Isolation makes me feel alone

This isolation is not good for me
Unless there is a God,how could it be?

The viruses are not like friends who talk
Yet they can come with you on a walk

Invisible to naked human eyes
Viruses are now akin to spies

Who is watching me as I write this?
I’ve now forgotten who Paul Dirac was

Should I block the camera with white tape?
It might bring me some pleasure,ah, too late

Is it wrong for women to read books
New ideas might make us into freaks

Yesterday was warm but now it snows
I’ve got itchy spots and feel morose

Should I buy merino knickers now?
Should I breed some sheep or just a cow?

Why algebra exists is really queer
If you spot it then you are a seer.

Rings and groups and donuts are germane
Topology has driven me insane

What is small yet makes the gradient clear?
Calculus is like an atmosphere

Did you say Eureka in the bath?
It means you’ve met yourself without the glass

The microphone is faulty I proclaim
Perhaps I’m going deaf, we’re all insane

The phone is complex, perfect and effete
I cannot hear the voices when they speak

I got up in the night and wet my pants
That’s my husband’s ghost, the miscreant!

I had to wash pyjamas every day
4 pairs are enough if you are gay

Trembling with anxiety will circulate your blood

They say we ought to exercise
Walk up and down the stairs
Never use a Lift instead
Despite the tear and wear

I think I’ve found the answer
It’s as simple as can be
Just shake your limbs and head about
While you watch TV

But if you’re very nervous
That will do you good
Trembling with anxiety
Will circulate your blood

Or if you see men following you
Then run until they stop
They might be a fantasy
So do not call a cop

Agitation’s terrible
But even that’s ok
You won’t be able to sit down
Ot even kneel to pray

So have a nervous breakdown
You will live to ninety nine
You may not enjoy it much
But it fits my little rhyme

I suppose the answer is now plain
We have to choose our way
Loose and happy on the sands
Or shivering & trembling all day

When you die the Coffin men
Will thank you if you’r slim
It might be a real nervous breakdown
Is better than many a gym

In the desert grey

I was walking in a desert grey and bleak
All alone, with none to speak or eat
I shuddered when I realised the truth
I was unmarried, pregnant, mere refuse.

Cast out for other failings all unknown
My baby came too soon and I alone
A doctor with no face appeared and said
Your baby died ,I see he’s never fed

He flung my baby on his heap of dead
I lay there in the dirt, red with my blood
I had to leave or I would die of grief
The will to live just stronger than a leaf

I went to see my baby, and he smiled
He was still alive, my love,my child
I took him in my arms, where should we go?
I walked into that darkness full and slow

Swear words are so boring nowadays

Now we’re used to hearing “fuck” and “shit”
What words can we use to let off steam?
Oh, what a twit omitting words like “twat”
However will I have erotic dreams?

Few words are forbidden in our books
Little children learn to swear and scream
On the television, some won’t look
As words like this flow out in lengthy streams

Lady Chatterley, you were the cause
But what will be the affect and effect?
Lawrence, you were eager to enjoy
But who could know what others might detect?

I think I shall say ” sorry” when I rage
Would “lies and curses” draw more to my page?

Before we were dead

Before the referendum
Before I rang 999
When I didn’t know how near the end you were

Before Nigel Farage
Jo Cox
The lies of Michael Gove
Before Boris Johnson’s genes left Turkey

Before Leonard Cohen sang,save the last waltz for me
Before I heard Suzanne
Before you haemmoraged the bathroom into wine
Before you consecrated the bread
Before you were dead

Before by a journalist we were led
Before children said,fuck everything
Before Cohen died
Dylan got the Nobel Prize

Before aspirations were merely for another shag and a new denim hat
Before marriage was for licking each others’ groins
What poems fell dead
And the snow fled
Before the hatred of slow reading came and glued itself to our minds
Then we had the hottest September
In December
And the ice cap floated down the globe
Observed by toads

When you were still alive
And the lawn was unmowed

Cliches for all

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-squeaky-wheel/201306/the-seven-hidden-dangers-brooding-and-ruminating

