Category: humor

Fortunately, he cannot bite

I dream  at nights of my old friends
My husband and his loving hands
I dream of all the cats we  had
Alfred who slept on  the bed
He laid his head upon my foot
As I wrote  a poem of love
Jimmy who was small and black
She  bit my hand if I got up
I did not wish to wet the bed
She did  not understand  a word I said
The last night  here she gazed at me
I think she knew  she would  not be
Lucky was the nervous  one
Black and white , apartheid none
He liked my husband’s shoulder dear
He draped  himself  and lost all fear
Now the cats have all gone off
I am frightened by a cough
My husband comes to me at night
Fortunately he cannot bite
He  touches me with tenderness
Smiles and wished me,God Bless.
When I waken I feel lost
So I have to wear a watch
I seem to have no solid self
I feel nervous of an elf
I don’t mind an angel sweet
He could rub my aching feet
I will have no other man
They  are frightened of women
They don’t like to lose at Chess
They don’t like  to wash my dress
They will brush my winter coat
Never ask me what I wrote
I do not wish to anger men
They might shout  and bawl again
I think maybe I will turn gay
Ask a lady, what to say?
They may not understand my needs
Killing flowers to  help the weeds
Talking all the weary night
On the whole they’re parasites
Also they may menstruate
I can’t  give them seeds  to  take
So they will leave and  get a man
This is where it all began
Eve and Adam,God and man
Cain and Abel, apple flan
Noah and his Ark so fine
I wish I had one in the rain
I wonder when the world will end?
I am old so be my friend

Awesome  now means  medium at best

Rubbish is  just something we don’t need
Or something  not worth mending   we believe
Where nonsense may be foolish talk or jest
Or English humour at its lethal best

There is no Judge, it’s people who decide
Whether it is nonsense to deride
The  message of the media  online
Which like the Consecration, is divine

Awesome  now means  medium at best
That is, you have barely passed the test
What a lot of stupid people say
Appears on someone’s T shirt the same day

Nonsense can give pleasure,make us loose
Sometimes it can make us feel confused.

What is nonsense in the modern age?

To write nonsense one   must think it first
Then translate thought into a  little verse
But what is nonsense in the modern age?
The more I hear, the more I feel enraged.

Yet Lewis Carrol made a lot of notes
Jabberwocky is a  poem he wrote
Where  time was always brillig  in his day
And mimsy was the passion for the stray

And Alice went behind a looking glass
She got trapped and missed the IT class
When she saw the minus and the plus
She said, Oh, my,I thought it  merely glass

Mirrors are a vital  need  we  have
Especially when we lead a  dog to bath
Lacan and Winnicott each  state
The mother’s face will mirror  and emote

So if  your mood swings  are too much
It never helps to go inside a church
Try  a  little dose of opprobrium
The shock is less  if you have  got a chum

I wonder why  the  head is so attacked
Electric shocks, brain surgery from quacks
When massage with essential oil of rose
Curies hysteria and warms the running nose?

I  hate the doctors and their ignorance
I really  ought to  learn to love a  dance
For it’s the entire body that needs aid
It is for this that many people prayed

What is nonsense but a better world
Where babies laugh and little girls have curls?

 

 

 

 

What nonsense

Writing nonsense is extremely hard
Writing rubbish verses can annoy
Nonsense has some style, some meaning too
Gyre and gimble till the spies  find you

Read aloud it makes me laugh and cry
Borogroves are woods where mancipes die
Wabe is like  the sea, its rappling  gorm
Please put  your wrong name upon  a form

Why not  stroke A Rest for Oxford now
Lie down in a stunt without a cow
The rivers   bring  down water from  the  hills
Why God put the springs there, we can’t tell

Read a little Alice for your heart
Through the mirror is the wiser part

I don’t like  the odour of your shoes

I am good and you are evil now
I decide and you must  just agree
I am  your superior and how!

I must be the bull and you are cows
You are blind but I can truly see
I am good and you are evil now

By  good fortune, I am well endowed
I make better cakes and better tea
I am  your superior and how!

I don’t like  the odour of your  shoes
All  I meet will  certainly agree
I  shine  bright and you are duller now

I know  that  God himself was born  anew
I will  learn his language  for a fee
I feel so superior in the  pew

I am the python  in the apple tree
The adder shedding skin, the perjury
I am good  but boring too I know
Where are the shades,  the LSD,the glow?

