I hope that you won’t  use me if you bake.

My heart  is cracked like almonds are in cakes
Often  they are bought already  ground
I hope that noone here intends to bake.

I used to see small cakes with almond flakes
In the days of pence, shillings, and pounds
My heart  is cracked like almonds are in cakes

But every heart  has got its  many cracks
Every person suffers from life’s wounds
I hope that noone here intends to bake.

And many hearts have been with   fake love  broke
Yet vulnerable and human we resound
We cover up our hearts with a thick cloak

Some are givers, some can only take
Both are needed when we make a friend
I hope that someone here intends to bake.

Some are rigid and can never bend
Some are agile and will always blend
My heart  is cracked like almonds are in cakes
I hope that you won’t  use me if you bake.

 

The sunrise and the odour of men’s feet?

Will Theresa May be merrier  next year?
Will Boris Johnson  super dye his hair?
Will British people stop their hateful strife
As Brexit has struck fear into our hearts?

Why can we not enjoy the pleasures sweet
The sunrise and the odour of men’s feet?
The  dirty laundry blinds us with its white
And all my poems are  called a  load of tripe.

Can we not enjoy the polyester shirts
Of men who sweated copiously a-flirt
The nylon sheets will roll us out of bed
They can be washed by water in a flood

Will Charles become our King and rule us well
Will Princess Di rise up and give him hell?

I’ll deceive you whenever you wish.

4655668_f260

Please set alight as  soon as your pen is working  and you find the japer

Be Misrael in a Blair Tee.

Don’t keep me banging on like this, whenever, I am ad hoc again.

Do I talk too Dutch?Please shell me.

My, the Samaritans have back up.TheWaqf.

Am I too tight for you? It’s my brains.

Are you still bare? I am.

Are you overcrafted? No aitch.

The Open University offered me a tub once.

Are you still arrive yet? Me neither.

I was a very intelligent dunce.So follow my selections.

I used to teach wrath at Oxford when I was a splongeur.

Does my sign put you down? I am sorry, fate.

I am missing you so dutch.Why won’t you perceive me?

I’ll deceive you whenever you wish.

Do sponsor my phone balls, please.

My electricity is surprising

I paid a huge bill, last streak.

They keep frisking me; I am pure.Well,sort if.

Why is money so cunning?

I have forgotten my PIN  jumbles again for all my credit yards.Am  I in a bauble now?

I am sorry. I  got married away.Twice.

Where will it haul wend…?

Was sin ever original?

Nobody believes in sin any bore.It’s  No, Satan

Who relieves God?

Come to the Tempus with me,fugit?

Love is never a sin

Pray, Father, give me a good blessing.It’s ten weeks since my last decision.
What was that, my dear?
To lose my Catholic Faith, Father!
Why are you here in that case?
I can’t manage to lose it!
Well, you are not trying hard enough, my child.
My wife says I’m very trying.
Your wife?I thought you were a woman yourself!
Yes, I’m a lesbian now.
Do you practise it?
I don’t need more training, I’m really good at it all.
That’s a sin for a lesbian…
Thank God.I have a sin to confess…I was lost for words
More than one sin if you are married.
Why, does marriage make one more sinful?
It gives you more temptation
That’s why you get married ,so you can be tempted and give in
Catholic lesbians are not allowed to marry
You mean we should be living in sin?
No, you should be chaste
I am often chased by men.Does that count?
You know I don’t mean that… you are teasing me.
Well, I saw you running after me last week
It’s not my fault if you are running in front of me.
I was walking till I saw you coming!
Well, at least I’m normal.
Is it normal for a man of 89 to run after women?
Don’t worry, I have not caught one yet.
But it’s the principle of it.Well, anyway, I went to Holland and married a blonde poet.
Are there any left?
Look here, I am the sinner tonight!
So am I.
This is not a competition
Yes, it is!
Oh, no.Please give me absolution now
Right, your penance is to stop hailing Mary and whatever else you do in bed with her.
She’ll be so sad… is that a good idea?
Well, I don’t know.Life is confusing.Giving up one sin causes another one.What am I to say?
I believe if you love anyone properly it is never a sin
Well, that’s worth musing on amidst the News of war and murder.
I stole a lemon pie from a shop.Now that is a real good old fashioned sin.
MMmmmmmm give me half and we’ll say no more.
No more.
No mor

So cats feel proud of their unique access

Do cats feel proud of their unique access
At any time they  need a loving touch
On the laps of humans whom these cats possess?

They may stalk off  or lingering caress
Then bite  the hand that gave to them so much
Do cats feel proud of their unique access?

When  cats are lost it gives immense distress
To owners who by loving them feel rich
Theirs the laps that these dark cats possess?

