Dr Adams was a very kind man

He never fried sprats when they were soaked in jam

He apologised to the loaf when he cut the bread

And he wept many tears when his ants were found half dead..

He was enamoured of spiders because he liked their webs

And even let them build one between his middle ribs.

He loved his wife and allowed her to be free

So she met a jolly sailor and they went out to sea.

Suddenly he realised, altruism’s bad

Unless it’s given to those who really are quite sad.

So he made a resolution to be a bit more stern

And gave up putting dinner out for the earthworms.

He met a kind fair lady and he began to hope

She would marry him and raise some antelopes.

He said she must be free but not quite totally;

Loving other men was not permitted,don’t you see?

Some folk can live with a marriage and affairs

Some men even keep many concubines and bears.

But he and his new lady decided to be chaste

As loving any other folk was a sorry waste..

They had many off spring of whom I am one

I look like the pussy cat when all is said and done..

And I like being groomed and sitting on folks’ knees

Think whate’er you like but it’s fun running up trees.

My father was black and my mother is white

So I am rather grey ,except in a good light.

I have many patches in different shades of grey

I only wish my whiskers didn’t look like hay.

I am hoping to marry when the corn and barley’s ripe

Oh,what fun we’ll have in the middle of the night.

The ghosts of failures past make tears flow down
They run inside the wrinkles of my skin
The faces of the old and ravaged ones.

The child teased by her foreign accent frowns.
Does she have the strength of mind within?
The ghost of failure now makes tears flow down

We thought the old were wiser, never conned.
Yet we ourselves feel bombed by thinner skin.
Our faces old and ravaged, tortured ones.

For the poor in money, loss abounds
They blame themselves, they did not ever win
The ghost of failure past makes tears flow down

The poor in spirit to their Lord will run
Is this world of terror caused by sin?
Their sorry faces traumatised, undone

The crucifix will be uncrossed again.
The Holocaust in nuclear fires may come
The salt of failure’s cost make tears run on
The faces of the living, savaged ones

The cyclamen, the lily and the earth
The potted plants ,green leaves , distil the air
The lily is for peace. the rose for worth

Let no human live in pain or cursed
Let the golden light en-wrap them here
The cyclamen, the lily and the earth

The waxy flowers of cyclamen bring mirth
Bring gratitude in winter when all’s bare
The lily is for peace. the rose for worth

I feel my hands are reaching for a brush
The watercolour paints bring their allure
The cyclamen, the lily and the earth

Then I see a flower trod on and crushed
It seems to bleed like Jesus,tears my eye.
The lily is for peace. the rose for worth

Nature has its truth and so do I
Many times I weep, bewail and cry
The cyclamen, the lily and the earth
The lily is for peace. the rose for birth

https://www.loveliveson.com/funny-obituaries/

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2023/apr/12/the-trauma-doctor-gabor-mate-on-happiness-hope-and-how-to-heal-our-deepest-wounds

The patient is alive but without any signs

Her husband asked me to help him to get her pregnant. I’ve made them an appointments for tomorrow. Could you help?

She said that the marriage had never been consecrated. She is still an illegal virgin.

She was very hot in the living room but much cooler in bed her husband tells me

He said my temperature was 38.8 centigrade and I had to try harder to help myself. This morning I got up to 39 but feeling much worse. Is there any other treatment?

He came to the hospital with a broken toe but caught covid in the waiting room and died this morning as soon as we found a bed for him. It’s wrong to keep people waiting like that and expect them to die on a trolly.

The patient seems to be alive but is unwilling to give up his bed and go to work on an egg

He was deceived using a donated egg. Will it work with a shop-bought one?

He thought mobile phones would have legs but they’re too smart for that.

What does the train do when it gets to the end of the line?

The discontent of Britons turns to hate.

It’s hell for many, for others it’s too late.

No eggs for children’s meals, no milk and cheese.

Worn out nurses see their pay decrease.

The paramedics angered by misuse

Are met at times with physical abuse

Imagination wilts is crucified.

Without an ambulance some people die

What Carers do for love cannot be asked

Workers must be paid for arduous tasks

If if people die this day who is to blame?