Cured in hell

My doctor diagnosed me so well
The pharmacist sent me to Hell
The heat cured my joints
Despite devilish taunts
So we’re off for a weekend in Rhyl

The doctor  has grown a new beard
He looks more mature than we feared
He asks pointed questions
And then  makes  suggestions
I feel that my pain is  less  here

Why do we need doctors today
Is it insufficient to pray?
I don’t fancy radiation
How about recreation
Just do it  and noone will pay

Like children

We once rolled  like children down a slope
We stopped the car to climb the grassy bank
As if we were reliving some lost hope

Ecstasy  is way  beyond my scope
My mind is always veering to the  blanks
We once rolled   our  children down a slope

We laughed and laughed  till our ribs nearly broke
The grass was wet  and soon so were our flanks
As if we were reviving some lost joke

Back to childhood then  we grew  and wrote
Mainly  to our others to give thanks
We once rolled  joy’s children down a slope

From a bridge, we dropped the paper boats
The Lea is pretty  ghastly, never  punk
In the eighties  Ted Hughes  told a  joke

Crow or wolf or magpie, what a hunk
Waiting for a vision, hit, distinct
We  sold books in moonshine  to the Pope
Feeling wild, enchanted   by new hope

 

All I do for IPSO Mori

Someone rang me last week saying they were from IPSO Mori
They are doing a survey.They want   me to write down everything I do for either a week or  a month
I wonder what they mean by “everything”
I was offered £40 in vouchers.So if I stop writing you will understand
Who would tell strangers everything they did?
I thought it was  for some TV company re which programmes I watch.I could hardly believe  they expected me to tell  them all I do

7 am Went to the lav
Fell over my feet
Brushed my hair
8 am Scratched  my back and had a cup of tea.That was hard
Had more tea and weetabix.Wondered why I washed up
9 am Decided to get up, wondered what to wear
9.30 Daydreamed
10 am Got up, got washed and got dresses.Order is vital
10.30 Felt like emigrating but instead gave a lecture on algebraic topology
11.30 am Felt like a pee again.Wet myself.
Changed my clothes and washed them
11,40 Breathed and  breathed again until full of air
Didn’t like my outfit
12 noon Looked out of the window and wondered if I need a new TV
12,30 pm Went to library and stole 3 books
1 pm Wondered if I could open the sherry  bottle with a cheese grater
Ate a  raw carrot on toast and got diarrhea
2 pm Had some tinned soup from the tin to save energy
Fried my bread in olive oil
3 pm Wrote s story
4 pm Had a fit of laughter and saw  the black cat
6 pm It went dark and I forgot to put the bin out
7 p,m Ate some frozen curry with a knife
8 pm Ate a chocolate biscuit soaked in wine
9 pm Washed my hair with Fairy Snow
10 pm Washed up again
11 pm Went to Tesco’s again then came home
12 midnight Went  out on my broomstick
1 am Fell into a holly tree
2 am Rang 999
3 am Was locked  in cell  with a policeman
4 am Released on bail pending psychiatric exam
5 am Went to bed with the cat
6 am Dreamed about my Jewish boyfriend
7 am Woke up
8 am Decided  not to do this poll

 

What it seemed to be

Mourning has broken
Imbibe with me
E bay in a manger.
Type to say Goodbye
O come all ye wrathful/awful
They sent baiting for our partitions
Guardian angels,  Telegraph demons
All on an apron even.
Enhance me with the sense of love.
So long,carry on
The  tipsy wife.
Alexandra heaving
Three wise men…. send them here
Idolatry is love
Go spell  it to  the Pope

Their lover wants a burglar to alarm

How sad I think of washing the bed sheets
When my partner  holds me in his arms
Instead of kissing me  he   might well shout

Do I get more pleasure as I sleep
Dreaming of a Bendix  and its charms~
How sad I think of washing the bed sheets

Even grown up men are seen to weep
Their lover wants a burglar to alarm
Instead of kissing her , he  might well shriek

Even when it’s raining cats and sleet
Women  hang their washing  in the yard
How sad I think of washing all the  sheets

