Breakfast
Serials of the year with fat milk
Fried weetabix with condemned milk.
Frozen pancakes with lemons and cream
Chinese kippers
Dimpled eggs
Fried pig slices with axel grease.
Rolled bits of pig in tatters
Natural herrings in oats with chips ,fish,,bread and butter and tea.
Free Toast with butter and jam
Tea,coffee,water,whisky etc
French croissants au naturel avec beurre
NHS treatment ring 111 or if dead 999
Starters
Chicken’s tongue on crumpet
Jellied wheels.
Tomato and chess salad
Eggs on sliced rubber genes
Halibut’s eyes on white sliced bread plus buttons
Mains
Wild pigeon with black worried sauce
Roast dead hen with drum roll
Molluscs reviled with spasms of sliced red onion
Vegetarian rather chilly,offers open.
Cow’s heels a la mock turtle with potato scrumplings
Hot dark brown wolf pudding with flesh tripe
Puddings
Lemon mice
Errings with thick yellow cream
Chocolate black-mange
Oranges with bitter peel and cream teeth
Apple and Bloomsbury Tarts with ices.
Treacle hearts.
Steamed sponges with soap
Icy marmalade cake plus my wife baked
How my heart howls
How my heart growls
How ‘s my heart’s bowels?
A new blug starting next creak
Don’t kiss it.
This may change your wife.
Keep your eyes groping
Enjoy it or I’ll loot you.
I am fired from life.
I am out of my bed today.
If you like my writing read more on your lap.
If you like my wit say what?
I am so clever I am abnormal and will soon expire.See my date stamp in the British Nuisance-eum
Poetry for mating
How to separate egos.
How to risk egg whites
How to beat legs
How to break snow-flakes in.
Poetry idioting.
Novel whitening.
How to love a pan in slow motion.
Non-fiction indicting.
Science friction
Love for women and other non humans.
Out of space and non terrestrial novels
Write bitter in 5 days or we’ll send your honey black
Guide to crammer
Henry 8th and Thomas’ Grammar.
Catch your own men out.
Bowl over yarn.Knit him yourself
Children’s lures.
Verses and chimes.
Clocks: their use and misuse
Bed-line stories of the day.
News from Jerusalem:Ban selling wives. We’ve had enough rubble.
Nervous breakdowns: the solution to many problems
Why not try marital counterpoint?
Has harmony a place in this penury?
I’m out of sorts and into parts
I’m out of sense and into hearts
I’m out of sorts and never start
I wish I’d baked a courgette tart.
The weather is a ghastly farce
If this is April,I’m on Mars.
The rain it raineth every day
I wonder when we’ll make some hay.
I’m out of sorts and into spares
I’m out of mind and into cares.
I’m out of sorts and hurt and tired
If I’m the boss then I am fired
At housework,I am liable
To be unreliable.
At suggestions I am liable
To be pliable.
At wishes I am liable
To be undeniable.
At clothes, I am liable
To rely on ’em.
At reading I am liable
To avoid the Bible.
In distress I am liable
To be inconsolable.
liable
| synonyms: | responsible, legally responsible, accountable, answerable,chargeable, blameworthy, at fault, culpable, subject, guilty, faulty,censurable
“he held the defendants liable for negligence”
|
| antonyms: | exempt, unaccountable |
| synonyms: | likely, inclined, tending, disposed, apt, predisposed, prone, given;
informalon the cards
“my income is liable to fluctuate wildly”
|
| antonyms: | unlikely |
| synonyms: | exposed, open, prone, subject, susceptible, vulnerable, in danger of, at risk of, at the mercy of
“you are more liable to injury when you exercise infrequently”
|
***
BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE
|
Early each spring, Nebraska hosts, along a section of the Platte River, several hundred thousand sandhill cranes. It’s something I wish everyone could see. Don Welch, one of the state’s finest poets, lives under the flyway, and here’s his take on the migration. His most recent book is Gnomes, (Stephen F. Austin State Univ. Press, 2013). With Spring In Our Flesh With spring in our flesh
the cranes come back,
funneling into a north
cold and black.