The government must answer this complaint

They want to x-ray God to check his age

But God is here and there and everywhere.

He only had one child so he will swear

The British are annoyed in fact outraged

They think he wants to claim a child’s allowance

God was not born here ,oh refugee

God was never born can they not see ?

Send Bravermann to jail, she must do penance

Jesus died in Auschwitz more than once

Don’t let him come in here we have no room

We have no stables now, his birth is doomed.

The Stations of the Cross are undispensed.

Will they make failed immigrants wear stars

Here we’ve got bad eggs, let’s make a start

Hurl the eggs towards their bleeding hearts

Then get drunk again in some old bar.

They say the country is Christian by and large

So that they send religious cards.

And Satan pokes the fire burns all x-rays

The MRI scans now are all the rage.

Scan them x-ray put them into boats

The evil fires are hot, our eyes are closed

O’Meara you’re a clucking front Cram your lies, the bloggers hunt

Top your horse the egg is wide

Your juggling mug annoys the bride.

How I hate your dirty smut.

Tell the devil he’s a duck

As for men I hate their wicks

The candle earns, a floor can’t stick.

Henry Mary what’s your game?

I wink you’re Astrid, when did you lose aim

What do we call people who drink blood?

Catholics

I said to the psychiatrist if I ate Jesus Christ this morning what would you call me?

Greedy

Should I take holy communion under both kinds?

Only when it’s raining

I’m supposed to go to confession on Saturday but I’ve done nothing wrong. So I’m going to miss Mass on Sunday.

And confession on Monday?

What is the purpose of rosary beads?

The end oesn’t justify the means

Why do Catholics worship statues?

Because they are very humble

Why can’t Catholics limit their families size?

Because there is no limit to their love.

Why can’t a Catholic be The King of England?

Because we aren’t allowed to go into Westminster Abbey during a service

Why can’t Catholics be cremated?

Because the price of coal is too high.

Do Jews fear Christians?

Do hens lay eggs?

Mary had made a Christmas cake with marzipan but no white sugar icing.Stan was diabetic so she had opted for a middle way.Like some Zen Buddhists.You don’t either cut it completely nor have a 6-inch layer of icing.No, you find a middle way.Like 5 inches of icing!
Mary like almonds so she went for marzipan with her home ground almonds and some sugar.The raw egg part was worrying but so far nobody had died after eating her cake.Still if you are dying, enjoy the cake while you can!
Annie arrived for a cup of coffee.
Wow, that cake is large.You will get fat if you eat it
I am not planning to eat it all myself, Mary said merrily.
In fact, if I could find a way of cutting an infinitesimally small piece I could have one every day forever.
Would the cake not shrink ?asked Annie with a puzzled smile
No, because a real number times an infinitesimal is itself infinitesimal Mary answered.
So it must be zero, Annie decided.
No, said Mary.All of the calculus is based on the idea that they are not zero.Then, at the end, we pretend they are zero and cross them out.It’s like magic or sleight of hand
I thought maths was logic, Annie said in an angry voice, tossing her purple hair over her shoulder.Alas, it was a wig so it fell off and Emile the little cat, bit it!
Gosh, Annie why are you wearing a wig? Mary asked.
I am involved with a Jewish man so he won’t make love unless I wear a wig.
Surely if he is Orthodox he should not sleep with you unless you get married.
We can’t get married, Annie said boldly.
Why not?
He is already married….Annie muttered
Well, that seems wrong.
What, being married?
No having an affair.I know Stan is old.Can’t you find a single man?
Women can’t go running after men.Men enjoy the chase.They despise women who run after them.
Well, can’t you ask them if they are married?
No, it seems too cheeky, Annie smiled.Anyway, in fuzzy logic you are not either married or single.You are married to the extent of some decimal number in between 0 and 1
Some folk are 0.999 married and some are 0.34 married.Others 0.1
But who measures it? God ? It’s not much use.
You have to guess, said Annie.I like Jewish men
How many do you know, Mary asked.
Three, said Annie triumphantly.
You can’t generalise from three, Mary said.
If I test a larger sample I shall never get to find one till I am 99, Annie wept.
Think of the fun, though, Mary said teasingly.And you’d have to travel a lot as many live in the USA, France and other places including Israel.How do you fancy Bibi Netanyahu?He is married actually!
Annie was silent, then burst out: life is not science nor technology.It’s an art like watercolour painting.Why do you call him Bibi? Do you know him?
Not biblically, Mary said humorously.I’ve never even met him.He’s just been in the News more because of Trumpelstiltschein
Does Bibi know Donald is half German?
No, but the Queen is too.
Where does that take us logically?
Off to Boots to buy some expensive makeup and then to have a manicure and tea in a cafe
If only politicians did this life would be much easier and kinder.
And so say all of us!

