Category: humor

What do you think of Nothing?

I gave  full Marx to all  in the philosophy exam.

Then as I was Lenin on the window it opened

and I performed three spiralling French style Revolutions

in front of the entire campus before landing on the lawn.

A miracle…I suffered no injuries though my copy of Kierkegaard

was Trembling in my pocket.

If only Kafka had been there to watch..….

unless he was the black beetle I fell on?

I hope not as he has suffered so much already.

It made Sartre famous.. and look at his women.

Nothing in a skirt ever escaped HIM.

It’s strange to think Simone de Beauvoir never wore jeans

… or indeed trousers of any type.And tights?

Do clothes affect one’s self image?

No doubt Lacan would know all about mirrors

…..if he cared to speak more plainly than before…..

but Lewis Carroll knew more and mewed more

…he loved cats.He was my Mioaw and how!

But would the cat come back if a man called for it?

I’m sure they were tried by the Inquisition…

They were familiar with witches.

It’s a Looking Glass life here.

So it’s the full Montaigne diaries for you

and ten glasses of Spanish brandy for me.

Full Quarks or half sizes sold here cheap

.Apply within .No plastic or quantum cards accepted.

Please do not bask in the sunshine

as a revolution is imminent.

I saw Trotsky on the bus

I myself never read Hegel as such,

being very backward in German

but I did know about the thesis and antithesis.

What would the Euripidean Union have thought of that

or of the Gorgons being revealed again ?

It’s enough to turn us all to stone at once….

it’s the eyes,you see.

Well,I can’t keep Lenin on this Window any longer.

Bring down the curtain as fast as you can

or he will climb out and it will all begin once more

……remember I had the last waltz with you,babe.

I’ll never forget the Siege  when you laid   waste my heart.

I

Rhyme fun

Quantal rhymes with fundamental;

Mental rhymes with  the word central;

Central rhymes with Oriental;

Orientals  eat  green lentils.

 

This is not a course in logic.

Logic  rhymes with hypnagogic.

Magic oddly rhymes with tragic.

And it nearly rhymes with budget

 

 

Dodge it,  fudge it,fidget,lodge it,

Nudge it,bridge it.edge it,pledge it,

Wedge it,allege it,midget,grudge it.

Splodge it splurge it, whinge it,hedge it.

 

Stan meets another woman

CatsStan had just got back to his lovely  home after a ride on his  mountain bike. Emile had travelled in his special cat seat/basket just in front of Stan as he liked to see the road less traveled should it appear..and he liked purr to encourage Stan to ride further.WhenStan got home to his luxuriously detached yet bijou dwelling he went to the wonderful disappointing cloakroom to wash his paws before putting the kettle on for some tea.
Ah,how peaceful it is here,he thought…,how nice Mary is still at work.
Suddenly, and alarmingly, the door bell rang.There,on the flower bedecked porch,stood a large, beautiful curly haired woman holding Emile in her pretty freckled arms
I believe this is your cat,she said boldly.So he tells me.Why, he even knows the address.
Well,if he’s anyone’s ,he’s mine,Stan admitted uneasily.What has he done now?
Did you not notice he jumped out of his basket?she asked enquiringly.
Well,no,Stan answered furtively..I was getting a bit tired and keen to get home…I forgot my water,
Well,I hope you won’t let him do it again,he could end up absconding,
By the way,I’m called Yvette.
Are you Yvette Cooper,the MP,he enquired wildly.
No, she said,I’m Yvette Hooper,the swan lover.
Do come in for a cup of tea,he said caringly.
I don’t mind if I do,she said,then I can be sure your cat is alright.
Tell me,Stan said,Do you live with a swan?
No,she said,though I do have an old Swan saucepan.
A saucepan is not much company,Stan responded.
Well,at least it never shouts at me!Yvette said quickly.
Have you suffered verbal abuse? Stan said in a kind and supportive voice.
I have, yes.We had a mutual agreement that I could be handcuffed and verbally amused for 3 hours a week.you see we’d read this book,”Fifty shades of grey.”It’s all about human bondageBut my boyfriend thought it was verbal abuse I wanted..As I was upside down I couldn’t tell him of his error.After that things were never the same.
Why did you have the handcuffs?asked Stan calmly.
We were given them for Xmas,she whispered.Also a whip and some rubber gloves.Why the rubber gloves?For washing up of course!
But after being whipped would you feel like washing up?
I don’t know.We split up before we even tried the whip… to be honest,I didn’t want to use it.
Alright, my dear.I understand it all.
Here you are.. drink a nice cup of tea and try these biscuits I made myself they are almond biscuits from my Penguin Jewish cookery book.
Mmmm,delicious,she cried.Are you Jewish,Stan?
No,but why should they have all the best recipes?
A good point… maybe because they had almost the first alphabet so began to write them down before anyone else could.
Not to mention they invented monogamy,a great religion,Freud,Wittgenstein,Einstein,rhinestone
.Give them an accolade. I mean,Jesus Christ!What more do they have to do to be rewarded?
Ascend into heaven?
Make more cheesecakes?
I wonder,said Stan pondering slowly over this issue.

The back door opened and in ran Annie,Stan’s mistress.
She was dressed in soft teal with toning turquoise trainers and she wore a light beige foundation with bright coral lipstick making a subtle contrast to her peachy skin… all by Lam-com of China.

