I felt quite depressed after birth
As I didn’t like the look of the earth
But mother was kind
And kept me in mind
Without showing an iota of mirth.

I liked to sit outside in my pram
Whilst eating her strawberry jam.
Our cat sat by me
Till she swallowed a bee.
Then she shrieked,I don’t think yet I am.

St George was born in Syria and his mother was a  Palestinian Christian according to Wikipedia.I think he must hve joined the Roman army and come to England but why do we have an incurser as our patron saint?

“When things are urgent, go slower.”

I must confess that I have now entered the ranks of those people mocked in some newspapers for thowing away food.
His Majesty has become very hard to feed lately and has been demanding trifle and cake… despite me giving him a lecture on protein and other such interesting topics.So since he never actually ate the trifls [just a pack of 4 little ones] 1 see it is well beyond its date so it is now going to feed the worms.And His Majesty also is looking for the cat which will be hard to find as it is dead. …..[2002]
Perhaps I can get hold of a new one… or maybe a stuffed one.
We used to visit a museum as children where there was a stuffed wild cat with a bird in its mouth,from Scotland.
I doubt if he’d like that lying on his leg tonight!Or with its head by his.Why it might kill him to see…imagine a snarling cat’s face lying by you.Why he might think it was me:
Have you had your hair done,dear? an interesting striped effect but do take your dentures out,they are positively grotesque.I don’t think we should kiss,let’s just get down to brass tacks.Do take off the fur dressing gown.you are hot enough already.I can’t wait for your hugsi
OMG I must be in the wrong house.If I am going to commit adultery I don’t want to do it with a dead wild cat.Still it won’t keep asking me if I love it…now,there’s a thought

Im ‘nuntiavit vulva est valde rudis verbum

Tamen nos omnes onto unum emergere.

Vagina est commune et inmundum.

Vulva crassius est.

Sic vestri ‘egone, nisi turbetur.

Credo dick iuge est quod verbum

Ut opponitur iusto verbum.

Verba fecimus in Graeco
At ego non possum loqui

In casu aliquo organo gets excitentur.
Dum habeat, uti

Si quis hunc tuum fuse

.Venit enim atrophia

Et putat tua posuisti.

Et si diu vivere non possint amittere,

Legam aliquam mollis ante porn vado

Ubi ostendam hospitali

Ego sum non omnino siccum

Habeo decem in lacrimis oculi mei:

.Si ergo sum, humani sanguinis, salve!

They ask me to tick a box
To specify my ethnic group,
Some call me English,but my feet are Celtic
Some call me British,but my eyes are Nordic
I am a white mixed race woman,with Saxon hair
And Irish bones and eyes like those of Danes
The people,not the Dogs,ha ha!
Perhaps I’ll say they’re Scandinavian!
But that’s not good for rhyming,so
I shall have to find a category
That suits a poet,maybe Swedish
Or Tasmanian
As that rhymes with Scandinavian
And poetry matters more
Than collecting flora
To give to Statisticians
Or fauna for the visions
Of multiple mathematicians.
I don’t belong in any box
With my Celtic feet and my golden locks,
And eyes like Finns
[So useful in the winter
For a discontented hinter]
So,no more hints
I tell you to
Please refrain
From asking me again
I’m a lady from the human race
With just a hint of a tiger’s face,
Eyes of angel;snake a trace,
Just enough to make me hiss
When people ask me this
Again. I am a mixed race human being and
I shall fly away now.I do have my own transport
.I can fly.
I’m an angel…sorry an angle.
so this is it.
I’m a descendant of the invaders
and the locals,maybe the Romans too
Photo1180
Note[1]
When St Augustine of Canterbury
was sent by the Pope to convert
the English ,or Anglo-Saxons
as they were then ,to Christianity he was,so struck
by their golden hair, blue eyes
and fair complexions,he said
“They are not Angles but Angels”
Note[2]I am descended like most white British people ,not only from illegal immigrants,
invaders and marauders ie the Anglo-Saxons .the Vikings etc.That’s what makes me English or British.I may have Jewish blood too as prior to King John’s murderous regime there was a big Jewish community in York.I have a great niece who is 25% Jewish.We’re all mixed up here
We may look like angels but…….we don’t behave like angels.comquering other countries and building an empire.