Evolution’s brought to them success
As proud, they eye the world where they insist
They are owed  their  full, unique access

In a  home, a cat will  miaow, God bless
While rubbing  on our ankles with odd nips
Asking for the laps that they possess

I have even known a cat to kiss
As if to total intimacy pushed!
So cats feel proud of their unique access
To the laps of folk whom these  brave cats possess

Stan and Mary peer through windows.

16425956_855594144580465_2247767998034181588_n

After dinner Mary and Stan  often went for a longish walk.They liked to go to a road where the richer people  of Britain lived.,where there were some Georgian houses and one Tudor house.
At dusk they would stroll by looking into the lighted windows to see how the rooms were decorated.And if the front garden was large sometimes they crept in to see more
One beautiful  house they liked from the outside was spoiled for Mary by the garish tartan wall paper.
What sort of people would live there, she asked Emile who was in her handbag.with his head peeping out
Well,they have a cat called Percy,he mewed softly.
Why Percy?It is a noble name from the British past of course,she answered…
Earls of Percy were involved in affairs of state.
Well.Percy is Chinese,Emile said to her wittily.
He ought to be called Hu Ar U then,Mary joked ,or tried to as her sense of humor was somewhat lacking or maybe just odd.Still she looked lovely despite her moth eaten clothes bought in Sales in colors nobody else wanted like purple and lilac and bottle green.
She and Stan crept slowly up the garden path and peered  nervously into the empty sitting room trying to identify the paintings on the walls.
All of a sudden, a woman who was completely naked came into the room and lay modishly on a sofa as if she were a trained  dancer.She was a sight for sore male eyes.
Are they about to have a drawing class,Stan whispered.
She must be a model for a Life Class or an abstract woman ,with cat ,if Percy gets into the frame,Mary mused
Percy might scratch her then.Stan muttered.She could scream.
Suddenly a loud voice was booming at them.
What the hell are you doing in my garden?
There stood a big man in plus fours and and an oversized red jumper with matching cheeks
We were admiring your wall paper,Mary said.I think it is very unusual.
He smiled in gratification.
I chose it,he cried.All by my self.
But why is there a nude lady on the sofa,Stan enquired.
I am so annoyed, the man told them.My fiancee likes to walk around nude but she forgets to draw the curtains first.
Does she want to make an exhibition of herself,Stan enquired hopefully.
We wondered if it was for a life class, you know,students learning to draw and become artists of note.
Well,that’s a good idea said Arthur thoughtfully.
The woman got up and came over.She opened the wondow.To their astonishment she was Annie,their neighbour and Stan’s mistress too.Stan might have known but he had kept his face immobile after years of practise.
Fancy seeing you here,Annie whispered creatively in her sweet little voice
I am trying to seduce Arthur but with no success so far  except a marriage proposal.
You need to be more discreet and indirect, said Stan.
If you act like this he will think you are an artist’s model and likely to be featured in the Tate Modern Annual Show of Infamy .Now, would a man like this marry or even sleep with such a woman as you appear to be walking around like Eve before she ate the apple?
I don’t know said Annie but my clothes are all in the tumble dryer,anyhow.
Did you wet yourself? Mary asked her kindly.It’s nothing to be ashamed of.We all do it now and then especially since public conveniences were shut down across the UK.And now ,even coats are machine washable.
Well,I knocked over some lemon barley water in a big jug and so I decided to wash all my clothes. while I was here as Arthur as a tumble dryer
That’s a  very strange tale Arthur told her.You look ravishing hanging out of the window with your nipples pointing up.Let me take a photo of
you.Say,Cheese
But will you put it on Twitter,Annie asked anxiously.
No,dear.I am not so cruel.Why don’t you get your clothes and make us all some tea .
I can’t make tea,she yelled and without pausing she dialled 999.
What is it Fire or Ambulance the lady receptionist asked politely?
It’s a kettle.
Is it on fire?
No ,it won’t boil.Can you send Dave the paramedic,please, as he makes good
please, as he makes good tea.
We are quite busy so it may be two hours or more she was told.
I thought this was an emergency service, Annie said.
But who defines what an emergency is? the lady asked her philosophically.
I will die without this tea, Annie informed her in a  ringing tone
Ok , hang up and I will send the ambulance now.
Arthur seemed a little surprised
I have private medical insurance,he cried.But they don’t make tea not even for old people.
Well,in the UK tea has always been   essential to the  National  Health
But it will soon be drying up and we shall get flasks from the dustmen on Sundays instead.
I just don’t believe it, Arthur said and he then passed out on the rug which stood in front of a bookcase full of leather bound volumes of poetry.
Will he  live?Read more tomorrow and pay the price… a few minutes of fun and gaiety.

