The plot against the Queen

We want exciting news,the Queen must die .

Balmoral murder,killed by MI5

Disguised as horses, agents gathered near

Wondering if her Majesty drank beer.

They were sent to Epsom where they raced

It made them breathless and deep red of face.

They were furloughed or they worked from home

Balmoral was too far away to comb.

The Queen still lived and she turned 96

They say she has goats milk in weetabixy

Emily Dickinson

https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/industry-news/tip-sheet/article/67591-the-10-best-emily-dickinson-poems.html


BY EMILY DICKINSON

Wild nights – Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –

To a Heart in port –

Done with the Compass –

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –

Ah – the Sea!

Might I but moor – tonight –

In thee!

Dickinson poems are electronically reproduced courtesy of the publishers and the Trustees of Amherst College from THE POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON: VARIORUM EDITION, Ralph W. Franklin, ed., Cambridge, Mass: The Belknap Press of Harvard University of Press, Copyright © 1988 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College

Might I but moor – tonight –

Pardon

Girls must not invert commas in the class-ruins,

Don’t kill your chickens before

they hatch.

Don’t kill yourself getting ready for gym.

I never want to be buried again.

My husband never said he would cry before me.

I don’t want to be curried again.

Did you pass the driving pest?

All class ruins to be demolished by morning.

Who is he?

Yes? Learn grammar now

Spread your cocktail sausages with honey and sesame butter and they will disappear rapidly says Nigella our lovely writer

I didn’t know she can work magic!

Mike Flemming copyright 2022

Melt butter in a pan then pour over the chicken legs after killing yourself for best results.

Caramelise the sugar and mix with butter before finally tasting yourself.

Jubilee Guardian

Peel potatoes and cut into large chinks.Put salt all over and soak for a year before washing in cold water Eat hot with chopsticks

Water

Please drink your own water at ,7- am No tea this week. No money.

Please learn to walk before you get out of bed , No physio.

We don’t like the food either.

Do you like hot chocolate?

Well you can’t have it in here.

Why not?

You have got dementia

Is it infectious?

Do cats have eyes?

Come again

I am not the Messiah

Would you know?

You don’t mean I have to walk on the river Lea?

Only if God tells you to.

I might drown

O ye of little faith

t


Rock in the sky

I’d like to stroke your head to soothe your pain

I’d like to hold you while you rest again

Does my fantasy seem much too sweet

Can the heart enjoy such sweet deceit?

I’d like you in pyjamas. by the fire

Feelng cosy though you might be tired

Looking at a Bergman film with me

I do know you like them we will see

Then we could have a fight about my cat

It bit your head off when it lost the rat

I’d make some cocoa read your palm in bed

My eyes are weak so we might kiss instead

The earth would rock the stars crash in the sky

When I sang a dreamy lullaby

Looking blessed

We want all women to look their best

While they sit the IQ test.

No bra with wires,no woollen vest

No lover kind, no more sex pests

We want them neat and clean as fleas

As clean as rats,as cruel as bees

They must be virgins, must not tease

Nor laugh at men nude in the breeze

I think it’s late Take out your pen

Undress when I count to ten

Leave evil for good

From anguish,pain and paranoia flee

Into calm and joyful states of mind

Keep your balance so that you can see

To yourself and all the lost be kind

Do not linger in the shopping mall.

Do not meet the ladies as they lunch

Flee to parks and gardens, flowers and soil.

Flee to sandy beaches,find a bench.

If you feel such hatred, what’s the evidence?

If you have been wronged oh do not sulk.

Much good in life arrives by happenstance.

Do not cling to angry thoughts in bulk.

Exercise your body with romance

Even nasty places give a start

To finding the true path with mind and heart

No fixed àddress

Noone saw me,no one met my eyes.

I felt the life inside me wilt and die

Of no value to the human race

If no-one saw them they would not exist

Leonard Cohen”s name was on a list.

I almost burned away in hot distress

The charred remains would have no fixed address.

Like the Jews who wandered for a space,

No eyes no gold ,no teeth, I am a Jew

I have no tongue to speak, nor language too.

My doctor

My doctor told me to go out at night.

The Surgery is closed so bring a light

Don’t tell me you smoke, you silly man

Illt stay at home and put the kettle on

I am more cute than any kettle here

Why in any case I want a souvenir

Of what my darling,do you mean a child?

