Beware the delivery pass they sell
For I ,so foolish, for one fell
It says I can order every day
But guess what folks, they make me pay
I tried to do one this weekend
But in 6 days I have sinned
I bought 2 loaves just for the ghosts
Foetuses, and heavenly hosts
Though my babies never grew
I have shawls both pink and blue
O mother, mother, come here now
I need your arm ,these thoughts hurt me
My linen closets ready yet
I know my babies can’t come back
Now I’m old,I’d like to see
Their eyes so gentle smile their plea
Tantrums, shrieks and other noise
I would welcome any voice
And one might look like my dear love
Why did God take them above?
Mysterious are his ends and days
How can humans know his ways?
The Lord may give, the Lord may take
Blessed be his wounded Face
For God himself does suffer too
His eyes wet diamonds , polished dew
Category: emotion
For men may come and men may go,
Dr Smith that lucky man.
Had a wife called Mary Anne.
He gave her children twenty two.
How ever did this woman do?
She had many helping hands
To take her children on the sands.
They swam in batches in the sea.
And then she took them home for tea.
She had triplets,she had twins.
She even had one set of quins.
So loneliness was quite unknown.
And all were trained to use the phone.
She was a very sturdy wife.
She worked very hard at life.
But once a week she went to town
And looked at bags and evening gowns.
But Dr Smith did not go out.
He was dusting , have no doubt.
At night they went to bed and loved
Just like a pair of turtle doves.
In the morning she rose up
And made some tea in a big cup.
She had a tiny chunk of time.
For such a one,this is no crime.
We all need a peaceful break,
To sit by our own inner lake.
To see the fish and watch the sun
As gold and glowing up it comes.
So if you have many children too,
Take heart from this small tale.
She took her time to meditate…
And her heart never failed.
For men may come and men may go,
and likewise children too.
You need to have some free “me time.”
Whatever else you do.
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Never write a letter full of spite
The consumer age is passing with the dead
I tried to shop again but Sainsburys have said
You can’t shop twice a week or twice a day
We will have to learn once more to play
Learn another language,read good books
Help another, teach them how to cook
Go outside and breathe the purer air
Write a poem and then write one with flair
Walk around the street when it is clear
Drink from cans filled up with freezing beer
Take a photo of a tree you like
Never write a letter full of spite
Surely we can gradually adapt
If we survive the madness and the traps
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Shame is bitter, wrecks our feeling heart
I see down in the valley of the Lea
Tower blocks and numerous tiny homes
Here the Vikings came, oh, savagery
The valley is so ugly it alarms
As I look at my books, it’s unfair
I feel sad for children who have none
Our average reading age grows lower every year
I feel angry at our leaders nothing done
During Lockdown where shall children play?
Those who have no gardens shut indoors
The end point of such suffering is dismay
Humiliation grows right in a heart’s deep core
Shame is bitter, wrecks our feeling heart
A home for Satan made with thoughtless art
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I wish you had a bookcase in your head
I wish I were in Venice in a boat
My lover has just tried to kiss my goat
Why is love so pure a threat to men?
Tender feelings flow, I’m home again
Should I eat a pancake for my tea
I’ll text you when the boat is out at sea
I want a man who smells like apple pie
Oh,Lord send one here quickly or I’ll die
I did once see someone turn the other cheek
But now he has arthritis so he weeps
I wonder is it legal to keep sheep?
I’d like a small one near me as I sleep
Some get married, some still live in sin
I want a man who loves a wheelie bin
I cut the hedge with clippers, next my hair
Difficult as I have little there
I once taught Econometrics blind
The students passed, and then I lost my mind
I prefer topology to food
After that I might say something lewd
Did you ever laugh when fast asleep?
My husband was so merry so oblique
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Where our attention lies
I had a fissure on my worn old thumb
The pain was so severe my eyes both ran
I felt self pity, why is life so cruel?
