

Splodge it splurge it, whinge it,hedge it.

 

Stan meets another woman

CatsStan had just got back to his lovely  home after a ride on his  mountain bike. Emile had travelled in his special cat seat/basket just in front of Stan as he liked to see the road less traveled should it appear..and he liked purr to encourage Stan to ride further.WhenStan got home to his luxuriously detached yet bijou dwelling he went to the wonderful disappointing cloakroom to wash his paws before putting the kettle on for some tea.
Ah,how peaceful it is here,he thought…,how nice Mary is still at work.
Suddenly, and alarmingly, the door bell rang.There,on the flower bedecked porch,stood a large, beautiful curly haired woman holding Emile in her pretty freckled arms
I believe this is your cat,she said boldly.So he tells me.Why, he even knows the address.
Well,if he’s anyone’s ,he’s mine,Stan admitted uneasily.What has he done now?
Did you not notice he jumped out of his basket?she asked enquiringly.
Well,no,Stan answered furtively..I was getting a bit tired and keen to get home…I forgot my water,
Well,I hope you won’t let him do it again,he could end up absconding,
By the way,I’m called Yvette.
Are you Yvette Cooper,the MP,he enquired wildly.
No, she said,I’m Yvette Hooper,the swan lover.
Do come in for a cup of tea,he said caringly.
I don’t mind if I do,she said,then I can be sure your cat is alright.
Tell me,Stan said,Do you live with a swan?
No,she said,though I do have an old Swan saucepan.
A saucepan is not much company,Stan responded.
Well,at least it never shouts at me!Yvette said quickly.
Have you suffered verbal abuse? Stan said in a kind and supportive voice.
I have, yes.We had a mutual agreement that I could be handcuffed and verbally amused for 3 hours a week.you see we’d read this book,”Fifty shades of grey.”It’s all about human bondageBut my boyfriend thought it was verbal abuse I wanted..As I was upside down I couldn’t tell him of his error.After that things were never the same.
Why did you have the handcuffs?asked Stan calmly.
We were given them for Xmas,she whispered.Also a whip and some rubber gloves.Why the rubber gloves?For washing up of course!
But after being whipped would you feel like washing up?
I don’t know.We split up before we even tried the whip… to be honest,I didn’t want to use it.
Alright, my dear.I understand it all.
Here you are.. drink a nice cup of tea and try these biscuits I made myself they are almond biscuits from my Penguin Jewish cookery book.
Mmmm,delicious,she cried.Are you Jewish,Stan?
No,but why should they have all the best recipes?
A good point… maybe because they had almost the first alphabet so began to write them down before anyone else could.
Not to mention they invented monogamy,a great religion,Freud,Wittgenstein,Einstein,rhinestone
.Give them an accolade. I mean,Jesus Christ!What more do they have to do to be rewarded?
Ascend into heaven?
Make more cheesecakes?
I wonder,said Stan pondering slowly over this issue.

The back door opened and in ran Annie,Stan’s mistress.
She was dressed in soft teal with toning turquoise trainers and she wore a light beige foundation with bright coral lipstick making a subtle contrast to her peachy skin… all by Lam-com of China.

Oh,Anne,have some tea.This is Yvette,she very kindly rescued Emile after he jumped off my bike.
Don’t tell me he can ride a bike now , Anne screamed,showing off a good set of teeth and a long red tongue.
No,I was riding it.Stan told her sensibly.Calm down.
Hello Yvette,Anne said,where do you live?
I live on the top road by the wood.Yvette answered politely, her auburn hair standing up in a mass off curls as she spoke,showing off to good effect her light orange lipstick and burnt sienna eye shadow…in fact it was color from her art materials..
Have you been there long?Anne enquired politely and warmly.
No,only a few weeks..we don’t know anyone..
So you are married?
Yes,my  new husband is in the Police Service… he cleans policemen for special occasions.
I didn’t know anyone did that.Can’t they clean themselves?A self cleaning policeman…or how about putting coat of Teflon on them so they can be wiped with a wet cloth?
It’s up to him,said Yvette.I am a lecturer at Pond’s End Polytechnic.I teach philosophy..
In a poly?
Yes,I have a D.Phil from Oxgridge in the philosophy of science with particular reference to Dirac’s remarks on Wittgenstein.
Do they study such remarks in a poly?
All the students do Philosophy of Science…it’s compulsory.
Stan said,I wish they all did Peace Studies too…
I know,said Yvette kindly..If only we could bring peace but we are descended from the most aggressive primates…why many of them were sado-masochists.Well some were sadists and the rest were masochists I gather.The ones who weren’t died out as they never mated..
Well,I’m not a sadist,said Stan,or at least only to myself!
Do you beat yourself up,the ladies asked.
Just in my mind,he answered judiciously.

