Archimedes’ pocket calculator in working order but without the pocket. Cleopatra’s nightdress fm [washed and ironed] Aristotle’s chair with footstool and TV remote Abraham’s hat [unworn] Isaac’s laughter [ CD] Euclid’s ruler [plastic] Zeno’s hair [combed] Ten live Greek tortoises with name tags. Book of Numbers [ In Hebrew] Fifty limericks and Wordsworth’s hair [1 only
Job’s watch (automatic)
Isaac’s belt
Eve’s best apron
Eve’s halogen hob (new,other)
Job’s hanky.
Adam’s apple
Recipes from the Bible.
Jezebel’s handbag (goatskin) . Nearly new in good condition apart from scratches from her nails.
King David’s piano plus keys. Sorry no music as scroll unrolled
I went into a coffee bar and asked for a black coffee.They said I was a racist
They said I was stupid for wanting an irrational number of cakes.
I went to Burnt Oak to register my husband’s death.
Then they had the nerve to ask if I wanted him buried or cremated.
I went to the hospital for an X-ray.They said I didn’t look as if I was 18,I should bring my mother.
So I said, with or without the coffin
I wanted a Burning Bush at the funeral but God said he don’t come here anymore.
I offered a lamb chop up as a sacrifice.God said, I may be dead but I’ve not shrunk.
I asked for a toasted beef sandwich but they said it takes too long to toast beef
We went into a car park but it had very few amusements and no grass.No cars either.
We opened the car door with a coat hanger once when we lost the keys.Now with this electronic system, what could we use instead?
I rang my own doorbell last night as I felt so lonesome.Then it fell off the door.So I told myself it was lucky I had come by as I knew how to fix it.It’s just glued on like ethics are on politicians.
I saw a spider in the bath so I told it, it can only have 2 baths a week.
My neighbour gave me a blank look.So I filled it with laughter,
Confronting and coping with uncharted terrains through poetry.
By The EditorsShareCourtesy of Preconscious Eye via Flickr
When major parts of our lives seem to change in a flash, we are reminded that poetry can help us to cope with new realities and assess the unknowns ahead. When we are stepping out into uncharted terrain, alone or together, poetry can capture our emotions. It can share our vulnerabilities and scars, along with our strengths.
Poets are seekers and questioners. They explore the unknown and help to give it shape. The insights and wisdom in the following poems below are hard-won; more often, it is simply the naming of the fear—personal, spiritual, or political—that offers solace, reminding us that
“A new study published in the journal Science looked at results from 11 different experiments involving over 700 subjects and found that the majority of participants reported that it was “unpleasant” to be alone in a room with their thoughts for as few as six minutes. The researchers discovered that most people would rather administer painful electric shocks to themselves than be left alone with their thoughts. This effect was particularly strong for men, who overwhelmingly preferred the shock (64 percent of male participants as compared to 15 percent of female participants).
On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-other wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs he had bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself. Now what will I wear.Stan thought over-anxiously.. People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense. The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few coloured shirts and one light teal colored jacket. He chose a coral coloured shirt and looked in the mirror.. I look wonderful, he thought very humbly. Why has God kept me so youthful? Surely not so I can seduce more women? We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us. More haste,less speed,he conjectured. Or is it, More paste,guests feed? He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush He looked again at his image. His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter. His dark hair looked very full for his age. His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner, Jacob Weissmann. And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown. His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham. As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo! Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely. I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long, If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop. Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.At least I don’t wear make up! Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume? Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.More taste less greed. What does that mean?asked Stan. If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less. Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop. No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered. I want to go high,high. I want to reach the sky. what will I do when my love is away Will I be happy on my own? Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song I’ll try not to sing out of tune! My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you? I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast. Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready At the bus stop there stood Anne their neighbour. Hi,Stan,where are you going. I’m buying sewing needles for Mary. I can lend her some,she shrieked. Well,she has to use special ones nowadays. Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?. Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal. Who is normal? Let’s just assume we will recognize it when we see it,he whispered warningly. This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt. I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone? Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them. Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis, Anne shouted in a fury. No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded. Very true,she replied, As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it. This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse? A goat would be o.k.Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung.. Over the page to Fly.Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick uncannily.Where she bought it was a mystery. At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out, You both look very merry! Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warningly. Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated. Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe? Why? she murmured. I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully. Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested. Your wish is my command he muttered, I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s one elsewhere. He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again. Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus. As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back But we want to go into town,every one howled. There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver. Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here. Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver. He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss. Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress. Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth? I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time. Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea. Hello! said Mary. Did you get my needles,Stan? I’m so sorry,Mary.I ‘ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town. And where is my supper. In the womb of time I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast. But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well. So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were weary and soon ,despite the tea, they were all fast asleep. Like you.
How my heart speaks 