All day I had grieved like some old fool
Then I saw some lights flash in my eye
Soon the sight had gone, I quite blind
My eye, its lids, its lashes full of blood
I had to lie face down upon my bed
Three months passed then I had vision twice
The eyes confused, my mind seemed full of spite
Their experimental surgery may help
Another person back to normal health
The eye stitched up, I thought about my thumb
Without perspective we are quite undone
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A rondel
I feel you presence and I almost see
The face that was so loving .sadly gone
There may be millions but you were my own
The anguish and the joy were all for me
As we walked the white sands by the sea
Picking sea shells, seeing washed white bones
I feel you presence and I almost see
The face that was familiar,strangely gone
We had a home, we had a nutmeg tree
We grew apples,rosy in the sun
Flavour vanished like the honeycomb
Yet salty flavours linger in the sea
I feel you presence but I cannot see
The face that was so loving, known by none
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Bitterly sweet lockdown
I confess to doing this funny little drawing ,Katherine
We loved each other lately life was sweet
Till lockdown ,isolation , iron walls
So we’ll have to speak .oh we’ll have to speak
From the opposite side of the street
We hoped we’d live a while before the grief
As we said on our long video calls
We loved each other, we loved to love each other
So our lives were bitterly sweet
We longed to touch, to hug , to kiss at least
But unlike cats we would not caterwaul
Now we’ll have to feel , oh, we’ll have to kneel
On the opposite side of the street
We may be wrinkled with bright yellow teeth
It has been known for both of us to fall
We love each other, yeah we love each other
For old age is not a defeat
We loved our neighbours, even those deceased
We’ve had hard times but none that bit so deep
How can we feel ,oha how can we feel
On the opposite side of the street?
I wanted you beside me when we sleep
I’ve even bought us fifty five new sheets
We love each other, yes, we love each other
So our life is succulent, sweet
But how can we touch, how can we keep in touch
From the opposite side of the street?
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If your aim is good
Why do people boil eggs?
They need to keep getting into hot water
Why do others fry eggs?
They want to make sure there is nothing live in there
And furthermore, why poach?
To annoy landowners.
Why are eggs so popular?
They can’t speak.
Eggs are used in baking, why?
They need to be useful
Can one egg be enough?
Yes, if your aim is good.
Can I live on eggs for a few days?
If you are very small and light
Can I eat just a few eggs for all my meals
Not the same ones.
Is bread a good idea for egg sandwiches?
It’s essential for any sandwich regardless
Is an egg good for the old?
The old what?
Can I polish the floor with eggs?
Dropped them again?
How about the chest of drawers
Who was he?
Why do people throw eggs at politicians?
Because they look so underfed, I imagine
But it’s a waste of money!
Views differ but rotten eggs will do or ones more than 5 weeks old
Can eggs last longer if coated in vaseline?
Longer than what?
Do hens grieve for their eggs?
I can’t take any more
Anymore what?
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Even in the rain, light gave him joy
The first warm days, the birds sing in their nests
So brilliant is the sun it seems new born
In the shady green I take my rest
The art of living cannot be a test
Nor can it leave a lover all forlorn
The first warm days, the birds sing in their nests
When surprised by joy, we regain zest
Despite the costs of living and its storms
In the shady green let’s take a rest
Before he died, he sat,he gazed out West
Even in the rain, light gave him joy
The bright, warm days, the birds sing in their nests
I remember Arnside, green and blessed
The hills across the bay where we have climbed
In the shady green let’s dream and rest
In our childhood there the patterns form
Hope to harvest now the rich, ripe corn
The clear blue days, the birds keep warm their nest
In the shades of Arnside let me rest
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No gowns for NHS staff
If you are ill the nurses have no gowns
The doctors neither, nor a dressing gown
Don’t let them borrow yours ,all’s upside down
We can’t have naked people in the town
The government will rue this nudity
When Boris Johnson flies into a tree
We’ll see his valorous organ on TV
Whatever can the matter really be?
Why can’t the textile trade make us nighties
On the NHS most stuff is free
The towel laid across your aching knee
My BT Hub is dying can’t they see?
