Toilet is a word that’s still non U.
So think of this and ask where is the loo?
For we must not slip down the pole and freeze
Nor be betrayed by knocking of the knees.
Your children  go to Uni, you’re a prole
And semester’s   a nakedly  home goal
Do not let the guests  sit in your lounge
Nor ever use settees when feeling proud.
We called it the couch but we were down
Among the miners, wrong side  of the town
Never eat  your dinner at  midday
Never hold a rosary as you pray.
Do not mention semesters again
Former polytechnics use that name.
And if your son’s at Uni, call it U;
For Uni is apparently non -U.
Remember always  gay means queer as well
Keep your nerve   you may need it in Hell,

Apparently, some people are surprised
The words we speak, the sentences  that bind
Language plays such a big part in our lives

Dedicated writing, like love, thrives,
For most of us contain a living mind
Apparently brilliant people are surprised

The problem’s when a woman is  a wife
When every day, she’s told she must be kind
Language plays such a  strange role in our lives

One day such a woman  takes a knife
And stabs the man who caused her facial lines
Apparently, all humanity’s surprised

So what is it that causes bitter strife?
She forgot to turn the water into wine?
Language plays the fool’s role in our lives

Let some forceless torture be derived
And with a rubber bullet make it plain
Nobody even noticed the surprise.

What if  Abel had got rid of  Cain?
Would we now be living in this pain?
It seems grave people are much less surprised
Language  is what makes us take our lives

I’m in my  very first seminar today
Semesters are ten weeks long. they say
In hall, we have  ten toilets and a lounge
We have our tea at 7 pm, I found.
I have an en-suite bathroom  and  TV
I watch stuff on my iPad , eerily
I am quite short of dough since I ‘ve just got
The latest wiPhone,no my credit’s shot
If I miss my tea, I’ll have  expense
Getting a delivery to this bench
Hey, I’m sitting in the park  it’s going dark
My speech is so non-U , I  must depart.
I never liked  this Uni anway
My girlfriend said she’ll sell me on eBay.
She said we’ll have to move to Lincolnshire
Grimsby is quite cheap, the fish are dire
The Ferry does not go to  Hull  these days
But since we have no car, I cannot wait
The Humber Bridge is where the North begins
We always have hot chips and greasy chins.
We write  more poems up here than you down there
Larkin is my Saviour,  now revered
I write with biros in an old scrapbook
Like Sylvia Plath’s,  a  journal money hooks.
I never write about a  poet here
I’d rather be in  Oxford eating deer.
I did PPE at Magdalen  by the Bridge
Until  my Dad turned up with an old fridge
He said, how do you do it, my dear son?
I never knew what sex was, Mother won!
Did no-one tell you what a wet dream was?
I think I must have  had one on the bus
Or am I just incontinent and mad
I said, just shut your gob, you are mi dad.
And Oxford is not suitable for me
They never use a teapot for our tea,
The profs all sit up there on that big stage
They call them Dons, but I feel quite enraged
For they have better food than we do right down here
The struggle of the workers is made clear.
Hierarchical, the power is  in their minds
As they stroll about Port Meadow speaking rhymes
I never got to swim off Magdalen Bridge
I’m at the Polytecnic  feeling rich.
There we have the blacks and the females
We meet people from Hong Kong and up the Dales.
The teachers eat in the same place as us
Workers re-united by our love.
And racially, the teachers are quite broad
Some are Greek and some live up the road
One is black and some are brown or green
The maths professor is a beauty Queen
We learned about Greek syllogisms last week
And paradigms are shifting as I speak.
As for Zero, it is really hard
The Indians invented it.Good Lord!

Unnecessary cruelness spoils our lives.
Suffering,  quite avoidable, made real
Emanating from unconscious drives

Where is the self that thinks, reflects. decides,
Where the love that makes a sheltering shield?
Unnecessary cruelness spoils our lives

Where the humane feelings that should thrive
Where the strength to contain what we feel?
Unnoticed and unnamed, the tender dies.

The stifling of humanity implies
That psychopaths have   grasped the  steering wheel
Unnecessary cruelness  ruins lives

Before we speak or write, let’s watch our minds
Will our words bring cruelty, will they heal?
Not hearing, caring, tenderness will die.

Love must flow or kindness may congeal
Take notice of the bigot’s fearful zeal.
Unnecessary cruelness spoils our lives.
How control the inner reptile’s drives?

