First class ass

I am very clever,give me that
I have got a first class aegrotat
Do you feel that you would like one too ?
Just get chicken pox or maybe flu

I went to York in winter,this is true
Hebden Bridge had icebergs in the loo
Then we were near Grimsby in thick fog
The Humber Ferry crossed like coppers plod

In Hull they gave degrees in geography
Now they teach the gross democracy
That may be where I caught Golders Green
My face is apple and my eyes are teal

I could have done degrees in Law or Greek
I love to hear the way the foreign speak
Give me Aramaic for my tea
Give me ancient Hebrew,I am he.

I learned Dutch but I was not first class
In fact I failed completely,I’m an ass


Float through my mind like flowers

On summer days the cliff at Weybourne sang
Of finest grass entwined with tiny flowers
The butterflies were floating on the wind

We walked along contented, hand in hand
In Sheringham we saw no faces dour
On summer days the cliffs at Weybourne sang

We met no wasps nor anything that stings
The footpath was kept clear, no weeds to sour
The butterflies were resting on the wind

I looked at bluebells,insects hear their ring
So we passed with pleasure our free hours
On summer days, the cliffs at Weybourne sang

Was it for this perfection Adam sinned?
No human joy is with us very long
The butterflies were resting on the wind

On summer days the cliff at Weybourne sang
Of grass so fine and of its tiny flowers
The butterflies were floating on the wind

In winter the North wind will make beasts cower
No need for ventilation,faces glower
On summer days the cliff at Weybourne sang
The butterflies float through my mind, bright, winged


The wind blew off your hat

Salthouse St Nicholas church - aerial Norfolk | Salthouse ch… | Flickr

By Salthouse Church the wind blew off your hat
We watched it flying like an unstrung kite
Then snow fell in cold Cromer,see the map!
A cat dosed by the fire in the warm pub
Yet near Salthouse winds blew off your hat
I’d have blown off too, were I less fat
These gales would give the sailing boats a fright
By Salthouse Church the wind blew off your hat
We watched it flying up in cold sunlight




I’m certainly tempestuous

He sometimes seemed cantankerous
Yet he carefully looked after us
He bathed us by the hot coal fire
But for all you know I am a liar
I’m certainly tempestuous

He had an even temperature
Of that I am almost sure
We did not use thermometers
The doctor stuck one up of us
Which showed us life must be endured

He was good at his arithmetic
He could read and perform tricks
We loved him and we smiled at him
With his dog so clean and trim
Alas we weren’t allowed to lick

He liked the sand at Morecambe Bay
And said he’d like to sink right there
Very economical
No need to hold a funeral
And that is all I wish to say

Dropping off

Photo by mirsad mujanovic on Pexels.com

When I read that a family had pitched their tent on the edge of a cliff in Yorkshire
I wondered whether many of us had retained the natural intelligence we had as animals
rather than spending years in school then coming out with a low reading age
In the UK the average reading age has fallen from 11 to 9 in the last few years by some reports

https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2006/jan/24/books.politics

“Up to 16 million adults – nearly half the workforce – are holding down jobs despite having the reading and writing skills expected of children leaving primary school, a new report reveals today.”

This is shameful.Surely reading and writing should be higher than this for most people
It might explain some of our economic problems.How can we have a democracy when half of us
can’t even read the pamphlets we get before Elections?

Going back to the campers. is there no innate sense of danger in human beings in the West?
If you sleep on top of a cliff are you not likely to drop off completely forever?
If you sleep next to the bottom of a cliff you might be hit by a falling body or even a large lump of rock

Danger in Yorkshire:Don’t camp on a cliff

The River Warfe has raw sewage in it and will have until 2030 so the Water Board say
And it looks so inviting,The further upstream the better if you want a paddle

A couple and a child put their tent up for the night on the Edge of The Cliffs near Staithes [it’s unclear whether
that’s the top of the cliff or just below.’There have been many cliff falls near Runswick Bay and all along there
It may not be in Yorkshire but it’s close

A house in Halifax blew up but nobody seems to be seriously injured
Can it be gas?

Now speaks the Earth


Now speaks the earth of spring and all its joys.

Now flowers and blossom soothe our  lonely eyes.

So happy are the lovers, girls and boys,

As in the  daisied meadows they may lie.

Now speaks the sun and makes us  want to grow

to open like the flowers for his love

To let the life within us start to flow.

With  blessings sent down to us  from above.

Now every part of nature is in flood

Fresh leaves point down from trees to holy nests

The birds are active in this little wood,

And dwelling on the tree branch breast to breast.

Oh let’s not waste time glued to inner thoughts.