Oh, I feel shame I live in Sodom here
Gomarrah can’t be far behind,don’t leer
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Emile’s in ecstasiulation
Oh,Emile got up, he yawned he stretched
It was cat pandiculation
For cats get stiff and cats get tense
But they won’t write no dissertations
Emile called to Stan and Stan got up
Pet manipulationion
Stan made tea and fed his cat
Emile’s ecstasisulation
Mary came and she saw Stan
Oh, a manifestation?
Are you real,she , called to him
What impertinentication!|
I like your cheek, her husband shouts
Show me your appreciation
Where is that, his dear wife said
Does it dwell under my apron?
Well,Leonard Cohen has mentioned this
I’m damned by my own veneration
Oh,Stan get up and get some gin
This is pure excruciation
Calm down,Mary.I am back
This is a mere notification
I have got myself another man
What a pestification
Does he sleep by you in bed at night
There may be an evacuation
Don’t be rude, we both thought you had gone
I’ ll drown in my own perspiration
I feel such shame at seeing these men
It’s torment and it’s tribulation
The doctor told me you were dead
Is it conspirification?
Send a code to my android phone
That will verify my restoration
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What we most fear
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Henne
Hennetwistle has a railway stop
The name is Viking now it’s usually spelled
Entwistle, where reservoirs fill up
Manchester wants water , here it’s held
Too Thirlmere is an artificial lake
For tea in Manchester, those thirsty folk
How much more d’ye think that they will take?
Hamlets drowned, dull cypress trees that cloak
I once passed through Darwen on a train
On the way to Ilkley with my aunt
No memory of bliss with me remains
Except the flowers so wild, their ghosts still haunt
Yet nowhere else gives me the feel of home
This landscape is my body and my soul
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On an egg
Necessary evil is a verbal construct
Rapacity under the cover of contention is still greed
My nerves have weals he said.
I am as nervous as a naked nun in a room full of people who sleep in fur coats
Never pull off tomorrow what you can ease off today.
Keep your stare on!
If you never get dressed,you need never undress.
I took out a new lease on his wife,She is frilled.
.He bought me an apron for Xmas so I fried it for his dinner.That will do the trick… next year he may give me a sausage
And no,I never made a Freudian slip in my wife.
He said he wants to borrow my life!
What do you say to a cup of tea?
You look hot!
I’m going to work on my bag
Can I buy dog food during crackdown?
Where do I park the dog?
I’m going to shirk your strong legs
I wanted a cook book now I’m an indecent accountant
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Whatever suits your heart
Am I an idolator today
For to St Jude I have been known to pray
Patron of the Hopeless, the Outcast
I call on him to find my shopping list
I call on him when I have lost my phone
And long to hear my husband’s mobile groans
If this ignites distress I am to blame
The fires of love are what keep women sane
I call on him while homesick though at home
Without my love the house feels empty, lone
Does God detest me when I pray for aid?
For these years, with suffering I have paid
Say or sing whatever suits your heart
We never gain the end if we don’t start
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Wandering
I walked,I stumbled where I’d never been
No friend nor ally guided me nor could
In the mesmerising sharp pain of my grief
Wandering like an outcast , never queen
Reason was no aid in that dead wood
I wandered through the shadows of my dreams
I felt the ground beneath me swirl and seethe
As if to kill me too or spill my blood
In the desolate place of darkness deep
Rosemary,remembrance, flowering wreaths
Inside the heart will mercy come to flood?
I wandered where to love would be obscene
But in the arctic wastes , surprised by god
In late winter trees will start bud
I wandered on until my heart revived
From that place of peril came new life
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The pleasure of Confession
Pray Father,I jave no sins to confess.What is the most common sin you hear about?
Hurting the feelings of loved ones or strangers by projecting our ill will into them and
then attacking them.
How about adultery?
Is that a proposal?
You naughty little animal!You know what I mean.Don’t tease me.I am sensitive but I’m ok.I sleep all night and sin all day.Is adultery common?
It is very common and shows poor taste ,so if you want to be less vulgar leave it out.
I am long past adultery now.I am too stiff for sexual athletics.Though with more
acupuncture,one never knows.Besides I am not married any more.
Surely there is something else wrong you must have done recently? You are only human
To be honest,Father,I believe we are often blind to our faults and we would need to bring
some other people along here to say how we have treated them.And then we’d find out
our sins more easily from them.
