Day: April 2, 2016

She broke down

Alice missed her chance to find a man
Her eyes looked inwards as her mind they scanned
But after many lonely  years
She broke down and shed her tears
And then one came and helped her bomb the ban

Don’t duck it

duck-drawing-001

There’s plenty of queued words waiting to rest.
A few too many words and you’ll be a pest.
You’ll  have a good night’s rest after you feel Betty.
There’s no jokes without a liar
Don’t prick your own navel.
Men have had  trouble controlling the organ.So we will play a CD instead on Sundays as it’s the Lord’s Day.
If ill please do not come to the Ball.Stay at home or pay with your  health.
You’ll feel  better after a good knight’s quest.
Never flog your own  knave.
He married her  on a fun day.
A  rolling throne gathers the lost.
A carolling stone reveres the past.
Jonah liked the seaside best.He had no choice.Free holidays and no work.
Noah was always at sea too.Until a dove scolded him.It was called Olive.
As for Daniel he liked Africa where he  was lionised.
Moses liked sunny holidays as he spent 40 years in a   desert and died when  he heard they had to go home.I know the feeling only too hell.
Too many rebukes spoil the atmosphere.
To see or not to see.That is the acid test.
Many bands make light music.A few make it weighty
He wants a  mound of fish.
After he died, I got his tensions.So I writhe a lot to make ends sweet.
Men kept staring at her  until she was read all over.
Why do  women want to discuss  their digits?
A poet of  note,she wrote a few  good comets and starred in the park.
Hark,the Jarrow marchers sang.
Is this  the sand I see before  me? Sinai?
Is this  a Jagger I see before me in Cuba?
Henry 8th had six wives hence Henry 9th will have seven or six and three quarters depending on whether it’s an arithmetic progression or a  proportion.If he has six and three quarters  one must have no head.That fits.That’s maths for you.
Love it or mate with it.
I texted  the Lord.Can I hate it?

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.

If this be love,then let me feel your hate.

If you be true then let me hear your lies.

To save my heart,your message came too late.

And now my need is for the thoughtful wise.

If this be marriage,let me have divorce.

If this be holy,hasten I to hell..

For love comes in its time without such force.

And of its message who are we to tell?

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.

If this be love, I’ll be forever chaste.

Your love is like a blow that breaks my bones

A love that leaves in mouths a bitter taste

.

You do not love yourself and so not me.

Far away from you. I wish to be.

Attempting to define

We are always in Freud’s way
Blocking his vision
Trying to contain,
Attempting to define;
Psychoanalysis is an ungraspable
Over-inflated example of this.
Another hot house product
Is the book itself and its cover

Becoming Freud ;the concepts behind his birth
is part of Yale’s
Lives of  the  Big Boys
which requires  of the author not only
to present  Freud
but  even go off side
to make it “Jewish” as well.
There being no ingenious way,
he  was so far out
around this issue,
Phillips gives Freud’s
Jewishness a conveniently
un-biographical treatment;
At times , so scientific
as to be indeterministic,probably.
You know how we see;
It’s by chance.
No grace in here.Nor will
Don’t miss  slipping it into your pocket.
Or it will all get out.
Dreams are the  messages of the cross.

