Going on

com.google.chromeToday was the anniversary of my husband’s funeral.Someone had said she’s stay overnight.When we came home here she said
You don’t want me to stay,do you?
So I said,no
Then they went and I sat here alone,it was very hot.Everything seemed unreal  like a Play.
I kept  thinking it would revert to normal but there is no normal then
Every night my husband came, he clutched my hand and made me run
Run, run, we must find the car, he kept urging me.Unlike in real life I could run in the dream
Round every corner was  another corner,  then another
we never found the car  park
That went on for a month.
After that we spent a week cleaning the cooker together in silence
With steel scourers.
The oven is a womb, the fire that keeps life going
It can be otherwise, of course.Bring death.
Then he told me he had bought me a new house in Ealing
Draw your own conclusions

His  eyes were  silent,still, and very black

The day his mother died he’d cut his arms 
With bits of pointed glass like frosty nails
The blood  had stained his shirt, yet made him calm
He did not like to  make a scene or wail.

The day his mother died he sat alone
Wondering what  to eat or who to call
Above him was hot sky, a blue, blue dome
Below the earth where very soon she’d fall

The day his mother died he hugged his cat
She alone gave comfort without blame

His  eyes were  silent,still and very black
What hope, what help, where is the nameless Name?

The day his mother died he went to sleep
To dream and wander in the deepness deep

I realised  my feelings were absurd

We all  have got the urge to power, to kill
Better go out now and make your will

Jesus was not meek nor was he  mild
God created tigers and  the wild

Why should people fear to say  they’re wrong?
Errors can  arise or come in gangs

I’d like to go to Bournemouth but I can’t
I see the mad profusion   so I’ll skype

I learned to play the cello I loved so
But other plans were made and I let go

The strings were made of gut and they were thick
I played with a long bow, or I could pluck

I did not wish to earn by using words
I realised  my feelings were absurd

I could have written books and  gone abroad
I could have worked at Bletchely breaking codes

I did not realise I was a girl
Despite the  bearing of some golden curls

I liked boys’ games but I am not trans
I like making cakes and washing tins
I liked men to  give warmth to my bed
Although my only true love is now dead
Am I  banned from meeting any more?
They fear my mind and run out of the door.


That we may  injure without knowing so

Like radioactive particles ,like seeds
Dropped in error,dropped in fields of  woe
Misunderstandings grow like torturing weeds

When anyone approaches, make them bleed
Let them know they’re neighbours to a war
With radioactive elements imbued

We may need help for  inner suicide
Will kill us or the helpers  near and far
  Misunderstandings like  a bomb, can bind

We cannot see the other too has needs
That we may  injure without knowing so
With radioactive sharps that  make eyes bleed

 From Moses in his basket in the reeds
To Dayan with his patch and his cigar
Misunderstandings like  real bombs,  will  many wound

In the sky above we see how far
Our broken souls are from the  evening star
Like radioactive metaphors ,like seeds
Errors bring forth agonies that breed





I have a docile phone

I have  a  glow smile phone for dating
I  have  a  snow  wild phone for going up the Pole
I have a no aisle phone when flying
My phone   has slow smile
What’s  up Nile phone,dad?
Not smart, but beguiling: the story of a  loving lady
I’ve lost my phone again.Well, it is quite mobile you know
I’ve lost my mobility and found my senility [ with sense and sensiblility]
I don’t need no iphone.I don’t need no coke.Send me a letter,French is how i poke
Oh,dear what can the matter be, some loon threw an iphone at me
O little town of wall and phones, how we see thee fall down

We  do not want to hear their their poignant calls

Everything is whirling round my mind,
The lack of government ,  the words unkind
That the poor are  short of food and  clothes
We deny it, everybody knows

Sudden gusts of wind  mock  these old trees
Does the  lure of nature  disappear
When  the butterflies have gone away
Yet the stinging wasps are here to stay?

Once tortured  now abandoned refugees
Can’t make phone calls,  have no mental ease
We make our own defences into walls
We  do not want to hear their their poignant calls

Oh,Lord God take the beam from out my eye
I want to know the  worst before I die





I am going to the unoccupied territory

For my holiday, I am going to the unoccupied territory if there  is one

I’d rather stay in bed like Pascal waiting for my vision.

Can’t you see when you get up?

It’s what I see, the kitchen floor, the washing up

Can’t you get help?

Only for writing

That seems odd

I’n in Luck down

I hit my bad hand on a shelf in the fridge

Get rid of it!


The shelf.

I’ll mull  it over




It’s the eyes, the thoughts, the innocence we fear.

The fear of judgement makes life harsh with pain.
The eyes that spy, the words we spoke in vain.
When we age we have a wider  view
We’re not so strange  and not so very new.

The dream of being stuck at school once more.
Where  teachers power extends right to that door
We’re imprisoned to maintain a  safe  society;
Creation from  the young  is jeopardy.

We protect ourselves from children’s  open minds
It’s we who’re frightened and we make the bind.
It’s the eyes, the thoughts, the innocence we fear.
Their assessment of our  very hearts endures.

And they are frightened by the Judge we haul
To destroy or mould the newness of their calls.
Till in a mirrored palace we display
The heads of those who wished to change our ways.

Children need protection from the strong
But we , too, need protection from their songs

Is that an answer or an exclamation?

Will I feel any pain after I undress?
Only shame and bitterness

I want to wear my clothes during surgery
Don’t worry we won’t look at your nude body~
Why not?

Patients  must  not text while they are unconcious in the theatre
Which theatre?

Please leave your wedding ring  with the nurse until you are in recovery
From what?

Please insure your phone before you come for treatment
What will you do  to it?

Anything on your mind?
Is that an answer or an exclamation?

Will I feel better soon?
Once the bomb drops we’ll all feel nothing
You are pessimistic,
It may drop  on the other side of the mountain
Let’s hope the mountain  can take it
I can’t

More on morons


low angle photography of gray castle
Photo by Matt Hardy on Pexels.com


Can you be both a moron and an imbecile?
I can.Not sure about you

Tell me about Poincare, the famous mathematician
He was definitely an imbecile………..
He got his results in  his day dreams
How I envy him.Two for one!
Odd  how the labels are French.But they invented IQ

Alfred Binet portrait

Funny habits

No bikinis allowed on this beach
So  do we bathe nude or what?

You cannot be topless in this  hotel
That is an error, is it grammatical?.We could be.But you would punish us

Please do not go out in pyjamas
OK I’ll take them off!

Please wear a dressing gown   when you  walk about at night
What strange habits you have here.Are you monks?

Breakfast is served from 8 to 10  am
Please may I leave the table?
I  do,generally.

Do you have a hot dinner?
Yes, we  have many curries
I mean hot chips etc
Go to Israel
They invented chips
I just can’t believe it.We had chips before Israel was declared
to be  a state
Oh, potato chips
Are there others?
Silicon chips
Wood chips
Fish ‘n  chips
Computer chips

Stop pulling my leg
I didn’t know it was yours

Why are you a moron?
I’m an imbecile actually
For what?
Deceiving the professors and getting a Ph.D
I didn’t do it on purpose!
Try harder in future