Now the high ups fight about some tapes
Princess Di spoke of her rage and grief
Releasing secrets is akin to rape
If we had no Brexit and some hope
The government would not be such a thief
Wasting time to fight about 1some tapes
What if there were tapes made by a Pope
Would it shatter all Christian belief?
Releasing secrets is a kind of rape
Why can’t we do work that brings us hope
Brings some peace and gives our hearts relief?
Instead, the high ups fight about some tapes
As individuals, we can seek for help
Or do creative acts that we believe
Releasing secrets is a kind of rape
The government’s the habitat of thieves
Into the the river Thames let them be heaved!
Now the Lords and Ladies hear Di’s tapes
Releasing secrets, does it seem like rape?
ate her topside with green peas,she gazed out of the front window where a police car was parked.They had gone to speak to her neighbours.Her neighbours had 23 dogs and a dead cat .all in the back garden for recreation and making holes in fences or other places When Mary had come home from the delightful dentist she had been attacked by 5 of the dogs on her own patio who were bored with their own garden so has made a hole in the fence as was their wont. She sat silentky her mind brooding about animals,and their force, as she ate the last roast potato and wondered if she had a pudding Suddenly a cold wind seemed to blow across the room as Annie her delightful neighbour had run in without closing the back door firmly Hello dear.Put the kettle on for me, Mary ordered Annie I am sorry,Annie said,I have lost weight but even so the kettle won’t fit me Why do you take things so literally,Mary asked? I am trying to be funny, Annie muttered indecisively, her blood red lipstick melting down her chin and dripping onto the floor Good grief, what a mess,Mary said.Hang on, your lips are bleeding I keep biting them,Annie revealed. Why? To stop myself screaming at those people with the dogs.What will you do? Her mascara from Mix Vector in dark brown began to melt and created streaks across her rose beige moisturising foundation from Bess of Arden Are you crying,Mary asked curiously I must be.I have tears in my eyes.I am over-identifing with your feelings. Empathy has its limits,Mary said sweetly>I phoned the police and they came here They were amazed he has 23 dogs.They have gone to see him. How can they afford to feed so many dogs? Oh,I feel faint,ring 999 In ran Dave the bisexual, transvestment paramedic all dressed in tartan Why are the police here, he asked anxiously It’s about the dogs attacking Mary. Shall I make some nice strong tea,Dave asked wisely Good idea, said Annie How is Emile taking this? I’ve sent him to my sister’s for a break,But I miss him Goodness me, what a terrible time you are having They all went into the lounge and sat down on the grey high backed armchairs Here is the tea,Dave cried as he put the tray down on a low table.Don’t let it go cold~ Shall I give them some cake, he asked Mary? Why not, she answered.See what you can find It is very hard if neighbours attack you,Why, I’ve even read about murders at times like this,Dave cried. Let’s see how it goes,Mary said quietly.They are not fools I hope you are right,Dave said wisely Rolling Stones never get mopped Evert cloud has a silver lining~ When glum ,keep mum Ah Amen
Was this the apple then, your mother’s breast Which father thought was his to oft caress? And when, in deprived rage, you bit to test In rage, he vowed to ever you harass.
So then you learned that you could hate as well, The punishment struck hard in your small heart. Your memory was unworded, could not tell; Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart.
As unknown as the journey to your birth As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong. As frightening as the gauging of your worth As sudden as the ending of a song.
Impossible to foretell or to prepare, The ambivalence of our hearts can start just here.
What we pay attention to grows. Whilst our other seeds lie here unsown. The evil tree towers, Over the bankers ill powers. It’s a haven for vultures and crows.