Well,there is some truth in that but we only need a random sample of your sins.
One will be a metonym for the rest.
Is that the right word?
Well,if it’s not it’s near enough,my child.
I am older than you;you must know.
I am sorry to say that is not a sin,my dear lady.Try harder.
I suffer from scruples…………… is that bad.?
Very bad.What are they about?
Doubts.
Give them up.Believe you did your best.
How can I be sure?
Well, we are never sure of anything in this life but we it will kill us to brood all day
Well, it does sound selfish when you put it like that
Now, drop that heavy bag of worries and run about the garden
I can’t run but I will have more fun
Now you’ve got it, my child.
Thank you and good night
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The main point of my existence has been to demonstrate that blonde bimbos can be brilliant.
Or more truthfully, it’s ethics that matters
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The whisper
I walk in sadness as fish swim the sea
I can’t rememeber how life felt before
The foetus and the feel of gravity
Death will come with ,without decree
The other world a room with a closed door
I walk in sadness as fish swim the sea
The pain, the blood, the whisper and the grief
Could any woman wish for any more?
The foetus lost, the ropes of gravity
What is human dies without a plea
Ah, the garments in the baby store
I walk as sad as fish flow with sea
From such anguish, we may wish to flee
Unless beneath our feet there’s solid floor
To hold the foetus wrapped in love. oh, thief!
Life may cackle like a randy whore
You can’t buy babies in the liquor store
I walk in sadness as fish fill the sea
The foetus drowned, the urgent grave, now you.
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Food for the desperate yet creative person
This should pass the time for a bored person who needs a challeng
e Brussels sprout Souffle
An earthy souffle using Brussels sprouts and mozzarella cheese
https://recipeland.com/recipe/v/brussels-sprouts-souffle-33318
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We don’t see what is there,we see ourself
The eye is not a camera taking shots Our mind affects the aspect we perceive And what it feels important it will spot Give grace or hatred,cause us all to grieve. When we are afraid ,we see the worst We see disgrace or ruin as our fate As if our self for horror has a thirst So all the little details we collate Yet when we love we see before us joy The flowers sing, the birds dance in the air We see no evil nor with hatred toy All aspects of our world appear more fair. We don't see what is there,we see our self To learn ,we must employ all human wealth |
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In the sighing woodland ,birds go by
In the wanton woodland ,birds flash by
Busy with their mates and with their nests
Caught a glimpse there in my cornered eye
I walk held up by silence undefied
Life is plain when we don’t send the texts
In the gentle woodland ,birds flash by
I call out softly with a plaintive cry
No bird will understand my strange request
Caught in movement from my cornered eye
The sun showed through the highest branches sly
Lit the birds up as it wandered West
In the mossy woodland ,birds arise
Nature’s not in lockdown as we are
They find their food, the insects and the rest.
The many coloured berries gleam like stars
We do not see the murders and the feasts
The magpies eating nestlings we detest
In the shadowed woodland ,birds flash by
I see this from the corner of my eye
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Where God’s in hell
The sadness of the television world
Where actors have no character to share
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 he is alone
Where he can see a Zoo in Montreal
Or hear hyenas as they make their calls
The sadness as we toss out ancient books
And never teach our children how to cook
The imaged food is perfect in young eyes
But when we live on that I think we die
The sadness when our neighbours have blind eyes
The sadness as our culture slowly dies
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I get drunk without a single drink
I did not know my mind was strong a sin
My wickedness was choosing to be thin
My ringlets seemed far wilder than cats’ screams
The torture and the vividness of dreams
I picked up books and read them in an hour
How could I guess the wreckage of men’s power?
I made pastry, I baked cakes of wheat
To honour God , my father, the elite.