And we go out to them,
go out into the town,
welcoming them with shouts,
asking them down.
The winter flies away
when the cranes cross.
It falls into the north,
homeward and lost.
Let no one call it back
when the cranes fly,
silver birds, red-capped,
down the long sky.
|
Juxtaposing his three ex-wives made the wealthy man laugh as he compared their appearances and their expressive faces.However it did him no favours as he was now living with only a cat.And occasionally a rat.
This was well known to all except him.He believed he had another wife but it was merely a dress on a coat-hanger.Still,it saved another woman from his destructive “intimacy.”
By juxtaposing his wives, he was showing off.,as each was more beautiful than the last.
Better if they had not agreed to sit side by side on the stage.Even this beauty had nor kept him faithful because as they say,beauty is in the eye of the beholder.Or even in the I of the beholder?And this man had no I at all.
So if you are divorced never allow a man to show you up like this.You are not part of a set of dolls.
: to place side by side (as to compare or contrast)
Darlene has a keen eye for fashion, and she likes to juxtapose vintage pieces with contemporary styles to create new looks.
“ESPN posted an image of poverty outside Havana’s sports stadium last week, to juxtapose the well-kept stadium with the shabby neighborhood around it.” — Carolina Miranda, The Los Angeles Times (latimes.com), 28 Mar. 2016
A back-formation is a word that has come about through the removal of a prefix or a suffix from a longer word. Etymologists think juxtapose is a back-formation that was created when people trimmed down the noun juxtaposition. Historical evidence supports the idea:juxtaposition was showing up in English documents as early as 1654, but juxtapose didn’t appear until 1851. Juxtaposition is itself thought to be a combination of Latin juxta, meaning “near,” and English position.
The work of the artist is to express what is repressed or even to speak the unspoken grief of society. Michael Leunig
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/grief.html
[Butterfly by Mike Flemming]
I am crying today like the willow that weeps
As it stands by the lake with its roots in the deep.
The willow is bowed as it lets itself go.
The deep roots support this tormented flow.
The memories of happiness don’t give me joy
I can’t feel the same way as I did before.
But the peace of his face as he lay as he died
Gives me some comfort and peace new allied
It is hard to let go of a love or a friend
We iake them to the river where all lives must end
But harder,much harder it is to return
To leave them forever,forever to yearn.
The river bank’s steep and I falter again
Shall I go back and die with my man?
But if all of my being desired its own death
I would not be writing or taking in breath.
As caterpillars die in their little cocoons
They turn into butterflies in May and in June>
These hidden forces are there in me too
One day I’ll come back and be someone new.
But there is a discomfort that surrounds grief. It makes even the most well-intentioned people unsure of what to say. And so many of the freshly bereaved end up feeling even more alone. Meghan O’Rourke
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/grief.html
The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing… not healing, not curing… that is a friend who cares. Henri Nouwen
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/grief.html
I didn’t hear you coming,
then you were by my side.
Happiness fills me.
Standing in the garden
looking at red leaves,
I hold your hand gently,
and share the sweetness
of these green leaves,
the distant doves cooing,
the sun dipping to the horizon.
Life is good.
We hear together
the music
of this silence
Blood, blood,wonderful blood..
It’s needed by all those who’re not made of wood.
Blood runs throughout us in arteries and veins.
It may feel quite pleasant when it feeds our forebrains.
Blood,blood sing it again.
Blood for all women and blood for all men.
I’d like to see it on some kind of scan…
As it runs down to my feet and back up to my brain.
Even when we are all asleep in the night
Our blood is still working to keep us alive.
Let us be merry and drink plenty of tea.
Then we won’t run out of the water for wee.
For the kidneys are filters which take out the dross
And it flows down to the bladder till out it gets passed
So the kidneys are partners with our own life blood.
Isn’t that clever and isn’t life good?
How my heart sings 