Where is Ipswich, what is true
Where is Norwich, deja vu
Cambridge juggles counterpoise
Here’s the train, is it full
Will there be a cord to pull
Is it diesel, is it steam?
It’s atomic in its beams
I can sit and Sudoku
I’ll sing and whistle as you coo
Let’s not read the Gaza strip
Cartoons make old people sick
Is it real, is it true
Jesus sat down next to you
He abhors the Holy Land
He prefers the Southport sands.
Would you be more gentle,dear,I cried
She pushed my head as if it were a stone
I only want my hair washed not to die
And BTW why are you using Tide
Shampoo is much kinder,on I moaned~
Could you be more gentle,dear,I cried
I ‘m glad you don’t use Ariel, suicide
She wrote about the Moon, her love and home
Did she want her hair washed not to die?
In Spain she bought sardines so she could fry
In the wilds of Devon left alone
Ted was getting famous, not his wife
I re-enter time ,I let her dye
My hair is purple when rinsed from the foam
Did Plath want her hair dyed not to die?
Marriage holds a breeze but not a storm
The rose had pricked her finger with its thorn
Could we be more gentle if we tried?
We all need human love or we will die
The bus stop says its out of use this week
Men are digging up the road again
I never knew that modern bus stops speak
I wonder will the street lamps follow suit
Their voices like the chiming of Big Ben
The bus stop says its out of use this week
Maybe I can find another route
Will railway stations stutter like shy men?
I never knew that modern bus stops speak
How to travel ,hearing voices break
Pity and compassion hit my pen
The bus stop says its out of use this week
I fear my travel plans have gone astray
The journey I am on will never end
Did you know that modern bus stops speak?
From the dark grey sky the rain descends
Evolution staggers round the bends
The bus stop says its out of use this week
I never knew that modern bus stops speak
Blue toads enlarged in a yellow flood
And surry I could not blather soist
And be one babbeller, ling I grud
And clacked one fur- eyed as ice blood
To tare it blent as a wander floweth
Toen blooked by wither, as bossed dax air
And having unhopped the wetter shamed
Oh, goss, wit coast flash yet stanted hares
Oh as for thit, they possing gloired
Had corn them unweilded about das Rhine
And writh in mourning cheaply dazed
In weaves no step had tradden tslicks
Oh, I whipt the wrist for loither sthays
Shirp glawing love leads on to try
I dothered if I sheid leve knapsacks
I rell ye telling this wuth a lie
Somewhere riges and roges tense
Two toads day-verged in a giraffe, and aye
I took the one I wunt blud to cry
A sprat is maiden, by honey penced
My nightmare lives in bed, oh fire,burned bright
I’m chased by signs,equations and cats’ eyes
After I’ve turned out the bedside light
I am far too weary for a flight
I see the art and love yet all’s awry
My nightmare comes to bed, oh heck,oh might
Can you tell me more about my sight?
I seem no longer to get eggs to fry
Before I have put on the bedside light
The Hebrew letters make my heart turn white
Denoting both infinities not pi
The nightmare re-occurs, obnoxious site
Then its almost Grecian at its height
The tragedy of theatre, does that lie?
Forget about the bed and its gold light
The cat bemoans it’s eyelessness and sighs
We’re not in Gaza yet but don’t say die!
My nightmare lives in bed but I shall write
After I’ve turned on my little light
Macaroni Bees
Breaded Wasps
Buried Eggs with Rice
Brawn Kissotto
Dickens’ Pate
Keys Lorraine and Cremated Slices
Egg Valid with Dressing
Roast Leaf and Yorkshire Padding with Roasted Donators and Doubts
Toast Lamb and Tinted Horse
Desserts
Mustard Tarts with Single Dream
Lemon Twice
Strawberry Eyes
Apple Stumblings with Birds “Custard
Manila Ice Steamed
Sponge with Fairy Liquid
Jam Hearts with artificial ices
Mince Hearts solo
Any heart scream
All served with pot of tea and plate of lead and stutter
Drinks
Freak Coffee served all day
Water in river
Beer by cans
Fancy Tea extra
Use our free bathroom.You will need it
Starters
Chicken’s tongue on crumpet
Jellied wheels.
