Copyright E.Limbrey 2019

I wish that I could ride a bike again

You are smiling on the pier above the sands
The rippling waves stretch out  like children’s hands
You look so strong I cannot comprehend
Your fatal illness and its grievous end
You were not a patient on dry land
You were living well  and ” feeling grand”
We crossed the road ; I  held   your cold thin hand
I suffered so much torment,would  I mend?
I saw a  fluid shape as dark it pranced
Through the open door  it swiftly danced
Slipped in with the wiles  of  Tudor kings
Hoping   they can  make it on the wing
I learned with grief , it came to take you  back
Across the river wide ,my love, my lack

By Katherine

I’m listening to my body
I don’t know if it lies
I’m listening to my body
That is no surprise
I want someone to touch me
I want to see your eyes
I want someone to touch me
Or something in me dies
I want to  feel your  kisses
As on the bed we lie
I want to feel your kisses
You must wonder why
I’m listening to the sparrows
I never hear them cry
I’m listening to the sparrows
Under a blue sky
I think that I have lost you
Maybe you have died
I think that I have lost you
Who shall be my guide?
Time goes by so slowly
When we feel deprived
Time goes by so slowly
I shall close your eyes

A defiant Boris Johnson [ ah, the poor wee toddler]
will use this weekend’s Tory  [ who is it this weekend?]
conference in Manchester to double [ maths again]
down on his “peoplev parliament” rhetoric, [Ancient Greek]
after a tumultuous week      [you don’t say]
in which he was accused  [go to Confession]
of dangerously            [ could it ever be safely?]
inflaming political tensions. [ do you  mean tendons?]

Downing Street insiders insist  [ to whom]
they have not been blown off course [ it’s those winds  of change]
by the furious condemnation of Johnson’s
repeated use
of the phrase “surrender bill” [Is this a Western?]
to describe the backbench Benn Act. [ a comedy of terrors]

Instead, they claim they will use the [so do I, THE poet]
party conference to drive [what licence!]
home their “Get Brexit  [I prefer porridge]
Done” slogan, launch [ a lifeboat?]
a string of manifesto-friendly policies –  [ manifestly?]
and attack Jeremy Corbyn 
as too weak [ ahaaha]
to lead Britain.

Johnson’s unapologetic stance comes [ plenty of climaxes today]
after           [ it sure does]
 Amber Rudd joined the chorus [ as a contralto]
of condemnation against his aggressive use [ah, men]
of language, saying she was [ like Gd]
“disappointed and stunned”, [ a fine  state]
and warning it could incite
violence against opponents.[ is it not meant to?]

The prime minister still hopes to press ahead  [ he can borrow my steam iron]
with somehow securing a Brexit 
deal in the brief
window remaining be [ can a window be brief or wear briefs?]
before the 17 October European Council
– and push it through parliament, [ come on Sisyphus]
against the backdrop of political turmoil. [get North Sea Oil]

Despite the horror  [ Auschwitz]
with which many Labour MPs
greeted Johnson’s bellicose performance [ ballet to harm]
in the Commons on Wednesday, No 10 still
believes there will be intense pressure  [ torture]
on those MPs who represent leave constituencies [ bad grammar]
to support a deal.[ why can’t it support itself, like I  do

“If we came back with a Deal, [We have one near Dover]
I think there would be real political pressure ;[ not  in my blood]
to really push through: if you’re in a Brexit seat,[what a bum]
do you really want to go into an election  [No]
having rejected Brexit?”  { I shall  eat Weetabix]
the government [Ahahahahahaha]
Source  [what, of the Thames?]
Said. [President of Egypt who made peace with Israel and was shot]

The grass is subtly greener in the wild
The little flowers like jewels attract my eyes
Order is the death wish minimised

An over-tidy house  does not beguile
I like a garden which may bring surprise
The grass is subtly greener in the wild

Poisoned weeds upon the earth  all sprawl
Waiting for assistance ,they soon die
Order is the death wish minimised

The phone is ringing, up these calls shall rise
In the garden I shall find allies
The grass is subtly greener in the wild

 What matters is the substance not the size
See the wren and sparrow upwards fly
Love is  what grows better sorts of life

I found a  little cherry tree  nearby
Blossom in the shrubs,oh,love I cried
The grass is subtly greener in the wild
Love  unordered , appetite for life

This mug was stolen by a man who asled me for water!

https://elemental.medium.com/bring-back-handwriting-its-good-for-your-brain-fe22fe6c81d2

Extract

While longhand communication is more time-consuming and onerous, there’s evidence that people may in some cases lose out when they abandon handwriting for keyboard-generated text.

