Day: September 30, 2016
The Swan of Tuenela
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Your absence has so distanced us in grief.
I try to feel through dark and distant space
To where you dwell in a so called “heavenly” place.
And you are far from those of us, who care.
Our hearts are dulled with loving thoughts not shared
Your absence has so distanced us in grief.
We can neither share our loss, nor gain relief.
I stare into the spangled sky at night
I see a space devoid of any light.
I feel into the edges of my soul
I sense,somewhere, a partially dismembered whole.
Would new technology ever aid my view,
As I search around for some tiny trace of you?
How can you choose to svanish in the night,
And never ,from then on, be in my sight?
I wish that I’d been there when you went off,
Then I could have told you how I love.d
Shall I never hear again your gentle tenor voice
Enchanting me once more with your sweet choice?
Shall I never find the laces from your shoes,
Floating gently back to earth through these elm trees?
I see more flocks of gracious geese flash by.
Are those your fingers tracing lines right through the sky?
Can you see these same geese from up above?
But you’re on the other side, too far away
I look at all that’s near,as I’m still here.
I know now you’re too far away ,too far away, too far away ,my dear.
I know now that you’re too far away,oh dear.
How can I learn to live with love, not with fear,
As I go on ,now, down these coming empty years?
So sad that you’re not near,not here,not here,my dear,my dear.
Shall I sometimes, in the night pretend,pretend,pretend,pretend,pretend,pretend you are
Oh,that heaven were not so agonisingly .so wickedly too far
So we slide down the escape chute of the years,
Like children clutching close our teddy bears?
And we cross the ghost filled plains of ancient wars
Which cover most of Europe with their scars.
How can I compare my losing one I love
When screaming poppies haunt below , above?
When bones of Jews tortured to their ground
Make the guilt of Europe ever,ever bind
When gypsies ,gays and women big with child
Died unimagined deaths in a Europe so defiled
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The glory and the freshness of a dream.
| W. Wordsworth |
| CCLXXXVII. Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood |
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I hear you brawling now at home
I fear you calling me back home
I hear you brawling now at home
I hear you calling from the foam
I feel blue crawling drunk at home
I hear you polished all the chrome
Oh,dear,he’s been struck by googled stones.
King Lear might fall for our new home.
I hear you call Macbeth in’t gloam.
My gear’s not suited to their home.
I leered at all the men in Rome
I sneered at all his orphaned gnomes
A spear would feel unlike my phone
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Stan makes the tea
Stan was cooking tea that day,
While his wife went out to play.
He cooked a pie of frogs and cress,
He wanted Mary to impress.
While his wife went out to play.
He cooked a pie of frogs and cress,
He wanted Mary to impress.
Stan was wearing his old clothes.
Where old clothes come from,no-one knows.
He meant to change when he was done,
So they could have some fun.
Where old clothes come from,no-one knows.
He meant to change when he was done,
So they could have some fun.
But Anne his mistress rang the bell,
Stan was so surprised he fell.
He hit his head upon the stove,
And his poor scalp turned blue and mauve.
Stan was so surprised he fell.
He hit his head upon the stove,
And his poor scalp turned blue and mauve.
Ring 999 and ask for Dave,
This man is old yet must be saved
The paramedic gave him glue
To stick together his old shoe.
This man is old yet must be saved
The paramedic gave him glue
To stick together his old shoe.
Then he rubbed on arnica..
The head,oh horror, Guernica.
“Get the camera,take a pic.”
Stan was feeling rather sick.
The head,oh horror, Guernica.
“Get the camera,take a pic.”
Stan was feeling rather sick.
“How can you use my wounds as art?
Rest assured I’ll take no part.”
He hit the camera with his stick,
And felled his mistress with a brick.
Rest assured I’ll take no part.”
He hit the camera with his stick,
And felled his mistress with a brick.
So now they’re in a mixed sex ward,
This experience can be shared.
They get their food at 3 am
Half for the ladies,half for the men.
This experience can be shared.
They get their food at 3 am
Half for the ladies,half for the men.
The doctor asked them what went wrong.
Both of them had lost their tongues.
Neither said what they had done!
Now their anger is all gone.
Both of them had lost their tongues.
Neither said what they had done!
Now their anger is all gone.
The moral of my myth is this:
Being unfaithful is not bliss.
Mistresses can be a pain,
Especially if they’re very vain.
Being unfaithful is not bliss.
Mistresses can be a pain,
Especially if they’re very vain.
And better not to look for love,
Except with cats or sweet white doves.
Let your neighbour love you less!
And don’t make comments on her dress.
Except with cats or sweet white doves.
Let your neighbour love you less!
And don’t make comments on her dress.
As for voyeurs,keep a crutch.
Hit them hard, but not too much.
If they want a work of Art,
Tell them home is where to start.
Hit them hard, but not too much.
If they want a work of Art,
Tell them home is where to start.
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Wild Geese
Leaves fly off so suddenly
Small birds float on the wind
Like boats astride a choppy sea.
Their swaying soothes my mind.
Wild geese fly past at dusk again,
They head towards the North.
The holly berries glow in sun,
Nature gives all birth.
I gaze intently at the sky,
The clouds hang dark and low.
If I were too a mere wild goose
I’d know which way to go
But I am left with only words
To find my destination.