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times in a very real sense.
Mary dreamed Stan was in heaven enjoying the company of Wittgenstein,Jesus and Pascal , not to mention Lady Jane Grey Ann of Cleves,Juliet,Cleopatra and an angel.
At least at this point in time he can’t sleep with them ,she thought as she woke up.Though did that matter? Can men be faithful and monogamous?
Look at Leonard Cohen.Was he better off flitting from flower to flower? Was he so stunning that women threw themselves at him and he could not resist?Sometimes people are actually afraid of intimacy or feel life is short and want some new experiences.Was he a wolf? It t akes one to know one
It was indeed almost the worst of times when Mary remembered she had no food in the house except cat food for Emile.He was all she had now as her daughter Lyra lived in Australia and Stan was in heaven, she hoped.
Here I am, she thought, pondering unanswerable questions and not looking after myself .It is probably best to err on the side of buying food and going out rather than lying in the bed wondering if life has any inherent meaning. or if we must create our own.
Even discussing that with someone else would be better.But men folk don’t want to discuss serious topics with their lovers.
It was an even worse time when she recalled a man who once loved her leaving her because she asked him if he knew what post-modernism was one night after going to the cinema to see a comedy.She realised then that she would have to play a part,To act like a woman.So far it was but moderately successful owing to her myopic view of life
If only I had kept quiet, she told herself,I could be lying beside him now enjoying a few kisses and hugs and asking him how to light the electric fire.Still ,there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip
Now then, said a loud voice.Stop ruminating and get up. One stitch in time saves nine.
Who are you to say that to me, she called nervously ?
She wondered of stress had driven her round the bend.She had begun reading a book which said mental illness in not an illness like flu.
It is a reaction to bad events and other life strains.
It doesn’t matter who I am,just do as I say, came the answer
Mary recognised the voice.It was her dad who had died when she was 9.
Dad, she called, why are you here now?
Because Jesus told us to love our family, he revealed pleasantly.
Why now after all these years? she persisted.
I have missed you.
I always did have a bad sense of direction,he told her.But do as I say.You won’t recover easily if you never get up.Stan is here but he is busy cleaning the gold cutlery for an angel.
Alright, but I never knew there was cutlery up there, she murmured as she put on her new clothes.She had bought some purple trousers and two new jumpers.One was pink and one was teal.The trousers were exceptionally comfortable being in a last years’ sale by a famous label..She then found some Weetabix in the cupboard and some long life milk.As she drank her tea she admired the acer’s brilliant red leaves.
Almost too bright, she thought.It’s due to the hot September.Plants are affected by their environment and so are we.Especially by bad or hot tempered men and women
Poor people may have more than in the past but they tend to live in the ugliest areas of the town with no gardens nor parks.
And seeing the better off walk by wearing expensive clothes it is surprising there are not even more muggings.
She recalled seeing a man with a Rolex watch and gold earrings on talking on his new iPhone as he wandered through the Mall.I suppose we think everybody else is like us; we don’t mix with very poor or very rich people on the whole.Unless we are one of those two types.
Mary went outside and found a neighbour wheeling in her bins.
Thanks ,Tom, she cried.I wondered who it was.I am very grateful.What is post modernism,by the way?Nobody will tell me.
Emile was watching from the window sill.
I knew it was Tom, he mewed.
But you didn’t tell me,Mary replied.
You didn’t ask.
Tom wandered off ,while Mary admired the autumn trees lining the road.Tom turned back and looked at her but she didn’t notice.
Time for coffee, she muttered and went inside again.She was embroidering a table mat which said “Rumination is for the birds”.Where it had come from was a puzzle.But it may be a good thought

And so say all of us

The eyes see what we fear or what we need

He thought I was an enemy , he said
The eyes see what we fear or what we need
I gave him love,but hate grew there instead

If you need to hate, try someone dead
Do not say cruel words that make us bleed
He thought I was an enemy , he said

Do not dwell where people hate the good
If they curse, it’s best to pay no heed
I gave him love,but hate welled up instead

Emotions mingle, wanton like fresh blood
Let them be till form can be perceived
He thought I was his enemy , he said

Do not confront the paranoid nor mad
The agony of their minds has them deceived
We give them love,but hate wells up instead

Never take such people into bed
Let them run away, they’ll be relieved.
He mistook me for an enemy , he said
I gave him love and care now I feel bad

Confusion is a pool but not a lake

With words. he pulled some in and pushed some out
He wanted love but still encountered doubts
Should he make commitments then feel trapped?
Should he disappear from lovers’ maps?