Stan gets help

IMG_0107

  • Stan was feeling somewhat glum,nay even despairing,on Monday morning.
    Mary had gone to work on her new folding 6 gear bicycle with own basket and an extra basket from Wells-next -the- Sea 1995 [the wicker basket now somewhat gray in hue.]
    He was left at home sorting out all his art work and materials as well as doing the  baking and bathing Emile,the delightful yet trying male cat.
    Sunk in dark misery,Stan sat in an old uncomfortable chair in the darkest part of the room, while Emile snored on the rug by the bright French windows.Stan went through all the possible reasons for his state of mind.Was he guilty about his flings with his alluring next door neighbour Annie?
    Could it be his failure to toilet train Emile? Or his omitting to carry out the penance given by Father Brown after Stan confessed to stealing sweets on the way to Confession in 1956?
    The longer Stan brooded the more reasons he found for his depression.
    He could hardly get up to make a cup of coffee ..even instant seemed too much trouble.Would he even clean his teeth which somehow he’d failed to do?
    The doorbell rang… it was a new cord for his laptop asEmile had been chewing the current one ,and 29 books in a sack from Amazon which his wife must have ordered,as he had no recollection of any such foolish spending.How would they pay the bill on the credit card? he ruminated.
    Later in the day ~Annie peered through the window.She tapped on the glass with her well manicured blue finger nails.Let me in she cried.
    I’m too tired for any hanky panky he murmured lovingly as he ran his fingers through her thick red tresses.What is this delightful perfume,beloved?he questioned her.
    It’s Poison! she replied.Oh no,sorry it’s Iris and Jasmine Eau de toilette from the Bodyshop.
    Despite his lowly sunken state Stan loved this perfume.He sniffed rabidly at her well rounded form.
    Well,shall we have some tea?She enquired.
    Stan sat there hand on chest.
    I’ve been feeling a little gloomy,he muttered.She peered at him
    .You look terribly pale,Stan.Where’s your angina spray?I can’t recall,he said.Oh,here it is in my vest.
    What a strange place to keep it,she responded.
    Mary made pockets for all my vests.at one time you could buy vests with pockets
    She’s good at sewing despite being so clever.In fact she loves doing things with her hands.
    Annie got the GNT spray out and handed it to him.Have you got a pain?
    Well,yes,now you mention it,I do,he replied .
    Well,in the name of God, use the bloody thing,she whispered endearingly into his left ear.
    He opened his mouth,raised his tongue and with his hand resting lightly on his chin he pressed the button with his forefinger.
    His head began to throb.
    Annie appeared with a cup of Earl Grey tea and a biscuit.Why,you look a little better.Do you need another dose?
    No,I feel much better now.I’ve had it before.He drank the tea but didn’t eat the biscuit which he threw out later in crumbs for the field mice in the shed.
    His spirits began to rise.Why did he always forget that physical ailments can worsen a mood?He still felt a trifle glum but nothing a meringue wouldn’t put right.
    OK,what shall I make for Mary’s supper? he enquired.
    You sit there in the window and I’ll just make my special spaghetti,Annie replied gaily,as long as I can stay too.
    Yes,I’ll open some red wine he said youthfully,and we can have fried apples and bananas for pudding with non fat Greek yoghurt.
    What a wise choice she murmured gently into his ear………that will use up some of the newly picked apples,the bananas were from Lidl’s as usual.
    Well,Stan you look better.said Mary happily,You’ve been pale all weekend.Was it Annie who cheered you up,not to put too fine a point on it?
    Actually it was nitroglycerine,he said roguishly,but Annie made me use it.
    But for us women you’d be dead,she replied equably.
    But for you delightful creatures I wouldn’t be here at all,he moaned ecstatically.
    Now then Stan,control yourself she urged,After all we have a visitor,Annie!
    What a hoot,he thought as he twisted spaghetti round his fork in a careless manner splashing tomato sauce all over his new acrylicjumper.
    Thank the Lord for washing machines,Mary said.
    I didn’t know Jesus invented them,Annie said with a tone of mild sarcasm but no-one bothered to reply.
    As told by Emile to the local paper.

Mary wants a library of men

 

 

