Category: humor

Test to end the weak

low angle photography of red metal tower
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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”

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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

 

 

He told me once that saying Mass is just a piece of cake

The fishing nets have tangled round a  little submarine
Can the sailors pull it up, or will their nets all break?
We wonder  who might live in it,  it can’t be the Queen

I looked once in the mirror and I see my face is green
Maybe I’ll eat soup again and not a giant rump steak
The fishing nets once tangled round a  little submarine

We once had a Bishop but he just  had a Dean
He told me once that saying Mass is just a piece of cake
We wonder  who might like such food,  it can’t be the Queen

I  get washed  with olive oil and in summer I feel clean
I wish that little wafer were a Cadbury’s chocolate  flake
The fishing nets once wrangled and their maths was quite marine

If I see my boyfriend now,I might let out a scream
Feeling his proximity, my entire heart might break
We wonder  who might  enjoy that  it can’t be the Queen

Life can be  much better with a little pat and stroke
Wash your mate in olive oil, he’s such a lovely bloke
The fishing nets did tangle round a  little submarine
We wonder  who might live in it,  God has not been seen

 

 

 The funniest things I did year 2018

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When my electric blanket broke, I tried to warm my cold feet with a hairdryer.It is no use.I put 3 pairs of socks on  and somehow got warmer

I realised, when your husband dies, it’s pointless crying when you lose your necklace or watch as nobody else is interested [ maybe that is not true]
I sang “Joan of Arc in a Canadian accent at the bus stop [ so I am told]
I told a man “I am Leonard Cohen” even though I am a woman.Transpersonal?
I put my clothes on inside out before I went to a dinner party.Noone said anything
I forgot who I was.Then I read my blog.Need I say more?
I made up conversations in my head but never said anything out loud to a  live person
I played Trivial Pursuits
I  forgot what Quantum Theory was.This may help my social life
I decided never to argue again.The logic is dependent on axioms and, if we do not have the same ones ,it is pointless.
I told a neighbour I used to be very quiet and she said, you still  are very quiet.
I remembered a student crying when I was teaching the history of mathematics.She was crying  with happiness and asked, why were we not taught like this at school [  maybe because I am unique]
I wonder if  people live alone for a long time they may lose their emotions as  I believe emotions are interpersonal

Well as it’s free we do not have to pay

I went to vote, the queue ran down the street
Strange to see the British change their ways
None were holding phones  nor were there bleeps

Eager faces, animation sweet
Well as it’s free we do not have to pay
I went to vote, the queue ran down the street

The staff were  kind, the voters  were no sheep
They did not need a shepherd  for this Play
None were holding phones  nor were there bleeps

The politicians   crippled by conceit
Put fake websites on the net  today
I went to vote, the queue ran up the street

I alas am  old  but I still sweat
The stupidity of   gossip  is  made clear
No-one made a video   of my seat

I  did not queue, a cripple  may   shed tears
All I  have is  sight loss and  burnt ears
I went to vote, the queue  stood   with no light
Smiling, patient people black and white

Never join conspiracies or choirs

Why do we love  those who love us least
To prove we can obtain whom we desire?
He makes cruel comments at the wedding feast

Do not call  this man a nasty beast
An animal is  better than a liar
Why do we love  those who love us   least?

He shouts  in rage because his shirt is creased
Throws your letters into the coal fire
He makes crude comments   at our Xmas feast

I do not mind  if you are dressed in fleece
Wear nylon shirts and  shoes with laces wired
Why do we love   most the late deceased?

Never borrow  men  who have no price
Never join conspiracies or choirs
If they make  “remarks”   don’t on them feast

The  old cathedrals have  the tallest  spires
With older men the risks are  sadly higher
Why do we love  those who love us least
Who  cannot be polite at wedding feasts?

 

I shan’t be alone

In my coffin I will have no phone
At last I shall be free  like  new born babe
But how will people hear my mobile groans?

Who shall write  my story on a  stone?
I can’t ring Emergency  for aid
In my coffin I will have no phone

I must have a linen sheet untorn
Be reminded I’ve already paid
How will people hear my mobile groans?