Yet words do carry down to us
The wisdom of lost generations
We use old words in unique ways.
We structure them to form
A new design not seen before
A new sentence is born
I send my words with love to you
I hope you safely catch them.
Give me answers from your heart
And I’ll do my best to match them
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Wits on the fiddle:
- As cold as ducks’ bills
As bold as no Will
As told to my Phil.
Was tmould in my pills?
Though old, he still kills
Once cold,I was thrilled 
It fit on her girdle
Bite me for a giggle
Writs on the table
Lit up his dabbles
He gifted his marbles- Without a prayer for the world
Without a hair, there’s no curl
We doubt hares can be hurled
Without a pair of wives pearled
So stout yet she twirled.
Such gout,he pre- paled - A diamond,it’s a laugh
As rhyming ,it’s enough
We lined t’horses by ‘t trough
Our Raymond ,he’s tough
He wryly punned as a bluff
Simon, what a puff! - Suave as a python
Waves on my timeline
Grave as a deacon
Maeve’s on the beacon
As brave as folk leaking
Gave me a tea can - Wake up,I am missing
Get up,I need kissing
Make up @We’re still flossing
Made cuff? from my knitting
Stay top of the listings.
My mop now needs washing
As brave as when dying
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You know you are poor when
You put your ancient fridge in the garden and nobody steals it.
You can’t afford suncream even when you’ve had skin cancer.Since you have to wear Factor 50 all the time,why is it not on prescription?
Ditto two standard lamps with no flexes but perfectly ok for anyone with good eyesight to fit a new flex but nobody has taken them .I may put the lamp shades out and see what happens
You wear your underpants inside out on the second day..no thanks”
You only have a bath once a month
You wash your smalls in the bath with you.
You sing while walking through the town and people throw money at you, except for a few who shout,go back where you came from..That gives me abig choice
You eat on newspaper instead of a plate.Brown paper will do as well.
You stop wearing underclothes altogether.Ony suitable for continent ladies with tiny bosoms
You can’t go out for coffee.
You can’t give people gifts
You can’t afford Xmas card and stamps
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Beautiful colours embraced in the sky
All that morning in the bright sun
The leaves unfolded one by one
The birds sang sweet songs in the holly tree
I felt they were doing it just for me.
In the evening as clouds rolled by
Beautiful colours embraced in the sky
I stopped my tasks and chores to see
A whole new world created just for me
As night came down with her navy blue sky
Outside my window ,I looked up high
I saw the shape of the pale glowing moon
And blackbirds were singing their heart-rending tunes
As I looked up past the holly tree
I knew the whole world was created for me
And if you take a long look up too
Remember the whole world was created for you
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Immense and silent is my empty heart
Inside me is a gap where love once dwelt
Immense and silent ,swallowing all my hopes
A sorrow unacquainted aaks for help
To direct me how to live, not merely cope.
I feel that gripping hand upon my heart
A sorrow in the belly’s pit beside
As he died my anguish made its start
Its heavy desperation pierced my side
While he lived I dwelled inside his shade
Protected and much loved I did not know
That every tree must fall into its glade
Destroying those who live there with its blows
Unprotected from the intense sun
I’ll burn to ash and join my loved one
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Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father?
Pray Father,give me some washing.I’ve got some Wikileaks and a new obsession.
Tell me more,my child.I am feeling bored.
I think someone has been inside my computer.
They can’t be human. so why worry?
Why not,Father?
Well, we are not thin enough to get into the computer.
Ah, they turn themselves into particles and come in with the current..
when it’s high tide.
Do you mean tied?
No,Father.I’ve not been reading that book.Fifty Blades All Gay
Neither have I but in the confessional I’ve heard it all and more.
And how does that make you feel,Father?
Why pay to read a fantasy when you can dream up your own?
Some are born dim… others become dimmer by choice
Well,any sins tonight,my dear?
I’m so sorry.I was planning to tell a lie but I forgot.
There’s a list of sins in the Missal…have you read those?
Yes,I’ve not tried most of them yet… though I just got a slight pang of anger
when a brick fell onto my head from a clear blue sky.
That’s natural anger,my child.but I feel it was odd for a brick to fall like that
Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father.
Not yet but I’m only 97.I must buy a hard hat
Wow,you look much olde than 97 r.Are you longing to diet?
Why, is there no food in heaven?
I wonder who cooks if they eat up food
Maybe they live on manna.
Does God eat food?
That was one topic we never did in the cemetery.
Do you mean the seminary.
At my age, they are all one.
You have reached Nirvana….congratulations.
Well.I’d prefer a cup of tea.
You English!
What are you?
I’m a great Dane.
Did you say a grey Dane.
That too.
Well perk up;the show’s not quite over till the gnat really stings.
Do gnats eat string?
String… it’s my passion.Love it or mate it…get involved.
Live a little.
And for your penance… you must have a bath…
Why?
I don’t like the way you smell.
Well,I am a dog.. we like to sniff.May I borrow your hanky?
Definitely,I shall dry your tears for you and please try to commit few intriguing sins before you come back here.
I’ll wash it for you.And dry it out of doors
Well,it’s not over till that gnat gets its sting and the phone gets a ring
How my heart sings 