Mobile Stews

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Mobile loans…. spend them before they fly away
Mobile stones…… they may be tortoises or are you the sorcerer’s apprentice?
Mobile bones…..very painful if your skull leaves your head
Mobile gnomes…. they come at night to move your pens,phones,keys etc into new places
Mobile moans…. someone is hurt.Go out and see or ring 999
Mobile combs..I bought 24 and still I can’t find one
Mobile dome…. when the Cathedral is not good enough
Mobile loam….. a bag of compost
Mobile tome….. a large book flung while angry or amused
Mobile gloom….. when bad moods are passed around a group
Mobile tune….. it’s me humming
Mobile news.. ……….pocket radio or an atmosphere covering all the UK with horrible tales about the Government
Mobile shoes…. when I am asleep one crosses my room to annoy me.
Mobile views…….when you keep changing your mind about political events


I’m feeling kinda nothing

Photo by Ryanniel Masucol on

Now I’m feeling kind of numb on this January day
The darkness came down sudden and I feel it’s here to stay
Shall I make some tea and pretend that you are here
I’m naked like the wood underneath that swish venee

I’m feeling kinda nothin’ now the melancholy’s gone
Should I be doing something that will give me, like, some fun?
The silence is not threatening, but neither is it good
Did you ever wish that you weren’t made of flesh and blood?

I’m feeling so damned stupid for falling on my back
My shoulder was in agony and there’s whiplash in my neck
The doctor, he injected me, but he said it’s down to luck
He may have missed the mark, he says,I wish I’d said,oh fec

Apparently the elderly are not in much demand
I heard a sorta whisper as my head went in the sand
We must keep the silence or we’ll frighten off the young
They don’t seem to notice 
but the cat will lick my hand

I didn’t know how old I was till the clock flew off the wall
Isn’t it uncanny what you see before the Fall?

Holiday Monday

Are you feeling amiable today?
The cat plays with the tortoise in the hay
The snails have hidden as it is so warm
They are praying for a thunderstorm

The dog’s tail wags, the beetles do not stay
Busy with their work down in the clay
The children skip and say their ancient rhymes
As once I did myself in Northern grime

The parents try to hide their feelings dark
Hoping for some help, some little spark
Children come back in to have their tea
The ginger cat is suckling progeny.

Back and forth our lives are woven so
Pray that nothing breaks the threads of gold