Tomato and chess salad
Eggs on sliced rubber genes
Halibut’s eyes on white sliced bread plus buttons
Mains
Wild pigeon with black worried sauce
Roast dead hen with drum roll
Molluscs reviled with spasms of sliced red onion
Vegetarian rather chilly,offers open.
Cow’s heels a la mock turtle with potato scrumplings
Hot dark brown wolf pudding with flesh tripe
Puddings
Lemon mice
Errings with thick yellow cream
Chocolate black-mange
Oranges with bitter peel and cream teeth
Apple and Bloomsbury Tarts with ices.
Treacle hearts.
Steamed sponges with soap
Icy marmalade cake plus my wife baked
My husband was so kind.He ate his dinner from the cat’s dish and let the cat eat with me.The fashion forward women walk by me
I can see what I don’t want to see
Their leggings cling audaciously and close
I ask for mercy from the Holy Ghost
Now I fear I called erroneously
God won’t mind what organs all can see
If he wanted excess modesty
He’d have put it on the BBC
I guess it’s economic for no more
Can girls afford the dresses Eve once wore
Although I made some out of purple sheets
From Eden I arranged the Fall in pleats
I confess to stealing sewing bees
Now I suffer psychotherapy
Passing water into a small bottle for the doctor to have analysed is a task even the most brilliant find hard.Rosa was not even averagely brilliant amongst the brilliants of history like Plato,Aristotle ,Simone de Boredwoy or Blaze Rascal not to mention St Coal,.
She grabbed her mobile as a dying man at his wife’s hand and rang the cab service. she used now she was unable to see properly or ride her bike.
Hello,it’s Rosa Benchez here.Can a driver pick up my urine sample and take it to the surgery for me.Thank you so much.
No problem, the manager told her and soon afterwards a young man with dangling earrings arrived.She showed him the sample hidden inside a Sainsbury’s shopping bag.He looked puzzled but agreed on payment of £259.89
She realised she had not eaten any breakfast so decided to have an early lunch instead.As she ate her toasted cheese and snake oil she fell into a daydream.She was with her online man friend walking through a huge field of her favourite flowers,cyclamen.They were walking along companionably without holding hands but together whilst also being apart which was delightful.
This was agreeable since she had never met this very handsome man in the flesh.He was called XY Matrix although his parents had never studied algebra as far as historians can tell.Could it be a pseudonym?
Maybe he was being raised to be a mathematical prodigy but he became a writer and musician and managed to earn a good income.He had a beautiful detached house filled with antiques and ceramic lamps like Freud’ study.In fact he had copied that from historical photos and descriptions ; one day he hoped to become a therapist
Rosa and Fox as she called him got on well and shared a liking for poetry and music.Sometimes he had sent her music as attachments on his emails.He seemed to love Wagner and Britten which seemed a curious combination to the British woman.He loved Britten’s Donne’s Sonnets sung by the stunning tenor Ian Bostridge.
After lunch, Rosa opened her laptop.She found an email from Fox.
You have been here and broken all my windows and my bath is ruined, he wrote.I am moving house to get away from you.And I am having plastic windows.
Rosa was alarmed as it defied common sense.She did not know where his house was ; it was in another country.So she emailed him back,
What is wrong , dear? You only said 2 days ago that my poetry had helped your sick friend when you went to visit him in the hospital
Waiting anxiously for his answer, she sipped some coffee and looked at her friend Dolly walk by, dressed in a pink suede jacket and black linen culottes with unmatching red boots.
Where is Dolly going she wondered pensively ,feeling like a cloud floating over Rydal Water in the winter not knowing which way the wind might blow it
After two hours of utter silence, she decided to wait until the evening when she had put away the groceries and written a triolet or two.She was keen to do it before she lost the impetus
The whole evening went by so she emailed him again.But again he did not reply.
The next morning she found a letter on the doormat.
1,Rancour Villas
Horror Lane
Dumbtown
Dear Rosa
I thought you would be kind and gentle like your poetry but you have wounded me.
You asked me what date my dental appointment was which was an invasion of my privacy.
You also told me you would not mind if your son was gay whereas to me it is a sin to indulge those sick appetites and you should not encourage him
Signed XY M
A dental appointment? It’s not as if she had asked him if he had a sexually transmitted disease or whether he really believed in Jesus as his Saviour.Nor had she asked him if he liked to smoke cigars in bed nor if he let Lassie his sheepdog sleep on the bed and cuddle with him.For all she knew, the dog might be his partner or even his wife
She emailed him as she felt anxious in case he was having a breakdown.He replied, saying she was not who he thought and he was finished with her.