1 Waken the dead
2 Drink my own sea.
3 Get thrashed.
4 Get messed.
5 Make more wee.
6 Flake some hot muttered oaths
7 Find the orange mars brigade.
8 Roam mein herr.
8 Get my boat on
9 Get my snag and my bus harass.
10 Open the floor and fall out.
11 Stalk to the bus drop
12 Put out my band
13 Fret on the bus
14 Flow into the coffee  hop
15 Order a mop of fluffy.
16 Shrink the toffee.
17 Buy a nook in Data phones.
18 Buy some dude.
19 Grow to the bus hop.
20 Get onto the mess
21 Shower my brass
23 Sit doom
24 Fling the bell
25 Get orff.
26 Find my flea.
27 Center the mouse
28 Pant and rant
29 Sitz frown
30 Get anne’s diner.
31 Have a pest
32 Sing 999
33 Open the  boa
34 Sit and balk
35 Snow through bed
36 Still not fled.
37 Fall and weep.
38 Sod ’em tomorrow.
39 Say my dares.
40 Dream of feeling.
41 Shaken up again.
42 Shrink the tea.
43 Strike my medication
44 Open the roast and flay the bills.
45 Call the proctor and bask him for anti-neurotics.

46 Be committed

We had to learn in school what our religion was about so I’ll try to put down the main ideas.
It’s good to take thorns out of lions’ paws.
Men should never cut their hair.
Sausages are rude because they look like penises.That’s why some folk can’t eat pork,I think.
When we receive Communion and bite the bread,Jesus can feel it.
Candles can help the sole in purgatory as they can see better.
If you have no sins to confess,you should be ashamed of yourself as you are too proud,
Jesus was God’s son but God’s name was not on his birth certificate so Mary was on child benefit and housing benefit too.And it was not wrong because God told us to help each other and the poor.And it was a test.Which we have failed.
God can sew because Jesus liked needles with small eyes.
God didn’t want Jesus to die but human beings are cruel and tend to attack the good… like God’s own chosen people who were given the ten commandments to pass on.There were more than ten but they lost a few in the desert when their tablets’ batteries went flat.
God likes to hear us sing but not rock music as it makes his head ache.
God has his own Spirit to fortify him but he doesn’t smoke every day.He’s like a dragon,you see.
After we die we can be improved by being roasted in a hot fire and eaten by cannibals.It’s called the Inferno and Dante wrote the script before God made the film which seems hard to find but we kept looking.
When we are in heaven we will never have sex again.Or in some cases leave out the “again” but we won’t know as our minds will be blank

When I was at school we learned spammer and witticisms in the English lesson.And I loved it to spits.Especially those phrases like: je ne sais pas.
In history we spent a year on canals,roads and railways and we never saw the teacher again which was lucky as she was about to begin the study of Revolutions and I have always had whizzy hells and dirt to go.
In geography we learned how to colour in maps of the world and how to go up the pole or poles
In gym lessons some of us found sliding down the ropes rather intriguing.That was before they introduced us to text in special blessings.
We also learned English Country Prancing and how to make cart wheels.
I disliked doing those erratic equations in Maths for an hour a day but it passed the rhyme faster.
I loved languages especially Rattin’ and Squeak which apparently were used by human beings when we were civilised and before proper English was spoke here.Imagine the peasants labouring over Virgins and Hyppocratese and so forth.Did they learn economically?
We did learn some science like how to play with mercury balls and others’ balls such as crickets and bats and so on.We also did Monotony which I liked as I could fall into a light slumber.
I once set my hair on fire in the lab and then I was extinguished by my friend Ally.
After I left school I relieved myself at the university where the staff were very virtuous to ladies.

I lie back in the weather-proofed chair
To gaze up at the flowering maple tree.
Now, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air
I embrace with joy the beauty I now see.

Old celandine show brightly by my feet;
Neglected currant bushes straggle side the path
There is no birdsong ,yet a silence sweet
Soothes my heart and quietens my wrath.

