True medical comments from doctors to each other

•Discharge status: Alive but without permission.

Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady pregnant.
• She is numb from her toes down.
• By the time he was admitted, his rapid heart had stopped and he was feeling better.
• Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.
• On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it had completely disappeared.
• She has had no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
• The patient has been depressed ever since she began seeing me in 1983.
• Patient was released to outpatient department without dressing.
• I have suggested that he loosen his pants before standing and then, when he stands with the help of his wife, they should fall to the floor.
• The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.
• Discharge status: Alive but without permission.
• Healthy appearing decrepit 69 year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.
• The patient refused an autopsy.
• The patient has no past history of suicides.
• Patient has left his white blood cells at another hospital.
• The patient’s past medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past three days.
• She slipped on the ice and apparently her legs went in separate directions in early December.
• The patient experienced sudden onset of severe shortness of breath with a picture of acute pulmonary oedema at home while having sex, which gradually deteriorated in the emergency room.
• The patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
• The patient was in his usual state of good health until his aeroplane ran out of gas and crashed.
• When she fainted, her eyes rolled around the room

Unusual words

People from the heights of society

Use more Latin words with sobriety.

The plebs just use plain

Anglo Saxon remains.

So why not use both, for variety?

Unusual words may be fun;

Or else they might frighten someone

It’s background and meaning

Context and gleaning.

Look one up now and begin.

Greek word humor

Democracy, theocracy

How d’y’ spell bureaucracy?

Demonstrate, remonstrate.

How ‘s your curiosity?

Epidemics,academics.

I write all with these cheap bics.

Pan-demics and pot-demics

Greek is funnier than the flicks.

Pancreatic or dramatic;

If it fits then I will click it.

Panoramic, photographic

Radios , all full of static.

Melodramatic,Can we crack it?

If cathartic , we’ll all knick it.

Palindromic,testimonic,

If we write it let, them pick it

Good night

unnamed

I love little pussy, her coat is so warm,

And if I don’t tease her she’ll do me no harm.

For many misfortunes are brought on in error.

So be good to yourself and avoid that big mirror.

Lost my head

Doctor,Doctor!
What is it?
I have lost my head!
Go to the reception and see if they have any there.
You don’t understand!
Well, tell me more.
I’ve just bought myself a cashmere sweater.
How much was it?
Fifty pounds.
Well, that’s a real bargain.
Yes, it was £214 originally
Why was it so cheap?
It’s because I lost my head in the shop and kissed all the shop assistants.
Were they men or women?
I couldn’t tell really; they all wear pink trousers and spotted jumpers now.
But surely you could tell close up when you approached them?
Close up!I blew the kisses…. from the pavement.
I don’t believe this.You’d better see a priest.
I just saw one in the waiting room!
What!In here.What’s he doing?
I think he’s preaching to the converted.
But it’s unethical to tamper with sick people.
They all got up and ran out.I’m your last one.I’m a Mormon now, you see.
But you were a Catholic.
I needed a change and another wife.Or ten
You certainly have lost your head.Go before I do something I’ll regret.
What would that be?
I might swear
Perhaps the priest will help you.
Be off, you headless man.You brainless biped.
Cheerio then.See you tonight.
Why?
I’ll be ill again by then.It’s my obsessions.
Take them home and drown them in drink.
Can I have it on prescription?
I’m afraid not, but I can give you a good description.
I drink Tiger beer.
Why?
I’d like to be a tiger later on.
Be off.You are tempting me to hit you with a brick.
Do you have a brick in here?
Not yet but I can knock a hole in the wall with my hammer.Alternatively, I could use this waste paper basket.Jump inside.
I’m not a cat.
Oh, yes you are.
Oh, no I’m not.Cats can’t speak English.
How do you know that’s universal?
Well, French cats can’t speak French……
How clever.
How smart.
How insightful.
How delightful.
Excuse me, Doctor, there’s a dead priest here.
Well, I’m no good at raising the dead.
Well, you raised ten children.
No, my wife did that.I’m not even the father.
No, the Father is outside.
You mean this man was the father of my children…
Well, put it like this.He saved you all the hassle.
You can say that again.
He saved you all the hassle.

But why?

Don’t keep looking into the horror.

Has the cat got you wrong?

You are too quite.

Blanks to whom?

The oven won’t bake songs.

Can you fear me now?.

What do you think you are chewing?

Why do you keep not interfering?

He’s up to his old f licks again.