So why are you eating that layered chocolate icecream,Mary,asked Annie her dear neighbour charmingly attired in a light purple skirt and blue silk top with butterflies embroidered round the neckline and hips covered by a silk dressing gown in light orange
Well, it’s a rather a strange story;it all began when Sainsburys had no slots for delivery
That’s not very interesting,said Annie foolishly
It is to me, Mary muttered plaintively.I wondered if there was anywhere else to get milk and bread delivered as my neighbours were not so keen to get my last prescription
Why, was it for heroin? Annie teased her, her smiling face ruined by a too pale foundation by Hercules of Paris and Dalmatia with crimson lipstick from Boots adorning her wrinkled lips.She looked ready to star in Death in Venice
No it was for cystitis, Mary cried.Anyhow I went on to Deliveroo and they have a store that sells food from Marks and Spencers.Only a limited range, of course
Mary’s oval face flushed with a pink glow and her singular blue eyes flashed like imitation diamonds at sunset in Weston -super-Mare
In contrast she was wearing a heather tweed skirt and jumper of pure new wool
And her green trainers and matching tights
But they had no milk so I continued with them on to Morrisons who again have a small selection
of food and drink
In half an hour they were at the door and all was well
Then one word came to my mind
What was it, Annie asked her nervously, her fingers twisting her newly washed her into ringlets so fast it looked as if she was destroying the roots
Eggs,Eggs! They had no eggs,Mary confided.
Have you none left?
Yes but Emile fell off the window sill onto the work surface and crushed them all
Do you believe it was an accident? Cats have been known to suck eggs,Annie whispered
Wow,I didn’t know that, Emile miaowed furtively
Stay away from my eggs,Mary scolded him.Lay your own.I wish I could
So naturally I went to Deliveroo where the local Coop was selling food
I got eggs,crumpets, marmalade and then I noticed they sold icecream.Chocolate icecream.
You never eat it.Annie told her
But I like it, so I thought,I’ll just get one as it is Easter
Well, the man came to the door and I saw he had a very small bag
I took it and it said, “sorry, we have no eggs so we have sent 6 icecreams”
That is illogical ,said Annie.You can’t bake icecream nor eat it boiled with toast
So then I thought I”ll either fly into a rage or I will eat the icecream
Then tomorrow I will phone them and say, those eggs you sent were off
I have been sick all night.I want a refund
This is not like you,Mary, her friend said.You don’t cheat and tell lies
Not up till now but we have to change.Not just ethically but also
we have to curse and swear
Your fecking eggs were off.
But Annie shouted: they will say
We don’t sell fecking eggs we only have pickled eggs
Then I will shout: pickle off cried Mary
That icecream has made you go crazy,Mary.,Annie informed her
Am I schizophrenic? Mary asked politely
Not yet but Emile might be if you carry on
I’ll make us some lovely PG Tips Tea, that will restore our sanity
And make some for all of us

The freezing gales of life have skinned my heart

Each little knife now stabs me like a sword.

Would that grief now soon from me depart

But feelings last much longer than do words

My heart needs comfort in these icy winds

People hurry past and do not see

Alas to strangers we are most unkind

Impatient friends won’t spend much time with me.

We need words but we need touch and care.

I need to see your face to read your eye

Have pity on me, Lord, for I am bare

Why am I here, why should I plead and cry?

Yet time will pass and I will feel secure

From the  fearsome cruelty  now so near

Guide me through the cruel sea I fear

– I’m reading “Our Needs for Others and Its Roots in Infancy” by Josephine Klein and wanted to share this quote with you.