In my pram I gave the neighbours shocks
Electric was my verbal skill and luck
They asked me how to vote and who should win
I sucked my dummy as my thoughts all ran
I sit and listen by the kitchen sink
For I get drunk without a single drink
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Over burned spaghetti and red wine
God has made men suffer making me
As beautiful as morning by the sea
Because I’m only interested in maths
I have long since left the garden path
I never look in mirrors or deep ponds
Narcissus eat your heart out in ferns’ fronds
I never used to wonder how I looked
When my eyes were glued on a textbook
What irony that men would love me so
I thought myopia would make them shy
I thought they’d like to talk of Wittgenstein
Over burned spaghetti and red wine
But now I’ve learned how beautiful I looked
Lying on the sofa with a book
Alas it is too late for any more
I see the edge of Heaven by the door
God may seem ironic, it’s a test
I may kiss you once if you insist
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Before we have the words
The childish jealousy, the painful heart
The remnants of a past that live within
Which make my skin feel pain, that make it smart
Measured feelings appear on noone’s chart
We hide our knowledge of our own dark sin
The childish jealousy, the painful heart
It comes too fast, takes too long to depart
Before we have the words, can thought begin?
Unthought knowledge,wordless, makes skin smart
Can action makes us better deal with thought?
What protection helps the smarting skin,
The childish jealousy, the painful heart?
Can virtue, unlike love, be sold and bought?
Turn the phones off. numb the brain-made din
Unwanted knowledge peeves the soul and heart
Like the dangerous wall that cut Berlin
We defend ourselves, don’t let life in
The childish jealousy, the hating heart
Make my very self feel pain.I want no part
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After him
The gravity of loss brought me to earth
Beneath the rotting leaves, I lay with worms.
I wondered if I were of any worth
No more to be enchanted by love’s mirth,
I with unnamed particles was turned.
The weight of loss bears down the heart to earth.
The weight of love has readied us for birth
The fragments moulded with the love that burns.
I learned we need not wonder over worth
My sorrow brought no guilt nor fear of wrath
I am both sharp eyed eagle ,twisted worm.
In my little grave, I loved the earth.
Like the adder, shocked into rebirth.
I from silent underworld had learned
Not to judge my soul nor think of worth.
I shall not fear the flames of hell that burn.
When blackness is accepted, may one learn?
The weight of loss breaks down the soul to earth
With dusty shredded leaves, we then convers
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I suck upon this lump
I suck upon this lump, this errant growth
As if it were a sweet or tooth unbroke
It cannot be removed but will it die
Ot getting spiteful ,will it multiply?
I suck on it though never on my thumb
Being deprived by mouth will make me dumb
It’s cheaper than a cigarette or sweet
Next I’ll be a cannibal,my meat,
I suck it hoping I can make it die
And then the world will feel much less awry
I want back my own mouth as a clear space
Not this horrid monster of disgrace
Yet how divert my self from its own thoughts
Feeling toothless, humour can’t be bought
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Feel the woodland beauty as in prayer
The hurricane has turned into a breeze
The sun shines on a squirrel leaping high
The birds are hiding in the holly tree
Every human being will agree
We’d better live, if soon we knew we’d die
The hurricane has turned into a breeze
Soon will come the butterfly and bee
And every little insect that can fly
The birds are hiding in the holly tree
I like hills.my lover likes the sea…..
Different people different loves arise
The hurricane has shrunk into a breeze
Lilies hide, so deep, love’s mystery
Then its offspring decorate our days
The blackbird sings atop the holly tree
Feel the woodland beauty as in prayer
Trust the unknown darkness at its core
The scary wind has turned into a breeze
The doves are cooing from the maple tree
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I dreamed I rode a tricycle last night
I dreamed I rode a tricycle last night
Large and painted blue without a bell
Then I met my doctor,what a sight
He told me he had lately seen the light
And wished to be a monk inside a cell
I dreamed I rode a tricycle last night
Ted Hughes had gone out fishing for a pike
The army in my head was doing drill
Then I met my doctor,what a sight
I see the almond blossom, what delight
My sister thinks I’ve left her in my Will
I dreamed I rode a tricycle last night
Yet I am weary with my oversight
I am rarely mad enough to kill
Unless I met a doctor out on strike
Because of such a strike I lost my sight
The Eye emergency was left too late
They say that if I sue I’ll feel a chill
Surgeons with knives on my window sill