Out we go, as in we, came alone
Will someone sing for me ,   oh humming bird
In my coffin I will need no phone

We will  die as we have lived, atoned
I hope  a human person hears my words
Help  us all,dear God, to forestall groans

Free  from medications  .free of  nerves
 Straight to Heaven  atop our loved ones prayers
In my coffin I   shan’t  be alone
I want to go with all my garden gnomes

 

 

 

My naked flesh

On my journey into sleep I hold
A little bag which holds a tiny phone
I hold a spray of GNT  to bomb
My arteries as wide as a mother’s thumb

Yet I’d like to go in naked form
Trusting in the darkness as a balm
Before  all, this  I loved my naked flesh
That with my loved one I might be enmeshed

Now I seem in danger from myself
My own heart is severed from its wealth
Migraine of  the heart can lead to death
Through my artery I  express   wrath

What other mysteries can my body  know?
Thank God,I  only signed for Pay and Go

 

There’s always cake

white and blue floral table lamp
Photo by fotografierende on Pexels.com

What a great thing Food Banks are.You can meet people like yourself and if there are enough tins of  baked beans you can ask someone round for tea.I expect if there’s no bread there will be cake

 I hope there will be some PG tips tea.I hate foreign food even tea. and   want real tea made in England and well brewed

Gosh even if you are rolling in money you can still trawl Charity Shops  in Hampstead  for cheap designer wear.The poor don’t need designer clothes.I mean, they don’t even know what they are, do they?And they are hardened to the cold.Why in my mother’s era they had no shoes and when you think about it. why does the government not ban shoes for people on benefits?

I  think it’s wonderful of the people in Vietnam to make a hundred T shirts a day for 10 pence
I mean, it is a job  all is said and done.I once worked as waitress and it  is such fun during the vacation from Oxford.We are only there 24  weeks a  year so I need to be occupied but only with my consent.My mother is descended from King Charles 2nd! He had lots of mistresses, such a naughty boy.Bring back the mistress but don’t marry her

When the cat has screamed

 

 

 

cats on sofa (1)I

I see I’m very smartly dressed today
My jumper’s striped in black and clotted  cream
I have  a  black skirt with embroidery

This outfit was not planned in anyway
I got dressed in  the bathroom,  the cat screamed!
I see I’m very smartly dressed today

The skirt is from a pricey place’s sale
The jumper ‘s M and S, is that obscene?
I have  a  black skirt with embroidery

The opthalmologist admired my taste
I seem to dress just like our much loved Queen
 I see I’m very smartly dressed today

I feel  so happy , that   is no  disgrace
From  my chair I see the sun’s gold beams
I have  a  black skirt , flowers in their place

I used to wear a T shirt and old jeans
When I was teaching maths  and  losing dreams
I see I’m very smartly dressed  again
I  have  a  black skirt  on, is that depraved?

 

Stan and the angel

  • \
  • imageedit_13_4106504267Stan had eaten too much pizza because he was extremely ravenous from doing the washing. and hanging it up on the mulberry tree in his long garden Now he felt lazy and haphazardly dim and other worldly and liable to have visions..
    Now and then he saw an angel whom he called Yael in his home.But having looked up Yael on a website he realised she was not a very nice woman unlike his dear wife Mary.So he was planning a new name for the angel with her permission
  • Do you mind if I change your name,he enquired gently when Yael came in through the French window.
    Well,what to? Yael asked him familiarly
    How about Ysabel? Stan offered.It’s got just an extra b and s.
    Or how about,Sybael?
    You seem fond of b and s, the angel answered in confusion.
    It was just mere chance,said Stan somewhat defensively.
    Ok I’ll take Sybael,the angel said loudly .

    I want to change my name too, said Emile the cat of Stan.
    How about Mebiles or Melibes or Eimbles….
    I don’t know, pouted the cat haughtily.
    How about Semile,said Stan.T
    hough it has no letter b in it, he bragged.
    They all pondered quietly as the sun shone in through the window and made a lovely lacy pattern on the wall.

    In came Mary,Stan’s sweet old wife and his computer aided extension too.
    You are very quiet,she murmured.What’s going on here ?
    We are trying to find a new name for Emile,Stan told her as Sybael waved her wings about.
    It seems very draughty in here,Mary said.
    And Emile can’t change his name because it will change his personality.
    I didn’t know I had a personality,the little cat purred.
    It is what is most characteristic of you.For example, if you always hurt those you love then you have a cruel personality or you have got diabetes.Some people want love but they are too harsh and demanding.
    So true,Stan added pensively.
    Anyway,I have some awfully strange news,Mary went on.
    You just won’t believe this but Dorothy Grey who lives at the bottom of the hill has just had a heart attack.
    How come?
    She had an online love relationship with a rather peculiar but intriguing and clever elderly man who turned out to be a sadist in disguise.So when she ended the affair he flew over and attacked her with an air gun and some cat’s claws which he had bought from a cat market
    Is he a wizard,asked Emile.
    No, he flew on a stolen magic carpet from Persia.
    Persian carpets,I’d love one here said the cat greedily
    Actually it’s a kind of plane,said Stan.
    How boring ,said Mary angrily.
    Anyway Dorothy was so shocked her arteries spasmed and she is in A and E now on morphine,she added…
    What a shame that she got that instead of a spasm elsewhere….Stan muttered thinking of Freud.
    But who’d have sex with such a horrible old man? Mary asked.
    An equally horrible old woman,maybe? Stan riposted.
    Any way it all goes to show the dangers of online love, he informed the room.
    It’s not real love,is it, because in real love the other person is as important to you as yourself.Mary said theologically.
    Well. now Eros is a kind of love,too.But many old men just want their washing done and a companion.Eros has departed from their world.
    Sybael smiled and then flew out of the window.