Psychologists have long understood that personal, emotion-focused writing can help people recognize and come to terms with their feelings. Since the 1980s, studies have found that “the writing cure,” which normally involves writing about one’s feelings every day for 15 to 30 minutes, can lead to measurable physical and mental health benefits. These benefits include everything from lower stress and fewer depression symptoms to improved immune function. And there’s evidence that handwriting may better facilitate this form of therapy than typing.

A commonly cited 1999 study in the Journal of Traumatic Stress found that writing about a stressful life experience by hand, as opposed to typing about it, led to higher levels of self-disclosure and translated to greater therapeutic benefits. It’s possible that these findings may not hold up among people today, many of whom grew up with computers and are more accustomed to expressing themselves via typed text. But experts who study handwriting say there’s reason to believe something is lost when people abandon the pen for the keyboard.

Psychologists have long understood

Doctor my husband has no pulse
Give him  meat.
Do you think he can eat?
Why do you ask?
He seems to be dead
He always was  good at acting
Yes, he played Lady MacBeth once
Did she complain?
Ask him;you think he’s alive
I always try to use CBT and think positively
Anyone who is not God can’t raise the dead
I always suspected CBT was no  good
Tell my husband
He’s dead
Well tell him anyway
You think he might hear  or is it for your benefit?
Who am I to be prayed for?
Well God made all of us
Maybe  She should start over.
You’re a feminist but you’re ok
I dream all night and I sing all day

He said he wants to sew his seeds.
It really needled me.
Sew it seems.
I can’t cut the tie that binds
It must be polyester then
No, it’s Polly O’Hara
How come?
Write to the GuardianI did and I’ve never looked affronted again

I said I don’t like Wagner not do you want a tomato
I said do you  like Brahms not come into my arms
 I said, are you mute not dare you shoot
Would you like a new novel.I hate to grovel

Buy this: £777 or nearest offer.Frame extra.I did it myself .
Copyright 2019

Doctor, my husband has died
Why?
To annoy me.
What did he  do?
He was alive
You mean his existence annoyed you
That plus him demanding his hankies be boiled in a pan
And did you boil the sheets as well?
Doctor have you ever seen pan big enough for a sheet?
A sheet of paper,maybe
Why would one boil paper? We don’t sleep on it
I could boil the Daily Mail
Be cruel and burn it.I did and see how good I look
Will you marry me?
I am your patient
Be more patient and I’ ll  cross you off my list
Why, have you a  list of all your future wives
Now, there’s an idea

Illiterate and obese   my cat is kind
Her fur is clean and shiny,she is groomed
She eats my dinner  then she reads my mind

Shall I shame her,tell her she’ll go blind
Fantasising  while she’s in  my room?
Illiterate and obese, my cat  is kind

She  thinks Boris Johnson has resigned
He will dance but only to his tunes
He steals my dinner, taxing is refined

When in doubt, attack the weak and blind
Tax their indoor bathrooms,feel no gloom
The illiterate and obese, I find more kind

All my words have  vanished,I declined
Trust no other till you’re sure we’re doomed
Don’t taintl my  dreams, I’m paranoid, I mind

Now we’re governed by that Eton loon
He broke the law they’ll purge him very soon
Illiterate and obese, the poor are kind
They saw Jesus Christ   get  sent to Mind

When Britain first was the top dog
Who ruled the world  from a high hog
Who killed the natives  stole their gold
Even had the Middle East on hold
We’ve ruled,   from Eton Grammar School
 They had the accent  still not over-ruled
Went to Oxford to  learn how to debate
All we got left now is   pramfulls,loads of hate
This was the moment the moment sane folk want
Boris Johnson walks the plank
Manners and accent mislead ,confuse
Feeling entitled to gold and  the best pews
This is the moment but who will take the lead?
Where is the decent person Britain needs
Fooled Britiannia,Britons foooled now rave.
Britons ,like Canute, try to rule the waves

I’m a criminal but I’m ok
My name is Boris,I  lie all night
I”m the dictator of the whole UK

This is real, it’s not a Play
My lies are true, so that’s alright
I’m a criminal but I’m ok

I’ve heard of Icarus,wings of clay
But I am cleverer  and I bite
I”m the dictator of the whole UK

I will  never resign like Mrs May
I’m  sent by God, I’ve seen the light
I’m a criminal but I’m ok

The flames are hot, there’s Hell to pay.
I’m an Englishman full of might
And the dictator who never preys

All in all our lives are  trite
I’m convinced that black is white
I’m a criminal but I’m ok
I”m the dictator; who backtopped Eire?

T

Tyranny of the minority. ‘Democracy substitutes election by the incompetent many for appointment by the corrupt few.’ (George Bernard Shaw).