Pass the butter.. why,I’ve not finished marking it!

Where’s your rat?

He lost all his loves, one by one.

We should not write too hard.

I am caught in a map of my own faking.

Don’t keep looking into the horror.

He had terrors in every whom.

Overheard on the bus

Oh, Lord.It’s me.I’ve got 20 free minutes left.Can I pray now or are you engaged?

Oh,God, why am I here?Please say something.Just a small voice will do.

And when I went to Confession,I said, Father, I have committed adultery three times with three different men.Is that worse than with the same one? He said, are you married? So I said ,no, but they are.He said, it’s a defence against true intimacy.And I goes, what….mi battery’s gone flat.Oh,no it’s ok.He said I should study symbolic logic.I sez,is that a penance? He said, not always.If you enjoy it give some blood.I said, who to? He said the hospital.Oh, ok then.How about an Hail Mary.He said, No leave the women alone.You need another occupation.Love is never enough and in some cases it’s not love at all it’s just sheer greed.Are you still there?

Try a Catholic joke

photo0274-2

KYRIE ELEISON The only Greek words that most Catholics can recognize besides gyros and baklava.

source: http://www.jokes4us.com/religiousjokes/catholicterminologyjoke.html

2.Why do Catholics confess to their sins?

Because they don’t know anyone else’s

3.Why do Catholics pray to saints?

Should they pray to demons?

4.Why do Catholics have bad nerves?

The safe period is so brief.The desire is so great.

5.Why do Catholics swallow the wafer at Communion?

Because they’ve been fasting for ten hours.

6 Should Catholics use vibrators?

Yeah, for mixing baby formula.

7.Is it ok to pray when on a smartphone?

Yeah.Oh, Lord.It’s me, again!

8. Can I say the rosary on the bus?

If you can find one of each, certainly.

9 Can I pray whilst in the bath?

Devils can’t be choosers.

10 Is religion narcissistic?

Why don’t you listen to me for a change?

11 Is that you, Lord?

No,it’s the milkman!

They’re tabled

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There I was with my feet on their table when she said, they’re coming back now.I said, them? She said, oh, them, you know and all their relatives.Where will they all sit, I asked nervously as their chairs were full of boxes of paper for printing my new ebook on.Except you don’t print e books, do you? That’s the whole point.

She told me they always brought their folding chairs. from the garden And food?I queried anxiously.Don’t worry it’s a Fasting Day today.There you are, that is a good day to ask people round as if Catholic they can only drink tea and eat bread and if Jewish they can’t have anything at all so it’s economical.That seems very selfish, I replied.Well, they’re always eating and are obese already.I see, how disgusting I told her thoughtlessly, as she was about 4 stone overweight by her own reckoning.

Well, there it is.Take it or leave it.The religious and their traditions could fill a book! As if………………The Bible!They’re very sensitive to criticism so I usually use witticisms instead.Very nice, too.

There were ten full green bottles and they’re all empty.Their owner will be hopping mad.It’s like their mother’s milk.Except she had no bottles built in.And cigarettes, what are they? I guess Irigay says it’s the end of the rule of the phallic domain and that oral sex is a relapse into preverbal tonguing and inchoate irreplaceable longings.I don’t find their antics over there bemusing at all but they’re a source of laughter when the cat is asleep on my keyboard.

A life now absurd

Tribulation seems an old fashioned word

A religious note struck and then heard.

To think of our troubles

As tests and not muddles

Gives meaning to a life now absurd.

I think I’ve had enough tribulation

And the same goes for all deviations

Standard or mean,

How numbers do scheme.

I prefer now my feline fabulations.

So we can sin:How not to learn English

Sadder than a set trifle with Carnation milk would be in Bloomsbury

I made it big from the sins of my briefs.Amongst other undies,sundries and blunders.

My hat is made of old money and old rope.

Impale that gin so we can sin.

I,inane, wish for beauty ‘ere I die

I made a brake for my mind

My mind needs a mini-break

Make a long story taut by editing and deleting 97 per cent

They made a mountain out of a coal hill and we got Abergavan

Make ends meet: Sew them together

Make lens suit: press your eyes.

Dry your eyes and press them nearly

You can make heads or tails of tadpoles into soup

I make like a flea and leave a bite

We make no bones about it.It’s a corset.

Make or break this marriage: come to bed,my beloved.The sheets need changing as the Rorsach blots are boring.

He makes out like I planned it myself.

