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Dear Aunt Aggie

I have got a problem with food.Basically I can’t eat
Can you offer  any suggestions?

Starving of Surrey

Dear Starving
I am sorry you hate eating when when the Easter Eggs will soon be in bloom.Are you sulking?
Have you ever thought  of cooking a roast beef dinner and putting it into the food processor along with a glass of wine
Then you can eat it from a spoon.If  you can’t, add more wine and drink it

Otherwise go for raw food chopped into small pieces and covered in lemon with olive oil
Another thing is chopped melon with chopped avacado  and black grapes
I do not  mean dirty grapes, just dark coloured ones

How about a bag of chips  with battered fish?

photo of vegetables on bowl
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Stuff a sprout

If  stuffed cabbage is too much
Stuff a sprout, from Brussels  lurched
A joint of beef is excess now
Try a calf’s foot  not a cow’s
Try a sausage  stewed in milk
If it spills we shall not wilt
Roast potatoes make some mad
Grill tinned peaches, they’re not bad
Try a carrot for a lark
Eat  it when your mood is dark
Make a salad, apple, nuts
Celery must face the cuts
Walnuts  come in bags not shells
Just as oil comes  out of wells
Why not ask a guest if blue?
I  can’t eat enough for two!

 

Food for the desperate yet creative person

This should pass the time for a bored person who needs a challeng
e
Brussels sprout Souffle
 
79ef33915b72a1cc7f5f 550

An earthy souffle using Brussels sprouts and mozzarella cheese

https://recipeland.com/recipe/v/brussels-sprouts-souffle-33318

The poor can’t take this lockdown for too long

The poor can’t take this lockdown for too long
They have no back gardens, no birdsong
Their  bed rooms shared, or they have none at all
No privacy, no silence, it appalls

I hear them talked about in cruel ways
“They go into McDonalds every day”
Would you  cook your meals in red wine bathed
If you had   only got  a  microwave?

They  can’t keep warm in winter  in their homes
McDonald’s is a luxury  they earn
Clean and neat  with heating and hot drinks
They sit and look at me , like I’m the Sphinx

The   average reading age in Britain’s only nine
They can’t read Boris’ letter, that’s malign

Who commands these viruses like flu?

 Who commands these viruses  like flu?
Consternation makes our hearts feel blue
Do we have a lifeboat or an Ark?
The situation does feel rather stark

Who  decided we could work while sick?
Our energy depleted , brains feel think
Decisions  so important  need clear minds
Not one both  unravelling and blind

We  travel  round the globe, a virus ride
Our garments are as louche as fratricide
We snap some photos of the Golden Dome
Then jump on a plane and turn to Rome

Why not stay in Britain  or in France?
The piper plays but  only demons dance

Uncertainty,unease, a maverick flu?

The government  may need one maverick
In addition, we may need a  leader  new
Too many , they  try  out ingenious tricks

In Great Britain there are many eccentrics
Inventing light bulbs, rifles and beef stew
The government  should have one maverick

Did we invent that much used  red clay brick?
Did we shoot  down  birds and peasants too?
Daft M Ps  who try  out  madmen’s tricks

If you’re wearing boots,let noone lick
Cov19 may  kill them, just like flu
The government  should have one  maverick

Everyone agreed that we are sick
Post-modern  theories  stick around like glue
To our M Ps  they are a  subtle threat

Some days I feel well,I think you do
Uncertainty,unease, a maverick flu?
The government  may need one maverick
Too many , they  wear out the new Chief’s Whip

 

What or who is a maverick?

white brown cow
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com

 

https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day/maverick-2020-04-07?pronunciation&lang=en_us&dir=m&file=maveri01&utm_campaign=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_source=wotd&utm_content=pron

 

Definition

1 : an unbranded range animal; especially : a motherless calf
2 : an independent individual who does not go along with a group or party

Did You Know?