He joined an online dating site and smiled
His profile photo strong and slightly wild
He got ten ladies asking for a date
Did they want a lover or a mate?

He gazed upon their photos,felt confused
Did he want a wife or perhaps a muse?
He could not bring himself to use the phone
Spent the evening time at home alone

He fell into obsessive thought and dreams
A new friend may be party to a scheme
Could he trust his judgement or their truth
Soon he lost his temper, gnashed his teeth

Should he seek a therapist for aid?
Was his mind withdrawn or in decay?
Should he join a gym or grow a beard?
Was he what they wanted, what they feared?

In the end he thought his life away
He died in bed alone one autumn day
It does not matter deeply what we choose
But life is more important than these clues

Oh,mother

Oh,mother dear wherever have you been
To leave a cat all day is very mean
Emile,I need my freedom now and then
I can’t love Dave but I would like a man
I must go out to buy a handsome coat
Cognac is the colour I love most

Emile cried, whatever do you think
I saw some frogs a-courting in the sink
I was on the draining rack up there
They asked me to avert my amber stare

Are frogs faithful, don’t they just leave spawn?
They are cold towards tadpoles unborn
We saw them by Moss Bank in shallow pools
Mary wonders if all frogs are cruel

Stan came in with his angels right behind
They are tired of heaven, they’ve resigned
Here’s a pin upon which they can dance
Mary was delighted and entranced

Do you need a dinner now you’ve died?
I wouldn’t mind a steak, the old man sighed
Some buttered new potatoes and a fool
Rhubarb or vanilla would be cool

I have done no shopping, Mary cried
I have no money for the food you like
Shall I get a pizza, fish and chips
That will put some colour in your lips

I am only joking, Stanley said
I shall merely visit you in bed
Emile wept with joy to see his Dad
What a spirit, is he going mad?

In came Annie in her long green coat
Her eyes were black and scratched was her throat
I fell into the Croal when eating chips
See the bruises on my purple lips

Never walk on water,Mary screeched
Even when you cross all Southport Beach
Stay away from danger,I’ll ring Dave
He will dress your bruises with his gauze

Annie did not tell them all the truth
She had fallen off the sloping roof

She tried to smother me

I dreamed she tried to smother me one night
I had had suspicions with deep roots
I screamed ad yelled and kicked her, as one might

Then she tortured me with brilliant light
As her minions climbed down from the roof
I dreamed she tried to smother me, alive

She looked so ugly, she gave demons fright
I wished I were a donkey kicking hoof
I screamed and yelled,confused ten megabytes

Her muscles strong, her grip was over tight
I tried to crash her laptop, no re- boot
I dreamed she tried to smother me last night

I wished I were a tiger with cruel bite
Or God whose name to angels was a proof
I screamed and shouted 999, please write

She was more sadistic than astute
She gave me pain, this action her debut
I dreamed she tried to cut me off last night
The two pint flask saved tea, my perfect right

New rules for UK residents

1.You must eat exactly one meal a day.This will make you lose weight, stop shopping, save money and wreck the economy.Thin people cough less
2.You must make your phone accessible to the Government. We mean Us. DC and BJ
3.If you commit a crime and are jailed, you will get a meal on alternate days.You may lose weight
So you can slip through the bars!
4.You will wash your undies once a week.Yes, the same pair.Save water, we sold it to Spain
5.Please do not get hunger pings or pangs while in the street or at home
6.If you feel too hungry, you may have a boiled eel on toast cursing you
7.You can be too thin; it is not illegal.
8.You can’t be too rich anymore… the tax man cometh
9.Please sweep your street and eat any pizzas you find
10.Your cat can eat as much as she likes.So you may eat her leftovers
Not the whole tin
11.Do you swear to fix the roof, the whole roof and nothing but the roof?
12.Please do not eat refugees before we count them.Data matters
13.If the pandemic spreads we will put you all in cages.Like in the USA
14.No pretending to be a twin.Not even a tub
15.Lose weight,pray and soon you will be in Heaven.

