Author: Katherine

Poetry writer and author

To hobnob

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Word of the Day : April 12, 2016
Merriam Webster

hobnob

play

verb HAHB-nahb
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Definition

: to associate familiarly

Examples

“We were so far from A-listers they couldn’t see us with a telescope, yet there we were, hobnobbing with athletes and celebrities, all the while making good use of the free drinks and appetizers, especially the sushi rolls.” — Eric Plummer, The Coeur d’Alene (Idaho) Press, 14 Feb. 2016

“The Oscars ceremony might be one of the most prestigious events in the celebrity world, but the Vanity Fair celebration is the most exclusive after-party … in which all of the movie stars in all of the land are brought to one large building to hobnob and  glad-hand and get away from the mortals.” — Monica Hesse, The Washington Post, 1 Mar. 2016

 

Did You Know?

Hob and nob first came together in print in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, when Sir Toby Belch warns Viola (who is disguised as a man) that Sir Andrew wants to duel. “Hob, nob is his word,” says Sir Toby, using hob and nob to mean something like “hit or miss.” Sir Toby’s words are probably from the term habnab (also styled as a phrase: hab or nab), which meant “in one way or another” or “however it may turn out.” After Shakespeare’s day, hob and nobbecame established in the phrase to drink hobnob (also styled asto drink hob or nob), which meant “to drink alternately to each other.” Since “drinking hobnob” was generally done among friends, hobnob came to refer to congenial social interaction.

Into the woods with Stan

new trees

Stan,who just had recovered from flu , had enjoyed being fussed over by the two women Mary his wife and Anne their neighbour.Now he was feeling better he decided to take Emile,his tomcat for a walk.They set off down a little track leading into a deep dark wood behind their house.

Emile would never go to the big wood alone as it seemed very frightening to a cat.But Stan wore a red anorak which  Emile could see  for  quite a way.
Emile gambolled around the trees like a lamb,even running up one or two tree trunks which is behaviour rarely seen in lambs,even in excessively hot weather.
Thus Stan mused to himself as he wandered along between the autumn tinted trees and shrubs.surely odd in May?
I wonder what the odds are of me ever seeing a lamb run up a tree,he pondered.
Men always like to think of the serious problems such as this, unlike women who think about the curtains and the bed linen and other mundane realities like fresh food and cleanliness.And shopping for soap and matches to light their fags
I wonder if I can look it up on Google, he thought.But even if lambs running up trees has happened in New Zealand it’s much too far for me to go to look…though it would be exiting. Rather expensive too,no doubt.
Emile deliberately walked into a muddy pool and came out all brown and filthy.
Really Emile,you are five years old now.Can’t you take care?Your coat is all muddy.
Never mind said Emile,I’ll lick it all off later
No,you won’t said Stan,it’s about time you had a bath.
Emile murmured,
I think I’m too dirty to go in the bath,can’t I just have a wash in a big plastic bowl?
Well,economy is good sometimes,replied Stan You can bathe in the old jam saucepan,that’s a nice big size.
But you won’t put me on the stove and boil me,Emile teased him gently with a little smile.
Of course not.I love you too much Emile ,to torment you like that.
After Mary,Annie,Lyra and all the other ladies you love.
Well,it’s different.One can love in many ways.In theory at least.
As you grow older your heart grows larger and you can keep more creatures in there,sheltering in your bosom.
I thought only ladies had bosoms,Emile purred.
Well,according to the Bible,Abraham had a bosom.It’s a place around your heart where you keep those you love.
Have I got a bosom,Emile enquired shyly.
Do you love anyone?
Yes,I love you and Mary,the milkman and the lady cat down the road.And Annie.
Well in that case Emile,you definitely have a bosom,Stan answered confusedly yet contemplatively.
What ever will Emile ask me next ,he wondered.I don’t know if I can keep up with his development.
And so they rambled on into the deep dark wood..
What would they find in there…little Red Riding Hood?A wolf?
We shall wait and see.
One thing is sure
They’ll both need a bath if and when they get home

The alphabet

Anxiety is the price of life.
But don’t pay over the top.

Calmness is good at most times.
Dread is a bad friend.