My heart’s sore and anguished is this mind
Yet in our little wood I feel deep calm.
My eyes are shadowed and my face is lined.
May this green spring bring me a gentle balm.

For even in depression and deep grief,
The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf.

Do you ever feel you have fallen apart?Do you feel like a broken china cup?Well,most of us do now and then… but how can you feel whole again?
Strangely,the best answer seems to be that you don’t need to do anything except perhaps to take it easy.
Because,call it what you like the force that makes the green shoots grow is also inside us.
And it is this which will mend us.
In our societ being hyperactive ,using will power, is overvalued.We heal by submitting to nature and by doing nothing

achieving  our goals is highly valued.And being “passive” is not.But we need both these capacities…
You can’t mend yourself by will power but by submitting to the unkown force which grew you from a single cell and which is still there.
Life’s a mystery.Quietness helps us to partake in it

Pray Father,give me a Dressing.It is five Tweets since my last Depression
So what have you done now?
Well,as I’ve done nothing wrong today ,I am suffering from Pride.
You seem to think about yourself too much
How much is too much,Dad?
Well,when we are happy and doing something we enjoy,we forget ourselves entirely. and that is the best way to be.
But first we need some security.

How can I get that?
You need a spam guard for your mind!At the moment you are on automatic which is the default setting of your brain to act like a reptile…
Thanks very much,Father,I never knew I was a reptile.Did they have scruples..
It was kill or be killed.Don’t you see the scruples are an attack on yourself?The reptile is attacking you… as you have frightening thoughts it’s annoyed.
So how do I rebutt these bad thoughts
Say,Alright if I’m the most wicked man in the city,smite me and do your worst.I am not afraid any more..I have done my best and if it’s not good enough strike me dead now or forever give me peace,
And what will happen after that?
Well,we shall see.But you have to face this thing head on.Bring it to a head.Lance the boil.
So if God does smite me dead?
Well, do you really think you are so wicked because you stole a half penny from the charity box fifty years ago?
I see it’s a sort of pride… a theatrical display of guilt.
Yes, quite right.Anyway, if you survive your ordeal let me know and I’ll give it a try.
Why,don’t say you have scruples too?
Yes,I have scruples about giving advice to people.If they follow it and it’s no good… it worries me….
Why don’t we do or die together,Father?
I’ll give you a buzz.
Meanwhile am I absolved?
Yes, dear boy.Sometimes I wish I could be dissolved..
Why is that?
I’d like to lose myself.
Why not try reading a good book…I recommend Nicholas Freeling.
But I feel guilty reading.
Now look here,Father,God helps those who help themselves….give yourself a break…
A good novel, a cup of tea and a little pussy  cat on your knee,you’ll be transformed.

Thank you,my child.
Don’t mention it,Father.
Don’t mention what?
They never say.
It’s just a phrase or is it a phase?
It’s all Greek to me.
I know some very sweet Greeks or are they geeks?
Just one letter can make such a difference..

My husband is naughty a very naughty man
He throws down the newspaper on top of his beer can
He buys himself a sandwich in a cardboard box
And puts it in the laundry with his woollen socks.

He takes off his pyjamas and chucks them on the floor
He uses hankies  frequently, so I have to buy some more.
He wants to have thick sauces on top of all his food.
And when he has a hypo his speech is very rude.

I gave him such a shock when I learned to curse and swear
But we really need to,as “eff off “is everywhere.
Why, even in the Bible there are some wicked words
I’ve not read it all yet, except Psalm 23rd.

I mean to finish reading it and then when I must die,
I’ll come onto a cloud and shout,Oh pi is in the sky.
For transcendental numbers give a hint divine.
Although you can get it better with a glass of  dry, white wine.

My husband drinks draught guinness and then he fall asleep
He hollers and curses when the oven timer bleeps.
He eats a piece of kipper and cried out,Oh,dear God!
Nobody caught this b*gger with a fishing rod

He wants to move to Whitby and walk upon the sands
Sit in the audience and hear the big brass bands.
He wants to see the sun rise and to see it set…
So please send God some gelatine in case the air’s too wet!