I fear that they will hatch

The menu’s very limited today
The eggs so old, I fear that they will hatch
The bacon’s off ,the bread is green and dry.

Have a cracker, they look quite ok
The cheese is blue, here you are, just catch
The menu’s very limited today

The ham is here; oh, no I tell a lie.
I’ll warm baked beans if I can find a match
The bacon’s off ,the bread is green and dry.

Do you recall the Fray Bentos steak pie?
A tin only the starving could unlatch
The menu’s very limited today

I wonder could  I get protein from flies?
I cannot bear the awful thought, I flinch
The bacon’s off , the bread is green and dry.

Can I order pizza by the inch?
Or how about I fry the frozen mince?
The menu’s very limited today
The bacon’s off , the bread is green and dry.

 

 

A song about my cat

My cat went a roaming to find a new home.
Sing kitty,sing katty,sing Oh!
This cat was so clever he had his own comb.
Look up,now look down,stone the crows!

He went into the neighbours' and drank all their milk.
Sing,fridge raiding kitties.No,No!
Then he laid himself down on a piece of fine silk.
Sing,what the dickens,my lovely pillow!

He went to the butcher and ate all the steak.
Sing greedy,he's ruined my flow.
Then he went to the hairdresser for a shampoo.
Where else can a puttitat go?

He had no plastic,no money,no cheque!
Sing,cheater,sing creature,sing woe.
She sent for a Copper who paid the cat's bill.
And so  my puss came out all aglow.

Now my cat was glossy and plump and refreshed.
Sing:fancy,it all goes to show.
So he came home and said this place is best.
And he picked up his cello and bow.

He scraped some Sibelius and also some Grieg.
Sing: Northern lights can always glow.
But,he looked so self satisfied,I felt annoyed....
One should not let one's narcissism show.

But he was so handsome,I was glad he came home.
Sing,grateful,sing katefull,sing Ho!
And I hope he will never again want to roam.
Sing glory.sing story;Sing So!

I don’t even know where adultery is

funnydots
 Adultery,  abstract art by Kate

Mary was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether to throw out a book called Schrodinger ‘s equation for idiots.The title had more than one meaning, she thought to herself.
I think that is for the recycling bin, she told her cat, Emile.What a pity you can’t read.You could have read it.
I don’t want to read stuff like that.I only like Dad’s cartoon books.
Where are they, Mary asked him, her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant?
They are in that plastic box in the kitchen, Emile told her.I read them at night.
How can you read if there is no light?Please don’t start sinning as I don’t want you to have to become a Catholic.
I can’t become a Catholic, said Emile.I am Jewish.
Well, St Paul was Jewish, Mary told him.Until he had an epileptic fit .
So having a fit can make you a Christian.That is very strange, the black cat told her with a twinkle in his eyes
Well, it’s not automatic, Mary replied.You have to pay.
What, pay  to become a Christian, I don’t believe Jesus would like that.
Well , he may be quite indulgent, sometimes Mary giggled.However, the Vatican and its wealth might not be quite what he was thinking of when he gave the Sermon on the Mount.
What sort of mount was it , Emile enquired.Was it a horse?
No, it was  more likely to  have been a donkey  as he was poor, you know
But he had things money can’t buy, the cat said philosophically.Like women who poured oil over his feet.What sort was it,?Was it like  that stuff Stan put in the car engine sometimes?
Don’t be so ridiculous.It was olive oil, Mary told him
Can we prove that, Emile murmured? His feet were no salad
No, I am using inductive reasoningMary stated logically.Olive trees are grown in that part of the world even now.
What is inductive reasoning, Emile mewed
Why it’s the opposite of deductive reasoning, of course, Mary stated flatly
I am glad I can’t read, Emile said.It’s bad for you to have to learn all of that.It was ok for the ancient Greeks.They had no televisions.I’d rather watch Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra singing Vivo per lei.Whatever that means.She is from New Zealand  by the way.
What difference does that make Mary teased him?
No need to be rude, Emile cried.I was only passing a remark
That was what Stan’s mother used to say when  he told her off for saying my maple mousse was like something out of a tin.
Where was it from?
The Joy of Cookery. a big American cook book or maybe Jewish Cookery by Florence Greenberg or Marks and Spencers
Did you get that  book because I am Jewish, Emile purred?
No, I didn’t even know you were.How did it happen?
My mother was living with a Rabbi in Liverpool and he told her she could not  miaow on the Sabbath so she kind of assumed she was Jewish.As for my father.. nobody knows.
Emile, don’t start saying you are the Messiah.I have enough trouble already.I don’t want you to be  walking on water and helping women taken in adultery
I was not me who took them, said Emile.I don’t even know where Adultery is.
I think I’ll ring 999.We need help before we go mad.
Sometimes going mad seems the better option, Mary said sadly.A few  voices telling me what to do might be helpful
As long as they are not Michael Grove and Horace Watson, Emile replied. As for Freezer May……
And so say all of us

You  porcupine, he shouted out, I prefer a seal

My lover went to Lapland as he found  me rather warm
You  porcupine, he shouted out, I prefer a seal
Are you sure.I questioned him, for I did not wish him harm
I have to get away from you, I  prefer my conger eel.