Exploring nature soothes the soul
For what are we but part of it?

Gentle music helps the mind
How ever we do it,
Listening is a kindness to ourself.

Ink is the friend of the writer.
Judgment is another one.

Kindness is essential to the good life.
Lessons are available daily.

Money is necessary but not sufficient for happiness.
Needs are simpler then we imagine.

Oxygen is good for the brain.
Prayer is good for the mind.

Quality is hard to judge quickly.
Rest is often a good idea.

Tension inhibits ideas.
Work should involve play.

X- rated films are optional
Yes…You are a valuable person.

Z is the final letter
And life is an Art

I’s still goin’ out

Summer is a-comin’ in but I’s a-goin’ out.
The sun’s a-come,my work’s a-done and now I want my stout
The wind a-blows,the leaves all wave,what is it all about?
The kitchen tiles a-droppin’ off,I think we need some grout.
The rain a-drops the flowers a-bloom,so why does I a-doubt?
If God made me,He made thee too,and th’art a lazy lout.
Thy second most favoured thing to do, is a-doin’ nowt.
The summer may be comin’ in,but I’s still goin’ out

Winter poem..

trees in gloq_n

Trees swaying in the wind
Leaves
blow
down.

Birds flying through the sky
look
for
lorn
.
Winter edges ever nearer.
Frost and fog will soon appear.
Cats sleep cosy by the fire
I clean the mud off my bike tyres.

Trees swaying to and fro
sig
nal
love,
.
Birds flowing on air currents.
You’re my dove

Ray Monk’s writing:a conversation

Have you read many books by Ray Monk?
No,Have you?
Only one,but I’ve read it seven times so far.
That’s value for money!Why seven,is it some thing you have about numero septimus?
No,I just couldn’t understand it at first!
So why did you persist?
Well,it is written so beautifully and also I like lives.
Style over substance!
No,it has both.Unusually.
What’s it about then,detectives?
No,I don’t read those seven times.It’s the biography of Wittgenstein.
How long did it take you?
Five years!
Are you a philosopher?

Well,I am now.

How to spell and rebel

 

She was sweeter than money till she met him
He has plenty of elan brutal.
Where are the borders of prayer?
By whose Messiah was love preserved?
Toujours re-bless.
Dies prayer,
A la printemps de l’annee je suis flosse.
A quicksand is no place to gather moss.
He said,Oh,No! Raaaa.Ahaha
A passim a day keeps  Word at bay
He is bluish and almost unconscionable.
Je m’appelle la diva derider.
I think I aren’t.
Is he now  a psychowrath?
I write with a pin on my arm.
I love to watch bones knitting
Quelle est l’heure de la torte?
C’est le mort diable.Scriabin.
Tortelier,mon amour.
How the hell he spells ,Romans nose  love
I think my destiny was to greet this occupation … a la quartz

Home is where to start

 
Stan was cooking  tea that day,
While his wife went out to play.
He cooked a pie of frogs and cress,
He wanted to impress.
Stan was wearing his old clothes.
Where old clothes come from,no-one knows.
He meant to change when he was done,
So he and Mary could have fun.
But Anne his neighbour rang the bell,
Stan was so surprised he fell.
He hit his head upon the stove,
And his poor scalp turned blue and mauve.
Ring 999 and ask for Dave,
This man is old yet must be saved
The paramedic gave him glue
To stick together his old shoe.
Then he rubbed on arnica..
The head looked like Guernica.
“Get the camera,take a pic.”
Stan was feeling rather sick.
“How can you use my wounds as art?
Rest assured I’ll take no part.”
He hit the camera with his stick,
And felled his mistress with a brick.
So now they’re in a mixed sex ward,
This experience can be shared.
They get their food at 3 am
Half for the ladies,half for the men.
The doctor asked them what went wrong.
Both of them had lost their tongues.
Neither would say what they’d done!
Now their anger is all gone.
The moral of my myth is this:
Being unfaithfail is not bliss.
Mistresses can be a pain,
Especially if they’re very vain.
And better not to look for love,
Except with cats or sweet white doves.
Let your neighbour love you less!
And don’t make comments on her dress.
As for voyeurs,keep a crutch.
Hit them hard, but not too much.
If they want a work of Art,
Tell them home is where to start.

