Every Time I see a four letter word I add another letter
Oh,fluck the Men are here where is my frock?
Oh fluck, why not shriek English
What creap for dinnrr
He writes too much cramp for me
You tweat, you broke my heart
You twist my swords
What shirt you speak at home
You are shifty
Blondy hell,Africa is me
I am damed if I will swear
Where did the count go ?
What count?
The beast one.
You are e-vile
You are e-book
Do not read my novels I demand .
I’d like to write my own on Southport Sands.
I have a plot that came in a bad dream
So I have got some good from all my screams.
I cannot eat the bacon up today
I feel so sick the parrots are dismayed
They envy me though I am in decay
I am hetersexual yet I’m gay.
So I am transcendent, what do you say?
Keep safe,,….. Kill yourself now
Lost your head? You are better off without it.
Don’t believe me ?
He is that loseth his life shall save it. Jesus
Let go and relax.Die of starvation.Free to all in the Third World Claim it now
On his top it says
Made in Burton from real polyester.
He told the Belgians to go back to the Congo.
It read ‘I am a manvestlike
Is I English ?
Many are boiled but few are frozen
I don’t like pork so I married a lapsed Jew in a Hindu Temple His mother sent us to a duvet filled with cat hair.
Is it an insult ? How shall I detract ?
I are a lapsed Catholic.
But it won’t last forever
What is life to me without Tea
What s left when you eat buns
With no wife
Who’d brew tea
What is left when she won’t agree?
What is satire when I’m stupid
I pick the pods off the lupins
What is strife
Strive errant Cupid
What is weft when warp is dud
What’s an oak when we’re flaccid
Eating apples full of acid
Who is broken
When the wheel has spoken
I may as well feel kind of placid
What is poetry to a pheasant
Being shot is pleasant
What is emotion
In our maddened Nation
Now we realise we are indecent
I wondered how the two of me would be
If the sperm had got inside a different egg
And my egg was penetrated by a bee
Then by sperm whose entry was by bag
I often hum and buzz as I walk out
All unknowing of the neighbours thoughts
Full of concentration and of guilt
Wondering what my other half has bought
One half of me would know no way to change
It’s not like making sponges filled with jam
Unless the universe were rearranged
Then we’d all be in the frying pan
I cannot let this thinking carry on
I can be myself and all is one
In between two numbers there are so many more
Uncountable and infinite this is their allure
And then there is the circle, unmatchable, unsquare.
There is stern white beauty, the air is very pure
In between two numbers, a dancing pair can kiss
The band has paused to take a breath, the space is not amiss
The music has its rhythmic beat, how different from mere noise
Listen to the humming, listen to its voice
In between two numbers,puzzled and unsure
I try to guess the one you sent, your manners are obscure
Am I thinking in straight lines, when curves would tell me more
I see the comic sanctions that down on me will pour
In between two raindrops, in between two tears
In between our words and songs, love displaces fear
Source: K
Oh,I see the wolf listening..he’s so gentle or is he decentral?
Oh,Ah,kerbumplof.
Shrieks,calling for mate
Bang my soul up
In your bedroom
Ker pluf
Thor.War
Storms of lightning
Hail you
AAAAAAhhhhhhhhh
Me,oh,me oh,me stuck here in my groove
Give me electric shocks;the silent treatment.Sulk for me, please,Argentina.
Screech,scream,I felt you watching.
Touch me with a feather
Dust me!
Glug!
I see the wasps round your coat
They hug you and nip your neck
Bong!
Don’t come near me again
Wolves are not
Welcome!
I sigh for mein mutter
She’s a nutter,
utter
Sob
Scream
nightmare
Thud!
You hate me!
Never call again when you’re already here
You are not welcome.
I close my door
on your foot boot
Oh,yes.
Thunder and lightening
Go home now
This is a poem as likely
ill conceived
Eagle flies while I am
Falling down a mountain…
Scree burning.
I never want to see you again,babe.My duck.
Please be a love and leave me.Cheers
That’s ok.I understand you.
Asp,gasp
Per bot fly!
No thud
No dach
sounds whimper.
It’s time for my tea and biscuit
I cooked it twice
but you were
ab ab a aaab aa absent aahaa
sent!
No.No.no
I can’t believe you!
Cut this string and let it all hang out again
Oh,bogger.Go to bed
Now
How
Mein eschreitschzung
.Flightschzung.