Wanted: Disguised spies in each street in Britain.No questions in Nothern Ireland
Just take photos.
Pay £7.00 per week plus bonus at Xmas [ £2.00]

Your Government UK

The personality of trees

Trees lean over,watchful as we meet
The tall ones do not shiver in the breeze
Trees can hear the torment in our speech

We have flowering cherry in our street
But mine died like my lover with great ease
Trees lean over listening as we meet

The tree won’t bend too close, it will not reach
As panic,worry, horror,nightmares squeeze
Trees discern the music in our squeaks

Alas, no tree has mastered human speech
But when they can, they coax the honey bees
Trees lean over sweetly as we meet

The leaves will rustle,wrestle and may tease
Smile for selfies,what’s the word, it’s cheese
Trees lean over, wonder, and conceive
Yet trees hate noone, nor do they believe

Virtue rendered void

Envy poison, friend of vicious hate
We know Cain for he still lives within
Society is built on hellish states

If not so, how can we lay love waste
When time is short, why cut it down with sin?
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate

Do not hide it, saying this is “fate”
Through brilliant Sylvia,Ted asked spirits in
Marriage too is built on awful states

Only with her death, did he relate
One had to go to let the other win
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate

We suffer when we think that we need fame
All paper one day ends up in a bin
Society too is built on loveless states

Comparison and judgment are no game
Virtue rendered void, our hearts are lame
Envy, poison, friend of vicious hate
Can society be built on other states?

The strange world of Stan

Art by Katherine

While Mary boiled the kettle in the new greenish blue painted kitchen,Stan smacked his thick red lips.
“I thought we said, we’d have no more corporal punishment,” she murmured loudly.”
Why did you smack your lips just now?”
“Well,I can hardly smack yours” he said politely
“But we said no more smacking at all yesterday”
“I just like the noise” he confessed, turning as red as a stalk of ripe rhubarb.
“Sado-masochism may be fun, but after reading,Fifty Glades of Fray,I thought we said we’d abandon it”
“Well,why don’t we abandon ourselves to our bodies or divine providence?” he answered curiously.
“I am unsure if one can do that on purpose or if it just happens whilst doing something else.”
“Elser than what?”
“I dunno” the Oxgrudge educated woman replied sheepishly .
“The Government didn’t give you a three year research grant so you’d say,I dunno” Stan told his slender and silver haired wife and lover.
“Well,that’s their problem.Three years studying Searat’s equation did nothing for my spoken English” the brilliantly brained brown haired and eyed bonny bosomed beauty told him shrewdly.
“Well,are there rats in the sea?
“I dunno”
“So who wrote the equation?” Stan asked her.Immediately in a peevish tone
the door bell rang.
“Hello,Mary,It’s me” cried Annie their naughty neighbor and man magnet
“No,it’s not”
“What do you mean?”
“You never invented Searat’s equation”
“Pardon me for living,”Annie answered rudely.
”I prefer peeling potatoes to this noisy argument.”
“I never knew potatoes pealed”
“Yes,it’s like little bells ringing” Mary informed her kindly
Oh,for God’s sake,”Stan shouted quietly,”that’s Emile’s bell ringing so the birds can escape from him”
The women went red all over with shame.Annie ran into the kitchen and poured a bucket of cold water over her head.
It’s this hot weather;it’s too much.I need a man now!I am mad with desire.
No,it’s just that mid life madness coming too late,she told herself gently
It’s too hot to make love anyway.
Why you must be getting old,she remarked to herself confidently
Heat never turned you off before.Why you once said you’d lie down in the road and sleep with the next man who passed by.
Unfortunately he passed by on the other side,just like in the Bible.
But in my case no Samaritan came to my aid.
“Am I having a mental breakdown/” she shouted pensively
“No,it’s me” Stan told her,I am trying to stop Mary smacking her lips but it is hard work. and it has create a bad atmosphere.”
“Is it wrong to smack your own lips?Can you morally smack someone else’s?” Annie said wonderingly
“Why do you ask me that?”
“Well,it seems lots of things are wrong if one does them alone but are moral if you do it with someone else or to someone one else”
“I just have no idea what you are talking about,”Mary called valiantly.
“Make me some tea.My lips are parched!”she continued
“No wonder,”said Stan vivaciously
Well,thought Emile,I am glad cats have no lips.That’s one thing less to worry about.
He sat up and drank some tea from his china saucer
Stan and the ladies sat quietly on the patio watching the birds flying about.
“Do birds ever get obese?”Mary asked.But answer came there none.
Night fell and they all went to bed together,Emile says there is safety in numbers and I find thirty is a safe number to share my bed.I write 30 on a postcard and pop it under my pillow.With my dentures and my hanky and four mobile phones
I seem to manage the night.