He set off in his motor car, the ferry was quite late
He  was a little angry then but soon he became calm
He got talking to a mermaid and  now she is his mate
She lives deep in the icy sea and he loves her frigid arms

I don’t know how you would feel, if after twenty years
Of being called a porcupine, when swaddled iin his arms
Your lover went  to the North Pole, and left you only tears
At least I can enjoy my bed without  his wild alarms

The melody is not the words but how they are combined
I  have lost all faith in men , unless their names form rhymes
I  know we have got clocks today but meter bends the time.
As dancing bends the space around the movers  rapt, sublime

 

Outside the Lamb and Flag

Flung into the heights by a fast car
I had a feeling time had gone  too slow
I  fluttered like an unsmoked black cigar
No fear nor anguish  gave me any blow

As I flew I looked down at the earth
I saw a screen where Einstein turned the wheel
The world’s a film and this is a new birth
There are dimensions peril makes us feel

Them I turned geometric in my flight
I reached the apex, fell to earth like stone
A flash of golden stars entered my sight
I lay upon St Giles; it thrashed my bones.

What we see is not all that is here.
Where’s the Lamb who runs the pub revered?

 

 

To love well  is an art we can enact

To love well is an art and is an act
Yet we must bear in mind this valued truth
We need a little space in love for hate

We also will not leave outside our tact
Indeed, of love,  that is the final proof
To love well is an art and is an act

A love match is not where we check our mate
Nor do we leave the imprint of a hoof
We need a little space in love for hate

A fight, a quarrel, disagreement, fate
At times we both appear  to be uncouth
To love well is an art we learn to act

When frenzy fades and wonder’s a  mere hint
We long  for that once honeyed sweet ,sweet mouth
We need a little space in love for hate

To love forever we must take an oath
That we will not, of our power, go boast
To love well  is an art we can  enact
Oh, leave a  home there for our wild, wild hate

 

Gravity disgraced

P1000268

There was a young lady from Ealing
Who slept upside down on the ceiling
When she was asked how
She said I don’t know
I stood on my head and I’m reeling

There was a young lady from Ealing
Who wept upside down on the ceiling
When she was asked why
She  said , well I cry
But gravity keeps interfering.

 

There was a young lady from Ealing
Who kept   cats of all kinds on the ceiling
When they asked her if
It was where she’d  like to live
She said, I’m bereft of desire and need healing

 

As if she will ever buy new clothes!

Chick pea pie and cats for the lively - Glimpses between the cracks:Alice's Looking Glass

Old sketch by me
As the start of the academic year approached, Dr. Rosa Benchez realised she was very behind with her wonderful list of plans.She intended to buy a new wardrobe and studied various treatises such as
Plan your perfect capsule for all possible occasions”
On the face of it, judging by the people in the shopping centre and the doctor’s waiting room most of Britain had already done that.
Skin tight short legged jeans from Tesco’s or Artigiano combined with varied T-shirts, sweatshirts or pyjama jackets, all worn with trainers and old knackered socks seemed to be thought ideal for almost every part of life.
In fact, some young women wore what looked like tights with no skirt on top as if to assert the rights of the vulva to be acknowledged wherever it might be, except in bed.
However, in some workplaces, people were expected to look slightly better dressed or  more creatively dressed if they worked for Advertising Agencies
Rosa had  won some money on the lottery and decided to spend it on  her clothes/
Here, look at this she said to Annie, once the mistress of Stan her neighbour, but now working for MI 7 training spies
What is it? Annie muttered nastily
It’s a blog about building a capsule wardrobe
Why can’t you decide for yourself, Annie asked cheekily?
I have never bought new clothes before except underwear. skinI am unsure about it
Thank the Lord for that!Second-hand underwear!More hot hand underwear would suit me.
I think that is blasphemy, Rosa told her boldly.
Don’t be ridiculous.Surely G-d must have a sense of humour, Annie cried
But what exactly is a sense of humour? I could laugh out loud seeing Trump shoving other politicians out of his way, but it’s a mournful kind of laughter, Rosa admitted.
Well, would G-d make jokes, Annie asked mutinously?
He made Donald Trump, Rosa teased her amiably
I  am sure DT would be ok if he were in a  different job.Quite what I cannot imagine.Selling rubbish to fools? Rosa mumbled.
Anyway, we have wandered off the path of righteousness.What clothes shall I buy?
How about five cashmere sweaters and five cashmere skirts and five pairs of beautiful flat shoes?
Then two pairs of skin-tight blue jeans and four skin tight T-shirts with logos or slogans on the front, like