I make the Sadean protean and the signifier phallic , implying the edge of language is near and the Fall is clear.Oh,dear.

We make tracks in the sand.In the dessert,in fact.

Why makeup when arguing is free?

Don’t make the suave pay for that U

Make your move by collapsing all choices

The new kettle makes my blood boil but he prefers tea

For love of the face

Is pulchrifying oneself well a virtue,

Or a vice which we must be alert to?

For love of the face

Is usually safe,

Unless going out after curfew.

Don’t ring the knell for me yet

I am going out tonight with a vet.

But he doesn’t eat meat

Except for pigs’ feet.

That is trotters in jelly well set.

Others may eat oxtail soup.

And steal eggs from any hen coop.

They are probably poachers

Don’t let them approach us.

Roll your eyes and make play with your flute

Starting the next line

and I am starting the next line

even though my mind is blank

walking into a bog or a meadow

trusting myself to find

the rest of the sentence

and the next one

and so I am never blocked

or always blocked,if you like

it seems odd but it works

like solving a problem unprepared

in a lecture room in front of

100 students, my reason being

it’s boring to reproduce

and to do it right the first time

what do you think?

Tantrum ergo,rhodedendrons…..

We used to have Latin at Mass.

And later we learned it in class

Tantrum ergo

We must forego

As the Church built a new and bright past.

We used to sing, Credo in unum.

But some of us sang,Cried in your mum.

Our soles were all healed

Partitions were sealed.

And sometimes in nostalgia advertum

Till I called “immemorial” in a tutorial.

I used to dream lots while awake.

But ,unusually, I never spoke

Till I called “immemorial”

In a tutorial.

I realised I needed a break.

I then met an old Cambridge don.

Dr Leavis in his person.

He was a great critic;

Perhaps too acidic.

Then a wind blew and Leavis was gone.

We were studying topology algebraic

It’s new, though it does sound archaic.

Then harmonic series,

Which led to some queries.

Like,what is Ptomelemaic?

Isn’t that a beautiful word?

My spelling verges on the absurd.

Still,patterns attract me;

Men might distract me,

From what acts have never occured.

Funny errors

I was born in an ugly old town

With mill chimneys and houses with frowns.

Yet from time im-marmoreal [should be immemorial]

I loved the arboreal

And I have garbled my marbles unsound.

Marmalade’s an orangey jam.

Sevilles are the best for old men

For the flavour is bitter

Thus makes their tongues gnatter,

Which forces their mouths to uncram.

Underneath cares, we find peace

Deep in a sad and nervous state,

Relaxation is hard to create

I feel so tense I can’t sit down

My eyes glare out and then I frown.

I talk too fast ,I lack patience

I lose touch with my common sense.

To follow instructions from a book

Seems hard when I feel my brain’s been spooked.

So what to do to help ourself,

Not to mention soul and health?

I discovered that very deep inside

A pleasant silence often abides.

To be tranquil, we need to sit

And to consciousness peace admit.

Deep down inside we are at rest

And with love the soul is blessed.

All we have to do is wait

To get in touch with this sweet state.

Our own deep peace is always there

Too often hidden by common cares.

Pretend the chair is full of glue

We have some here called UHU.

I pretend that I can'[t get up,

An elephant sits gently on my lap.

Gaze in wonder at a tree.

Discover what we rarely see.

So let your thoughts float by like clouds

Your mind will slow down when allowed

Trees in sunlight

Pick out the words I have just invented

His writing is over full of invented commas.

He came to a full stop when his paper blew away.

His writing has no compasses and yet goes round in squirkles

She gave him full squarks for detrying.

She gave him a quotation to park.

She likes inverted comas but he didn’t.So they split at 45 degrees.

His colons were semi-detached.

What a narragraph!

He writes like a narrative.

Life is full of stories without punctuation, beginning or blend.

His fiction caused friction as it was clearly debased on the facts of wife.

Her poetry was full of forms but bereft of feeling.

What, a stunner, what a formata.

Just write and add the commas when you flirt

Your writing is so deft it seems unpeeled.

A capital letter? Das Kapital, ok?

Marx was keen on literacy and strangluage.

Can your feelings fill a form? If so, you cannot be published till you freeze them

Take it or weave it.You have my words.

Odious grammar deters the readers.

God is not very nice.

Pray ,Father.

I am praying.

I want to confess.

Not again.

That’s not very nice.

God is not very nice.

