Day: May 22, 2017

May turns

Menu

Witches  pee soup
Carrots mangled with beef  consummated in milk
Avocado mash and  tin foiled sausages
Dumplings with sour Queen.
Poisson of the day with chips , tea and dread well scuttered.
Aspirations on a bed of lice with gingerhead
Heart of oak with roast tomatoes and sour dreams

Puddings
Bath sponge with jam horse.
Bath bun with marmalade and buttons
Bath seat with foam and creme de la mer.
Bath cap filled with jellied paracetamol  and whines

Free hot baths only £50 deposit.Non returnable

Embarrassing moments

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I was giving a lecture to a group who, unusually. were mainly school leavers and had no mature students.In a moment of madness, I  had chosen to wear red trousers and a red jumper.If only I had worn red underwear too!
Yes, the zip broke on my trousers.At first, I thought taking a little walk behind the blackboard I could fasten it.. but it was no good So I carried on and in this group of 35 young people, nobody gave the slightest indication they could see anything wrong…..I was impressed by  their kindness
Maybe my lecture was so fascinating they didn’t see
Anyway, red trousers are not a very good idea for a public performance.Be warned!

When everything is just interpretation

The will to live recedes like  turning tide
That rushes back from sands it once flowed on
Hearing politicians hurts my mind

When we may not  judge what’s   true  or lied
When everything is just interpretation
The will to live recedes like  turning tide

The wish to see is not good for the blind
We must accept when vision is outgrown
Hearing politicians hurts the mind

Now there is unrest and love divides
People argue from assumptions most unknown
The will to live recedes like  turning tide

Were the seeds of enmity refined?
Our virtue needs a long gestation
Hearing politicians wounds the mind

We’re numbered,  Jews, for calculations
We don’t count;  manipulation
The will to live recedes like  moon dragged tides
Haring politicians hurts the  mind

Across the suburbs, blossom overblown

A day of travelling to the Testing Zone
The path lab always full of blood and pee
You must not take some others, take your own

Across the suburbs, blossom overblown
Pacifies the pavement, road and me
A day of travelling to the Testing Zone

Undress, bin bag  your clothes,you’re not at home
After scanning, you are clothed anew
You must not steal from others, wear your own

I hear a ghost, as if my loved one groans
Away, you thoughts, I am already blue
After travelling back to my own home

I wish I were an animal alone
Not subject to a doctor’s point of view
You must not ail like others, ail and moan

I wish I were the Queen upon my throne
Or in a bed with Leonard Cohen’s blues
He lived  and he  composed in Testing Zones

I guess it’s either X rays or gurus
We’re grateful that our parts are now un -lewd
A day of travelling to the Testing Zone
I must not hurt the others,a moron

Why were death and suffering a virtue?

Why was cruel torment thought virtue,
Imitating Christ, re-crucified?
Did these holy virgins leave a clue?

Some pierced their own bodies, blood was due
Did that lead to later genocides?
Why was sadomasochism virtue?

I refuse to stand to see that view
But ignorant of the past, I can’t deride
Did the holy bothered have a clue?

Hurting our own bodies, sexual clue
Did they all unknowing, gratify?
Was such sexual torment overblown?

Heretics were burned, their souls were soot
Burnt offerings,  yet again a sacrifice
Such thoughts the Nazis had, they killed the Jews.

Attention seeking Christians deified.
What being is a God thus satisfied?
Why were death and suffering a virtue?
The holiness of sexual love was never known.

Why write in form?

 

 

12595620_f520https://www.poetryfoundation.org/resources/learning/articles/detail/89288

 

“When I ask my students to write formal poetry, I tell them that these may not be their best poems. These are practice, and they are difficult. Most things worth learning are difficult. The masters of art and writing make hard expressions look effortless. We aren’t privy to the years they’ve spent gaining that seemingly tossed-off quality. When we mistake hard-won skill for ineffable and rare genius, we excuse ourselves from attempting to match them, and we lower our sights to something comfortable and more easily attainable.”