Ept?

If something is “inept”, what is “ept?”?

Answers
Relevance

Julia N
Best Answer:  The word “inept” comes from the Latin word “ineptus,” which is formed from the terms “in-“, meaning not, and “aptus,” meaning suited, fitted, etc. So while “ept,” doesn’t mean anything, “apt” certainly does. They aren’t complete opposites, but as words evolve from their ancient origins, they are often “apt” to change a little.
Julia N · 9 years ago
1

  • david
    “inept” is incapable, “in” is a negating prefix, so to be “ept” is surely “to be able or capable.”
    And as Charles Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) said a word means exactly what I intend it to mean.
    EB White coined “ept” in the 1930s. The Oxford Dictionary cites “eptly” and “eptitude”.
    It is seldom wise to assert that a collection of letters isn t a word without spending some time looking.
    david · 2 months ago

A lover of the vapid is my friend

A lover of the vapid is my friend
So rapidly to boredom we  can wend.
Yet should  love like this  be brought to sudden end
Or clung to as we struggle through the bends?

Is the choosing  of insipid  acts
Genetic, to be treated with mere tact?
Or if it’s learned, then how should I react
To give him aid to  learn  that which he lacks?

And who am I to judge that he  should change?
For vapidity’s subjective  in its range.
And criticism if ept may then derange,
To lunacy his mind  be rearranged.

Personal  judgements   should not issue   fast,
As  the pains we cause may for an era last

An interesting word:vapid

 Cromer
vapid
ˈvapɪd/
adjective
adjective: vapid
  1. offering nothing that is stimulating or challenging; bland.
    “tuneful but vapid musical comedies”
    antonyms: lively, colourful, exciting
Origin
mid 17th century (used originally in description of drinks as ‘lacking in flavour’): from Latin vapidus .

Singing will make us rejoice

English is a complex old tongue
Syntax and parsing  and song
Sing for your supper
As adverbs you mutter
With me here you’ll rarely go wrong

From Hebrew and Greek and old Norse
English is good for your voice
Inchoate longings
Mutate into songlings
Sing  till you feel almost hoarse.

From Latin in Church and at school
We moved onto logic and Boole
Symbols and signs reign
And we begin once again
Learning new words makes me drool.

 

Singing will make us rejoice
As we each contribute our own voice.
God loves us equally
And very frequently
Let singing  good songs be your chouce

No bounds

She accidentally strayed

into his terrortery;
He panicked and felt his heart
beating louder
as if trying to burst its way out.
His face turned whiter;
she backed away
knowing intuitively,
it was for the best;
for terror knows no bounds.
And no boundaries create
Terror.

Start charging him

When my husband has been ill,he longs for a tart…Well,you could start charging him!

Can you plug men in like you do with your mobile ?

I wonder if that’s why they have two ears?

What,does the charger go in their ear?

Well,they don’t use them to listen to us women.

I shall have to ask someone.

No,just look on the Internet…
I did look and the good news is,It’s free nowadays.

What’s the bad news?

It’s all porn

Did it affect you?

No,I’d rather read a book..

What sort of book?

The ones where she swoons into his arms

~and he swoons into her charms.

You read those books too?

I write them!

You never said.

No I write under a nom de plum

Plume!

Plum,plume,it’s all  a foreign language to me.

It’s French…

Like the tart

On  Lucian Freud

http://www.ancient-hebrew.org/28_chart.html
The language your forefathers spoke

Dwells in your images.
Faces bleed with feeling.
Bodies rise out like rocks.
Your self-portrait sings
Me,myself.I am.
When God spoke from the burning bush,
You took the flame and ran

Stan wants to bake some blackberries

Stan had decided to do some baking.

The larder was empty
the cupboard was bare
he looked in the cake tin
but  nothing was there.
Stan had flour,eggs and sugar and of course milk and butter.Emile was under the table waiting for something to drip out of the bowl!He loved baking days.
Stan had bought a load of blackberries in the market so he was thinking of blackberry tarts,blackberry crumble..
He picked up the bag which seemed very heavy.Putting his hand in …..he pulled out a Blackberry!