    What was that noise, said Mary anxiously.
    Just an angel’s wings,said Stan quietly
    If only Dorothy had seen an angel instead of that harsh old man she might be much better now.Mary mused.But not everyone can see them.Their world seems full of horrible old men and beautiful young women
    Emile winked at Stan and then ran out to chase a butterfly amongst the scented tulips.. there were lots of angels there every day but only he knew.
    Angels don’t like big modern cities but they like old abbeys and cathedrals and places where such things used to be before post modernist architecture took over.
    And cat’s claws are not meant for scratching your loved ones either.And online dating should be avoided except with atheists and agnostics.They are less judgemental about women’s place and roles.It’s strange how harsh many religious people are.Harsh and unforgiving.

We’re not supposed to say

You know the widow’s sad and can mourn and grieve all day
But the anger and the hatred,she’s not supposed to say
She can cry  upon the duvet, she can scream under the stairs
But the rage and  irritation are  not to be declared
She can order man size tissues in boxes multiplied
But the venomous ,vindictive  imply that love had died
She can  be  dissociated, she can be without affect
But if  she says how well  she hated him, everybody’s vexed
Who can live so closely for forty and five years
Without needing a  dressmaker to sew up all the tears?
Who can  be accepting when money and time’s scarce
There’s a war inside the heart of us,   everybody knows
Scratched and bitten daily,   struck by falling stars
Who  knows what we’re feeling . what is out too far?

Does it matter what the numbers where?

 For 1600 days I woke alone
Does it matter what the numbers where?
25 x 64  unknown

For 1600 nights I sleeping moaned
Does sorrow  have to make us feel too bare?
For 1600 days I woke alone

1600  dreams , you   cracked my bones
Does  there have to be  a number bar?
25 x 64  unknown

 For 1600 , 2  to power stole
Does   crime like that  show how you broke my heart?
For 1600 days I woke alone

For 1600, 5 is squared and  bold
Does that   throw us off the apple cart?
25 x 64 , a poem

Why  does the mind  too lone become a liar ?
Who will stoke its everlasting pyre?
For 1600 days I woke alone
32 x 50  what’s this game?

200 days times 8……my mind now claims
For forty days  did Jesus learn Love’s  game
400 days times 4,   is that  your claim?
100 days times sixteen, naught remains

Illusions

Women screen themselves without the veil
Wear their   cream foundation, dye their hair
Get push up bras with wires as thick as cords
Thongs  that I have seen  when jeans are worn!
They wear dark glasses, strands of  lucid pearls
Hoping to attract a deviant earl
They wear pyjamas ,claiming to be cold
Or polyester nighties   men can’t hold
But Shakespeare said that all the world’s a stage
This fills me with  annoyance. even rage
Yet I see it’s true  when I go out
Disguise myself  with crutches and shoes stout
Cut my hair till hardly any’s left
That is right,I  act like I am deaf
I wash it in the kitchen with  the plates
The water’s hot and  hair cannot escape
It looks pathetic  yet I am so old
White hair is the fashion for the bold
I smile with pensive attitude and    plead
Do not  quarrel if I act with speed

You have to laugh or else you’ll cry

 

 

Autumn 2013 008

My image  of my own garden

 

 

Since my husband died I have been afflicted with recurrent UTI’s.
This year  has been the worst I have only one  entire month  when I was well.
Unfortunately   they affect the brain  and hence the mind.I have had scans but it seems my immune system is not strong.I wondered if it was the steroid injections as steroids do affect things like white blood cells etc

Anyway, today I have something humorous to tell you.~
I  have  had antibiotics then they doctor asked me to take a sample to send to  the pathology lab
I took it yesterday.When I gave it  to the receptionist she said in a  rather unkind tone
Why have you brought this?