I’ve already deduced that.

Well, stop confessing so much.It’s a form of narcissism , you know

You mean it makes us think if ourselves too much?

Exactly.I believe it’s best to forget yourself and get immersed in something like learning Chinese or painting or your work, of course.

Or men or women?

Or those whose gender is fluid…that is something to think about

I’d prefer not to.Yet I know some folk are born with differently configured private parts.

I know.That must be tough.Althiugh better nowadays.

Well, that took my mind of my sins.

We were raised to believe God was always watching us but, in fact, it’s one part of us is watching the other parts.

Yes,I can see how wrong that could be if frequent.

So from now on,confess only annually.Amen

Be awry if you can

Flowers already in bloom by Mike Flemming.2016.Copyright

Nr 1:

How not to pronounce awry

I could tell you a fun little story
But awry is not pronounced aw-ri
That unsettles my mind
Which is somewhat unkind.
And what’s more Lowry doesn’t rhyme with story either so I am stuck here on the page for ever

.Or not

I once had a dear friend called Mary

Whose home was ostentatiously awry

She slept in a box

Surrounded by clocks

And winter frost on her head looked all hoary.

Awry and quirky I be

And the cat will not sit on my knee.

He’s gone out on with the boys

Forsaken his toys.

Next he’ll be stuck up a tree.

I can’t climb a ladder today

I guess I’ll have to pay

A man with a van

To do what he can.

Life is all awry and fey

2,Correct

My bedroom is all awry
My bed is a tart apple pie.
But it’s cosy and warm
And does me no harm
Though sometimes in a dream I will fly

Is your marriage awry like mine?
Is your partner somewhat less than divine.
Well give thanks to the Lord
For indeed it is hard
To live with a god all the time.

The bedroom was indescribably neat
Nothing was awry but a sheet
It lay on the floor
inside of the door
Just where I put my black feet.

My awry home is disliked by the doc
Yet he wears an unmatched pair o’ socks
Over full with tact
I never tell him that fact.
I just make certain our eyes never lock

He rolls his eyes wryly

My husband is idiosyncratic

He sleeps all day in the attic

When the moon peeps out shyly,

He rolls his eyes wryly

Saying, my dreams were merely synthetic.

So. is that not good, I replied

If you hate then they can be dyed.

How about blue,

Will ultramarine do?

I wanted pure silk,he then sighed.

I think it’s the sheets that you mean.

I am a wife, not a queen

I bought lots of cotton.

For silk might get spots on.

I’ve got spots on my bottom, he screamed.

Well ,here is some TCP cream.

Try that and we’ll feel how it seems.

Go up to bed

And chew on some lead.

While I stay down here with my schemes.

Stan and Mary meet the postman

Stan was brushing his sturdy tomcat Emile by the front window when he saw the postman coming up the path.This was a surprise as it was eight o’clock in the evening,though it was still quite light.He opened the door.
Goodness me,they are making you work hard” he murmured sympathetically to the weary looking postman.
Well,if I don’t do what they want there are 2.5 million unemployed people out there all seeking work” he said in a deep guttural voice.
I like your beard,cried Emile.And your moustache.
Do you like my new hat, asked the postman politely.
Yes,very much said the little cat.
Well,I have to wear it as I am a Conservative Jew.
I have never been quite sure what a Conservative Jew is,said Stan
And I have never been sure why the Church of England is international ,replied the tired man.
Neither have I, said Stan.It seems illogical.
He gave the postman some tea in a paper cup so he could drink it before he went any further.
Can I use your bathroom,he called to Stan who was admiring a few early daffodils.
Of course you can… it’s just at the top of the stairs.
When Arthur the postman came out he thanked Stan
Nowadays since all the public conveniences are no longer there it’s hard to find a lavatory and when you work a 12 hour day you do get to need a leak.
Yes,said Stan.I frequently have people using the loo…. or failing that you can go behind the hedge.
Just like me,thought Emile.I often go behind the hedge.I also take lady cats right to the back of the hedge for the purpose of lovemaking.
Have you ever made love under a hedge,Emile asked Arthur.
Or is it forbidden by your Mosaic Law?
Well,said Arthur, we can make love anywhere at all.But we have to be sure it is real love and not just us pretending to love someone in order to get something out of them.
That seems wise, said Stan.You seem a really wise man.
Yes,I did do a lot of studying till I lost my job as a University lecturer and had to work as a postman.But it does give me time to meditate.
And what is your advice to other humans, purred Emile.
Well, I’ll just offer you one thought ,Don’t exploit others for self gratification and if you feel suicidal please tell someone or phone the Samaritans.
And if you do go ahead I advise you to burn your diaries,letters and other private writing…look at poor Sylvia Plath,How could she have been so stupid. Everything she ever wrote,even on the paper napkin at dinner was collected and published by her almost ex-husband.We seem to know more about her than anyone who ever lived.
You have a good point there, said Stan.
I work for the Samaritans one day a week and Emile sits by me and purrs to keep me happy.
You seem a good man, said Arthur.Then all of a sudden he disappeared… leaving just a smile in the air like the Chesire Cat.
Oh,my sweet Lord,Stan murmured.Was that who I think?
Yes,said Emile.I saw the heavenly host behind him singing
Why did he call here?
We’ll just have to wait and see… but I shall cut up my diary tomorrow and delete my journal from the computer.I don’t want to cause scandal after I die.
No,said Emile, just cause scandal while you are alive by taking yet another mistress.
You little devil,Said Stan
And then Stan and Emile both chuckled as they went back into the house.And Stan resumed brushing Emile and mused over the visitation whilst forgetting he had not cooked the dinner for his hardworking wife Mary.Luckily Mary was always patient,