Let us examine our gifts. The race is not all to the swift. We each have our talents With patience to balance Each life is an art made with craft
Mary was sitting feeling quite lonely in the waiting room outside the doctor’s office when she saw Emile hiding under a chair.. What are you doing,she whispered.I’m glad of your company I jumped into your cab, the cheeky cat informed her proudly I want to be there when he examines you. Don’t worry,she answered,they always have a chaperone nowadays. Just then a pretty young black nurse took Mary into a room and said to her Take off your underpants,please! I don’t wear underpants,said Mary,but I can go home and get my husband’s if you want me to. We use underpants as a generic term,the nurse informed her in a kindly yet menacing voice. Wow,they are so intelligent nowadays,I don’t think I knew what generic meant till recently Mary told herself stupidly thinking of the hours she had spent trying to grasp infinitesmally small numbers as they flew by. I have no underpants,Emile mewed.peevishly. No and I am not making you any.I have quite enough washing to do already.Mary responded thoughtlessly yet maturely imagining Emile wearing a three piece suit. It’s not fair, said Emile.All my friends have underpants and T shirts too.Why not me? But the doctor came in and looked nervously at Mary and at her female parts. Mary was used to this but all of a sudden she got a nasty pain when he opened the speculum out Ow,ow,ow,she shrieked,what is that pain I got? It’s ok,said the nurse,just old ladies are not used to this sort of thing. I’ll have you know many older ladies are very used to sexual activity and joy but not when they are unaroused .Besides men’s organs are usually kinder than metal or plastic if and only if the lady is willing.Can’t you put more lubricant on the damned thing The doctor tried to remove the speculum but was clearly agitated. Ouch,cried Mary.Ouch.It hurts still! Thank goodness I didn’t know it would hurt.Do you think we should be shown a romantic arousing film in the waiting room to make it easier for the doctor? We can’t do that,said the nurse.We might be accused of running a brothel. But the doctor is not paying me,said Mary.I am paying him, in a sense,as a taxpayer. You are too clever for me,said the nurse sharply I shall bring a vibrator next time,Mary told her,though she had neYou can’t bring a vibrator or the doctor will be angry as he might be accused of misconduct if you enjoyed yourself, the nurse whispered I thought it was only misconduct if he enjoyed himself,Mary cried loudly He has seen so many ladies, it is just like seeing into a mouth for him,said the nurse churlishly. I expect one gets used to anything in time,Mary murmured,but I hope he will not do that again to me. No, you seem ok,the doctor said,but I seem to imagine I see a cat under the table.What is he doing? I am just keeping an eye on you,mewed Emile.I live with Mary. No animals are allowed in here ,the doctor shouted. A bit late now,mewed the cat.Are you sending for the cat police? Dr.Grey picked up a very large speculum and threatened to strike Emile. Now then,said the nurse, he might scratch my legs.Leave him alone.He’s just protecting her. Fat lot of good he was,Mary thought. The doctor approached Mary and told her she would be seeing a consultant soon… in the meantime should she do anything to prepare… she asked. Well, do try to relax if you can, he told her gently.It is trying for ladies of riper years to attend hospitals but we only want to help you. I’ll have to help myself,Mary thought wryly as she got down off the table and put on her red and purple knickers or “underpants” as they are now referred to as. Thank God,that is over,she whispered to Emile.Let’s run out and get a cab. She hobbled to the door and phoned the taxi firm with her mobile.I just want to get home she told the driver. Don’t we all, he said in an Eton accent.Surely it’s not David Cameron in disguise canvassing patients?Thank God he’s not conducting pelvic exams on them!That would lose him the election whether he was any good or not… in my view,but then what do I know about the British electorate?
Hugh Mann-Beeing USA Miss Anne Thrope -Argentina D.Luded -England D.Mented.- Ireland Isle Loveyet -Ireland Wyse Beyond-Words. -France Miss Cal Culated -Hong Kong Mel Anne Colly- USA Deep Li De-Pressed.-China Parr-Annoyed [Mrs]- England P.Annic Attack – Washington B.Adman- USA Iam Sictodeath- UK Diss Ordered-Mined -UK Piece O’Mined. -Ireland Can-Ned Slurp.-UK Aldous.I.Lessin-Gaza -Palestine Calle M’ Mother -Mixed race or Other Didya Vote-Yet -Geordie Cann Ye-Nacum -Teesside and Jewish Hugh Lost-Face- England Wear Stah-Bin -Lancashire industrial Clara Then-Mudde- Buckingham Palace Amy Goin-T’et Lav- Manchester Pearson-Ally Diss-Order USA or Canada
Doctor,doctor,I;m worried about my coughin’. What about your coffin? Well,it’s keeping me awake at night. Why,are you sleeping in it I have only one place to sleep. If you are tired you can sleep anywhere! is that legal? Of course, it is. Well, can I sleep in the Queen’s bed? In theory,yes… but you might frighten the horses. Why, do they sleep with her?She must have a big bed. Don’t be so ridiculous… Well, she has loads of money; she, could have a bed made for her. She has a bed maid for her Do you mean someone makes her bed every day? well,don’t you make yours every day? No,I bought one in a bed store and it’s well built. But do you change the sheets daily? No,i never use paper I write letters on my chromebook. Which letters? Any letters at all,except French ones. but they use our alphabet. it’s not ours. Whose is it? Possibly the Romans.Tantrum ergo! They are all long gone into their coffins.Uno,duo tres,quattore…,decem,duodecem,duagessin’.. I knew coughin’ was very dangerous I think your grammar is bed. What a posh excent you have It’s all I have left of the old palace. Well, never mind you can share my coffin if you like. But is there a bed in it? Just a bed bug as yet… I blame the CIA.. who do you blame? I blame God and he blames us so it’s pretty much a stalemate. We need the Messiah….. Not again,we’ve not got over the last one yet… You make him sound like a hurdle… Well,it’s one way of looking at it all.. a big hurdle. It’s all this talkin’ keeps me awake at night… At least it stops you coughin’
Doctor,doctor,the coughin’s keeping me up all night again For goodness sake put the lid on it.