Nachtschzung
blung.blung
blot me out
I’m an ink stain.
I like your fingers, so clean and curving
I’ll mark you and give you homework
Och,aye
It’s well come
Crooning mouse traps
See Rockefeller
drop out and
Bring a bag of sylvia plath’s
scrap paper.
did she know?
Did she know?
Did she sweat
Bang?
Thud.My sky fell in onto the millpond
Don’t smoke near me
I’ll get burned
For I hate you
Or just want your hat and an E for
flatness
Droom,droom
Dee
Bag
bug
Ted went to bed
where he spent his honeymoon
with another woman
Not with the second one
Mathilda
It’s finished us all off
Brang.Blong
EschreitchzungFleightschztungHerr Meightschrung
I must change my name, it is too long
Even folk from Yorkshire get it wrong
As for those techniciians far away
My long name is very hard to say
I could take the action via law
Or marry someone with a name like Shaw
Smith is overused when we don’t ride
Lord would be ok, can we abide?
I’m tired of being asked to spell it out
It hurts the listener who knows not its roots
Banks and braes are well known to the Scots
Thwaite is an old Norse word . what the heck
We must be invaders who burst in
Killing Celts and Saxons, is that sin?
My heart is soft like butter left in sun.
Much more heat and it will melt and run
Oh, why do we have feelings,why engage
When friendship turns into such bitter rage?
I do not wish to live remote and stern
As if I am so perfect I can’t learn
Pain too deep can mortify the flesh
Turn us into robots fit for trash
All I need is an enormous fridge
Which will make me harder than sweet fudge
I’ll go inside and pray for peace each day
If I freeze to death,I shall not say.
Oh, be of merry heart,my friends and foes
When love comes in, a little hate will go
He said he never wanted to be me again.
He asked me never to bury him again
None so blind as those who’re on TV.
I see what you scheme
I’ll catch the late train and be stoned tomorrow
Please deceive me,I won’t know
The last chance will be a horror
Until wrath us do part.
Until the penalty’s stark
It’s better to have loved the dust than never to have loved the balls
Men are in jars, women are in beakers
I am very clever,give me that
I have got a first class aegrotat
Do you feel that you would like one too ?
Just get chicken pox or maybe flu
I went to York in winter,this is true
Hebden Bridge had icebergs in the loo
Then we were near Grimsby in thick fog
The Humber Ferry crossed like coppers plod
In Hull they gave degrees in geography
Now they teach the gross democracy
That may be where I caught Golders Green
My face is apple and my eyes are teal
I could have done degrees in Law or Greek
I love to hear the way the foreign speak
Give me Aramaic for my tea
Give me ancient Hebrew,I am he.
I learned Dutch but I was not first class
In fact I failed completely,I’m an ass
We walk along the Pennine way some years
If farmers let the bulls out,we don’t care
I like stiles and jumping over walls
But then I’m not a man with stuff to haul
I like mountains,I like lakes and boats
I like being tickled as we float
I like sheep that follow me all day
Trying to find the perfect spot to pray
Up near Dent the sheep beg very well
They learn to knit while sitting on a Fell
In the winter Dent is somewhat cold
It feels more frosty to the very old
I’ll never go to Dent or Alston now
Unless the bull is gone and there’s a cow
I’ll never climb up Coniston Old Man
Nor meet Mary,Annie, Dave or Stan
They are in another kinder place
Where one the women made the famous lace
On the River Trent come down the Peak
Do not wear your shoes unless you’ve feet
 | |||
In the evening. simmering handkerchiefs
Perfumed the air with odours I can’t tell
Mother scrubbed them, hung them on the line
Then I had to iron them, folded well
Now we have our tissues, we don’t need
Hankies that need scrubbing many times
The oceans deep are poisoned with our waste
Is the use of tissues a new crime?
While we did our homework after tea
My brother liked his Wagner at full blast
Imagine learning Latin with that din
Now the time for anger has long passed
Bad memories change by newly given grace
Evoking hints of mother and her face
I see the tins I used for Christmas Cakes
The Russian Cheese Cake and the apple tart
Nowadays do younger women bake?
I remember mother making Buns
Hot,uncross, she made cakes with her heart
Her apple suet pudding beat her plum
The kitchen was a room with its own fire
There we ate and cooked and fought,alarmed
Children pinch and nip and even bite
I banged my head upon the table sharp
The corners seemed to hate me,even spurn
I wished I were a dog so I could bark
I fell down the stairs, it was a thrill
It hurt less than the beatings made me smart
Children were deprived of any will
Shall these cake tins from my home depart?