When we marry we  don’t know these weights
The world sits on  our backs quite unadorned
Instead of kissing  him,she  might well shriek

Now romance  cannot last, and love  lies lame
Buying houses, babies, what to blame?
Women  are still   fraying mind and  sheets
Instead of kissing lovers ,indiscreet

 

Ye olde limerick

I once like to make apple tarts
I was never much good throwing darts
To add some confusion
I had a delusion
That life can be lived as an Art

I like making quiche  while at home
The smell of the pastry is warm
I saw a small ghost
Steal my hot  toast
Then he left, he went over to Rome

My husband would pray in the night
Until dawn came with its gentle light
He liked  my strange fiction
Without contradiction
I wish he were still in my sight

I miss his dear face and his smile
He knew  that I had little guile
How will you manage
He died feeling  anguish
The Devil was let out on bail

Where is paranoia on my sat nav?

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Why have you not got schizophrenia?
Because it wasn’t on the shopping list

Why  the panic?
No, it’s  a punnet 

I want some nutter
Do you mean butter?’
When I say nutter I mean it
Do stop knattering

What is a declension?
All I know is you can’t eat it

What is the plural of  yoga?
Yogae

You broke the Law
Divide and conquer

Where is Latin?
It’s under “Tongues”
Tongues  of Fire?
Sacrilege is bad for you
I’m a demoness
That is not PC
I’ll take the WC instead.
You can’t take it all with you
I’ll  just take the cistern

Do you  think that is funny?
No, but this is

How is this?

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An unusual image by Mike Flemming 2020 Copyright

I have got more and more incontinent.
Do stop admiring Europe

Why do the government tell us to eat more fruit and veg?
To help evacuate the Common Market from our bodies

Why do the government not have enough beds in hospitals?
They can’t all go to sleep at once

Why are the politicians so stupid?
Because we are.

I am still incontinent
Don’t worry, only another week in the EU
I’ll apply for an Irish passport
You’re not Irish
No, but my parents were

I  will  miss  the Spanish omelettes
But you never go there

I  will not  miss Mass on Sundays.
I will  become an atheist  and worship myself for an hour.Much more satisfying.

I wonder how Enlightened we are.
Well, the light is  not the problem.It’s the vision.

I saw the Light once
Say hello from me.

God is love
So is real love God?

Can we go on the Trans Siberian Express
Only if you are Trans
But how do they know?
Wear a T shirt with Trans on the front
That won’t  be very warm in Siberia
We all have to suffer for our beliefs.
It’s not a belief
What, you don’t believe you are trans?
I believe everything.
You’d better be careful.Some people tell lies
Really? I’d never have guessed
You must  be stupid
How rude.
I am very stupid at  relating to people
That’s honest.But don’t tell anyone
But they’ll know after I’ve insulted them again and again
Just smile and keep quiet.
Smile

A million kindle fires

Do you think my house should be rewired?
Should I enlarge my kitchen,go for broke
I have got a hundred kindle fires

I wonder  why I cannot be a liar
I have  got less faith  but still I hope
Do you think my brain should be rewired?

Can I rent a  mind for  thirty  hours?
I ‘d love to go to Chester in a boat
I have got a hundred kindle fires

Am I misusing love and with it power?
Where did Charley hide inside an oak
Do you think my  tongue should be retired?

Many minds have  like the milk gone sour
All they do is send me bytes, not talk
I have got a hundred kindle fires

Why do all  the British fight or mope?
They must have washed their mouths with Fairy Soap
Do you think the world should be rewired?
We   have  got a  billion kindle fires

In the slutch

My mauve silk trousers  fell off in the slutch
I ‘d read the fashion page on Friday night 
Whatever did they mean,  do bring  the pitch?

In heels my entire body seems to lurch
My mother often muttered, what a sight
My mauve silk trousers spluttered in the slutch

A clutch of eggs . a handbag, butter Dutch
My coat was yellow  since  that yolky night
Whatever did they mean, we wring in Church

Slutch is kind of mud that’s damp and rich
In Lancashire, we fall in it when tight
My mauve silk trousers   wasted by the slutch

My hem is down and I’ve no-one to stitch
Am I here for love or to be right?
Whatever did they dream about  our hunch?