He went to the market
to buy me some fruit
and now he’s got Blackberries
he’s going to shoot!
Annie his next door neighbour was coming to the back door.
“What’s up,Petal?”
“Oh,dear.I seem to have made a category error.”Stan answered philosophically.
“Well what category would you put me into?” she asked petulantly.
“Why are you so egocentric ?Not everything is about you!”He said fluently.
“Well if I’m narcissistic it’s because my infant grandiosity was ruptured too suddenly and I was not held and contained in a suitable manner.”
“You’ve been reading that Wilfred Bion again.” Stan said admiringly.
“No,not just him.It’s some American chap as well .Would you like to read it?”
“No,thanks,I’m finding Julia Segal is more than enough for me.I find Bion is a bit too mystical.I don’t think I can approach you without memory or desire.To be honest,without memory or desire I wouldn’t want to approach you.”
“Wow ” she said stupidly,her large green eyes staring avidly upon him inviting him to fall into their salty sea like depths.
“Shall I ring 999?I can’t think of anything to say. I’m lost for words.”
“Perhaps you have reached that mystical spot beneath language mostly only known to babies,the mad, or meditators?”
“Well,I do feel a bit of madness today.”
“Is that why you have purple and orange eye-shadow on clashing with your alarazin crimson lipstick and your light beige, but not too light, foundation by Lancome of Brixton and Blackheath, Paris,Rome,and London?”
“I suppose so.” she replied indifferently.I feel as if I’m behind a glass wall.”
“Oh,don’t worry.That’s the new window!” Stan explained courteously.”You really are behind a glass wall. You’ve been reading schizoid processes again on Yahoo,”
“Yes,” she admitted her face blushing violently.”It’s those new people who’ve moved in across the road.They are both psychoanalysts so I wanted to feel up to their level of knowledge.”
“I didn’t know they were psychoanalysts.How did you find out?”
“Well,first of all,there were two large sofas, and then hundreds of knitting needles and a lorry-ful of wool.And I thought,”Hello,hello,It must be one of Anna Freud’s followers.”
“So have you met them?” he asked laconically?
“Yes”,she confessed animatedly .I went over and said,
“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
“And what did he say?”
“Are you all mad round here?”
“So I thought,”You’re not getting hold of me that easily.””
“So I said “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m am an admirer of Melanie Klein,”
“Oh,how did they react to that?”Stan quizzed her jovially.
“He was so rude.He said,
“Are you telling me you’re a lesbian as well as a lunatic?”
“Oh,dear.No wonder your make up is all running off your face and disappearing down your cleavage.Why don’t you pop upstairs and have a bath?”
“Well it’s either that or ringing 999”
“My self is totally divided.”
“Into equal parts?”
“I can’t say” she murmured.
“Oh,well” said Stan “you sit there with Emile and I shall make a Victoria sponge and a lemon drizzle cake without the lemon…I’ve only got bananas and they don’t drizzle.
“Why not adapt to reality and make a banana loaf?”
“Is that wise?” Stan enquired.
“Wise or not,it seems to make sense.” she whispered coyly.”Get a move on or Mary will be back on her Raleigh shopper bicycle and there’ll be no cake for tea
.”Thank you,honey.”Stan replied.
“I am filled with memory and desire.”
“And quite right too,”mioawed Emile from his basket.”I’m like that every night!”
“And so are all of us,”Annie twittered on one of Stan’s  new blackberries

Parse the sugar

  • When I met the Queen she asked  me to parse the marmalade!
    And did you?
    I passed out.
    With flying dolours?
    Exactly.
    You ought to study syntax.
    Will it be rewarding?
    Not financially but it is good for your readers.
    They should write the blog and I can read it.
    Ask for volunteers!
    Will I pay them?
    No,it’s  a learning experience.
    For whom?
    My,we are posh today!
    Stop sniggering at me.
    Ask nicely.
    No.