Shall I make a small cake from a chart?
I hold the tin I used for Christmas Cake
Watching TV where new experts bake
I feel a kind of numbness on this January day
The darkness came down sudden and I feel it’s here to stay
Shall I make myself some tea and pretend that you are here?
I feel naked like the wood underneath that swish veneer
I’m feeling kinda nothin’ now the melancholy’s gone
Should I be doing summat that’ll give me, like, some fun?
The silence is not threatening, but neither is it good
Did you ever wish yourself , you weren’t made of flesh and blood?
I’m feeling so damned stupid for falling on my back
My shoulder was in agony and there’s whiplash in my neck
The doctor, he injected me, but he said it’s down to luck
He may have missed the mark, he says and I just say,oh heck
Apparently the elderly are not in much demand
I heard a sorta whisper as my head went in the sand
We must keep this hidden or we’ll frighten off the young
They don’t seem to notice but the cat does lick my hand
I didn’t know how old I was till the clock flew off the wall
Isn’t it uncanny what you see before the Fall?
Hello Mary. what are you doing today? There stood a vision dressed in a teal jumpsuit
it was Annie, Stan’s mistress,[ when he was alive.] Quite what her status as a former mistress can be is unknown,but she remained on friendly terms with Mary ;she had helped Mary a good deal while she was grieving,mainly by being present yet undemanding not to mention making frequent cups of tea and putting out the washing
I’m going to stay with the Pope in Rome ,Mary cried out from her pink armchair
Are you being sarcastic, ironic, or have you gone mad? Annie replied politely
Well I was trying to be sarcastic but I am not very good at it yet I hope to improve as time goes by because research shows being sarcastic improves your creativity
But can you be sure which part of your life will become more creative, Annie ask her thoughtfully with a little grin
For example you might become more creative in the way you trying to attract men
Well that would not be difficult, said Mary ,as I do nothing to try to attract them at the moment and on the other hand it could be rather time-consuming
Would it improve my ability to write in a creative manner or to be more creative in what I cook?
I have no idea Annie told her. the only problem is is that if you practice on me it might affect our friendship
You are far too childish, Mary told her. Is that sarcastic?
Tell me, the ex mistress of your ancient husband!
What do you mean ancient, he was only 23!
23 what? said Annie
Are we being sarcastic?
Well if we can’t know the answer then we are not being sarcastic because I am sure we would realise if we were
I am glad you can express yourself in such a brief manner
What have briefs got to do with it?
I just found a bag full of dry ones and I have been folding them and putting them into the drawer
Do you mean knickers?
Yes, I do, but I couldn’t remember the name
You’re pulling my leg
No I’m not. I’m nowhere near your leg
Don’t tell me that you are not familiar with the expression meaning “you are joking”
Why do you assume I am not familiar with anything?
I am giving you the benefit of the doubt
Doubt is a very dangerous State of Mind
Shall I wear the pink knickers or the blue ones I spend all morning trying to decide so it is best not to doubt anything but to believe that what you do must be correct and everybody else is wrong
That’s alright as long as you’re not stealing people’s husbands
If they can be stolen so easily what does that tell us about the state of the marriage?
Nothing nothing at all, men are so easily beguiled that is in the best of marriages they’re not be enough to keep them faithful for ever
Don’t be so horrible
I was trying to be sarcastic
Should it not come naturally like loving?
What kind of loving do you mean?
If you mean physical loving it doesn’t always come naturally to human beings’
.many couples go for help in having a baby and the doctor discovers they didn’t realise what sex was
They thought by sleeping in the same bed, the wife will get pregnant
It seems very hard to believe but compared to thinking about Donald Trump
and his lies, it is nothing
Shall I put the kettle on, said Mary
That is sarcastic Annie said because you know that I always put it on when I am here
it is more like dropping hints Mary cried
All these things are very hard for scientists. You don’t solve mathematical problems by dropping a hint nor does anyone drop hints to you whereas in interpersonal relationships it is very important to be able to drop hints and to be able to take hints when they’re dropped in front of you
Mathematics and physics much easier than everyday life because they contain no sarcasm no irony and no hints whatsoever
I wonder if Wittgenstein would agree with you.
