Category: humor

Where is my sinner?

Your dinner is on page 27.

Your dinner was eaten by a fox

Your leather handbag has tooth bites Who is it,?

We have no potatoes so I am leaving you.

I burned the pans so I have gone back to , Mother’s.

Mother’s boyfriend, to be precise.

The milkman needed me more than you do.So there!

I hid your dinner in the piano

The cats found it and also ate the strings.

I have ordered a pizza.Text me when it comes.Ta

Would you like cauliflower cheese without the cauliflower?

Or without the cheese?

Your lunch menu

Beef Worry with wild lice.

Roast ram and bees with mashed donators

Cheese Heart with flakey Maestro.

Rinsed Hottentot unhurried

Mustard Heart on raw plumage

Fraudberry Mess

Lemon Fright with queen

Apple pi and trigonometry guide

Lusted tart with whinberries from Belgrade

Coffee and tea by bequest.

Higher Education

I wanted to buy a light weight jacket.I would like it in Unnatural I told them boldly

We don’t do that colour

Well you do Natural!.Every thesis has an opposite one.So with colours

This is not a University, Mrs Hegel

Why tell me that?

You know toi much logic

I am terribly sorry.I shall try to forget it.Along with Grammar

Spelling Thinking Sanity Argument Maths Literary Criticism Theology Philosophy

Wittgenstein Einstein Hegel

Wow I feel sorry for you.You have so much to forget

That’s a novel way of looking at

Education

And it costs so much too

Is

The words

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

My novel

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.

Too literal?

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

Britain in mourning

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

We’re indecent

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

In the frying pan

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

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

Ersatz raps

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

Old Norse

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?

Like butter in the sun

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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

Please perceive me

Photo by Emily Hopper on Pexels.com

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

First class ass

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


The handkerchief pan

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

The cake tins

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

Now the melancholy’s gone

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?

Failed in sarcasm!





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

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 only ritual

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

The Words Mine

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


The Messiah is a cat

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com



  • Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.My, this bed is much  too hard,he thought.He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk.
    Emile was lying on his stomach purring.
    You fell out of bed,the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see any mice better.
    Well,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently.How can I get up from here?
    He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia’ Plath and banged on his desk softly.
    Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She got up and found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his desk.
    Emile wanted to sleep by the wall,you see.,he told her.
    Then he rolled over and I fell out.
    That is logically and scientifically unsensible,Mary told him. Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed?It is against the law of gravityAnyway,why don’t you get up?
    I like it  down here,the old man lied to her.
    OK Mary said,then she picked up the phone and rang 999.
    Hello,she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my husband out of bed.
    How terrible for you,the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away.
    Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match.
    How do you feel Stan,she enquired.
    I am thirsty,give me so brandy,he ordered her politely as he was very full of kindness.
    They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat.
    Blooming ridiculous,he told her in a manly fashion
    Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs to seee the poor cat.
    Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile and cleaned his paws.
    Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary,his wife.
    Why don’t you have a bigger bed,one asked Stan.
    Bigger than what,he responded academically.
    Well,if you were any fatter you’d not be able to get laid with your wife.
    True,he replied but I am 96 you know.I have erectile malefaction already  and am unwilling to have more mistresses and lovers or even concubines.
    I shall make you some tea the female paramedic told them forcefully
    Well,you don’t seem to be hurt,the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel.
    He’s not  a Catholic I hope.
    No, he’s Jewish,Stan shouted  nervously.
    That’s alright then.He can have concubines if he chooses.How do cats get to be Jewish anyhow/
    It’s their souls,Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats.
    But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly.They have no prayer shawls
    They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily.And they like to sing the psalms before bed.
    But how do you  know it’s Hebrew,he replied.Do you speak it?
    No, it’s just he hates bacon and peperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends,but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as relics.
    Well,that’s intriguing.Do you think Emile might be the Messiah?
    Oh,dear.We never thought of that.Will he have to go to Galilee and catch fish and walk on water?
    No, he can go to Rome and tell the Pope that the Church is not what God planned.
    I hope they don’t kill him,Mary cried…
    God will not be very happy.
    I didn’t know God had moods,Stan said.
    He has post-creative depressive disorder….no wonder when we look round he world.
    Still they did try,I’ll say that for him or her.
    And so say all of us
    For he’s a very good yeller,he’s a very good yeller
    A cat’s life is a fuss.Miaow

My husband has a rubber face













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

	


	



			
				


			

			
The words evoked what no-one could conceive
		
	
	

		

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








	


	



			
				


			

			
The personality of trees
		
	
	

		






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

	


	



			
				


			

			
Trembling with anxiety will circulate your blood
		
	
	

		

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