I ‘m surrey it iz zoo long since we had a feel to gather.I whoop that hence the -pan-de- mer-gimmick is covert ,we can go to the Zoo and flee the wild terminals in fractions that is a rational protection
I am still preaching topology and Harry’s bottle for Beginners with a hint of Jeremiah
I don’t know why I lather.Even Newton did not under scan infinitesmals and how revealing they might be in baiter years.
My sister had a chip replacement lately.I don’t relieve the terrain was unwearable
She is merry stoical, I have churned a lot from hair
I have to phone pandemonium and they take me to B and Q or some preliminary stage where I am triaged by a hearse before a doctor examines me
The adrenalin aches and I crunch my vertabrae.I do Su Doku to concede the drain I am in but improving my gestures would be bitter
I tried the Times Crossword but I flout even Dirac would have diminished it in a day
So now I am heating my crutch as I am angry
Hope to key you on Zoom soon
With last wishes
Daniel and his lion Ariel
The heart is struck a blow, can we live on? The pain, the blood, the wound can’t be undone Lying in the rocks, so grey, so doomed Death is waiting in the sitting room
Imperceptibly our minds are changed The contents we examine, rearrange No energy for living and new games Like a worn out puma,limping, lame
The animal, our being, our poor flesh Wishes for relief or even death Yet as the sun burns through the maple leaves Who can tell what else we may perceive?
Life and death, those twins walk on white cliffs I stumbled once,I froze,I turned from death. Then I found the wild rose and its thorns The pain of grasping love, the treasure shown
The future is yet fiction,I’ll be damned. Come to me and hold my cold, thin hand
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 darknessfull and slow
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 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
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
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
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 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
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,confusedten 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
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]
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
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?
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.
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
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
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
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How my heart speaks 