“For we can be sure that we have the seeds of the goodness and strength we need, hidden and repressed or split-off though they may be. Locked in our memory are traces of the experiences which enabled us to survive. We know that this is so because we have in fact survived. We did not die. At least the minimum goodness was there, and just enough strength, at least. We are already possessed of what we need, if we can but get to it. ‘Oh joy! that in our embers  Is something that doth live,  That nature yet remembers  What was so fugitive! The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed”

(William Wordsworth, Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childho

————–

Photo by my  dear sister Eileen

If only cats could talk I’d be content,
For conversation is my sanity and friend.
I’d marry one as soon as he’d consent

On reflection, would a cat repent
If he  told the police I’d killed ten hens
If only cats could talk I’d be content

Wittgenstein would never comprehend
That cats  and women spoke a common tongue
I’d marry one as soon as he’d consent

Would a cat  be master and demand
To see each bill and say I’d paid it wrong
If only cats could talk I’d be content

He could take my name without dissent
I guess he would not mind it being long
I’d marry one as soon as he’d consent

And I’d prefer his purr to any song
He could sleep  and I could make blancmange
If only cats could talk I’d be content,
I’d marry one as soon as he’d consent

 

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Woke

Archimedes’ pocket calculator in working order
Cleopatra’s nightie [washed and ironed]
Aristotle’s chair with footstool and TV remote
Abraham’s hat [unworn]
Isaac’s laughter [ CD]
Euclid’s ruler [plastic]
Zeno’s hair [combed]
Ten live Greek tortoises with name tags.
Book of Numbers [ In Hebrew]
Fifty limericks and Wordsworth’s hair [1 only

Job’s watch (automatics

Isaac’s belt

Eve’s best apron

Eve’s halogen hob (new,other)

Job’s hanky.

Adam’s apple

Recipes from the Biblem

S

They gave me a small watch on Xmas Day
But with any watch a little child can’t play
I envied both my sisters with new dolls
As on the old settee the dolls were lulled

I stood there uncomprehending and alone
Had I reached unknowing a milestone?
Then my sister lent me one of hers
I broke that little head upon my chair

I was holding her with tenderness
Scarcely breathing in my velvet dress
So I sat down to rock my babe awhile
The horror of her cracking head was vile

Now I play with numbers and with words
And look back sadly at that little girl

Oh,horticultural college, you have charm
To grey old souls your roses are a balm
But if I need a stimulant
To Tottenham Hotspurs I’ll be sent
To see the players break each other’s arms”

O gardens fair ,O trees with bark that gleams
O roses red, your scent awakes our dreams
But if my brain needs livening up
I’ll burn the ordnance survey map
And wander round the garden as I beam

O cafeteria , what a terrace fair
While others eat I chew my straggly hair
But when my sister takes a snap
She makes two frogs sit on my lap
She’s so creative, she has gentle flair

Oh,horticulture is a lovesome art
Which gives us flowers with which to decorate
But once a week
We have a peek
And see old men who’re eating mulberry tarts

Oh,rapidly the summer darts away
So we must enjoy a flower while it’s here
Otherwise ,it’s tea and cake
Which Mary Berry now dictates
The main thing is to love cake without fear

My sister oh my sister do not die

I feel that I still need you in my world

And Rivington we saw the larks upfly

Anglezarke the reservoir still swirled

Fresh water for old Liverpool’s

supply

I cannot go to Rivington alone

Nor Scotchmans Stump to see birds little bones

Once we lit a fire by a stream.

I’d like to go there now my love my queen.

Sturdy and determined she would climb.

Take the bus to Horwich it’s nearby

We saw ripe elderberries full and fine

In the distance Winter Hill stood high

The highest hill about so high austere

I won’t take you there sweet Eileen dear

Distracting thoughts harass my heart and mind.

Like gnats that dance on ponds in bright sunshine

In the deeper waters there are fish.

How to tempt them to my little dish?

The gossips have no wisdom, they are fools.

Idle thoughts are idle, they misrule

Do not converse with your own idle thoughts

Wait in peace for wisdom has a heart

Gossip has a function in a street.

Gives us bored old folk sweet meats.

Do not introduce your careless hate.