For we may miss the joy which spring has brought

It fell to earth with solemn gravity

Another branch has fallen from the tree
For nine short months, it weakened and grew dry.
It fell to  earth with utter gravity

Is comparing us to trees good simile?
I’d find a better if I’d wits to try
Another branch  has fallen from the tree

The tree grieves not, for trees like to be free
Their main desire is stature, to be high.
Dead branches fall to earth by gravity

Some compare life to a drunken sea;
Or to the sky where dance wild nuclei
Yet our most holy symbol is the tree

The strong hang on in their tenacity
Even as their leaves and berries fly
Weaker branches fall  with gravity

Death comes  so much harder to the high
This is no truth but neither do I lie
Another branch has broken from the tree
Thus disconnected , it is down and free

The moon fell down

The moon fell down into the village pond
Thus gravity was lost and mirth began
The gravity of grief is deep, profound
The moon fell down into the village pond
Noone heard the silence or the sound
As they floated out with their beer cans
The moon fell down into the village pond
Thus gravity was lost and mirth began

The shivering moon

The spiteful moon glares through the clouds of night
Unwanted by the men whose conscience aches
They must long for dawn, for sun and light
The shivering moon peers through the clouds of night
With unintended force it hurts the eye
Reminded those bereaved of their ill fate
Demented now, the moon gawps through the night
A loathsome sight to those whose conscience wakes

Yet life endures

Since you died I learned to use a crutch
I have noone to lean on, none to touch
I wanted you to die with kindly ease
Now I miss another I could tease

Noone knows what was our special tree
Nor why the pain of loss dwells in my knee
As if I cannot stand or wait alone
Dark earth is softer than these paving stones

The trees you loved my neighbours see as weeds
I shan’t recite a list of their misdeeds
Others gossip of my coloured coats
A widow’s weeds aren’t teal, they grin, they gloat

Before you went I saw the cloth of gold
Coming down from heaven to enfold
Then it rose, its satin thick and pure
Taking you away, yet life endures

The emptiness, the void, the loss, the pain
The crash severe we know is foreordained



The sky’s a shark

The sky is stark, the air is cool and still
The black cat’s run, the birds unfold all day
I sit down here and with my totty pray
Ye cast o’ foolish thoughts, you raped my will
We’ve each enraged the bureaucratic mill.
Oh frigid purse, I never meant to pay!
The sky ‘s a-spark, the air is warm and shrill
The saturnine demoted knelled their way
With this feathered pounce, my sample quill,
I cite the cheque and date it for next May.
Oh, tit for cat, the tiger’s bed ‘s astray.
Yer life is settled by a harlot’s will
The sky ‘s a shark, the air is sharper still.

The pavement

I knew the nearby pavement as if it were a face
The lines and cracks and puddles where holes sucked in the rain
The gutter where the marbles rolled,the grids like iron lace
I knew the nearby pavement as if it were a face
As if it had a consciousness,a heart to be embraced
It must have had some kind of mind,though never had a brain
I knew the nearby pavement as if it were my face
The lines and cracks and puddles where holes were filled with rain


Dinner

Mock soup with real dumplings
Flayed duck with burnt orange
Ginger mould and green algae

Avocado tumbled in Welsh dressing
Chicken legs on horseback and spinach
Mousse and a dream come true


Melon roasted in olive oil with mice
Roast thief and mash with tarot
Chinese Yoghurt with Lemon Frieze

Life, the dance

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

We walked in rhythm  as if life were our dance
Holding hands, we smiled   whilst on our way
Exchanging too  a soft and loving glance
We walked in rhythm  as if  love were a dance 
Showing both the strength and  the nuance
I wish my love were still with me  at play
We walked in rhythm, our life  a home made dance
Holding hands, we smiled whilst on our wa

Tranquil but swift

When we’re feeling sad we need to dance
Every place once had its form and tune
In Ireland self taught fiddlers could entrance
As merry people danced under the moon

Now we watch the dancing on TV
We’re still as statues tossed onto settees
But watching others dance can never be
A way to change our mood as rolls the sea

Infantile and placid with our lot
We have cables,aerials and Sky
Could the supernatural begat
Creative hearts in those who careless lie?

Just the music of the dance uplifts
The hearts that beat with love tranquil yet swift


The flowers scent

A sightless man on the cliff could smell the scents
As his daughter spoke the flowers names
He seemed happy, more than just content
A blind man in the garden sniffed the scents
We drank our tea with joy at careful chant
The sea was dancing, in and out it came
A sightless man near the cliff enjoyed the scents
His daughter told to all the flowers names

The emptiness

Without you, I feel the emptiness
The future seems a gaping void
Without you,I feel the loneliness
Without you, I feel the emptiness
My heart still feel essential homelessness
I ache for my lost life destroyed
Without you, I feel the emptiness
The future seems an endless void

