Ode to sweat

No longer are the British smelling pure
Deodorants aren’t selling like before
We decided to save our money for the drink
Why clean your teeth when your whole body stinks?

Toothbrushes and combs had some allure
Men might fancy women,fair,demure.
Women don’t like men who sweat and smell
Man made fibres don’t absorb so well

But now we sweat and pong in our velour
Our teeth are yellow. broken,gnashed with fear
Underneath our arms and all below
Our odour is now going with the flow

Yet the shops are selling rubber sheaths
Morning after pills with mourning wreaths
The natural smell of others turns us on
Save the soap and water, love is come

The Value Added Tax is going up
Women exchange tampons for small cups
They see their blood and do not want to pay
For products that are taxed in nasty ways

Maybe we should let our blood flow free
Climbing outside naked on a tree

After makeup

I put on my new lipstick to show my husband who said:
Congratulations, you have found some lipstick exactly the same colour as your own lips

I said on going out: I forgot to comb my hair,he said
It doesn’t make any difference.

He went so fast on the North Circular I finally learned how to fasten my seatbelt
But was that kind of him?

I myself could only drive at 90 mph so I gave up before I killed someone

I went into Boots to buy some Foundation.A lady came up to me saying she didn’t like her complxion
and what did I have on, because that’s what she wanted for herself!
Then at the bus stop someone asked me the name of my lipstick
As I wore none,I felt embarrassed.I should have invented a name

However with time passing and Lockdown I no longer get any compliments
But it seems in the wider world women are having troubles with males acting badly



Love (III) BY GEORGE HERBERT

Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back
                              Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
                             From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
                             If I lacked any thing.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
                             Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
                             I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
                             Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
                             Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
                             My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
                             So I did sit and eat.
Source: George Herbert and the Seventeenth-Century Religious Poets  (W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1978)

There’s a leer in my soup

Waiter, there’s a tear in my soup
How can you tell?
It’s quite clear
I can’t see anything
That’s the whole point

Waiter,my egg is too hard
If it’s boiled I can’t reverse that
What, all this modern science and we can’t soften a hard boiled egg
I could mix some butter into the yolk
I’ve eaten that
You are trying to eat the egg cup!
Is that what it is?
Did you not have any at home?
No, we never ate eggs
Now we know why!


My wife has had a baby
What’s its name?
Aubergine
Why?
It’s purple with crying
Well, it will stop eventually
I hope so.My wife is worn out
So why are you here?
She says after this pain she never wants to make love again
How do you feel about that?
Is it my fault God made the birth canal so narrow?
Well after a few more babies it will get wider
A few more!Can’t the doctor help?
Well, it’s against medical ethics really but he could use a shoe widener
His shoes are too narrow,
I suppose so.
I think it is too big
Well,she will forget when the baby sleeps
Forget what?
What fertilised the egg
And what does that?
Don’t you know?
A spider?
It’s sex
I can’t tell the sex of s spider
No, when you have sex.
But we’ve had it 365 times and only had one baby
Better luck next time


The voyage

We are in  our boat together
Sailing across the bay.
Some have an easy voyage,
The wind is blowing their way.
I wish I could always be sailing
Across a wide ocean with you
And never reach the other side
though it may be in view.
I want to see the sunrise
Across the dappled sea.
The ripples of the water
Reveal a new world to me.
One day this boat will reach the shore
Unless destroyed by storm
And I shall have to leave your arms
Where I have been so warm.
So just before we get there
I wanted you to know
That I shall always love you
No matter where you go

A very tortured Xmas

Mince pies,mince pies, don’t you love pies
Say that you do even though it’s a lie
Cream,cream, don’t add much more
For if you do, you’ll be sick on the floor

Meat,meat, we love our meat
Birds of a feather will keep the house neat
Raisins and currents give some diarrhea
If you’re on codeine. you’ve nothing to fear
Jump over hedges, there’s always some cover
Take a big doll and we’ll think it’s your lover
Never let shyness hold you back when we’re near
For imperfect our love and yet perfect our fear
At Xmas our loved ones will fight like wildcats
Siblings are nastier than any rat
But they have not murdered you yet, I’m sincere
Wash your hair soon and then rinse it with beer
Cain killed his brother, the envy, the spite
Adam and Eve were distraught every night

Procreation was rapid, we soon filled the Earth
How did high culture bring about Hitler’s birth
Can God be omnipotent when millions are killed
Maybe He died and more innocents will
God seems quite dead but he is merely remote
The tree of the cross is alive
and it grows

What is not a map

???????
by Katherine
In the Farm shop

Is your glowing face a map?
are your tender ways a map?
what is not a map?
Is your open smile a map?
Is your deepest groan a map?
what is not a map?
Is my  too sharp touch a map?
Is my too quick glance a map?
what is not a map?

Is this sea green leaf a map,
Is this light red flower a map?
What sort of map is that?
Is the evening sky a map,
Is the silver moon a map?
Of what is that a map?
Is this entire world a map?
Is the sun-soaked sky a map?
Is this tiny child a map?

think I am a map.
Who can learn to read these maps?
Without love we can’t perceive;
Who can teach us how to see?

Can we look beyond the Map?
Can we look into the gap?
Whatever Love perceives
What Love can we recei
ve?