I wonder why?
I might have said, it’s your morning  coffee replacement
Your plants need watering.
It seemed a good idea at the time
It’s so pale I wonder if I have anaemia.
I was bored and wanted to see you.
Mind your own business
However I just said the doctor told me to
Are they trying to economise even on lab tests?
The government has told doctors to delay the referring for cataract surgery
As my mother used to say:You have to laugh or else you’d cry

What we women wear

beach bikini braided hair carefree
Photo by Vaibhav Kashyap on Pexels.com

Why are we still suffering for our appearance?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Underwire_bra

You may like your wife or partner to look like this but do you know what it feels like?[Though once or twice these wires have deflected bullets] never knew what underwires looked like until I accidentally bought a nice looking bra online.When I felt the wires I decided to remove them.I am really shocked to see how tough and strong these wires are.I imagine unless you were very thin [and would not need much of a bra] the wires would really cut into your flesh at the sides where it runs up the cup edge.The wires are so strong I am sure one could make a weapon from them.I showed one to a friend and he was horrified.But looking round Marks and Spencer that great British shop [!] most bras are underwired.
I can’t see how,if you have large breasts that these wires would hold them up.They’d just dig in and then the breast would hang over the edge.
With all the fear of breast cancer,why do we submit to the diktat that we must make our breasts stand up or out?
If we are that bothered then wearing a long waistcoat over a top or blouse would hide our bulging figures.
So either I return to modelling birds from wire [ I have done before] or else it’s the garbage can for these nightmare objects.I wonder who invented them?

When the underwire breaks through the bra fabric, it can cause tremendous discomfort. Celebrity chef, television personality, and businesswoman Clarissa Dickson Wright only wears a bra on special occasions. At her 50th birthday party, she was dancing when she suddenly felt a “terrifying pain in my chest.” She initially thought she was having a heart attack. “The pain got more and more intense. I staggered off and discovered I’d broken my underwired bra.”

Older and older,I’ll never leave you,but I will,no doubt, grieve 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?

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  showing  love to  you

And find something  wise to do without you

like making a Christmas Cake

Yes,I can bake

What do you hate?

 

 

They’ve offered me a job dry cleaning Hell

Hypothermia made me write so well
The pen froze to my hand and would not leave
They’ve offered me a job dry cleaning Hell

Just in case my head should start to swell
I made myself a hat from dried brown leaves
Hypothermia made me write real well

The government is  giving us free bells
So they will ring whenever we’re deceived
They’ve offered me a job dry cleaning Hell

Hell is very fiery but with gel
I can get it  clean   from all disease
Hypothermia made me write,oh very well

I tell a lie, the cold invades my cells
I can’t clean  yet a bottle in a breeze
They’ve offered me a job dry cleaning Hell

My husband is asthmatic, he can wheeze
He has  inhalers as his lungs will tease
Hypothermia made me write so well
They’ve offered me a  column, what the hell

 

 

 

 

Paper knives

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Art by Katherine

If women’s eggs can be frozen,  can’t hens?
If paper can cut  the skin why not have paper knives ?
What about paper tissues?
Why is reading a book better than reading on a phone?
Why are   some pens called fountain?
Why are hedge-hogs unsuitable for a full English breakfast?
Why does France still have wild boars when we only have Royal bores?
Why  can’t I build a  new house in my neighbours large garden and make a drive for my car through their side entrance?
Why do some people  talk like robots?
Why do people feel life has no meaning ?
What could be a meaning for life?
Why do people read in bed?
Who forbade sex  outside Harwich ?
Why can I perceive  but not conceive?
Is it better to be deceived than to deceive?
Why did I forget to put  my hat on a stand?
Why is it called an overcoat?
Do we  really need Carmel’s underwear in winter?
I am pleased  but not guilty  of the Charge of the Light Discard
Do you like Monet’s   collars?
Why did Picasso bowl me over?
Why did Lincoln Cathedral  turn my legs to jelly?
Can God prove we exist?
Does that explain the 20th Century?
Ahomoist or Avirist?
Pick and mix your flaws
Why can MP’s steal  without  being charged?
Is the Government flat? Buy new batteries from Europe and speed Brexit
And it came to pass
And his name was called by e.manual.org
Do not harass a worm just because it can’t bite you
What is a rhyme a cousin?
QED
Please queue  Elsie dear
Quarrels ended dinner
Quebec  entered  directly
I don’t know about a Common Market but we have a common country
Leaving the EU maybe masochistic even when legal
Goodness Brie
Lord love a duck

We went to Tonga for a brake

My foot was in my mouth while I waited to get my test results from the doctor

I did an Eye test and I  am  greatly believed to be normal

She looked as if she wallowed  in dictionaries

Curiosity  killed the stats

Where is my youth, my charm, my air?