Jewish humour

Conversation with the Rabbi
Rabbi Bloom asked young Paul what his favourite bible story was.
“I guess the one about Noah and the ark, where they floated around on the water for 40 days and 40 nights” replied Paul.
“That was a good story,” said Rabbi Bloom, “and, with all that water, I bet they had a good time fishing, don’t you think?”
Paul thought for a moment, then replied, “I don’t think so…they only had two worms.”

Intellectuals think limericks non de trop

The pain was excruciatingly sharp

As she plucked on the strings of my heart.

What she was after

I never even asked her

But her bowing was, to my mind, not smart.

Intellectuals think limericks non de trop;

Incrementally better than faux.

But when times are inclement

Enjoy a bright moment.

For one day we each have to go.

My bowels are a nuisance to me

Yet without them how bereft we would be

In fact we’d be dead

And as St Paul said

The glass is now dark,but we’ll see.

Pain must be approached with some stealth

As aggravating it’s bad for our health

Accept it and bear it

And never,ever fear it.

Relaxation is the best form of wealth

My pupils’ names

This is to help remember some of the hard or unusual words like inchoate

Nell Oaks

Belley Aches-Hokes

Ahah Drawitt

Colonel Oaks

Dellue Sion

Hugh Sign

Hugh Drawitt

Okes Knell

Al Fredd [the cat]

Nice Quirk

Belle Knell.

Curry Favore

Inne Co-Hate

Harry Mee

Ade Drawit

Harry Boil

Harry Smirk

Inke O’ Itt

Adraw Owitt

Anne Hokes

Utta C.Rap

Rubb I.Shed

That’s enough rubbish ,the Editor [F .Offe]

Flying grass

He’s the type who hits himself on the head with a large wine bottle and then complains abour flying glass.

He’s the sort who swears at women when he’s happy and swears at them when he’s angry.And when he’s depressed he curses at himself which is much worse.

So I said to him,you need a change and he hit ME on the head with an empty bottle and complained t about the splinters getting in his heart.

So I said,you don’t need to break the bottle,just take the cork out.Then he said I was too bold and bright for a woman.

So I put him on the bed and took out his splinters with my tweezers.
I stitched him up completely…he’ll be fine in a few weeks time when the cuts are all healed.
Meanwhile he’s resting in the cat’s basket.And the cat is in bed with me.Well,I thought he was a cat at first…turns out to be my ex… he still had a door key.
He said,what’s going on?There’s a man in a casket.
I said,No, he’s in a basket…
So he said,how big is your cat.
I showed him a photo.
That’s no cat it’s a cheetah,he informed me.
Just like you,I said naughtily
So he took the fence and ran away too sea…I hope it floats.
He ought to join the navy but he wore bottle green.
Why are bottles green,I wonder
And I like blue glass though not in shards.
So now the cat sleeps in a cot with its kittens… and feeds them all on demand and me as well.
That’s a saving grace