I wonder who he thought I was, she asked herself as she sat with tears in her eyes feeling concerned about what was really going on in his dear mind.
Her cat Lucy ran up and sat on the arm of the chair gazing frenziedly at her owner and mother
Don’t worry Lucy.I am sure I will soon be ok. This must be a mistake.I think he has got paranoia which gets worse and then better
Rosa looked on Amazon and found a book called
Kantor MD, Martin
It is a truth totally unacknowledged by human beings that Professor of Linguistics and Word Mismanagement Rosa Benchez hates her own name.It is for this reason, she is keen to get married.Unfortunately ,her only suitor is Charlie Blogge. the well known TV biology expert
Does Rosa Blogge sound any better, she asked her friend Amy Panicker.
I find it hard to judge ,Amy answered. Ar least it’s not Bloggess. But there is another answer.
Rosa and her cat Lucy looked up expectantly.
Go on tell us!
Change your first name.Have you got any other name besides Rosa? Don’t say Wooden or Iron,I beg you.
Rosa looked surprised.
In a way that is harder emotionally,she began, because that’s what all my friends and family call me
They must have been dim to call you Rosa, Amy cried.
Don’t say that.Who wants to be compared to a light bulb?
Well ,who wants to be compared to rows of benches? Amy retorted.
Well. grandad was called I.Ron Benchez. Rosa shouted.He was from the USA.
Thank God ,he is not the President,Amy smiled
I think that is stupid.The name of the person has no bearing on how they can lead a government.
Well,how about Trump? Is it a real name or did they pick it from knowing the word trump from card games,Amy asked quietly
I have no idea,said Rosa.I shall look it up now
Wow, you have a new iPhone!
Charlie gave it to me,Rosa confessed shyly, blushing dark pink
You had better check whether he is tracking you, Amy told her anxiously.You never know what men will do nowadays.
But can’t you track folk on Samsungs or Nokia Lumias? said Rosa in her mellow voice.
I don’t think it is very romantic to give a lady a smartphone instead of some jewellery,Amy cried.
You can sell jewellery but who wants a second-hand iPhone.
As a matter of fact ,some old Nokias from the 90’s are now worth a few hundred pounds
So if you have one keep it unless your home is already overflowing with collections of pens,watches old newspapers and cats like my friend Percival’s, Rosa retorted.
Percival? what is his last name?
Joyce.Rosa whispered.He is related to the writer James Joyce.
Rosa Joyce…. how does that sound?
Well as you know any word you keep repeating begins to sound odd and the same is true of names.Even the nicest name like Katherine With-Doubt begins to sound odd when delivery men ask you for it.
Are you with doubt? one had asked her, she told me
Who is without doubt? she had replied courteously.
Who indeed said the clever Polish doctor working in the UK delivering stuff for Amazing,dot com.He lives round the corner: Thom Without-Doubt
Thank God you are not called that.
Amy asked Rosa if she could make a pot of tea.They sat in the old orange walled kitchen eating cream crackers and cheese and sipping hot tea.
Lucy was eating some cat biscuits and suddenly had a good idea
Why don’t you and I swap names, she mewed to Rosa with a loving smile.
Do you know,said Rosa, I am so fed up with names I shall change mine to a number if we carry on like this
Do you think 678 Benches sounds any better,giggled Amy.
I was thinking more of a name like Platonic form or pyramid
How does Platonic Benchez sound. Or Platonic Blogge?
And so ask all of us.
My lover went to Lapland for he found my love too warm
You porcupine, he hollered out, I prefer a seal
Are you sure.I questioned him, for I did not wish him harm
I need to get away from you, I want a conger eel.
He set off in his brand new car, the ferry was quite late
He was a little angry but drink gave him false calm
He got talking to a mermaid and now she is his mate
She lives deep in the icy sea and he loves her frigid arms
I don’t know how you would feel, if after twenty years
Of being called a porcupine, when swaddled iin his arms
Your lover found the Northern Pole, and left you only tears
At least I can enjoy my bed without his wild alarms
The melody is not the words but how they are combined
I have lost all faith in men , unless their names form rhymes
I know we have got clocks today but meter bends the time.