I read the fashion page;I saw the light
Turn it off. I don’t feel I am bright
My mauve silk trousers   ruined in the slutch
I had to wear pyjamas in the Church

Oh, good Lord, don’t let me be your prey

I forget that I am old  until I’m out
Walking like a cripple in a drought
People tell me,dial 999
I don’t want to be so well defined 

Getting off the bus, five people call
Wait until he stops or you will fall
Am I looking worse than yesterday?
Oh, good Lord, don’t let me be  your prey

I sit down on a wall, is that a crime?
Have I crossed a boundary or line?
The wooden benches all are gone away
The homeless used to sleep on them, they say

I sang Joan of Arc at the bus stop
In Lancashire they say, y’ alright cock?
Cock and darling,honey and my sweet
My lovely,   you are looking a real treat

I forgot to keep accounts and say my prayers
I guess I’m  fending off some kind of dare
Where’s my handbag, where’s my bloody phone?
It’s acting adolescent as it roams

When I take  naproxen, it won’t work
Opium is dangerous with some luck
I lie in bed and see the sun pour in
Then I know that life will always win

 

It’s wyrd

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I’m a loud speaker
Are you really? I’m a  gramophone needle

Can you speak?
If I couldn’t I wouldn’t be able to answer

Your clothes are very loud
No, your eyes are too sharp

Can you turn up my hem?
That’s a change from looking at your etchings

Where is the button off my shirt?
It can’t speak or phone

Is public speaking easy?
Nothing public is easy.
Even silence.

What is the agenda?
We didn’t do Greek at my school.

Why is weird right? Should it not be wierd?
It used to be wyrd before the Normans
That’s a relief

Where is my hat?
It’s learning tricks.
.
Where is my cashmere jumper?
Inside a lot of moths

Where is the frying pan?
In the fire

Where is the clothes horse?
Naked in a meadow.

Where is my mug?
It’s  been shot
Why do you answer like that?
I’m a robot
I can’t believe it
What will you believe?
I  don’t know…
That toast is Jesus?
How horrible
But do you believe it?
I’m godsnacked
See.

 

 

And died in peace

My husband was a very selfish man
He gave me polish in a brand new tin
That was for the furniture not  for me
Well some may lose yet others might well win

He thought that I was programmed by my genes
To bake him cakes and polish  wood and brass
To cook lamb chops and boil  potatoes new
I said we did not learn that in  the maths class

Then he grew enraged that I was bright
He told me off for playing Chess  with men
He told me off for  reading Wittgenstein
What could I do  but drink   all of his gin?

He complained  I knew the villains in a film
My brain was far to fine to make me dear
Perhaps I was a witch   in angel’s clothes
Drinking tea like  others might drink  beer

After he’d unloaded all his  grief
He thanked me for my  love   and  he died  in peace

The fashion page

What to wear in winter,
What to wear in Fall
What to pay your bills with
Money talk appals

If you read the Guardian
They keep you up to date
One page is genocide
Next how to find a mate

Seems a  denim jacket
Lined in wool of sheep
Will be ideal clothing
For those we love to meet

Standing at the bus stop
I feel very cold
Seems they do not think about
The poor folk and the old

Of course it’s for the adverts
Not for real life
Not for  poor  dear husbands
Nor even poorer wives

Why if we are human
Cannot we decide
What to wear in Winter
Not be taken for a ride

The Fire

The fire  shot out its sparks  like Catherine wheels
The coals  were living creatures and red-faced
Now I’m angry,I know how  they feel

We said night prayers with hearts like stainless steel
Said them fast as if prayer were  a race
The fire  shot out its sparks  like Catherine wheels

My mind was wriggling like an angry eel
As if it sought for subjects to out-face
Now I’m angry,I know how that will feel

The outside stiff, the inner self revealed
The fury at the loss of love’s embrace
The fire shot out its sparks like Catherine wheels

We were raised to keep our wounds concealed
To show no affect, keep a stiffened face
Now I’m angry,I know how that feels

Never given love  nor even praise
Is it a surprise we were ill graced?
The fire  shot out its sparks  like Catherine wheels
Anger made our hearts dance violent reels

Mary meets a man

 