Mary had a busy morning ironing Emily’s nightdresses whilst the soft furred

cat lay under the table watching her.Eventually she rang BT to enquire whether a 66 per cent increase in the bill was normal when inflation was onlty 3 per cent.Despite her knowledge of quantum theory and dysfunctional analysis she was unable to understand the explanation.Though she did get a slight reduction.As she sat down at the table to fill in the Accounts Book she realised that instead of a pen she had a grapefruit spoon in her right hand.
This is just the end,she told herself.I need to relax.I am all knotted up like a ball of old string.How can I change my life? Alas no ideas came into her mind as she sat staring out of the French windows at the grey November sky.As Stan came back from his walk he saw Mary sitting sobbing by the television.What’s the matter,dearest? he asked her tenderly.It’s all these bills plus the fact that I buy hundreds of pens every year yet can never find one,she said dolefully.
Yes,it’s a bit like the disappearing teaspoons, he said in a reflective tone.I suppose we must accidentally toss them into the kitchen bin when clearing up.I am not surprised so many old folk get paranoia as we like to think somebody else is responsible for the mess we live in.
And,Mary said,I bought a tablet since it’s Black Friday.But after spending ages trying to connect the camera I found it doesn’t have one.
That’s the downside of trying to buy things more cheaply,Stan said wisely.
I suppose it’s a bit like a religion.Everyone is rushing about buying stuff so we feel we should join in,Mary blurted out in a manner unlike her usual detached and affectless mode which she had adopted for her job as a professor of mathematics and state tricks.
I think I’d rather meditate in the church than go shopping for bargains,Stan answered softly.Do you feel we ought to resume our old religion.he asked her curiously.
Well,you’ll have to give up sinning with Annie, she told him with a smile.I know i am a bit lacking in that department but it’s not personal to you.I have never felt much interest in sex except with a film star.Perhaps I should have been a nun.Still I do like sharing my life with you and the cats and even Annie…. and we have our daughters too though where are they now?
Are we keeping this little female cat,Stan asked his wife jovially
.Oh,yes.I have already bought her some nightdresses so she can sleep by your arm at night.I just hope Emile will not be jealous,Mary said anxiously.
Well.I want a female in bed,even if it’s a cat,Stan told her.I just want a bit of affection.And she seems not to be a scratcher
.Emily purred loudly as she had been starving since her owner Jean had moved into a retirement complex where animals were forbidden although they do allow fleas and bed bugs we are told.But who wants to sleep with a bug ? They are unkind and nasty little creatures though God must have had a plan for them.He alone knows what it was.
Annie was standing outside wearing a red corduroy outfit and a purple woollen hat,with matching suede leather boots.She tapped on the window and Mary went to open the back
Would you like some tea,Annie,she asked her politely.
I’d love some.,was the answer.I have made some shortcake with real butter in it and she pulled a large bag of biscuits from her large leopard skin handbag..
Did you make them,Mary enquired courteously.
Yes,I decided to begin to buy fewer things in the shops and use less sugar.Did you know your brain and heart need some fat?
No,said Mary.But I know the brain contains a lot of fat… so we must need it and butter is delicious as well.Maybe I shall make something but I have a lot of ironing with the new cat.
Surely you don’t iron the cat,Annie shouted in horror.
No, it’s just she likes pretty dresses,Mary called.Come here Emily, she carried on.Emily came out from under the table wearing a white denim skirt and a pink blouse…. and a red hat.
How can she climb trees,asked Annie angrily.
Well,all these clothes are machine washable.And she has no shoes on so she can use her claws.Anyway she doesn’t go out much as she hates the cold.I suppose I could get her a goosedown parka… and boots with holes for her claws
I think some jeans would be better, or jeggings.. with a tunic top.How about a headscarf too now it’s winter,Annie murmured softly… cashmere?
What a problem it is for cat owners.Should they put their pets on a fixed allowance or let them spend whatever they like with their own credit card?The two women were soon deep in thought while Stan went and made some nice hot tea.
We all need a man now and then… even if we don’t have one of our own… maybe we can borrow one like we do with library books.Now that seems a good idea.
Stan would be deeply shocked at the thought that he might be avaiable on loan from the library for 3 weeks but it would make him feel wanted and useful and give him an insight into the wild women of Knittingham and their unique ways.And that might help his marriage or at lea

Is there a name for this destruction

Wakening up,remembering.

The rain falls onto the windows like a weeping angel’s tears
Thinking all the time,it was a bargain they wanted
.. not this…….not this… no,no
Is there a name for this destruction
which destroys also those who commit such acts?
A haunted Europe;Britain
the interfering empire,grasping at the world’s wealth,
have made a patchwork out of Eden
Here where man began to be civilised
where we learned to make an aleph bet
and to write on scrolls
where God spoke from the fire
Why is it here that the hate is so strong?
What did we steal from these Arabs
when we bought their oil and made them wealthy
Materially,only; they had the wealth of knowledge and learning;
they who invented the abstractions of mathematics?
How have they become who they are?
And from those learned Jews when we plundered their religion
their Book and their G-d.
Their mystical traditions and learning;
scattered them like dust across the diaspora.
Our rulers and others thieved like starving beggars
and sat watching as they struggled
How can religion be used with such cruelty?
The hate they should feel for the West
is transferred to their neighbours.
The wet eyed and heart weary,the strained and tearless too,
those whose hearts are heavy with
the pain of unsheddable tears
They turn again to the mountain
the steep climb continues
Tears water the path and the cold earth
As we look into the heart of darkness
Hoping for a sign,
Or at least to be ready for a sign….
Those who have eyes to see,let them see

But he said, “I will not ask; I will not put the LORD to the test.