Paralysed by dread, my hand was still Afraid to make a mark on that blank page. I thought to make it move by force of will
I measured with my finger joints, [new skill] Then with my charcoal,l I became engaged Tormented by sheer dread, my fingers full
With charcoal, pencil, fountain pen or quill Human down the ages have portrayed I tried to make an image by my will
My body sweated like ten waterfalls well full My eyes gazed and my mind became engaged Touched by dread, my hand moved like a bull.
I’d measured, so I let it rush about unlulled My eyes were pleased with this dramatic page I thought I’d made it move by my own will
And so I am at one with every age Promiscuous is my love but well arranged Paralysed by dread, my hand was still Until desire was stronger than my will
Come back to me, my sweetheart
Don’t leave me all alone.
Come back to me, my darling
I can’t believe you’ ve gone.
I’m crying ‘cos I’m feeling blue again.
I’m crying’cos I’m falling like a stone.
Oh, let me tempt you with my beauty
And my voice forever young.
Let me tempt you with my spirit
My laughter and my songs.
I’m crying ‘cos I never did you wrong.
I’m crying ‘cos with you I still belong.
I thought maybe I’d follow,
To see where you have gone
But there’s a hand upon this tiller
That is not mine alone.
I’m crying ‘cos I wrote this old blue song.
I’m crying ‘cos I’ve been lonely for too long.
The hand upon my tiller
The mystery of the dark
The unknown one who lives in me
And sings like a skylark.
I’m singing ‘cos I wrote you a new song.
I’m singing ‘cos the cat ain’t got my tongue.
My heart is like a rowing boat adrift Whose occupant has fallen overboard
The empty vessel drifts through deep sea mist. And in those pearl filled ears the deep sea roars. Just as the boat drifts mapless, so do I. My maps were drawn for quite another sea My captain’s taken leave and now I cry As if that drowned soul might just be me. Yet on the sea bed mysteries abound; Such wonders and such magic there displayed. I wonder if it is my lot drown And to a memory then quickly fade. Maps are no more certainties than hints. Between the lines hides gold from other mints
How white and blue together recollect us to the summer sky and the imagined swallows darting in exquisite geometry under the great domed space of the heavens, like the Basilica in Constantinople containing and giving space. And how I held you for a moment that was infinite and then you were gone, like an angel fearing enchantment into some finite boundaried world
Sometimes my hands curl up, and other times,they open. Then I feel the air; My fingers relax. I touch your hand; uncurl it and press it to mine. Palm on palm,it’s no secret that palms connect to hearts. In your face I see a hint of melancholy, I feel it in my soul.. as if there was a secret connection.. thought how,I don’t know. Somehow,touching, we create another soul, Neither you nor I, but we…… Touching,need to be physical.. We know how a story can affect us that way. What a gift to know we have touched someone… In the heart.’s. most tender space.The place of love. Both true and false,my palm is lonely. Then I feel the caress of summer air.. To touch is to be touched as one soul opens to another.. Vulnerable,human,loving, Painful and illusory,like those dreams of childhood. Now I go,first gripping, then loosening our hands. Goodbye,we say,Goodbye
A kidney infection makes oldies seem crazed Delirium, visions and rushes of rage It’s wonderful being so old and gay It’s wonderful being so old.
A lack of agility means we can’t dance And musing all day sends us into a trance It’s wonderful being so old and gay It’s wonderful being so old.
We seem to get shorter and fatter as well I can’t ride my bike as my eyes are unwell It’s wonderful being so old and gay It’s wonderful being so old.
I’ve forgotten the topology and shape of a man I’ve burned the front table and eight non-stick pans It’s wonderful being so old and gay It’s wonderful being so old.
The doctor helped me up a when I lay on the couch He pressed on my kidneys and I gave a shout it’s wonderful being so It’s wonderful being so old and gay It’s wonderful being so old.
More polite than the English, more white than the Scots They come here to help us as we need them lots It’s wonderful being so old and gay It’s wonderful being so old.
As poetic as Snowdon, as rhythmic as flow The Welsh suffered so when they closed the old coal Is it wonderful being so old and gay? Is it wonderful being so old?