A  thrilling moan  is rather maddening next door

He knows the deception of the rules

We went to Tonga for a  brake

Before I die,I’d like to relax just once

My bucket list is  full of sand

Did you think purple would suit you?

I’m sorry I can’t let you in.My cat is in the washing machine but don’t tell anyone

Gosh,it  must be hard to choose glasses   when your nose is so small.Such a pity  you are myopic and your complexion  is  a sin and a shame

Did you think purple would suit you?

Khaki is hard to wear.You are very brave.Why not wear a very big pink scarf over your face/Try a Muslim shop.Or  the market

Sorry, I can’t pick the phone up.My  feet are aching

Do you wear pests in winter? A nice fox is flattering to a pale face/

We are having a new dish tonight.
Pickled hearts on a bed of mashed kale with pork dumplings.Oh,I forget you are Jewish; you are not that intelligent.
I’d invite you again but my husband is very anti-semitic.
He was born that way so his mother says.Ironically her mother was Jewish.It’s a strange world.
How did you feel in Auschwitz?
I don’t suppose they gave you the full English breakfast of egg,bacon and sausages.
Still, you have lost weight.You look like Kate Moss but older.Maybe I should  try it except they’ve knocked it down.Not to mention  the synagogues.Still we must keep smiling.We’re all 1% Jewish  but we like bacon.Will we ever be forgiven?

Is  that a love bite on your neck or is it permanent?

Is that coat real wool or is it woven by sheep?

Are tbose mittens or have your fingers fused together?

Such a pity about the buttons.They ruin the coat.Mind you mustard is not my favourite colour.Beggars can’t  be choosers,I guess.

Coats for winter
Wool   blend = 10% wool
Wool rich-         40% wool
Real Italian wool= 29% wool
A touch  of wool for comfort =1%
Very warm coat = 0% wool

 

Micro-salvation for all

Try our Salad Scream today
Try battering your toast in the morning
Do not put silt on  my egg
Do not be too free with that  red popper
French flies are a change for  an English man
Can potatoes boast in the microwave?
I like zips on everything
Cod in bitter with dried fleas is for Fridays only
In a class ,the whip on my trousers broke.The students were benighted.
Capital or corporal let the punishment fit the times
Do you weed newspapers?
Don’t wave the sun about.God will be ferociously sad

We won’t know if Hitler’s come back

Why  do you watch the news, mother
It always makes you get so sad
You wake up  feeling  in the pink
Then all your spirits sink
Don’t you know you can drive yourself mad?

I saw you in the Hat shop this morning
You were trying on velvet  and fur
I think maroon is too dark for you
Try coral , eyes will spark for you
Then you won’t get mal de mere!

Yet if we don’t read a news precis
We won’t know if Hitler’s come back
So choose very wisely
Even precisely
Then act if it makes you feel black.

What do we need to  know daily
About the PM and his friends
Use your own judgement
About the repugnant
We hope to avoid a dead end

My late one’s whisky bottle

I am being haunted by a bottle
It’s half full of whisky,which I hate
I thought your love would be a bit more subtle

You see  love as a  fraught battle
I ache to see  the next, who is my fate
I am being haunted by a bottle

Why you sent me whisky is a puzzle
I prefer a cup of tea with cake
I thought your love would be a bit more subtle

!I don’t like your kisses,wear a muzzle!
I am not the Lady in the Lake
I am being haunted by a bottle

We will never make a lovely couple
The atmosphere is poison when I bake
I thought your love would be a bit more subtle

I  feel so cold I’d like a fire and stake
My spelling is atrocious,oh, milk flake
I am being haunted by a bottle
I  enjoy love   only when it’s subtle

Knit of fear

Suddenly  the winter snow is here
What we desire  does not have any weight
Britain is now covered with new fears

At least the men are far too cold to leer
Wearing shoes that don’t protect their feet
When  the winter snow is  resting here

Babies shiver  as their mothers steer
Down the   unkempt homely little streets
Britain is now covered with new fears

Do I look a clot in  padded gear?
Shall I savour  friends   who’re bittersweet
As the winter snow is  resting here?

Am I  a racist, do you hate  the  Jews?
Shall we drop a bomb  on ghostly fleets?
Britain  revives madness old and new 

In the hills  we hear forlorn sheep bleat
Disappointed. where’s the Paraclete?
Once again  the winter snow is here
Britain  wears a blanket   knit of fears