New cats todayI

I am doing research into which place people watch TV, the young man at the door told Mary
I rarely watch TV, Mary informed him
First please tell me your name and ethnic group .he asked her.We must follow the rules ,if not the rulers. he muttered
My name is Danish so I am a Viking, she told him proudly
OK, that makes you English, he said deftly filling his form
You might as well say that the Romans  descendents  are English, she said in her mellifluous voice
After 2,000 years I think they qualify, he joked
Some were black
I don’t care if they are purple, he said courteously.At some point  those born here are English.
What we mean is that there is no such thing as being English,Mary said academically
So true, the poor man John  whispered.I am a Celt.Not a cult. You seem a very nice lady.Would you like to go  to McDonald’s with me? We could csrry on chatting
Do  you mean come?
Come or go,   give me an answer.do
I know it’s not where you usually go but I don’t earn much.
Yes,I’ll meet you at the bus stop at 5 pm, she answered.I don’t  have a car
Neither do I, said John.
I like this bus.The people on it are really friendly
Mary shut the door and  wondered what to wear
Annie appeared and tapped on her window with her manicured hands
You are just who I need,Mary cried with joy.
She explained her  problem and her date
I think jeans and a nice anorak with a scarf that makes you look grotesque
Will John like that?
It’s the fashion,Annie said pertly.I am amazed you are going out with that man.You don’t
know who he is.He might be  a murderer.
I doubt if a psychopath would take me for a burger… more likely a posh restaurant
Good point, said Annie brightly
Let’s look at my scarves,Mary said.How about this zebra print?
I like this blue one with books printed on it,said Annie
I could wear  both of them!~
You could start a trend, her dear neighbour told her
Meanwhile Emile was having a panic attack in the kitchen
Don’t panic,Emile said Mary.You can’t linger in McDonalds
The seats are small and close together
Tell me, which scarf do you prefer?
I like that one with cat’s eyes on it.Wear that and he will know you have  a protector.
Honestly, it’s too much bother to decide.If only women had fur like cats,Mary said
What about shoes? called Annie
I’ll wear the green trainers and red socks
You will be a sight for sore eyes if you add some makeup
On hearing this, Mary screamed hysterically.
I think I’ll stay at home

And so will all of us

While there’s life, there’s still a hint of hope

Don’t  be anxious whether you’ll be shot
Take your break in Morecambe with a cat
Do not go to Bethlehem   this year
Someone built a wall and we feel scared

Could Jesus and his parents  have got out?
Babies cannot climb  nor can they shout
Should we go to Rome to see the Pope?
While there’s life, there’s still a hint of hope

Did Jesus really  want to start a Church?
Perhaps he wanted rabbits and a hutch
By now the entire world would be full   up
Would  endearing rabbits  interrupt?

Better to play simple in our prayers
Say them daily,  don’t  get in  arrears

New Blue

 

 

 

I wonder what’s the reason  we call a sad mood blue
My fountain pen is coping but I have not got  the glue
I see your eye is staring and I know it is a clue
Send me to the theatre and I will get the cue

I wanted to get  dressed today but I couldn’t find my shoe
I watched a film of cows on heat, all they say is moo
Would they change their attitude if I was  still with you?
Take me to America. take me to the Zoo   

I have got no appetite.I need someone new
The food is very boring,  it’s made with UHU
You put  it in the microwave and send a text or two
Blimey,I forgot it was a homemade real beef stew

Well,  the moon is shining and Paul Robeson  gleams in glee
I want the stars to play with me, they pray for very few

Test to end the weak

low angle photography of red metal tower
Photo by Anni Roenkae on Pexels.com
multicolored mosaic photo
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Pexels.com

How any degrees are there in a right mangled triangle?
Is any parallelogram square?
Is a square a rectangle?
How many  angles are there in an ellipse?
How many angels are there altogether?
Can a cube go flat?
Why was there only one snake in Eden?
How many apples did Eve use to make her pudding?
Did you ever get excited by quadratic equations?
Did Q E s want to be solved?
Do you feel equipped to follow my Log?
Why not do it yourself?
Why not have an uncivil partnership?
You saw it here first

What to “wear” in “January”

Photo by u00darsula Madariaga on Pexels.com

 

 

Having studied “What to wear in January” in the Guardian,I can only afford the woollen hat
So I shall