Like dancing bends the entire space of humans ,rapt, sublime
I saw the spirit slip into the hall
Behind a nasty woman,blonde and loud
Black its look , it danced through our front door
It was the time foreseen and yet I ached
As I laboured under heavy clouds
I saw the spirit slip into the hall
Where did it hide,up high, or under floor?
Certain of succcess, a daemon proud
Black as ink it danced through our front door
A cup of tea and peace, does that appal?
Extinction is assured, it is allowed
I saw the spirit slip into the hall
Life’s not ours and wishes don’t endure
The living human heart to this must bow
Black as midnight, dancing through the door
Yet his death will not my spirit cow
He fell to dust to dance in sunlight now
I saw the darkness entering, allured
Black and slight it danced proud and assured
Postmodernism’s the fashion ne’er manque.
We must study Foucault and his scribes.
Get reason trapped and do not court delay.
You need to find your intellectual tribe.
Where is the goose which laid the golden egg..
Invented meta-talk and fairy tales?
Which narrative is balanced on a peg?
Which philosopher was re-homed by a whale?
Where is the whole truth and nothing but?
Whose the eye which sees reality?
Who‘s the judge who makes the final cut?
Where is the God to whom we owed fealty?
Now nothing is what anyone can say.
I understand it’s meaningless to pray
She stared at me and knitted her wits
Am I an idiolect, she asked?
Wit is something nits don’t bother about
Can you prove it?
I can prove pi is not rational
That is irreverent
We’re not ex or in Cathedra
Her wits wilted visibly
You ought to stop knitting your brows
But do I have free will?
Nothing is free now.
How about zero?
That’s a concept?
Is it first a percept?
The immaculate perception!
That’s what we need,real, indepth perception otherwise conception is an utter folly
I think I agree
I agree you think
But do you?
I must or I would not answer
But do you feel real only because of your mind?
I never thought about that before.I feel real because I am with you or other friends
Yet we must take them in and let them live inside us
Do they give us indigestion?
Maybe diarrhea?
Can we bear to hold them gently?
It depends who they are!
Well, the best idea is to do everything very slowly. Then you don’t choke.
Can they only get in through our mouth?
These are metaphors
I guessed!
Please set alight as soon as your pen is working and you find the japer
Be Misrael in a Blair Tee.
Don’t keep me banging on like this, whenever, I am ad hoc again.
Do I talk too Dutch?Please shell me.
My, the Samaritans have back up.TheWaqf.
Am I too tight for you? It’s my brains.
Are you still bare? I am.
Are you overcrafted? No aitch.
The Open University offered me a tub once.
Are you still arrive yet? Me neither.
I was a very intelligent dunce.So follow my selections.
I used to teach wrath at Oxford when I was a splongeur.
Does my sign put you down? I am sorry, fate.
I am missing you so dutch.Why won’t you perceive me?
I’ll deceive you whenever you wish.
Do sponsor my phone balls, please.
My electricity is surprising
I paid a huge bill, last streak.
They keep frisking me; I am pure.Well,sort if.
Why is money so cunning?
I have forgotten my PIN jumbles again for all my credit yards.Am I in a bauble now?
I am sorry. I got married away.Twice.
Where will it haul wend…?
Was sin ever original?
Nobody believes in sin any bore.It’s No, Satan
Who relieves God?
Come to the Tempus with me,fugit?
My lover went to Lapland as he found me rather warm
You porcupine, he shouted out, I prefer a seal
Are you sure.I questioned him, for I did not wish him harm
I have to get away from you, I prefer my conger eel.
He set off in his motor car, the ferry was quite late
He was a little angry then but soon he became calm
He got talking to a mermaid and now she is his mate
She lives deep in the icy sea and he loves her frigid arms
I don’t know how you would feel, if after twenty years
Of being called a porcupine, when swaddled iin his arms
Your lover went to the North Pole, and left you only tears
At least I can enjoy my bed without his wild alarms
The melody is not the words but how they are combined
I have lost all faith in men , unless their names form rhymes
I know we have got clocks today but meter bends the time.
As dancing bends the space around the movers rapt, sublime
Shall I compare thee to a bird of prey
Thou art more cruel but hide it very well
And if perchance thou now find thou art gay
Meet men now down in the fairy’s glen.