As he is dead we cannot know but I am almost sure he would agree
I was just being sarcastic,that’s all!
It seems like that Mary and Annie are going to have to spend much longer practicing sarcasm before they were able to go outside and be sarcastic to neighbours or Friends
well Emile’s view is that he will not accept sarcasm from anybody
He will bite the hand that feeds him if necessary because he knows that Mary will forgive him when he apologizes
On the other hand it would be easier if he didn’t bite anyone And God might be angry with Emile for being a trying animal to live with
God, does he enjoy sarcasm?
Noone has asked before!
I think he is beyond language altogether
And so say all of us
I can only comment in a verse
A villanelle for virtue,my defence
I don’t know what you mean for you are terse
Love or hate,I don’t know what is worse
Is this life a very spiteful test?
I can only comment in a verse
In my bag I have a purple purse
Money is so dirty it’s a pest
I don’t know what you mean when you are terse
When we marry, we won’t be the first
We need a godly priest for I confess
I can only comment in a verse
Do not pay my bill which I detest
At our party let us all be blessed
I don’t know what you want when you are terse
I am in a struggle, can you guess?
I am well endowed with happiness
A villanelle for virtue is the best
I don’t know what you mean you are so terse
The ritual is to put the garbage out
My day begins the night before it’s due
When I recall the day, I have to count
Instead of Mass, we put the garbage out
No Confession so no sin,no horrid doubt
No neighbours and no prayer,no ancient pew
The only ritual left, toss garbage out
My mind begins to think about the clue
Every poem begins with a first line
After that we choose the space and time
The words float in my head till they combine
Must a poem begin with its first line?
Some are bold and some are more refined
Some are free and some have lissom rhymes
A poem begins by finding a first line
After that we search the Deep Words Mine
My husband has a rubber face,
He’s from a subset of the human race.
Some men have faces fixed and set;
My husband’s face is not like that.
He imitates our politicians,
Just like Rory Bremner can.
Though he has no wig or hair piece,
He can look like anyone.
Some nights I waken for I am laughing
While I am quite sound asleep.
I am dreaming of his mobile features,
Contorted to a different shape.
He is skilled at telling jokes.
And he loves a good cartoon.
If I am feeling flu style blueness
I he can get me up again.
He has a rather noble visage.
He gets attention he abbhors.
In the bar on King’s Cross Station—
I was asked was he a Lord!
He’s a Lord of Fun and Humour.
He’s a Lord at Listening Well.
He’s unique, but so are you,
And all creatures that on earth do dwell
With the Mass in Latin,I believed.
The words evoked what no-one could conceive
The women in their hats looked like proud queens
What was, what is, and what once might have been
The men came late,hung over, full of dreams
They took no Wafer, drunk from living streams
I did not mind confessing made up sins.
Nor did I mind beans found in small tins.
Religion gives fresh themes to those obsessed
Guilt and sin,but scruples are the best
I went to church and told God I was through
He said, hang on,I’ll send my Light to you.
Thus it was that I was saved from death
I had worshipped Satan in duress.
After that I took a job for health
I am rich in love, though not in wealth
To me there is a White House of the Soul
We shall meet again there when we’re whole
A place of beauty, space and coloured light
God won’t boast, and neither will the mice
Trees lean over, watchful as we meet
The tall ones do not shiver in the breeze
Trees can hear the torment in our speech
We have flowering cherry in our street
But mine died like my lover with great ease
Trees lean over listening as we meet
The tree won’t bend too close, it will not reach
As panic,worry, horror,nightmares squeeze
Trees discern the music in our squeaks
Alas, no tree has mastered human speech
But when they can, they coax the honey bees
Trees lean over sweetly as we meet
The leaves will rustle,wrestle and may tease
Smile for selfies,what’s the word, it’s cheese
Trees lean over, wonder, and conceive
Yet trees hate noone, nor do they believe
They say we ought to exercise
Walk up and down the stairs
Never use a Lift instead
Despite the tear and wear
I think I’ve found the answer
It’s as simple as can be
Just shake your limbs and head about
While you watch TV
But if you’re very nervous
That will do you good
Trembling with anxiety
Will circulate your blood
Or if you see men following you
Then run until they stop
They might be a fantasy
So do not call a cop
Agitation’s terrible
But even that’s ok
You won’t be able to sit down
Ot even kneel to pray
So have a nervous breakdown
You will live to ninety nine
You may not enjoy it much
But it fits my little rhyme
I suppose the answer is now plain
We have to choose our way
Loose and happy on the sands
Or shivering & trembling all day
When you die the Coffin men
Will thank you if you’r slim
It might be a real nervous breakdown
Is better than many a gym
Waiter, there’s a tear in my soup
How can you tell?