Howl with discretion

She gave him a bowl of discretion and some milk of inhuman kindness
I have the art and he has the craft but do we have the rhyme?
Shalll we abandon our lips? Kissing is not to be scorned/
So it’s all about my face then?
I sleep above the board and my head is underneath the bed.
Absence makes the heart stray yonder.
Advent makes my whole heart ponder
Resolution falters after the facts.
His face was in the hole and his ball was up a tree
His body is still missing apart from his complexion
He keeps his face up his sleeve since he saw a naked woman
Why did Achilles not heal?
The unborn don’t fall down on me!
Factions speak louder than wholes
Fictions speak sounder than truths.
After viewing my own art I need a shrink
After viewing my own heart I need a drink.
If you show me your part I can think.
After suing my own heart I wink
To be rung by the ghoulish is the privilege of the dead honest

Two religions are better than one

Pray Father,give me your guessing.
My guessing!Don’t you mean my blessing.
Oh,probably.Possibly..who knows.
So have you any sins to tell me?
Yes,I broke a glass jug.
Whose was it?
It was mine,Father.
Surely it’s not a sin to break your own jug?
It is if you hit yourself on the head with it!
What made you do that?
I was angry with myself…I had been committing effrontery.
Do you mean adultery?Your main problem seems to be bad language.
No,Father I never say” Fuck”
You just did.
Well I had to do.I had no choice!
That’s what they all say…if only I heard some original sin I’d find life more interesting.
Well,it’s hard to think of anything original to do especially if it has to be a sin too.
You are just not using your creativity.
All right Father,Put your hands up.i’ve got a gun.
Where did you find that?
In my wife’s handbag.
Now we are getting somewhere.. that’s threatening a priest,interfering in your wife’s privacy and stealing a gun.Any other sins?
I could shoot you,I suppose.
No.no!That is going too far.
Shall I slap you?
No… just say something rude to me.
Your sermons are the most boring I have ever heard.
Well,that’s enough…I’ve never been so insulted in my life.
You have been very lucky then… you should hear what people say to me!
Well,you are both ugly and unintelligent.I don’t know how you had the nerve to marry.
I had no choice.She forced me.But I gave in quickly in case she changed her mind.
And you have seven children.
No, they are not all mine,And they are Jewish.
How can they be Jewish.
My wife is Jewish!
I thought she was just a lapsed Catholic.
No,she’s Jewish but not even an arranged marriage could be arranged for her so she used her imagination and decided an overweight ugly Catholic would be grateful for her love,
And are you grateful?
Yes, and so are all her lovers!
Who are they?
The curate is one of them and has two children .. they look just like him too.
And does she want them raised as Jews?
She just let’s them rise naturally and go with the flow.

Do they have to wear hats?
Only in the Synagogue!
Are you Jewish too.
Yes,it’s quite handy as we have Sabbath on Saturday and then we have Sunday on Sunday if you see what I mean.
I never met anyone who practised two religions before.;
Well,I figured it would double my chance of salvation!
Well. I must speak to the Rabbi.For your penance you must give £50 to Homeless at Xmas.
Am I absolved.
If you stay any longer you’ll be dissolved!
Thank you,Father.

And take that gun away.I don’t want it.

I can get you a good price for your cassock.
Why,thank you,my child

Love or unlove

Till the end of rhymes,I’ll be loving or unloving you

Until the very end of time I’ll be loving you.

Until the end of all my rhymes,I’ll be writing you.
Until the day I die,I’ll be unintentionally annoying you.
Older and older,I’ll never leave you,but I will,no doubt, grieve you and
deceive you,misperceive you and misconstrue my meter when I am writing for you and I can’t stop to get the right rhythm
Otherwise I’ll think of you,wink at you and make a hypnotic link to you
For now,my fingers will be all over you..looking for fleas in your clothes, and for for mice in your shoes.
I’ll be looking for tears in your eyes
and making you feel surprised.
Do you speak Estuary English?
Or Frenglish?
You spun me a tale…..
Love your particular detail,like you are male.
You have small hands and feet.
And you can smile.
Love may fail
Though it has no examinations.
Or recriminations
So I’ll stop loving you
And find something more wise to do without you