Donkeys  bray with Theresa May
Hey, let’s pray for Madam May
Jeremy Corbyn, I  find he’s calming
I am a socialist.I  like to be kissed
B B Netanyahu, what on earth’s he gonna do?
Saudi Arabia, I’ll take euthanasia
The Sinai dessert makes women flirt
Palestinian olive oil  makes my onions boil
Cross over the Jordan, what is your poison?
Vote  for the Lib Dems, I’m a gentle old man
Bless me, Father.I have sinned, rather.
It is 10 minutes since my last Confession
Where is the nearest Catholic church? Thank you
I suffer from scruples, where are the loopholes?
I  ruminate daily, I’m the most perfect failure
We’re all here for a reason.Logic is treason
Theresa May but she will pay.
Theresa Might see the Light… do not wait for it will affright
If you are willing, I’d like a new filling
My dentist is a good.She pays me for my blood.
Free self-esteem now
I am a here now

I think we’d better have a nice cup of tea now , Rosa shouted.I’ll get my clothes in the Oxfam Shop
Emile purred as he liked Charity Shops where the staff were so kind to animals.Wy there where such shops devoting their entire profits to helping homeless cats.Who could ask for more?
And you’ll need a coat, cried Annie.And a mac! I’ll take you shopping.

 

 

 

From being wise, a fool I am now grown

Although I cared for my old one alone
It seems now he is gone I need advice
From being wise, a fool I am now grown
So I am given orders; oh, surprise!

Do I sleep or eat or wash my bras
Do I wear clean knickers in the morn?
Intrusive,disrespectful ,tra,la lah!
On these cheeky folks, I pour my scorn

If I turn to gypsy ways of life
A wooden caravan and my own horse
I will be troubled by the heat of strife
I fear I shall become an alien coarse

Where were  they when I travailed alone,
Carrying in my breast a heavy stone?

Try for a sort of controlled uncontrol,then.my dear, he murmured.

And here are Pandora’s socks, Professor Smith, quipped,as the female student in the front row fell asleep whilst sitting upright in a large armchair.
And I also have Achilles’ heel here.
Now for your project, I want you all to say Three Hail Mary’s.
A large bee stung my ass and I awoke and coughed up my soul onto the bed.
Get back inside, I cried.Keep me whole,give me oil,keep me churning.
Alright ,it muttered calmly.Don’t lose your head.
I have it well screwed on, I responded.
This is a surprise to see you.
Well, since Pandora lost her socks all the souls have been getting loose from their bodies.Women…why do they lose their socks so much?
After that,the doctor called.
Hi, he screamed.
For God’s sake, don’t do that, I shouted
I’m not dead you know..even though my blood pressure is zero.He smiled and handed me a blood sugar monitor.
Here you are,this will cure your pneumonia.
What about my new mania?
What is that?
I am interested in spirals…
Keep it under control.
The whole point of mania is to be out of control
Try for a sort of controlled uncontrol,then.my dear, he murmured.
What a clever idea, I told him.Goodbye
I swallowed the test kit and it cured the pneumonia immediately
That’s it ,folk

Thus God cried out and topped the EU chart

A peaceful solitude can be a joy.
A softer breath, a slower beat of heart.
While our minds are happy unemployed.

As it was for growing girl or boy
Before the throes of adolescence start
A peaceful solitude can be a joy.

When puberty arrives it is no toy
As, from our families, we soon will part
Though our minds are happy unemployed.

We do not wonder what our life is for
Or try to write a CV super smart
A peaceful solitude, remembered  joy.

Tormented  people can be a great bore
Unless we love them fully from the heart
Their minds are never happy unemployed.

I wonder who knocked down the apple cart
Thus God  cried out and  topped the EU  chart
A peaceful solitude can be a joy.
When our minds with God are unemployed.

Eeh by gum, I wish that I was here

DSC00054

I went visiting a rather silent neighbour
I thought that I could manage fine
After sitting feeling blank and boring
I went home to get  so drunk that I could dine

I had a problem with the oven settings
The sausages were as black as  grandad’s skin
The batter turned to biscuit thin and hardened
I ‘ll never  ever want a Toad again

I sat down, it was only Sunday evening
Six more meals to cook this coming week.
I must buy an oven thermometer
If only they made one that liked to speak.