To parse?

explore_tile0

parse
pɑːz/
verb
verb: parse; 3rd person present: parses; past tense: parsed; past participle: parsed; gerund or present participle: parsing
  1. 1.
    resolve (a sentence) into its component parts and describe their syntactic roles.
    “I asked a couple of students to parse these sentences for me”
    • COMPUTING
      analyse (a string or text) into logical syntactic components.
      “a user question input is parsed into an internal conceptual representation”
noun

COMPUTING
noun: parse; plural noun: parses
  1. 1.
    an act of parsing a string or a text.
    “a failed parse was retried”
Origin
mid 16th century: perhaps from Middle English pars ‘parts of speech’, from Old Frenchpars ‘parts’ (influenced by Latin pars ‘part’).

The lark

 

Freed from her trap.
Bird soared into air,and hovered,
And floated, resting;
And flew higher, singing as she flew,
And higher again,
Till there was only her song,
Left in the silence,
Trembling.

Up on the high, wide,stump topped hill,
I felt the lark inside my heart
And heard her singing.
And flying up with her,
I saw gold sun and silver moon,
Moors of heather and sheep grazing,
Green hills,
And shimmering lakes,
Clouds,sun and sky in watery mirrors.
And sang,and dipped,and dropped,
And curled
Up the blue
Bright heaven,and rested
On the wind.
All that day
I was a lark singing.

I shall always have a vision of
A bird
That flew upwards,
Rejoicing and free
Into a deep blue sky, and high
And higher
Beyond high
Into a place, beyond eye even,
But music still sending.

I wish I were back on that heathery moor,
With the nibbling sheep and the bees sweetly humming,
Hearing again
The poignant song
Of the skylark;
A prisoner,freed by a magician,
From her trap,
So happy to be free,
So wonderful to see.

Do it again for me.

A worm on the couch

I was planning to make a carrot cake till my mother told me:Carrots don’t eat cake.What are carrots anyway? Why are they so picky?I have to eat all my food or I get punished by hunger pains.
Are there worms inside me eating my food or biting me?
Do worms have teeth?What is it they like about soil.
Charles Darwin wrote a book about worms…
So far I have not read it.
Worms are the opposite of us.
They never get angry or depressed as far as we can tell..
How fortunate as to psychoanalyze a worm would be hard.
Indeed could you tell a worm to lie on the sofa
Or would you have to climb inside a plant pot next to the worm?
As Wittgenstein might have said,
If worms could speak we would not understand what they said.
I don’t know,I think I can guess though…
I have some experience …symbolically that is.
Or is it metaphorically?
Imagine a worm on your couch.
Hmm,how are things going?
Yurp,blurp!
Well,that’s good.
Werp,serp!
Quite right,I am interfering with your transfernce.
Hurpppppppp.
Would you like a little soil?
Mummmm
Oh,dear…I should not have offered you anything.
Daddddddd.
Surely you don’t remember him?
Herrrrrrrr.
So your dad was a lady?
Oh ,ahhh!
Well,it takes all sorts.
Glumb,glomb.
I’m afraid your time is up.
Tinnnnnggggggggg
You want a minicab?
Taaaaaaaaaaaaa.
That’s £500
Do you take plastic?
No,only notes.
Doh,ray,me
I never knew worms could sing…
Well,you do now.

Stan cleans the carpet

 