Computer of love

Your skin glows like red apples in the fall
You are as ripe as the strawberry left from last week’s crop
in the loving hope of being eaten or eating
My yearning heart rises to your yodeling voice and leaps like a cat at the whisper of your name.Shush,… don’t tell!
The evening descends on a great brown eagle’s wings.
What’s a lady?
What a night!
I am becalmed by your woolly hat
that I carry into the twilight
and hold next to my face
to remind me what a swelled head you have..
Even bigger than mine.
It will make a lovely tea cosy..
the hat,not your head.. baby
I am filled with hope that I may be privileged
to dry your tears on my tea towel or on my woow;;.
I have plenty of them peach,blue or cream
As the buttons fall from my winter coat,
it reminds me of your messy yet delightful house..
so I feel happy like a bird in a tree top.
In the hush, I listen for the last purr of the springing cat
that follows me about in my rich and wild fantasy life.
Perchance we dream
My heated heart leaps under my new blue silk bustiere with unmatching slip
and my denim jeans and wool blazer
Gosh, no blouse but I’ll buy one soon if you buy my poetry.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for the route to your secret bed
to be shown on the TV so that we may run as one, hands full of feelings
in search of the glorious pink madness of love
right into your bedroom… don’t fall over the rubbish..
the books and the coathangers, he said
Darling I can’t wait.
I beg you for a kiss..
that’s enough for any woman.. .
Even one glance from your eyes would satisfy me
as much as solving Fermat’s cat’s theorem or caressing your eyelids.
You are my man….I love you like I love wild apricots and anemones.
And moreover you are taller than me…
Congratulations.You are divine to me,
you smell so fresh always.
I always wanted a clean man!Is it too late?
I always tried to be punctual..but punctuality is not lovable,
just an indication of an obsessive link with time
not conducive to relaxing in the arms of Rudolf Valentino
or even Dr Zhivago.
I hope you will take me back where we came from into the Garden of Eden..
I want to give you a big Apple baked in pastry.
Well,how do we end.. writing has no end so I’ll just stop in the midd
or start to begin again

and again

and

Uncliched at last

about grace

about strays

he touts lace

spouts in my face

i hit an ace

I bowl over harm

dis-route my face

he loves roars

under board

my side’s bored

between the fines, he writes

he’s love’s adored moon

absence makes the heart grow flippers

adsense cakes the charts with glitter

absolute power disrupts absolutely

dissolute showers pollute the airs

a face is a whole

embrace my soul

he laced up his sleeves, buttoned his socks then made a brief case

hercules’ wheel hurt achilles’ heel

acid is best

passing the test

runcorn ‘s where grandad loved me

runcorn is not far from the sea

grandad’s dad was unknown to he and me and possibly his dad never knew he were a dad so my own great-grandad never knew about me.[but now he does]

distractions speak louder if bared

fractions are ok bu I’m decimatedly bored

after my own heart he ate his own

he loved eating out,especially bodies.

glaring dirty laundry eyed me frankly rudely and sweatily

the washing machine wants to be baptised/surprised

a wall bent out of shape by the drains

I’m all dents and I ache in my pain

all alphabets are off

wittgenstein’s lines

all bets are paradoxes to rustle

Mary buys an outfit

Just before the date of Stan’s funeral a new heatwave began.Mary realised her outfit which her sister had thoughtfully chosen was much too heavy.And she didn’t want to pass out.So she called into a small department store full of delightful garments.Unfortunately most were more suitable for a nightclub than a chapel.A black dress caught her eye.It had a somewhat low neckline which was decorated with a deep gold band.

Mary decided it was more suitable for Queen Cleopatra than a British woman.After a few minutes she found a lovely thin black jacket and a long drapy skirt.She rewarded herself with a large cup of coffee and observed the scene.

Many of the women were wearing the dresses Mary had thought were for dancing and nightclubs while the rest wore jeans with T shirts saying:No size Fashion or Free women now!Most were rather plump so their busts stuck out with the words going up and down some invisible contour lines across the small mountain range their bosoms resembled.No wonder when the counter in the cafe was stacked with almond croissants.Definitely an occassion of sin and for sin. P1000179 4

The next morning Mary showed her new outfit to Annie.

You can’t wear that,Annie screeched in a womanly way.That skirt is blue!

Well if it is ,it is dark blue,Mary cried.It looked black in the shop to me

You will have to go back and change it.And you must buy some makeup too..

What,for a funeral? Mary murmured guilelessly

Yes,said Annie who was wearing pink and purple eyeshadow from Pax Wacter combined with sun protective foundation by Minxette in deep cool beige.Her lashes were dyed purple and her brows had been groomed in a way which gave the impression she was constantly in a state of severe surprise or shock.