What are all the quiet people feeling?
Would they like to talk but can’t for fear?
I find it hard to tolerate  their total silence
Eeh by gum, I wish that I was here

I was feeling a trifle excited

 

I was feeling a trifle excited
The meringues were all stuck to the plate
The jelly was yellow
The custard was mellow
And the cream was too thick to inflate.

I was feeling a tart in the market
I hardly knew which slice to bite.
My heart felt like sponge cake
With jam and cream in a lake
I’d a hard nut to crack in the night

The potatoes were smashed like my spelling
The chickpeas have tried to lay eggs
Yet the bacon was green
Unsmoked’s what I mean.
My larder is full of old nags

Why not have a bath?

 

DSC00078Emile loved the new purple bath that his owner and father Stan had just installed and longed to bathe in it.He indicated as much to Stan but Stan was not convinced.
“It’s rather large, Emile.And you can’t swim.”
So Emile , always adaptable, asked if he could have a bath in a bowl of warm water as a trial run.
Stan got a spare plastic bowl and filled it with warm water and some lavender bath salts. Emile climbed in cautiously.Cats don’t like to get wet usually but Emile was always happy to have a go.He stood in the water which came up to his chest.”Can you lie down?” Stan asked him.
“It’s too deep” Emile replied.So Stan took out some of the water with a jug and Emile lay on his back with his muzzle projecting from the water and his large amber eyes closed.The water began to turn grey.”This is relaxing”Emile miaowed

.”I think therefore I am.”
That’s Descartes.” murmured Stan
.”Fortune favours the brave” miaowed Emile
That’s better” said Stan.”I love Pascal.”
“My goodness thought Emile, this man is woman crazy.Now he wants Pascale as well as Annie and Mary and he’s 98.Will he ever stop?
So to prevent further thought, Emile leapt out of the bowl and onto a large soft towel Stan had put beside it.As Stan dried him Emile purred rapturously.
“Would you like a blow-dry?” Stan inquired humorously.
“Not tonight Stanley, enough is as good as a feast!”
Stan emptied the bowl down the sink.
“My sainted aunt, look at this dirt and to think that cat’s been sleeping with me for 17 years.”
Stan wants to get Emile some swimming lessons.He’ll have to look on google or yahoo to see what’s available.
Meanwhile, he goes downstairs to make supper for Mary and himself.Fried corned beef in batter with suet dumplings and sauteed potatoes followed by apple crumble and clotted cream.Just what the doctor ordered! Stan’s doctor is rather odd.He thinks fat is good for us.

Yours sincerely, Lord

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Dear God,
Decide with me>You see  the evil minds
The darkness weeps; bairns in me confide
When mother’s helpers fail and contort glee,
Smoke all the kippers and open up for me.

Drafts blew  off  my clothes and  cinders  lburned the day;
Earth’s toys grow thin; its stories passive,grey.
Change and  replay is all around  for free
O Thou who changest notes, save some notes for me.

Come not  with bull terriers, nor as the king  with wings
But underwrite  the good, with healing  and  new strings,
Tears for wholesome souls, new heart for every  bee
Come to  lines of sinners, and be derided by a  flea

Thou on my shed in early youth laid tiles
And, though it  seems ridiculous  we’ve reversed them all  meanwhile,
Thou hast not written me, as oft as I ‘ve written Thee,
Yours sincerely,  Lord,

Kate and her house bee

PS  Please write to answer me
Kindness wins the plea.

 

I feel like a dead duck

I feel like a dead duck.
Don’t worry ,I always kill them before I roast them.
Can I have some wit?
You mean sauce?
Oh, Sole Mio.
Sorry , I have had no fish in today.
I feel like a burned out shell.
That will be cheap.I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts.
Two will do me.
But how about him?
Et tu, Brute?
Sorry,we don’t serve barbarians.
Well,it’s the biggest day of my wife.
She is about to give birth…..
Only if it can be in a stable.
Why so?
It will look good on the Xmas cards.
But they’ve not been invented yet.
Oh,my God!

And here’s me thinking it was just my burning thrush.

When you have no partner your opportunities for committing sins are greatly reduced.