Stan was down on his hands and knees washing and scrubbing at the carpet with a new microfibre cloth and some  shampoo for dry hair.He had a bucket of hot water beside him.Happy, as always, when cleaning and scrubbing he whistled “The lark ascending” for his cat Emile, whilst sipping at a big mug of lager.
Mary was down in the town buying some new earrings to match her red dress from Phase 8 Sale.Their granddaughter Flora had also gone to town but she wanted a nose ring not an earring.As she was a girl it was mandatory in the UK.Suddenly,quite out of the blue,the doorbell rang.They always do don’t they.It was their Muslim neighbour Bert.”We’re going away in the caravan.”He boasted gruffly.”Anyroad,the cat ,Nelsonia Mandelinaah, doesn’t want to come.Would you be able enough to feed her over the weekend without any politically correct remarks being issued ,as it were?”
” Certainly” Stan responded jovially.”When are you off?”
“Well we went last week but we need a weekend in bed to recover from seeing Brent Cross Shopping Centre in Kettlewell right next to the old Post Office.[Kettlewell,Yorkshire’s idyllic village]
“Very strange”Stan said,”Mary was in it only yesterday ,she claims,in Knittingham spending all our minute joint pension on new dresses and shoes.”
“I encounter women who have seen Brent Cross down the road all the time all over Britain.Still they’re entitled to believe what they want!” “But what will the consequences be?”Is there a flying Brent Cross?”
“That sounds rather religious,” Bert answered quickly
,”Is it an augury?”
“I’d say it’s an omen,myself”
“But of what?”
“The times we live in?
“But what’s going to happen?” “God knows.” “Well,does he though?”Stan’s hot water had gone cold.In fact it was frozen.”The laws of physics seem very mutable” Stan wrote in his journal,”Also my spelling has deteriorated badly since I began drinking laaaaaaaaaaaager.Would whiskey be better?”Meanwhile,he had cleaned only one third of the carpet.
He filled the bath with hot soapy water,stepped in fully clothed and then rolled himself around all over the carpet to pick up all the fluff.

When Mary came in she was amazed,”What’s going on?”
“You look as if you’ve been having an orgy on the floor!”
An orgy was something unknown to Stan as yet.”Would you like one?” he murmured.”Yes,”said Mary childishly “Age has not beaten me yet!””Better have it soon before my knees get too bad!”So now Stan is cleaning the carpet again.It’s very soft and thick,just perfect!The list of invitees is posted on his blog.
Well,he’s been told to do something new every week.An orgy this week,the marathon later!
But why is Mary ringing 999?
Does she want to invite Dave,the paramedic or is it more sinister than I can tell you? “Yes,indeed,she wants to invite Alistair Campbell and Tony Blair but she’s not telling Stan!.He’ll be furious.In fact he might kill someone but no,even these people have the right to life.And they did some good in Northern Ireland.But would you want them at an orgy?””Me neither!”

 Inferiority Complex:A part of a hotel for shy or inadequate feeling people to stay in

 

Two guests meet:

Hello!Shall we play tennis

I’m no good at tennis.
You’re better than I am.
How do you know?You’ve never met me before.
I just know I’m the worst player in the world.
That’s not very scientific.
True,I’m no good at scientific thinking either.
But that means all your ideas about your inferiority are probably wrong…
Yes,I am stupid as well as inferior.
I’m envious of you.I hoped I’d be the most stupid person here.
Well,never mind.You are the most irritating.
Thank you very much.
Don’t thank me.I’m neurotically modest.
What’s neurotic about it?
I only came here for peace and quiet..
So blame me then.
Well.it’s my own fault..I should have gone on a Retreat.
Why did you not?
I’m not spiritual enough.
But I thought God helps the humble.
I’m not humble.I’m conceited about how inferior I am.
I need a degree in logic to understand you.On second thoughts,I’ll go home!
Thank goodness he’s gone.
He was lowlier than thou.

Our human vulnerability

A day of sudden changes.Clouds
cross the sky
like whales swimming North in rows.
The sun was bright,dazzled my eyes
with gold and silver.
Wind cut across my face
like a slap from an angry father..
Those who love can also seem to hate us too..
The lure of that small childish body
tempts them to divert their anger towards it.
When the ones who hurt you
are also the ones you love,
it’s hard to know which direction to run in;
but it usually turns into a circle.
Retreating turns into a new arrival.
Straight lines might be better, though
On a spherical earth
difficult to find.
Even parallel lines meet
In their Riemannian geometry.
So we can never get away
Sometimes the best we manage
Is to increase the circle’s radius.
Though how is hard to know.
Do you love me or hate me?
Do you want me to stay or go?
What do I want?Do I have a me?
The memory of warmth draws us back
Like a cold lonely beast leaving the jungle
To lie down with  what appears to be a lamb,
Surprising the farmer up early to milk his animals,
Finding a strange new one
Looking with tender,puzzled eyes
into His Human Face.

The words will come to those who that desire.

