Day: Apr 11, 2026

Their lover wants a burglar to alarm

How sad I think of washing the bed sheets
When my partner  holds me in his arms
Instead of kissing me  he   might well shout

Do I get more pleasure as I sleep
Dreaming of a Bendix  and its charms~
How sad I think of washing the bed sheets

Even grown up men are seen to weep
Their lover wants a burglar to alarm
Instead of kissing her , he  might well shriek

Even when it’s raining cats and sleet
Women  hang their washing  in the yard
How sad I think of washing all the  sheets

When we marry we  don’t know these weights
The world sits on  our backs quite unadorned
Instead of kissing  him,she  might well shriek

Now romance  cannot last, and love  lies lame
Buying houses, babies, what to blame?
Women  are still   fraying mind and  sheets
Instead of kissing lovers ,indiscreet

 

A burning bush

When he in whom you trusted turns malign
Yet does not tell you why this might be so
Just sends you hate mail, crosses boundary lines
This is both a trauma and a blow

Shall I lose myself in thoughtless sin
Devote myself to flesh and lovers wild?
I shall not run to where revenge may win
Nor burn my throat with boiling, putrid bile

Humanity turns backwards does not rush
Returns the evil with a strong, good wish
When God reveals himself, a burning bush
The flames will purify, the heat will kiss

Retaliation may feel very sweet
But hate rebounds and eats us, as is meet

Paint my face with colours light and soft

Let me paint my house with color soft.

Still as snowflakes lying in a drift

Let me paint my house in colours mute

That lovers die I cannot now dispute.

As stark as ghosts are in an empty lift.

The end of life is startling, it is swift.

Death came here and touched his unkissed lips

I am lonely as the lights go out.

I am frightened I won’t know the route

Now my heart is bleeding it is ripped

Lie beside me lover in the moss

Paint my face with colours still and soft

I see you in the mist and I am lost.

What we pay is more than any cost.

Where God’s in hell

The sadness of the television world

Where actors have no character to shar

Where all is flat and perfect but unreal

Where God’s in Hell, and yet it is concealed

The sadness of a toddler with a phone

Eyes near focussed like she is alone

Where she can see a Zoo in Montreal

Or hear hyenas as they make their calls

The sadness as we toss out ancient book

And never teach our children how to cook

The imaged food is perfect in young eyes

But when we live on images, we die The sadness as the screen blinds children’s eyes The sadness as our culture slowly dies

I will soon empty Britain when I’m the prime minister

I promise you that when I am the prime minister I will deport two million asylum seekers in the first month.

And after that it will go up exponentially so I will deport 4 million in the second month eight million then the third month in 16 million in the fourth month

If I continue in the same way how long will it take to completely empty the country?.

After that I will start with the illegal immigrants such as all those descended from the Normans .

Keep Britain empty especially from deserving asylum receivers.

Don’t waste your vote