I am 93, you make me wild

Please forgive my errors as we talk

If that’s English you have made your mark

If it’s Hindu tell us what you mean.

I don’t know my angel,I want to see the Queen.

Good luck there she needs a lot of care.

Don’t omit to send my love to her

Oh spelling errors

Can you bake love in a microwave?

Why bake it? Try eschewing it with carats

Can you fake love for a dessert?

What’s the first coarse?

Can we take love on holiday?

Is it a tablet ? Is it on the NHS?

Don’t wait, they might cut it out

Take your holiday afterwards

Goodbye

I thought I loved a man with all my heart

Until I ate your famous apple tart.

I thought that I could live inside his arms

Till your heat destroyed his little charms

I was too kind so now I shall be cruel.

You must fight a sex fiend in a duel

I needed to escape his lassoo long

So I burst into a moralistic playgirl song

He could could afford no golden ring for me

He banks with only HSBBC.

I said he had to save me on his Drive.

He hates Google,ain’t that a surprise?

That day


I wish there were no numbers and no dates
I forget them all , yet memory is like glue
With counting, with remembrance, with lost mate

There’s our sorrow and its seas to navigate
The waves rise up and drop, so old so new
I wish there were no numbers and no dates

Why are modern hearts so separate?
The seas of knowledge, all are one in truth
With counting, with remembrance, with no trace

Oh,universe, why do you have such space
With patterns in the stars, that might us soothe
If there were no numbers and no dates?

Why are we self labelled as a race?
Slowly, surely we will dig up truths
With anguish, with remembrance, oh, lost face

When will grace remake a soul so bruised
Struggling with the time scale, still bemused
I wish there were no numbers and no dates
No counting, no remembrance, no lost face

Creative space

Oh happy were we crossing Salisbury plain

On the way to Dorset once again

The isle of Purbeck, butterflies and birds

he lark near Swanage waiting to be heard.

Once the plain was home to peace

and sheep

The Cold War brought the Army and their shells.

Now there’s War again,a thought to mull.

Do men want peace when War is all the rage?

Look on Facebook,Mr Putin’s page.

One cruel man kills children in the streets.

There is no warfield,like there are no sheep.

There is no safety now for

Ukraine’s least.

As Russia plays with evil and the Beast

s

I have learned the geography of grief.

I have walked the silent paths of grief
Sunless, dreary, cold and all alone.
I have slept on beds of winter leaves

Oh death you are a cruel, mysterious thief.
Although my heart weeps, and my joy has gone,
I have never felt I was deceived.

I have learned that human life is brief.
I have learned by sorrow we’re undone.
I have sifted earth and what’s beneath.

I have felt the dark emotions seethe
While I’m mocked by glaring, savage sun.
I have learned the geography of grief.

I wait in patience for my life to ease.
Will I know when my Last Supper’s come?
Will my tale be written on a leaf?

Unconsoled grief can make us dumb
Into our hearts, we drag the ice that numbs
I have walked the silent paths of grief
I have made my bed on winter leaves

Who are you?

I really don’t know who you are are

Sitting there with your guitar

I don’t know if the feeling’s real

We never even sat down for a meal.

I don’t like to quarrel or fight

Hallelujah,I am always right.

I don’t want another man who shouts.

I wonder why I think you are alright

Would I let you share my bed?

Should I get a cat instead?

My imagination dressed you to suit

The way you look is handsome and cute .

.

I fn

Sun in Westmorland

The sunlight’s lemonade,the trees are dark

Oh beautiful the feelings of my heart.

I remember Silverdale with joy.

The small green lanes,the meadows, girls and boys.

Arnside Knott the sheep the glimpse of sea

My heart is longing to be there with you

The train runs on the viaduct to Grange

The sea and river mix is rich and strange.

The last card

Self improvement ends when we depart
On the final train ride of our life
Silent is that little clock, our heart

When we lose our teeth that is the start
When we have no man to make us wife
Self improvement ends when we depart

When we reach the edges of all charts
Unknown oceans, crossed by unknown lines
Silenced is that little clock, our heart

Can we be improved by self regard?
Can self help kick us up till we’re divine?
Either way it ends when we depart

No more tricks as we play our last card
All that I possessed, no longer mine
Silenced is that little clock, our heart

How peaceful is the dust, it does not strive
Nor agitate itself about soul stained
Self improvement ends, we die, depart
Silent are the speeches of our hearts