Do try to be more boring

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My photo

1.Wear a dull beige or grey knitted hat and shapeless beige padded jacket
2 Carry a plastic handbag or briefcase.
3 Knit your eyebrows
4.Mutter inaudibly as you walk
5 Sing Joan of Arc and wave your arms like Jennifer Warnes when queuing in Tesco’s.Maybe that’s more insane than boring
6 Ask people at the bus stop if they like Pritti Patel.
7.Keep mentioning Boris Johnson in a puzzled manner as id
8.Tell everyone how ill you feel and ask them what they think of bunion operations.
9.Ask them if someone moves their gadgets round at night while they are asleep
10.If asked to meet for coffee,say you don’t drink if wondering who he is
11 Tell your lover all about Wittgenstein while he is caressing your supine body.
12.Ask your lover to define postmodernism after they kiss you
13.Use cliches like , at this moment in time, getting down to the nitty gritty, whenever possible
14.Don’t keep up to date in which spectacles are in fashion.Say, what ‘s wrong with these.especially if they resemble Dame Edna Everage’s. Or  if you have mended them with Elastoplast or elephant tape
15 Always talk more than anyone you are with or
16  Never talk
17.Ask women why they wear trousers.
18 Ask people how often they wash their jeans
19 Try to convert people to your religion as often as you can
20.Say  you never eat foreign  food while you eat a Chinese take away
21  Cry  when someone else eats the last cream puff
22 Say you never watch sport as you believe wearing shorts is a mortal sin.
23 Ask people if you can borrow  their vibrator as your  hand held blender is broken and you want to make sponge cake
24 Never read a paper or hear the News
25 Ask someone why Moses has descendants while Plato has none.
26 Ask an orthodox Jew why God hates pork.
27,Ask a Catholic if  they are on the pill.
28 Never flirt or even look at people
29 Never  make jokes
30 Never read lists nor funny books

The Saxon cliffs at Hythe

I remember turquoise sea and sky
Burning stubble in the fields longside
Coming down the Saxon cliffs at Hythe

Joy had straightened all that was awry
By the shore we saw the tide was high
Only I remember turquoise sky


Colour makes me glad to be alive
The flowers were open with a spirit blithe
Atop the newer cliffs, a cafe hides

Joy is never found when willpower strives
Just as love’s destroyed when lovers lie
I remember sea turned teal, blue sky


Freed fom our hard work we felt alive
The sea triumphant inward seemed to glide
We came down the Saxon cliffs at Hythe

In my heart these memories survive
Colour,shore, the images abide
I remember turquoise sea surprised
Coming down the Saxon cliffs at Hythe

The lifeboat

We are in this boat together
Sailing across the bay.
Some have an easy voyage,
The wind is blowing their way
I wish I could always be sailing
Across an ocean with you
And never reach the other side
though it may be in view.
I want to see the sunrise
Across the dappled sea.
The ripples of the water
Reveal a new world to me.
One day this boat will reach the shore
Unless destroyed by storm
And I shall have to leave your arms
Where I have been so warm.
So just before we get there
I wanted you to know
That I shall always love you
Wherever you may go.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

The handkerchief pan

In the evening. simmering handkerchiefs
Perfumed the air with odours I can’t tell
Mother scrubbed them, hung them on the line
Then I had to iron them, folded well

Now we have our tissues, we don’t need
Hankies that need scrubbing many times
The oceans  deep are  poisoned  with our  waste
Is the use of tissues a  new crime?

While we did our  homework  after tea
My brother  liked his Wagner at  full blast
Imagine  learning Latin  with that din
Now the time for anger  has  long passed

Bad memories change  by  newly given grace
Evoking hints of  mother and her face

The cake tins

I see the tins I used for Christmas Cakes
The Russian Cheese Cake and the apple tart
Nowadays do younger women bake?

I remember mother making Buns
Hot,uncross, she made cakes with her heart
Her apple suet pudding beat her plum

The kitchen was a room with its own fire
There we ate and cooked and fought,alarmed
Children pinch and nip and even bite

I banged my head upon the table sharp
The corners seemed to hate me,even spurn
I wished I were a dog so I could bark

I fell down the stairs, it was a thrill
It hurt less than the beatings made me smart
Children were deprived of any will

Shall these cake tins from my home depart?
Shall I make a small cake from a chart?
I hold the tin I used for Christmas Cake
Watching TV where new experts bake

Pen and bell

In this so called office,I am trapped
Trying hard to write and to adapt
I have numerous pens in this my cell
Reminding me of school, the longed for bell

Ten past four, we put on winter clothes
I crossed the Park in fog, it wet my nose
Walking down our street I’d see the cat
Sitting on the pavement, Ginger spat

I put the kettle on to make our tea
The coal glowed low and red like elves in glee
The aluminium teapot never broke
The kettle had turned black , the milk was smoked

I had that tiny piece from others free
That was when I learned that I am Me

Where are you from?

I’ve spent so long listening to Leonard Cohen when I’ve been sad,I now have a semi- Canadian accent.


One day I was at the bus stop and noone was around so
I sang “Joan of Arc” which takes 7 minutes
The nest time I met a friend, she said,I didn’t know you could
sing.She was behind her hedge!
I used to listen to the same songs over and over again

https://youtu.be/2zjLBWnZGTU

The war for peace

Like psychotic infants huge with rage
The human race grew rich on war not peace
Until at last the whole world was engaged
World Wars the great Plays on this our stage
Like psychotic infants hot with rage
Their burning breath took books,rich page by page
All imagined horror they increased
Like psychotic infants wild with rage
The human race fooled into War for Peace