And so shout all of us

I made this from a photo

I’ve got migraine in my heart

I’ve got migraine in my heart
Spasms of grief constrain the flow
The poor go down and the rich depart

I just looked at my shopping cart
The tower blocks lean, the street lights glow
I’ve got migraine in my heart

I’ve got eggs and milk and tarts
The poor can’t sleep and their children snore
The poor go down and the rich depart

The teachers wish their work could start
The benefits system overflows
I felt pandemonium in my heart

In the sky are UFO’s
Where they go to I may know
I’ve got migraine in my heart
The poor downtrodden, oh, damn you Marx

Wandering

I walked,I stumbled where I’d never been
No friend nor ally guided me nor could
In the mesmerising sharp pain of my grief

Wandering like an outcast , never queen
Reason was no aid in that dead wood
I wandered through the shadows of my dreams

I felt the ground beneath me swirl and seethe
As if to kill me too or spill my blood
In the desolate place of darkness deep

Rosemary,remembrance, flowering wreaths
Inside the heart will mercy come to flood?
I wandered where to love would be obscene

But in the arctic wastes , surprised by god
In late winter trees will start bud
I wandered on until my heart revived
From that place of peril came new life

God, at last

Human sacrifice had disappeared
Would God bring it back to strike with fear
The hearts of children washed in Jesus’ blood
His heart so sacred died, does that sound good?

Why stress the Cross, the crown of thorns, the fear
As if God is a sadist, cold yet nuclear
Who might wish to propagate this myth?
In Eden dwell to hear the snakes that hiss

Jesus, kind and brave, had no cruel wish
To feed a crowd he conjured loaves and fish
He walked on water, perhaps he loved to tease
No Caesar he, his stories were decrees.

And in the night, he wept but never cursed
God, at last, knew humans at their worst

The pleasure of Confession

Pray Father,I jave no sins to confess.What is the most common sin you hear about?

Hurting the feelings of loved ones or strangers by projecting our ill will into them and

then attacking them.

How about adultery?

Is that a proposal?

You naughty little animal!You know what I mean.Don’t tease me.I am sensitive but I’m ok.I sleep all night and sin all day.Is adultery common?

It is very common and shows poor taste ,so if you want to be less vulgar leave it out.

I am long past adultery now.I am too stiff for sexual athletics.Though with more

acupuncture,one never knows.Besides I am not married any more.

Surely there is something else wrong you must have done recently? You are only human

To be honest,Father,I believe we are often blind to our faults and we would need to bringsome other people along here to say how we have treated them.And then we’d find out

our sins more easily from them.

Well,there is some truth in that but we only need a random sample of your sins.

One will be a metonym for the rest.

Is that the right word?

Well,if it’s not it’s near enough,my child.

I am older than you;you must know.

I am sorry to say that is not a sin,my dear lady.Try harder.

I suffer from scruples…………… is that bad.?

Very bad.What are they about?

Doubts.

Give them up.Believe you did your best.

How can I be sure?

Well, we are never sure of anything in this life but we it will kill us to brood all day

Well, it does sound selfish when you put it like that

Now, drop that heavy bag of worries and run about the garden

I can’t run but I will have more fun

Now you’ve got it, my child.

Thank you and good night

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