Her thick juicy lips were painted a lurid orange from Revlon of Timbuctoo and Shanghai which meant that any man who kissed her would never be able to conceal their passion from their wives or partners.How hard life can be at times.Or even all the time

.You must dress entirely in black for the funeral and it will make you look pale but don’t worry you can have some of my makeup

Will the colour suit me,asked Mary plaintively.

I think you can wear any colour now your hair has gone that shade of pale like Helen Mirren’s is.

You are a kind in a rude way,Mary responded ,but I take the hint.

After Annie left Mary phoned an old friend of hers and asked him what he thought of her clothes problem.

Black and blue will look very good,he told her.As long as it’s dignified and dark the colour is immaterial.Don’t think about ir

That’s nice,Mary thought,as she hated shopping and was unsure how much income she would have as a widow.

Being practical a dark blue skirt is something a woman can wear any time whereas black is not so good in the daytime nor in a nightdress either,she realised

If you visit any town centre in Britain you will see sights of women in strange and tight clothing that will both amuse and appal you though most of us are used to it now.I don’t know if men ever get used to it,

My goodness, Mary said to herself,what hard work it is losing a husband.I should have hired a boat and thrown him into Coniston Water.That would have been better than all this kerfuffle.Although the police might not like it.Still waters ruin sheep.though. 4666723_f520

Cubist collage by Kathryn Braithwaite.

A square plate

He said he needed three square meals a day .So far she ‘s not found him a square plate!

He said he liked to sin three times a day so they divorced and lived happily with laughter.

He used to go to Confession weekly until the priest gave him an extension to finish his list once and for all..Otherwise he’ll be getting a doctorate in doubt and rumour.

How do we know when the time is ripe?

The future’s not ours to flee.

Why don’t rolling stones get a gloss?

We used a milk bottle as a rolling pin but now it seems pastry cp,es in cardboard boxes in the supermarket

I like sausage and trash once a week.

Why did any cooks boil the wrath?What did they want.. a red mist?

Expatiate and more

I promise to love ,honor and expatiate all night

Until wrath us do part.

I expatiate and I’m ok

I preach all night and sleep all day

I expatiate and therefore I can.

If your man expatiates,have him put to sleep or how about a left hook,sorry, book

In the silver moonlight,expatiate ,my friend.

Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded dustbin?

What’s a wife to me without thee?

I’m getting married in a hawning

I’ll bring, along the bills he’s going to resign

Are you marrying for the right treasons,dear?

I ‘m an accident but I don’t mind

Daddy is deaf and mother can’t sign.

I said I’d never marry but he was as handsome as a cricketer, and his balls,well what can I say.? He’s a wonderful bowdleriser.If you can’t spell that put burglar instead.

I demand the right to spring,your lordship.

See if I wear!

I have to laugh or else we’d all cry.

Mary’s needles

On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-otherwise wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs he had bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Now what shall I wear.? Stan thought over-anxiously.
He had O.C.D now and then… depending on what was happening in his lifw
People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
Why has God kept me so youthful?
Surely not so I can seduce more women?
We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?
Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
Or is it, More waste,less feeds?
He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
He looked again narcissistically at his image.[I sure can spell.]
His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
His dark hair looked very full for his age.
His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner,
Jason Weizzmen-know-all
And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.

As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.
At least I don’t wear make up!
Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.
More taste less greed.
What does that mean?asked Stan.
If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
I want to go high,high.
I want to reach the sky…hi.
what will I do when my love is away
Will I be happy on my own?
Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
I’ll try not to sing out of tune!

My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.

At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready.
I wonder if I’ve got body dysmorphic syndrome,he conjectured emotionally
At the bus stop there stood Annie their neighbour.
Hi,Stan,where are you going.
I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
I can lend her some,she shrieked.
Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
Who is normal?
Let’s just assume we will recognise it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,They should let them sleep here.They are so cruel.
Anne shouted in a fury.
No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
Very true,she replied,
As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
A goat would be ok.

Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
Over the page to Fly.

Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick.
At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
You both look very merry!
Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warninigly.
Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
Why? she murmured,I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
Your wish is my command he muttered,
I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s on elsewhere.
He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back to the terminus.
But we want to go into town,every one howled.
There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
Hello! said Mary.
Did you get my needles,Stan?
I’m so sorry,Mary.I’ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
And where is my supper.
I’m afraid it’s still in the womb of time!
I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast.
But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were soon drifting into a light doze.Going down town is such hard work nowadays.

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Trees in sunlight

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Howl with discretion

Two religions are better than one

Computer of love

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