Winnowed was the produce of my heart

And fortune favoured me upon that day.
For what remained was worthy of respect
And helped me rise above the fumes and fray.

The consciousness of good was well received
My soul and heart were like soaked bread in wine.
Although I did not doubt the creative word
To gain this mark of honour  made it mine.

As being so prolific is a feat,
And  work well done is cherished and admired
Then I shall rest and  let my mind roam free
Replenishing again my inner fires.

The labourer is worthy of his hire.
The words will come to those who that desire.

Fortify from fortis in Latin

Stan’s time has come

Sun through trees
  Oh,Stanley Brown is ninety one.

His time to procreate has come!

His lover is now having twins!

See how Stanley grins.

Oh Stanley’s cat is called Emile.

He likes mouse pie and conger eels.

He watches Stanley making out.

He’s curious no doubt!

Why does Emile not find a mate?

Perhaps Emile  has left it far too late.

Though he has serviced twenty cats.

And killed so many rats.

But none of Emile’s lady mates

Stayed with him past their due date.

So Emile is a bachelor.

He’s peeping through the bedroom door.

He’s watching how these humans mate.

They seem to kiss and celebrate.

They sleep wrapped in each others arms.

This kind of love has charms.

So Emile wants to go online,

To find a site called “Yours is mine.”

He wants to find a sweet,sweet wife.

And live the loving life.

We must give Emile privacy,

Just like we permit Stanley.

They must not be in photo-shoots,

No matter that they’re cute.

Annie gets up in the night.

She keeps peeing,that’s alright.

She’s peeing now for two or three.

Her kidneys are busy.

Stanley brings her morning tea,

Emile notes in his diary.

She wears a dress and looks so bright.

What a cheerful sight.

Stanley has a his pension now.

Will they have child allowance too?

Age Concern will check on that,

While Emile’s on his mat.

Do you think Stan is far too old

To father twins and be so bold?

Should he forfeit his freedom pass?

He’s not short of brass.

Oh,George Osborne is coming round.

He wants to take the old man’s crown
[an old English coin]

He wants to punish older folk.

Ain’t he an evil bloke?

He thinks he will be Camerons’ heir!

He smiles a bit like Tony Blair.

He thinks we’ll all forget his tricks.

And we’ll just take his kicks.

But Stan and Annie organize

A protest march of the Oldies.

Not many are expecting twins,

Not when the march begins!

As you grow old, don’t give up life.

You take a lover or a wife.

You organise campaigns and march

From Camden town to Marble Arch
You sing Dylan and play guitars.

You know what’s right and it matters.

You don’t leave life to other folk.

Oh,Stan’s a great old bloke.

Politics is for us all.

So get involved whilst you can crawl.

Make protests in your own sweet way.

Go on, begin today

So in future I shall marry ten!

Exasperated was I by my cat.
Who on my  soft lap  rarely sat
But he lay on the mat
With his head on my foot
Unless perchance he smelled a rat.

You see I miss cuddling my man
And ,by mistake, only had one.
So when he passed on
Of hugs I got none.
So in future I shall marry ten!

Exasperate

exasperate

play

verb ig-ZASS-puh-rayt
Definition

1 : to excite the anger of : enrage

2 : to cause irritation or annoyance to

Examples

Lila quickly became exasperated by her new roommate’s habit of leaving her dirty dishes in the sink.

“‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned’ are the first words we hear from Mannix, a married Catholic who exasperates his priest in Confession by asking forgiveness on an almost daily basis.” — Peter Travers, Rolling Stone, 23 Feb. 2016

 

Did You Know?

Exasperate hangs with a rough crowd. It derives from exasperatus, the past participle of the Latin verb exasperare, which in turn was formed by combining ex– with asper, meaning “rough.” Another descendant of asper in English is asperity, which can refer to the roughness of a surface or the roughness of someone’s temper. Another relative, albeit a distant one, is the English word spurn, meaning “to reject.” Lest you wish to exasperate your readers, you should take care not to confuse exasperate with the similar-sounding exacerbate, another Latin-derived verb that means “to make worse,” as in “Their refusal to ask for help only exacerbated the problem.”