It’s quite clear
I can’t see anything
That’s the whole point
Waiter,my egg is too hard
If it’s boiled I can’t reverse that
What, all this modern science and we can’t soften a hard boiled egg
I could mix some butter into the yolk
I’ve eaten that
You are trying to eat the egg cup!
Is that what it is?
Did you not have any at home?
No, we never ate eggs
Now we know why!
My wife has had a baby
What’s its name?
Aubergine
Why?
It’s purple with crying
Well, it will stop eventually
I hope so.My wife is worn out
So why are you here?
She says after this pain she never wants to make love again
How do you feel about that?
Is it my fault God made the birth canal so narrow?
Well after a few more babies it will get wider
A few more!Can’t the doctor help?
Well, it’s against medical ethics really but he could use a shoe widener
His shoes are too narrow,
I suppose so.
I think it is too big
Well,she will forget when the baby sleeps
Forget what?
What fertilised the egg
And what does that?
Don’t you know?
A spider?
It’s sex
I can’t tell the sex of s spider
No, when you have sex.
But we’ve had it 365 times and only had one baby
Better luck next time
The sun was shining in the night
I woke at half past three
The moon was cut in half again
Send the rest a flea
The night was dark, the light was off
Please do not blame me
The cat was hungry so I made
Some chips and Earl Grey tea
My husband was asleep again
So I climbed the Xmas tree
I found no coins or chocolates
Just a mouldy pack of Brie
I hunted high,I hunted low
But found no new decree
I spun till I got vertigo
And fell into the sea
Here I float on a small boat
Will God still love my me?
I’ve got liquid Quink on all my clothes
I thought that everyone would like to know
I’ve got moth holes in my sweaters like small eyes
But my winter coat is still almost alright
I’ve had this coat for fifteen years,it’s brown
It drapes quite well, the maker is renowned
I must put it on to take a walk outside
To see which plants have died and which survived
My husband would be very shocked indeed
My tights have gaping holes upon my knees
The ink has penetrated to my vest
God knows where that Quink will wander next
If your clothes are damaged, do not cry
At least 5,000 moths have learned to fly
Please choose a gentle piece of music for your ringtone
[But nothing from Wagner any way]
We all have insomnia.Just work through it
We regret live sex is not allowed but you can dream
Mobile groans will be ignored
Please do not shock us by rising from the bed
Please sit down on your chair and not the consultant’s knee.
Kindly do not tell the doctor he is stupid.He knows already.
The doctor is only a pest when exhausted
Kindly pretend to listen to the Consultant on his round
Kindly do not eat cream buns or meringues in front of the Consultant.He is on a diet.
Kindly avoid catching any bugs belonging to or emanating from this hospital and vice versa
Please do not swallow your Kindle Fire before lights out.Buy a bigger one next time
Keep yourself clean.Take a bed by the open window during a storm.
Kindly avoid dying when we are busy.You can if you think you can
Kindly do not write verse on your sheets unless in water soluble ink
Kindly recover before Friday as we are shutting for the weekend
Kindly write poetry on paper and not on your arms and legs.
Kindly do not copy these rules down.They are our secret.
Kindly keep all you hear secret especially from visitors
Please do not breathe out bad breath
We will take you for a scan in Rymans if you pay.
Bribes are forbidden, but we take them anyway
We love all religions,but don’t argue in here.Go outside and fight if you must.
Don’t convert us while ill
Be holier than thou
Confession is available of Saturdays 5-8 pm if you can walk and talk
Where is God?
Don’t send me an apron for Xmas
When all that I want is a glove
A glove for the oven
Its hands must be frozen
Let’s drown the old oven in love.
Don’t send me a card on my birthday
I cannot remember your name
Just bake me a cake
I prefer it to steak
Don’t limp unless you are lame
Don’t change the sheets every week,dear
For washing them makes them wear thin
Just give me a brush
I’ll beat off the fluff
Then we can both have some fun
Don’t give me bacon for breakfast
God won’t let Jews eat it yet
His aversion to swine
Is what makes him divine
The fig tree is dead I regret
How my heart speaks 