I know not how to paint thy long pale face
The hair so thin, she colour of despair
Thou lookest like a Tudor in disgrace
That once was sturdy,strong and very fair
And thy demeanor puzzleth me so much
Thou wert raised with manners of a prince
Why eat roast pig while thou art in church?
Even holy bread is seen to wince.
Depart from me,ye green eyed coward and liar
I threw thy missives into my bright fire.
Dear God,
Decide with me>You see the evil minds
The darkness weeps; bairns in me confide
When mother’s helpers fail and contort glee,
Smoke all the kippers and open up for me.
Drafts blew off my clothes and cinders lburned the day;
Earth’s toys grow thin; its stories passive,grey.
Change and replay is all around for free
O Thou who changest notes, save some notes for me.
Come not with bull terriers, nor as the king with wings
But underwrite the good, with healing and new strings,
Tears for wholesome souls, new heart for every bee
Come to lines of sinners, and be derided by a flea
Thou on my shed in early youth laid tiles
And, though it seems ridiculous we’ve reversed them all meanwhile,
Thou hast not written me, as oft as I ‘ve written Thee,
Yours sincerely, Lord,
Kate and her house bee
PS Please write to answer me
Kindness wins the plea.
You know, I think I want to go to church again and I must go to Confession before I go to Mass.But the trouble is that when you have no partner your opportunities for committing sins are greatly reduced.Especially if you don’t go out much
You can’t have a row with them about what TV programme to watch or which side of the bed you sleep on nor about whether they pull the duvet off you in the middle of the night.So you can’t blame them when you feel tired.
You can’t get angry when they ask you to wash their trousers again either or about them wearing a cashmere sweater in bed.Also you see less of their relatives and they were always good for producing sins like envy, rage, jealousy and so on.In fact their relatives change and become saintly so it’s even worse.I suppose that might make me sin.
It’s really hard, though, to commit a sin now so I am wondering if I should get a partner purely for the purpose of becoming a sinner who can them be saved by the Sacrament of Confession.I always thought it was odd because if God exists he must know our sins.. in fact he might know more than we do.He must.
With that in mind, I wonder about going into therapy as surely that would make me aware of all the questionable things I have done.Which is better: therapy or getting married? I suppose if I married a rich person they could pay for psychoanalysis for me but it would be a sin to marry purely for that reason.Is that Russell’s Paradox?
Or if I got 2 cats I could be unkind to them and not let them sleep on my bed.But I have to admit I cannot be unkind to cats.And I don’t like dogs in the house.Too much work.You might as well get married again as have a dog to care for.Although dogs don’t wear clothes and can’t shout and scream and demand sex at 3 am.Barking is not quite the same
.I suppose I could become a Quaker instead because it might be tough to find a husband who is happy for me to study Wittgestein and Sylvia’s Wrath.My hair is no longer what it was.. my eyes are still blue but now I have a scar on my face.I thought maybe no-one would notice but the dentist said,
Wow, he’s done a great job hasn’t he? Fantastic, there’s just a little lump here…. what little lump? She’ll have me back in Dermatology as soon as take my teeth out.It was a little lump that began the whole damn business as it was a bit like a Russian Vine invisibly covering [ part of ] my face.Well I can proudly say I had 23 injections of local anaesthetic in my face but the surgeon was very handsome.Greek…
Anyway I went out today with no sun cream on and that is really wicked when you’ve had what I had but the hypothalamus gland needs sunlight so my brother tells me.I have three brothers plus my aide P so I have plenty of men to tell me what to do or not to do.Still you can’t marry your brother can you? I wonder what the priest would say about that.I rest my case.By gum, it was heavy.I’ll take to drink
Pray, Father,I give you my blessing
That’s the wrong way round.Never mind,Tell me your original sins.
We don’t have to confess those surely.We are born like that.
I mean I am fed up with boring sins like theft and swearing.
I don’t know if I can think if any sin except I bought my husband some soap called Allure.If it does allure he might be unfaithful and it will be my fault.
Don’t worry about the future.At least he will smell nice in bed.You should get Chanel Number 5
It might confuse the cat in bed.
Why, do you make love to the cat?
No, but the cat sits on top when we do it.