1 Wear a  calf  length woollen   coat bought in 2005 in  a Sale over  whatever  clothes
I have kept  moths from eating

or

2 Wear a Gore Tex hooded and quilted parka from TK Maxx in 2007 for £49.99 with a pair of culottes…..pickled in vinegar.

3.Wear 10 wool vests under a coat “with a hint of wool”  and  my pyjamas
” with a hint “of   ” cotton”

4 An old fleece  dressing gown  from the Independent with my husband’s socks and shoes.

5 Grow my hair and wear a throw or ten

Amber eyes

I brought home a kitten from a friend
So tiny yet so fierce he bit my hands
We could not find him  when we came back home
He was   tucked in with the sheet  under the foam

We  had no garden so we  took him out
Wrapped in a wool cardigan,I think
He lay contented on my knee  all day
Looking at the trees and coloured sky

When mature  he roamed the night away
Sleeping in a rocking chair all day
Benjamin, we called him, was run down
In the rush hour by a speeding clown,

The amber eyes of  Benjamin would glow
He gave us  happiness,we  loved him so

Her pure nylon nightdress covered in snakes

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Photo by Mike Flemming

Annie went onto Mary’s patio at 10 am and  began  to water her many  tubs.The watering can was filled with rain water though the weather was now  a  little drier.Emile ran behind her admiring her  tight  black jeans from Calvin Klein and her red blouse from Bowlands of  Wrath.Suddenly the bedroom window opened and Mary leaned out.
Hi Annie,I have not gone away after all.I
Why not? asked her caring and dear  neighbour loutishly.
Well,I completely forgot because I was out last night meeting a man from Soul-mates and got home so late I slept right through the alarm.
A pity you didn’t bring him back,said Annie licking her lips.
I cant  bring any man here so soon,Mary   informed her.I rang the hotel and cancelled my booking.With the weather so  odd even Blackpool Illuminations would not cheer anyone up.I didn’t know which clothes to take either.
Isn’t it interesting that as we get better off we get problems like that,remarked Annie. When we were young we had so few clothes we had no trouble  packing.
Mary laughed.My first year after University I bought two cotton dresses  in Woolworth’s.I thought they were  ok but later discovered they were almost transparent.Anyway we wore them  and threw them away.But now few women wear dresses.Look at you in those jeans and you a pensioner!
Annie gazed up to Mary, revealing her  thick Revlon skin polish and L’Oreal cream  rich foundation in golden grey-beige.Her parted lips were coated in moisture rich coral lipstick by  Mussolini and Co. of Argentina and Vienna.
Mary was wearing a long nightgown made of pure nylon decorated with photos of cats of all breeds.Emile had given it her for her birthday.He had managed to type it into the google box on his laptop paying with Stan’s credit card from the Bank of Vichy and Nice,France.
I want some tea,Mary said.Soon she appeared in a  polyester house dress from Daxon of Paris and the Ruhr. lt was covered in   pictures of snakes.
Why,those snakes are rather horrible, Annie said.
I know snakes are in fashion but I shall avoid them.I saw some trousers in Marks but they might give a man the wrong impression.
That is sexist ,Mary told her shyly.They might give a lesbian the wrong impression too.
Oh,dear. Isn’t life hard now when we have to be so careful what we say.I wonder if it is because of social alienation and the rapid changes in demographics that we need rules when before we knew all our neighbours and they knew  us.With strangers we need more rules.
I agree, said Mary defiantly.And I just saw a book called “Compassionate Assertiveness Training”She laughed.
Shall we send one to Donald  Trump.Can you  believe what America is like if a man like that can be President?
Well,it’s a democracy so if Satan lived there he could stand if he had  the money..
The two  women suddenly fell silent.Emile was puzzled as they rarely paused like this once they got going
Is he the anti-Christ, purred the little cat.
Satan or Donald Trump? asked Annie.
Well …. we’ve never seen Satan as yet…But we must watch out in case he comes here to punish the weak and the sick.
Well that gave them all a moment of wonder before Mary grilled some bacon and cut some bread from a loaf she got   in  the Victoria Bakery.
Here you are,she said to Annie,handing her a sandwich.Better eat anyway,whatever happens.Give me some  hot tea,quick
And so pray all of us.
For he’s a Bally Woodfiller,
He’s a Wooly Sad Triller
And all day so are us.