Hello Stan


Stan was outside polishing the brass doorstep.”My,these microfibre cloths are wonderful” he thought exuberantly.Mary was out taking a load of  clothes to the Oxfam Shop.Suddenly he heard a loud cry.,then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head.
“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.
“Just give me a hand” ,he said,
“‘ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten upso.”
“I’ll stretch them for you!”Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a hearty slap.
“For Pete’s sake,Annie” he shouted faintly.”Someone might see that.”,
“There’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered.
“Oh,yes there is!”
It was Dave,the paramedic.He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three of them standing plaintively in the tiny front garden. with their different coloured lids.
“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”
“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan nerdishly.
“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier.
“Jesus Christ!”, said Stan.
“Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name,
“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog! Stan Tan!”
Dave appeared crestfallen,
“Any chairs need mending today?”
“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,” he said to Annie,
“They look like sea shells,”
“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.
“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently.
“No,I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Bhuddist”
“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.
“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.””mistakes don’t matter” he continued idly.
“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’oreal of Paris and New York,lip balm by Yves St Laurent,peach foundation by Lancome also of Paris,toning smokey grey mascara by Max Factor,handbag Annie’s own,deep burgundy 70 denier tights by M&S,Grey pointed ballet slippers by Bally of Switzerland.[also available in black,red and teal].Raspberry lingerie by  M&S the well known Jewish Department Store.
“As I was saying..,”
Dave dived back behind the wheelie bin.
Stan polished the brass and Annie disappeared in a puff of  cigarette smoke.
It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop.
“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave  wondered manfully  as he carried on reading the new life of Emily Dickinson “A loaded gun.
He  had thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter! Or do they?
Sign up here for an online degree in ethics and morals.Price £49 plus VAT

He fell in love with the cat: a short sweet story

Emile in the garden

 

Stan fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.Emile lay across his lap.Emile was so limp he looked like a wet towel casually over the old man’s knees.It was Stan’s birthday but no party had been arranged.He was struck that Mary had not baked a cake..nor even bought one at the Co-op.
That was no surprise really as he did all the cooking including Bakewell tarts and Xmas cake,He was a versatile man who could also mend old radios and fix clocks that were stuck  at one time….mainly the wrong one!
He also spent quite a lot of time giving statistics lessons to pensioners and making love with his blonde and busty  and well dressed mistress,Annie who lived next door.
He decided that being so near her was a big advantage given his age.
Suddenly he was awakened by chuckles and giggles,There were Mary and Annie holding a big iced cake and a pot of tea.The doorbell rang and in came all Stan’s friends from his Art class.Mary produced sandwiches,mini pork pies,sausage rolls and potato cakes.
How did you do this ?,he enquired dazedly.
We did it all in Anne’s oven.She has two so it was quite easy.
Mary was not jealous of Annie for Mary would rather read Principia Mathematica than go to bed with Stan.Apparently she was mildly autistic but she was happy doing maths as many of her co-workers had the same syndrome.
She did have one daughter whom she found hidden in a gooseberry bush in the garden.This was enough for Stan as he was 92.But luckily he did have a good
gold plated pension of £390 per month.
Everyone was having a fabulous time until Anne tried to light the candles on the cake.No matches could be found.
Ring 999,Stan called childishly.Mary obeyed and soon the ambulance drew up.In ran Dave the paramedic.
Is it your chair? he enquired wildly.
No,it’s this cake.We can’t light the candles on it.Shall we douse it in petrol?We have a jerry can full of it in the spare room.
That is very dangerous,he shouted.
Well,we are old now and need the car badly.Risk assessment gave us evens on the odds.Dave produced a silver lighter and lit the candles.Then he conducted them all as they sang,”Happy Birthday” to Stan.Stan managed to blow out 90 candles before passing out on the rug.
Well,at least he didn’t break the chair,Mary said philosophically.
I wish he had,said Dave. I’ ve got some super-glue here.
Well,we do have a wardrobe that’s falling apart.would you like to mend it?
Sure,he replied gratefully.This is why we have the NHS! We are here for you 24/7
Or come to A and E if you get a mouth ulcer or a cold sore.No problem is too small!
Stan came too on the rug with Emile beside him.He gazed deeply into the cat’s green eyes.
I think I’ve fallen in love with you,he informed the cat.
Will you sleep with me and let Mary have your basket.
Are we engaged,said Emile.
Definitely,said Stan.I’ll get you a golden collar with diamonds on it.
When shall we be married?
As soon as it’s legal,Stan answered honestly.
In the meantime,we’ll have to live in sin.
Then he fell asleep again with Emile in his arms.
What a lovely picture, cried the ladies.
Look at this.What a happy sight.
What love,what devotion.
How strange,what a commotion.
They’re in love,what emotion.
Don’t tell the Queen,we need caution.