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You know, I  think I want to go to church again and I must go to Confession before I go to Mass.But the trouble is that when you have no partner your opportunities for committing sins are greatly reduced.Especially if you don’t go out much
You can’t have a row with them about what TV programme to watch or which side of the bed you sleep on nor about whether they pull the duvet off you in the middle of the night.So you can’t blame them when you feel tired.
You can’t get angry when they ask you to wash their trousers again either or about them wearing a cashmere sweater in bed.Also you see less of their relatives and they were always good for producing sins like envy, rage, jealousy and so on.In fact their relatives change and become saintly so it’s even worse.I suppose that might make me sin.
It’s really hard, though, to commit a sin now so I am wondering   if I should get  a partner purely for the purpose of becoming a sinner who can them be saved by the Sacrament of Confession.I always thought it was odd because if God exists he must know our sins.. in fact  he might know more than we do.He must.
With that in mind, I  wonder about going into therapy as surely that would make  me aware of all the questionable things I have done.Which is better: therapy or getting married? I suppose if I married a rich person they could pay for psychoanalysis for me but it would be a sin to marry purely for that reason.Is that Russell’s Paradox?
Or if I got 2 cats  I could be unkind to them and  not let them sleep on my bed.But I have to admit I cannot be unkind to cats.And I don’t like dogs in the house.Too much work.You might as well get married again as have a dog to care for.Although dogs don’t wear clothes and can’t shout and scream and demand sex at 3 am.Barking is not quite the same
.I suppose I could become a Quaker instead because it might be  tough to find a husband  who is happy for me to study Wittgestein and Sylvia’s  Wrath.My hair is no longer what it was.. my eyes are still blue  but now I have a scar on my face.I thought maybe no-one would notice but the dentist said,
Wow, he’s done a great job hasn’t he? Fantastic, there’s just a little lump here…. what little lump? She’ll have me back in Dermatology as soon as take my teeth out.It was a  little lump that began the whole damn business as it was a bit like a Russian Vine invisibly covering [ part of ] my face.Well I can proudly say I had 23 injections of local anaesthetic  in my face but the surgeon was very handsome.Greek…
Anyway I went out today with no sun cream on and that is really wicked when you’ve had what I had but the hypothalamus gland needs sunlight so my brother tells me.I have three brothers plus my aide P so I have plenty of men to tell me what to do or not to do.Still you can’t marry your brother can you? I wonder what the priest would say about that.I rest my case.By gum, it was heavy.I’ll take to drink

Teaching children not to smirk.

Oh, toilet with your flushing  plumbed
You are  the saviour of girls young
We had to go outside at night
To a closet with no light.
When menstruating, it was hard
To run in rain down the backyard
What a glory later on
We had a bathroom with plumbing
Now many folks have three  or more
One downstairs with its own door.
We used chamber pots  at night
Without putting on the light.
But children rarely woke  too soon
We’d have stayed in bed till noon.
Saturdays, my mother baked
All sorts of mysterious cakes
Then she knitted, sewed and  cried
For my dad who  who early died.
She sewed our clothes and brushed our hair
Didn’t bother with the stairs.
And she had her full-time work
Teaching children not to smirk.
She made them read and write in ink
She questioned them and made them think.
There was a loo for teachers use
Gosh, it flushed and was kept spruce.
Gone, the days of no bathroom
Gone the sweeping with the broom
Dysons are worshipped as  our gods
Getting dust out of the rugs.
One thing always puzzled me
Why did God want us to wee?

 

Ode of the sauce pan

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Oh, copper pan with silver lined
Now  your status exceeds mine
You are the best, the supreme pan
And I am a  mere, an also-ran.

I am made of stainless steel
So I don’t know  how to feel
But copper  has a warmth sublime
I wonder if you will be mine?

I’ll stand beside you on the shelf
And spin around, beside myself.
My heart is full, my mind is too
Won’t you tell me what to do?

Would you like a wedding dress
And a Rabbi there to bless?
Or an Imam or the Pope
He seems a really pleasant bloke

I am Jewish but do not need
To marry pans of  the same creed
I do  like some variety
Copper pan, please look at me!

Don’t reject me far too swift
I am easily dismissed
But stainless steel is very strong
Don’t  make me wait and think too long.

I may descend to paranoia!
I’m being watched by the chip fryer.
Let me feel  your copper form
That will  make me safe and warm

To be fried in boiling oil
The notion makes my soul recoil
Please forgive my  etiquette
I am polite till I forget

Continue reading “Ode of the sauce pan”

Perhaps life’s real answers will prove to be dietary

Modern society; oh, what notoriety!
A dress  one can see through; they make sure we do, do, do
I wonder  what I can  say  writing my poetry

Some folks are models of total sobriety
From the top  of the head to the well-heeled  big toe too
Modern society  creates much notoriety

I wanted to  practise medicine and psychiatry
But my unconscious mind  caught  that  terrible swine flu
I wonder what one can achieve by learning poetry?