So do I thought Yvette.
Let’s have some more tea,called Anne from the hall,I’ll make it.

tea
Anne is my mistress,Stan boasted humbly……
There was little point trying to seduce Yvette now Anne had met her and vice versa.
Yvette was intrigued.That is rare ,for such an old man to have a mistress.
Is a wife not sufficient for you?
A wife is necessary but not sufficient,Stan teased her.
Well,my husband has no mistress, she said unknowingly,
but I have several boyfriends.
How do you get the time?
I have a rota,she chuckled happily.
You seem an intriguing lady.May I have your email address,mobile number and your landline?
Your height and weight too..clothes size and shoes too.What colour is  your nightgown?I beg your pardon.I have got rude with age!
Be quiet ,you little sweetheart.It’s
yvette999@hotmail.com
or diracisme@qmail.com
My phone number is Oh,oh,6666666666666.7777777777777777………………..
That’s irrational,he informed her knowingly.
Have you got an i Pad,she then asked boldly.
No,I’ve not even got a Kindle..do you recommend them.Maybe you could come to ComputersRus with me on Saturday.
No, she said,I’m Jewish.
Are Jews not permitted to visit Computer shops.Some religious edict,is it? he said inquisitively.
It’s the Sabbath,you dimwit,she responded.We don’t shop on the Sabbath but don’t worry I’ll come on Monday with you..you are a charming man.I need as many as I can get.
Why are you deficient in some way?Stan whispered.
No,I’m very proficient and mildly conceited,she admitted modestly.
And I like a good kisser.Are you a good kisser?Can you make out?That’s American for kissing.
Well,maybe you could give me a test,he said manfully,
and if need be you can give me some lessons followed by a total Examination to see if I satisfy you.
Just then Anne came in with fresh tea..
Emile mewed loudly.
What is it.Emile ? Stan asked.
I am jealous because we cats can’t kiss.
Well kissing is neither necessary nor sufficient in the art of love.Rolling about together in some soil is also very nice..
I hope you don’t expect your wife to roll about in soil,said Yvette
questioningly..
Well,I can ask her,Stan said,but her main interest is topology and knitting.She is often very cold in bed.
Can’t you warm her into life;Or buy an electric blanket?
No,she’s hopeless because of a type of Asperger’s syndrome but I love her anyway.
Have you tried a new technique like whipping each other or tying yourself to the bedposts.You can buy handcuffs now in Boots,I hear.
Why some doctors prescribe them on the NHS nowadays
I thought Love was enough, Stan answered
It seems in the UK people are into whips and handcuffs…
Well,count me out,said Stan,I’m more into a careful yet tender study of the skin from the toes right up to to head,followed by gazing into her eyes for ten minutes.
Why ten minutes?asked Yvette.
I can’t wait any longer
Well,you’ll have to practise..she said coyly.
I can practise with him,said Anne virtuously.
Yes,the more the better…he’s getting older so he can’t wait.
He needs satisfaction and love as soon as possible.
The door bell rang,It was handsome Dave the paramedic.
Hi,he said,I was worried as you’ve not called 999 today.I brought a leash and some whips.
I’m Yvette,the woman said.
I’m bisexual,he told her.
That’s a strange name.
Never mind that,give me your email address and phone number
It’s ywoman@love4all.com,she said or 09964321.3333333333333333333…..
If you’d like a non rational phone number email me at
hotcats@hell.com

photo1049 4

Read more freely in the Daily Slur tomorrow….on sale everywhere and making life hell as fast as they can

Another place,another mind

 

From time and place and season I am lost,

Disorientated ,missing tracks well worn.

Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost,

Nor label me with epithets of scorn.

For usual paths lead to the usual place.

The safest way to live and perhaps to die,

But wandering through the woods I find new space

and in wild grasses with the fox I lie.

Through distant trees, I see a way to go

As narrow as a slit in  pale limestone.

I pass in silence as if in deep,deep snow.

My courage rises even as I groan.

Remember when we’re lost ,we may then find

Another way,a place,another mind.