Oh,Anne,have some tea.This is Yvette,she very kindly rescued Emile after he jumped off my bike.
Don’t tell me he can ride a bike now , Anne screamed,showing off a good set of teeth and a long red tongue.
No,I was riding it.Stan told her sensibly.Calm down.
Hello Yvette,Anne said,where do you live?
I live on the top road by the wood.Yvette answered politely, her auburn hair standing up in a mass off curls as she spoke,showing off to good effect her light orange lipstick and burnt sienna eye shadow…in fact it was color from her art materials..
Have you been there long?Anne enquired politely and warmly.
No,only a few weeks..we don’t know anyone..
So you are married?
Yes,my  new husband is in the Police Service… he cleans policemen for special occasions.
I didn’t know anyone did that.Can’t they clean themselves?A self cleaning policeman…or how about putting coat of Teflon on them so they can be wiped with a wet cloth?
It’s up to him,said Yvette.I am a lecturer at Pond’s End Polytechnic.I teach philosophy..
In a poly?
Yes,I have a D.Phil from Oxgridge in the philosophy of science with particular reference to Dirac’s remarks on Wittgenstein.
Do they study such remarks in a poly?
All the students do Philosophy of Science…it’s compulsory.
Stan said,I wish they all did Peace Studies too…
I know,said Yvette kindly..If only we could bring peace but we are descended from the most aggressive primates…why many of them were sado-masochists.Well some were sadists and the rest were masochists I gather.The ones who weren’t died out as they never mated..
Well,I’m not a sadist,said Stan,or at least only to myself!
Do you beat yourself up,the ladies asked.
Just in my mind,he answered judiciously.

So do I thought Yvette.
Let’s have some more tea,called Anne from the hall,I’ll make it.

tea
Anne is my mistress,Stan boasted humbly……
There was little point trying to seduce Yvette now Anne had met her and vice versa.
Yvette was intrigued.That is rare ,for such an old man to have a mistress.
Is a wife not sufficient for you?
A wife is necessary but not sufficient,Stan teased her.
Well,my husband has no mistress, she said unknowingly,
but I have several boyfriends.
How do you get the time?
I have a rota,she chuckled happily.
You seem an intriguing lady.May I have your email address,mobile number and your landline?
Your height and weight too..clothes size and shoes too.What colour is  your nightgown?I beg your pardon.I have got rude with age!
Be quiet ,you little sweetheart.It’s
yvette999@hotmail.com
or diracisme@qmail.com
My phone number is Oh,oh,6666666666666.7777777777777777………………..
That’s irrational,he informed her knowingly.
Have you got an i Pad,she then asked boldly.
No,I’ve not even got a Kindle..do you recommend them.Maybe you could come to ComputersRus with me on Saturday.
No, she said,I’m Jewish.
Are Jews not permitted to visit Computer shops.Some religious edict,is it? he said inquisitively.
It’s the Sabbath,you dimwit,she responded.We don’t shop on the Sabbath but don’t worry I’ll come on Monday with you..you are a charming man.I need as many as I can get.
Why are you deficient in some way?Stan whispered.
No,I’m very proficient and mildly conceited,she admitted modestly.
And I like a good kisser.Are you a good kisser?Can you make out?That’s American for kissing.
Well,maybe you could give me a test,he said manfully,
and if need be you can give me some lessons followed by a total Examination to see if I satisfy you.
Just then Anne came in with fresh tea..
Emile mewed loudly.
What is it.Emile ? Stan asked.
I am jealous because we cats can’t kiss.
Well kissing is neither necessary nor sufficient in the art of love.Rolling about together in some soil is also very nice..
I hope you don’t expect your wife to roll about in soil,said Yvette
questioningly..
Well,I can ask her,Stan said,but her main interest is topology and knitting.She is often very cold in bed.
Can’t you warm her into life;Or buy an electric blanket?
No,she’s hopeless because of a type of Asperger’s syndrome but I love her anyway.
Have you tried a new technique like whipping each other or tying yourself to the bedposts.You can buy handcuffs now in Boots,I hear.
Why some doctors prescribe them on the NHS nowadays
I thought Love was enough, Stan answered
It seems in the UK people are into whips and handcuffs…
Well,count me out,said Stan,I’m more into a careful yet tender study of the skin from the toes right up to to head,followed by gazing into her eyes for ten minutes.
Why ten minutes?asked Yvette.
I can’t wait any longer
Well,you’ll have to practise..she said coyly.
I can practise with him,said Anne virtuously.
Yes,the more the better…he’s getting older so he can’t wait.
He needs satisfaction and love as soon as possible.
The door bell rang,It was handsome Dave the paramedic.
Hi,he said,I was worried as you’ve not called 999 today.I brought a leash and some whips.
I’m Yvette,the woman said.
I’m bisexual,he told her.
That’s a strange name.
Never mind that,give me your email address and phone number
It’s ywoman@love4all.com,she said or 09964321.3333333333333333333…..
If you’d like a non rational phone number email me at
hotcats@hell.com

photo1049 4

Read more freely in the Daily Slur tomorrow….on sale everywhere and making life hell as fast as they can

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

 

 

 

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

458d3d246c115344b41e2f2773f082b7

 

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

Spring 2016

 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
Caught red handed 2
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.
DSCF0002
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

Photo0426

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

  • 5933175_e3b13db92e_a 2

    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

    photo1438 2

  • 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
  • dandelion


  • 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


6819924_f1126074c2_m-brighter

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