I don’t feel so well as mi Mam used to say I can’t kneel down easy so now I can’t pray Is it wonderful leading old fogeys astray? Yeah, it’s wonderful being so old
Do not leave me for the desolate grave. Do not leave me here when you are gone Do not leave me to whom love you gave Do not leave me
My tender arms, I stroke and gently bathe To soothe my mind , when near me there is none. Do not leave me for the desolate grave Do not leave me
For our humorous love ,I ever crave A founding ground we have built upon Do not leave me to whom love you gave Do not leave me
A sorrow deep convulses like a wave Washes me of hope, of memories done Yet do not leave me for the desolate grave. Do not leave me
I love not the charisma of men suave I loved your voice and all the loving done Never leave me to whom love you gave Never leave me.
In my heart, your name shall be engraved In my mind, you circle like the sun Do not leave me for your desolate grave Do not leave me for death’s dark embrace~ Do not leave me
You are smiling on the pier above the sands The rippling waves stretch out like children’s hands You look so strong I cannot comprehend Your fatal illness and its grievous end You were not a patient on dry land You were living well and ” feeling grand” We crossed the road ; I held your cold thin hand I suffered so much torment,would I mend? I saw a fluid shape as dark it pranced Through the open door it swiftly danced Slipped in with the wiles of Tudor kings Hoping they can make it on the wing I learned with grief , it came to take you back Across the river wide ,my love, my lack
We must be less deferential to doctors and nurses and anybody with a small manager role like a community matron who think they can tell other people what to do which without having listened to them or empathise with a perhaps we have the unconscious fantasy that people go into medicine whether his doctor or nurses or carers as radiographers etc because they love the fellow human beings and most especially babies or young children we imagine full of loving kindness We’re all human and no one can live up to our ideals of perfection. how many people can resist the wonderful exteriences of putting down others all people the ones who can be attacked most safely are the old or disabled . for some nurses it’s babies they like to kill or injure as we are seeing with recent trials in Britain. we are too idealistic about human motives.and when we look at our own lives it’s easy to find we ourselves are guilty of this. Let’s think about it. is it trivial or is it more serious and if it is are we afraid to tell anybody? Comments
Never finish a sentence without ending it Never write too clearly to a man. Never begin a sentence without a word Never end one with but. Never free associate in writing nor in speech Never take a horse to bed. Never mention Adam Phillips unless in the LRB Never be over-cautious. Never end a word with a letter. Never give your name to the paper Never fall in love with a duck. Never pass water.Have a drink. Take a random sample of your dreams to a psychoanalyst Never cut your own hair while typing on it Never believe anything you read in bed
The garden’s now a Wood ,where dwell three wolves The maple red is now the president And all the laws and rules have been devolved For the sake of other residents
This green country gives heart like mine no grief For hidden are the houses standing near And as the wolves dance, I watch with relief Though ants and beetles stand around and stare
For wolves are never seen in suburbs tame And maples are at home in foreign lands It may be that the satyrs play new games And smuggle in some creatures contraband.
Let explanations die their long due death. Let’s lose our minds and dance in happiness.
Against sadness:no-one here can weep Nor lounge about enjoying melancholy deep. Was Van Gogh senseless to permit his muse. For his masterpieces ,was the price too steep? We see the yellow chair but not his views Nor his mind where technique made such leaps. Nor was his journey broadcast on the news. Against sadness.
Happiness or joy is hard to find When we rest, the News preys on our minds Yet some are cold towards the slaughtered priest His nose a beak of bone in old face lined Now Muslims go to Mass and join Christ’s feast Against sadness.
What rages in the mind make men kill thus? In Syrian wars the innocents fare worse. But these are our near neighbours so we weep And wonder how to end the frightening curse The sins we once committed hold us deep We hold our hands out wanting to be nursed Against sadness
I’m in deep now,never been this deep before The world’s hollow like a shell and I’m out its door. In so deep, the ocean has its own startled floor. I’m down,down.down.never been so dark , so more
I can’t rightly tell how I got where I am I think I had an accident,fell over, then I swam. Sometimes it’s a loss, be times it’s my man. I guess I only do it cos I know some folk can.
I don’t know if the joy is worth the pain Would I choose to relive if, I was born again? The deep joy is the amazing gain. But the sorrow is damn sad, let’s admit it plain.
I’m in deep and it’s over my head What was I thinking of,when I fell out of that bed? I look up and the sea’s so turquoise like that mist is red When we get good and mad and wish some loon was dead.
At first, it was all just black,black pain But from the bottom of the well, I looked up with awed love again. That’s when I recalled,feelings are deep and sane Joy is much greater when we’re in the deep,deep zone.
I dunno if I’m ever comin’ out. We can’t control it,ain’t that what life’s all about? I’ll never love with innocence again,nor not feel doubt. But I’m no teapot and the devil ain’t got my spout.
I’m swimming and the ocean’s so mysteriously bright Down here we don’t have no day nor no night Fish nudge me with big grins and teeth white Sea flowers fondle me and whisper,turn off that light
How my heart speaks 