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?

Yes, my husband is a changed man since he died
I have  dreamed  of him  so frequently  he hides
One night we knelt  down on the kitchen floor
With brillo pads in hand we scrubbed the door

Then we cleaned the oven for two hours
Death has given him  such odd new powers
He never speaks nor asks me what to do
Thank the Lord our fireplace  no flue

I see more of him  now  that he is dead
For every night these dreams  live in my head
He does not go to work nor write more books
He goes to Ealing and he wants to cook

Should I buy some ground in the church yard?
I have his ashes standing by the lard
In the fridge the suet   waits for me
To make an apple dumpling for our tea


Oh, yes he likes to know what I shall eat
He starved to death,his heart was far too weak
But yet he likes to see  me eat and sleep
And have a little   cat next to my feet

So far I do not love another man
I should become pan-sexual if I can
For then I need  not worry who to please
I hate to lose myself  but like to tease

Should my husband see   me in the bed
With another pillow and a head
He might feel unwanted  and be sad!
Yet he left me and now I’m feeling mad

Why  clean the oven, clean the kitchen sink?
Why change the plugs and make the cat drink ink?
Why have breakfast, why eat bread and jam?
Why cook bacon in the frying pan?

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?
Why get up  when I shall later lie?
Why get washed when dirt  comes back again?
Why wash my hair and use a fountain pen?

I wonder why the floor is full of mud
And whether nature gave me enough blood.
Life is so precarious  use it well
Before we hear the  tolling of  the knell

 

 

We left the  old Road Atlas in a box

London is bewildered by its roads
The Circular, the North,the South,  the Codes
The Morse  and the  Enigma Turing broke
So now we have new bicycles with spokes

Once we had the A to Z  in hand
Turn it upside down and you’ll be grand
New technology has  made  great strides
Carrying us to Eden ,what a ride

The motorways are  empty  for  tonight
God decided  we had too much Light
He  taught the bare cheeked Moon   on Jesus’ mount
To turn the other side when love’s about

I liked to use a compass and a map
But now, my dear,  most everything’s on tap
I crouch  beneath my sister as she drives
In the dark on the M 25

But if it’s closed, we are completely foxed
We left the  old Road Atlas in  a box
Along with all my ex’s underpants
And naturally  his principles of Kant

We may be in Watford  or in Bucks
I  often wonder what will rhyme with luck
We may be near St Alban’s, we can’t see
The car ran up the trunk of this oak tree

We rang 999  and they are here
A fire engine filled  up with Kentish beer
A ladder  for the ladies to climb down
Now they are just women on the town

London won’t exist ,destroyed by cars
Angry men who cannot find a bar

Sitting in the bathroom,I’ve been stuck in here all night

Sitting in the bathroom,I’ve been stuck in here all night
Something alien’s in my gut, it seems there  is a fight
I wish I were asleep in bed, warm and bathed in dreams
My mind is underfunctioning, a dodo  or a scream

In the bed the sheet  has moved.someone else is here
I’ll share my bed with anyone  but they must not come near
Negotiations all the time, the enemy, the fear
We hate best all those we love, for they stole  mother dear

Up again I feel my way without the bedside light
I don’t want the beetles   running ,fearing human sight
I didn’t know I ate so much, but now I shall be drained
Sitting here, I feel annoyed by all these ugly pains

Would I were a babe again,wrapped in mother’s arms
Smelling her  dear,dear perfume. as her comfort makes me warm

What you write is  almost never wrong

Do you think that you can’t write a verse
Free or formed, a villanellse or song
 Do you fear the  end , so  feel accursed?

The first words are banana,gold and terse
Start from that new sentence on your tongue
Do you think that you can’t write a verse?

Bananas ,phallic symbols, unrehearsed
What you write is  almost never wrong
Is you fear the  end   be not accursed

Golden is the joy when we’re immersed
In the company  that knows our tongue
Do you think that you can’t write a verse?

My lover speaks but he is often terse
He prefers to use a gesture not a word
Is you fear the  end   you’re not the first

In the mind float symbols , gold, absurd
Metaphors   that hunger to be heard
Do you think that you can’t write a verse?
If you fear the  end , we’re here  at worst