So what’s the problem?
If the cat hates Chanel Number 5 he might leave the room and love without the cat is not what we are used to
But it’s not a sin!
Oh dear.I can’t think of anything else.
You must try harder
Do you mean to remember sins or to commit more?
Whatever,it gets really boring in here.
Would Jesus say that?
He didn’t speak English.
Won’t he have learned in heaven?
I know on earth everyone online must know English but they have no Internet in heaven.
How can you prove that?
Heaven was there before it was invented
So was England!
I see what you mean.But if they had the internet it would make them sad to see us being so cruel to the vulnerable.
But only if they knew English!
Well for your penance write to the Council and ask for unisex lavatories.
I thought they were all the same except some have differet handles.
I mean that there will be just lots of loos for all races,sexes and genders.You won’t have to prove your are biologically man or woman.
OK,Father and I will keep a diary of my sins online
Will it allow comments
I’ll have to see how I feel.
You feel nice to me.
How do you know?
Because I am your cat.
How did you get in there?
The priest is in love with me!
I DON’T BELIEVE IT!
My husband had never looked less livid
As he died down in old A and E.
His colour was vivid
His hair was all withered
He cried,Where the hell do I be?
I said,you’re in bed with a lady
So I’ll arrange for a speedy divorce.
You’ll have to hurry,
If you wish to re-marry.
If needs be, I shall use polite force.
He winked at me solemn as Moses
After wandering the Sinai for years.
He said,Dear I love you
There’ no lady above you
Don’t spend too much on my hearse.
Would you like me to marry my lover?
He’s gone cold waiting out in the shed!
He said,don’t ask me yet for
My mood’s on a see -saw
Take whom you like when you wed.
But first give me a nice service
Sing Pie Jesu for me!
Your voice is so sweet
It shall be my last treat.
Oh,Lord,how I deeply love thee.
I said that is very ambiguous
Do you love me best or Jesu?
He said I love both
Yet I love God the most.
So there’s not very much I can do.
He imitated a dying philanderer.
.But alas it was only too real.
My hand on his nose
Almost gave up the ghost.
It froze and it stuck like a seal.
Oh,doctor can you separate us
For I am not yet quite dead?
My only concern
Is to take a short turn
As my boyfriend is alone in the shed.
You sinner,the doctor said to me
You committed adultery twice.
Well,I had to be kind
My boyfriend’s half blind.
Is that an excuse for my vice?
I didn’t want love in the garden
As we might have frightened a snail.
It’s not quite infidelity
To love a man gently
When your husband’s as dead as a nail.
Anyway,my heart is no longer alive,doc
In the shadow of death ,life is weak
I pretended to be wicked
As my husband often bickered
Diabetics make their carers feel bleak.
I see you were lost in fantasia,
While singing the psalms to your spouse.
I shall forgive you
No-one else lives like you.
You have often kept your wedding vows.
What do you mean saying often?
He’s the only man I’ve ever loved.
For his sense of humour
Cleared out all my gloomour
I called him my chicken,my dove.
The force of procreation is violent
And drives lonely women to bed.
God made us like this
As he made grass snakes hiss.
Upon hearing this the doc fled!
The sun looked angry when the dawn was due;
Its red more fiery,deepening scarlet hue.
The birds were singing though my heart loved Hugh.
All in all, I don’t know what to do.
The clouds betrayed the sun by turning grey.
Well, in winter, who on earth makes hay?
The sun shone brighter as the earth it flayed
I can sell my soul for money on Ebay.
The sun then disappeared to plot
How it can give us acne like a shot.
And make our skin peel like potatoes hot
All in all, I think I’ll tee a pot.
Now the sun has set, the sky is mauve
Tall trees stand gravely in their gentle grove.
Where lovers meet and discuss when to rove
As for me, what woman is betrothed?
The sun looked calmer as the day faded
It is now more deep sea green than it is red
The birds are singing , seems they’re feeling glad.
As for me,well better wed than dead!
I flindered lobely as a blouse
That sleats on high o’er biles and phrills,
When at a seance I saw a fowl
The ghost, of hilden waffotills;
Depide the blike, Coneath the blees,
Pluttering and strancing in the frieze
Conpentred as the hores did pont
And swondleon the mokiway,
They briched in never-blinding stine
Along the gargins wovt a rey:
Ten thousand jaw, I ater a flounce,
Wessing their shids in glightly spance.