I have been  wondering why the term sin has almost died out in our language and I think  for many of us who were brought up in a very strict version of Christianity it became too painful to think about it.We were made to feel ashamed  of our failures so much so that we abandon the whole idea of sin.We don’t know as children that it is very difficult to live without making mistakes and our emotions run away with us so that we hurt other children….But now looking at the world as it is,maybe it would be better of more adults admitted making dreadful mistakes.And we know  free will may not be as free as we think.But if we accept we do sin then it makes us more tolerant of others around us…If we were perfect it might make us self righteous and judgemental which to me seems a perversion of religion.Yet this is happening  in the world today.

Lichfield Cathedral
The doctor says I am suffering from allusions in poetry.So I am on major fantasisers
I’m a nag-nostic too.I  might relieve God sometimes.He’s a wave and a particle and very light.He comes and goes.Like many men and women may do nowadays
Meanwhile, in the garden, there is mass wisteria.It will be ok in a few weeks when we get cold whether or not.Is this bad?
There is a big depression where we bury the vegetable peelings amongst other things like the dead.And  what the cat catches,
So we are collating the law with a dictionary
The priest says my sins are mortal but not deadly.
I have been text-communicated by the Immigrant in the Vatican
I didn’t realise it was a sin to have sex when your husband has died.
Is a vibrator in itself sinful? Or is it the folk who might use them?
Is it a sin to make them in a factory?I f so the economy will slump…
It’s funny that Boots sell something that could send us to hell for all eternity.I am not referring to their famous face cream though it does remove the top layer of the skin.It is however not enough for those who have cancer especially if it is on your bum.
If Boots sell vibrators surely the Church must see it’s now the norm and does not use birth control which they still ban, so it could be a gracious way of having sex without the need to take the PILL.Still, it does seem odd to imagine that you get married and you both have sex using vibrators.
Not quite a honeymoon especially if you take two vibrators.What, though, if the battery goes flat?What if you forget your adapter for the plug? I suppose you could take it in turns!
It’s like food.We used to do that ourselves once.Now it’s sex.No worry about wasting the weekend in bed whispering in each other’s ears though , do remember not to use one while driving up the M1.I know it’s boring but do you want to be on a video on Twitter? You do! Say no more.
Remember though that you might have an accident involving others.If you are suicidal, please jump off Beachy Head.Do not cause a traffic jam as you will most likely be murdered.And murder is not suicide, is it?You will have injured someone else and that is more unethical than using men , women or vibrators for recreational purposes.
I rest my taste.Or my vase.Or my handbag… BTW is there a vibrator bag? If not, why not become self-employed and start a new business.Different colours and so on.I have no idea about size so an expandable fabric might be good.
When it comes down to it, should we get one free if our partner dies?I would prefer a large soft cat but,hey who am I to judge others? Let   Lords decide if it is cricket!
And if not.We’ll have to put the radio on.

Coat made from combed hairs of 1,000 cats  £7,890 or nearest offer Cash needed
200 books proving Jesus’s father was a Roman Soldier Free to the first comer.Donations received
Fifteen pairs of unworn high-heeled  red shoes  £89.3333333333333
Ten Bibles unused except for killing beetles. Free on donating money to the Samaritans [£20]
T-shirt with slogan Theresa May Fly, Boris My Eye, size 46 Bust with cleavage.
Nightdresses newly ironed.[3] worn but darned exquisitely. £8
Leather trousers size 56 waist.Free to anyone who can get them on or off.Off me that is!
1 Albatross in need of care.Free if you look kind

I am going to marry the postman

As soon as his wife runs away.

It might be tomorrow

What bliss and what horror.

But  it certainly won't be today





I think I shall keep my own name

Despite what the postman might say.

For I've got so used to this

My history's suffused with it.

Post me a prayer for today

In Bedzin and in Krakow they breathed in
What they denied in conscious thought or word.
The ashes of the Jews, the shades of skin

Penetrating lungs so deep within
The dead  unburied mixed, in air secured
In Bedzin and in Krakow, mortal sin.

The nearby people turned to burial urns.
The human dust by  breathing was allured
The ashes of the Jews, the shades of skin.

So  Europe took their human ash within.
A graveyard we became unknown, impure.
In Bedzin and in Krakow, more of sin.

And who they thought destroyed  lived on in them
Controlled their lungs, their hearts  their minds uncured,
The ashes of the Jews,  borne in their skin.

Like a mass communion without words
We ate and breathed the Jews, the gays, unheard
In Bedzin and in Krakow  we walked in
The ashes of the lost, the glades of skin,