I studied the foot and learned much “podiatry”
How to cut corns off   or   stick them  back: superglue
Modern society  maims  with notoriety

Perhaps life’s  real answers will prove to be dietary
Stop all this writing and run to the Super Zoo
What I can achieve just making this poetry?

When you phone me up  you say “is that you, Lou”
I’ll  say  I felt bitter but now I’m just” Boo Hoo”!
Modern society  creates notoriety
I wonder  where I   can live  with my poetry

It might confuse the cat in bed.

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Pray, Father,I give you my blessing
That’s the wrong way round.Never mind,Tell me your original sins.
We don’t have to confess those surely.We are born like that.
I mean I am fed up with boring sins like theft and swearing.
I don’t know if I can think if any sin except I bought my husband some soap called Allure.If it does allure he might be unfaithful and it will be my fault.
Don’t worry about the future.At least he will smell nice in bed.You should get Chanel Number 5
It might confuse the cat in bed.
Why, do  you make  love to the cat?
No, but the cat sits on top when we do it.
So what’s the problem?
If the cat hates Chanel Number 5 he might leave the room and love without the cat is  not what we are used to
But it’s not a sin!
Oh dear.I can’t think of anything else.
You must try harder
Do you mean to remember sins or to commit more?
Whatever,it gets really boring in here.
Would Jesus say that?
He didn’t speak English.
Won’t he have learned in heaven?
I know on earth everyone online must  know English but they have no Internet in heaven.
How  can you prove that?
Heaven was  there before it was invented
So was England!
I see what you mean.But if they had the internet it would make them sad to see us being so cruel to the vulnerable.
But only if they knew English!
Well for your penance write to the Council and ask for unisex lavatories.
I thought they were all the same except some have  differet handles.
I mean that there will be just lots of loos for all races,sexes and genders.You won’t have to prove your are biologically man or woman.
OK,Father and I will keep a diary of my sins online
Will it allow comments
I’ll have to see how I feel.
You feel nice to me.
How do you know?
Because I am your cat.
How did you get in there?
The priest is in love with me!
I DON’T BELIEVE IT!

 

The Humour of the Numinous.

 

Are we not too old for pleasures rash?

‘She held me in her arms and caressed me
Though she is 87 . I am 93.
I  felt a warmth run down my outside leg
The dog had peed on me, though taught to beg.
There was nothing else to do but strip right off.
When she saw me nude  it made her  froth
Are we not too old  for pleasures rash?
Why do you not  get the loving crush?
Get into bed and caress my left knee
For it gives excess suffering unto me.
Why go to bed when you need physiotherapy?
I read  that  lesbians enjoy sex,so why not me?
Well do you wish  me  bite   your  outer ear?
No,I prefer the  love without the fear.
Why not hug and kiss and say  night prayers?
We can get to  sex by gentle layers.
No,we are too old we cannot wait
We might die and it will be too late!
Well,if I die there are some younger folk!
Ah,but they don’t talk the way you talk.
So why are we in bed  just to converse?
I just desired to  be me and perverse.
Well, let me rub your back with chilli cream
If it hurts your bum ,you’ll have to scream.
What will the doctor think if I’m all red?
Just tell her   this: a tiger shared your bed
But would a cat be able to apply
This chilli cream to me at its first try?
I guess  I’ll have to  do a Ph.D
Called, what the cats I love have done to me.
Do you think I am a masochist?
I fear I cannot answer till we’ve kissed!
And after that  my memory is quite blank
If I am not a virgin,I’m a crank.
To think I had to wait till 93
To know what my own sex could do  to me.

Cafe menu

Cod rows on crust
Cod raised on toast
Salmon sand witches
Herring aid  chips
Fat beef  and moan.
Lamb chops home  groan.
Chicken. if you ask it!
Beef minces with harlots and turned hips
Toast lamb bundles with sweet potted toes;
Greasy pudding with meat spores and sprouts

Jelly sets
Free carnations  with milk
Figs in a blanket.
Busted tarts.
Lemon mice.
Yoga hurts,wide selection
Creme brew-lay.
Bavarian looms.
Jam and rubber sponge with dream
Ill bred and battered pudding with real raisins and bastard.

I wonder when Klein’s bottle will crash down?

Now woollen coats are very hard to find
And imitation fabric is designed
To look like wool ,especially  if you’re blind
But still desire to look    a mite refined!

But polyester has no warmth at all,
Though Rorsach blots on it might  darkly fall.
Mobius strips and scarves are   worn all day
They make me feel so trapped  I seem to sway

I wonder when  Klein’s bottle  will crash down
And give the  students   wiser ways to frown
For clothes with no dimension are a treat
For  those of us who have got  two blue feet.

If you like down  to wear upon your back
You are a goose and have no jokes to crack.