The Daves deside them panced but loy
Out-did the sparkling waves in schlee
A waite could not clutt ie glay
In juch a ferund timpanee:
I glazed- and jazed- but little ploat
What gealthy wasps shrew thlee had cloght:
For poft, when on my louch i pi
In racane or in trensive slood,
They flush upon that innard plie
Rich is the blass of molitude;
And then my tart with leisured gills:
Fish dancing with the daffodils
Happy New Leer
Hippy New Flair
Happy, Loo near!
Aptly New Here.
Hoppy knew Fear
Happy New Beer
Happy with Lear?
Snappy New Year
Cherry Xmas
Very Xmas to view.
Make the post of it.
Hope to flee you soon.
Sorry I’ve not been in much.
Sorry not to sweep my promises.
Sorry I didn’t come but you didn’t either.
We must beat this year.
Let’s get together.Amen.
I’ll see you at the Creator.
I didn’t employ the cow we had.
The virgin Mary assumed it was heaven.
Jesus had no socks.
St Paul had a fit on the road to Erasmus.
St Peter portrayed Christ thrice.
St Peter tried to hawk the water.
St John had a Word to offer.
The Jews are God’s people because they saw the Burning Bush before we did.I only felt it.
Prophets were turned into profits by Economists.
The Pope is advised by a neon Arc Angel.
Jesus had twelve friends on Facebook.The pages were called the Epistles.
St Paul was so prolific he sent letters whenever he fancied it.That was before privatisation of the Toil Mail,of course.
The Romans were good at conkers and watching lions eat people.
The Cirque du Trialle.
History is what we can find on old documents and barcodes.
God wanted his son to die.It was pre-Oedipus.They could not both louvre the same lady
And she said,may your thrill begin on earth as it does in heaven
My friend told me if I wanted to get married again I should not tell the men I meet I was a mathematician.So I’ll have to stop saying :I am 5/8 Irish and 1/3 Anglo-Saxon and 1/48 Viking.
That doesn’t add up to one.
I never said I was an integer!
If you give too much detail it puts them off.
How about :I am 38-28-40?
Is that your Zip code?
No, it’s my vital statistics.
I should wait till you know them better.
When will that be?
After you get the diamond ring.And stop using numbers so much use words. Hang on:Hello, this is 07576339417.Hi.
That’s a funny phone number.
It was the police.
How come they have your number?
I think it’s because I told them you wanted to re-marry
Why tell the police, it’s not a crime.
I thought they might give you a job.
Why do I want a job?
To stop you getting married again.
But there are men in the police station.
You can’t marry them
Why not?
They are only coppers!
I’m so sensitive ,I get people fatigue even when I am by myself.~
I’m so sensitive,I can hear other people’s hearts beating .It gives me palpitations.
I was so precocious I spoke before I could talk.
I am so attractive I have to wear a veil and cloak to keep men away
I love unattainable people as true intimacy is wearing.
I love myself because I need all the love I can get.
I am so frightened of being trapped under a dryer I cut my hair off with the dressmaking scissors.Now it just needs a wash and breeze dry..
I did a test for autism.I heard I am off the spectrum.Why is it finite?
I’m not easily insulted as I feel a sense of deep shame all the time.
I envy those with rubber skins.I’ll come back as a shark or a whale
I’m so tentative I keep waiting for others to make the first move,whatever that is.
http://pubs.usgs.gov/gip/dynamic/tectonic.html
Were the Ammonites a people or a stone?
Was the government of fossils on the roam?
Were the rocks and mountains rumbling
As the government were stumbling?
I’ve sent my resignation on a bone.
Was the Earthquake sent by demons or mischance?
Were the stolen dinners appetising once?
Were the plates of this old earth
Asking what is human worth?
Was it you who sold my poems by mischance?
Do we set the table with tectonic plates?
In New Zealand, do men call each other, mate?
Did we eat with silver cutlery
To show the world our subtlety?
I bear in mind that I could navigate.
We’ll be sitting down to dinner with the men.
We’ll be grateful as a sinner is,Amen.
We’ll gladly serve our sentences
And weep to show repentance.
Then we’ll set off nuclear dynamite again
How my heart sings 