As ,hidden in the Shadows, Satan waits

Quietly drowning in the rivers deep

The inner guide will help you dream to sleep.

Shedding tears there’s nothing much to say

Everybody dies in their own way

While we’re healthy we can bawl and shout

Serious illness makes us feel afraid

Conscious of the messes we have made

Remember birthdays and the bag of cards

When they’ve died it feels so cruel so hard.

We like to think we’ve got a chance for Grace

We cant know the time of death or place

Our house is for sale it looks so small.

The vestibule has gone there is a hall

I can’t believe the other people dwell

In a place that we lived in so well

We had no inside toilet we felt cold

Menstruation bleeding we were bold

So we look at photographs with care

But still we see no toilet anywhere

The one outside has disappeared from view

Whatever do these people have to do?

Excretion is a nuisance for us all

But go on sweetheart let your sad tears fall

For rears are clean and will not do as harm

Uric acid rarely has much charm

The  white clouds look too real

It makes them seem artificial

The sun is making them glow,nor healthily eitherm

They add a certain ornate beauty to the sky

I wish to know that had not built the extension to their kitche

They don’t even seem to be there now

Why did they bother?

There’s a tiny cloud like a left behind baby

Or a squirrel.

There’s a West wind now and it’s very strong.

I’d like to go outside but I can’t.

My sister is ill. The Impossible death

Now seems imminent

It’s alright for the clouds they have no hearts.

I still have mine but maybe one day it will just give up

Too many dying people around

And the politicians don’t help

I wonder where they find them now

Maybe under an artificial rock at Southport

The lamp posts scream with laughter

I wonder where my mother is but there’s no way to find out

One day I will die as well

That’s all we need to know

The sun burned in the mirror of the loft

The window crimson like  the Scotch Queens hair.

No hallucination,  vision true

I saw the heart of nature red and bare

The violence of the dawn gave me great joy

The world’s not prim and pretty it is fierce

It burns our eyes . It drives away our dreams

If we see such dawn our hearts are seared.

For me the world will end with my own death

But while I am alive I feel its joy

The sun burns up the waste of mind and heart .

While why we are on earth we are its toy.

I saw the sun rise in your window

pane

Such a sunrise may not come again

My sister’s eyes are sea green and deep

Like pools in the Irish sea off the coast off Anglesey.

Moelfre where she swam ,despite the cold,

Like a small seal.Night times I told her stories,

She lay and dreamed them till schooltime

But we grew beyond my storytelling

When adolescence drew us apart.

Years later

As I sat with her child

At my knee,

Weaving stories for her

Around the Russian horse

From the antique shop in Aldeburgh,

I saw my sister leaning towards us,

Her green eyes full of long-lost yearning.

I realised she was still my loving little sister,

From long, so long ago, her green eyes,

In the deep caves of her inner sea ,filled with longing.

I felt she wanted to get back

Into the magic circle

Of the arms of the mother we

No longer had to hold us.

So, I took her inside my heart,

And hold her  there always

Scruples make us focus more and more
We focus more and more on less and less.
We fall into the black dot we have bored.

Excessive zeal is narcissism galore,
As off to that Confessional we rush,
Scruples make us focus more and more

How can we love our sisters when  unsure
Our  guts and bladders squelch in horrid mush
We fall into the blackness off the shore.

Oh, sacred Self, oh Sanctity renewed!
God will worship me, delicious!
Scruples made me narrow-eyed and sure.

By my own will, I thought I could be pure.
A mystic soul  admired by all the toffs
I fell into the black hole of manure.

The sensitive  of mind  find life so rough
That  penance, torture, whipping’s not enough
Scruples made my focus narrow down.
I fell down the black hole , hey, what a clown!

Do not leave us for your lonely grave

Do not leave us here when you are gone

Do not leave my heart in blood to bathe

We need your kindness your work is not done

Do not leave a sister all alone

Do not leave a brother empty sad.

You who share my skin and share my bones

Come back come back live not with the Dead

Here’s your daughter with her newborn babe

Here’s your eldest son oh mother mine

Live again live again oh stay

Do not leave us yet without a sign

The tears run down our faces but too late.

The human world’s not ours to navigate