When a client gave Samuel A. Maverick 400 cattle to settle a $1,200 debt, the 19th-century south Texas lawyer had no use for them, so he left the cattle unbranded and allowed them to roam freely (supposedly under the supervision of one of his employees).

Read more by clicking  thelink 

We don’t see what is there,we see ourself

The eye is not a  camera taking shots
Our mind affects  the aspect we  perceive
And what it feels important it will spot
Give grace or hatred,cause us  all to grieve.

When we are afraid ,we see the worst
We see disgrace or ruin as our fate
As if our self  for horror has a thirst
So all the little details we collate

Yet when we  love we see before us joy
The flowers sing, the birds dance in  the air
We see no evil  nor with  hatred toy
All aspects of  our world appear more fair.

We don't see what is there,we see our self
To learn ,we must employ all human wealth

Ignite

If Boris Johnson  frequently told lies
This is very common  nowadays
No-one sane would be at all surprised

If  Boris Johnson could not breath ,so died 
Everyone for his soul might now pray
Though Boris Johnson  told some  dreadful lies

Even Peter , Jesus thrice denied
This was human, of such fears we’re prey
No-one sane would be at all surprised

If Boris was with women, he  was wry
But not enough to  stage one in his  play
Oh,Boris Johnson you should not have lied

   Oh Boris  has more children than his bride 
   Now he wants another though he’s grey   
   No-one sane admits they are surprised

I dreamed  of him last night,  he was so gay
To my surprise he charmed me  with love play
If Boris Johnson   lost his head and died
The  people would be frightened and ignite

 

 

 

 

Send God some gelatine

.My husband is naughty a very naughty man
He throws down the newspaper on top of his beer can
He buys himself a sandwich in a cardboard box
And puts it in the laundry with his woollen winter socks.

He takes off his pyjamas and chucks them on the floor
He uses hankies  frequently, so we have to buy some more.
He wants to have thick sauces on top of all his food.
And when he has a hypo his speech is very rude.

I gave him such a shock when I learned to curse and swear
But we really need to,as “eff off “is everywhere.
Why, even in the Bible there are some wicked words
I’ve not read it all  but it does seem damned absurd

I mean to finish reading it and then when I must die,
I’ll come onto a cloud and shout,Oh pi is in the sky.
For transcendental numbers give a hint divine.
Although you can get it better with a  bottle of white wine.

My husband drinks draught Guinness and then he fall asleep
He hollers and curses when the oven timer bleeps.
He eats a piece of kipper and cried out,Oh,dear God!
Nobody caught this bugger with a  British fishing rod

He wants to move to Whitby and walk upon the sands
Sit in the audience and hear the big brass bands.
He wants to see the sun rise and to see it set…
So please send God some gelatine in case the air’s too wet!

 

I’ll be be judge,I’ll jury

Pamianthe-peruviana_2020-1I am going moon bathing tonight
Is it full?
No,I’ll be in the churchyard with a ghost or two
What, getting buried?
I’m not dead yet
Well, get married
I am still uo nsure about my gender
Oh, dear,If only God had created one person who could fertilise themself
That would be dull. No falling in love, no desire, no arguing, no dinners thrown across the room
Well, you can love yourself
It’s not the same
Still, we must try.
Why?
We only  have one life
What about Heaven?
Have you seen it?
Well,I’ve felt it
Did  it last?
Not long
Owing to your hot temper?
No,  it was the alarm clock
What?
Your dad threw it at me
That was very cruel~
He was testing my reflexes 
So he said,Did you believe him?
I was unconscious
It knocked you out?
No,I fell out  of bed and  hit my head on  this chair
Did he ring 999?
No, he  ran away.
Well, that’s life
I do wish you’d learn some new cliches
So do I.

In deep water, luminous as fog

If I should live again, I’d be a frog
For tadpoles ,insubstantial, cause no fright
Yet they change but not into a log

They change their being, leap up from the bog,
As bread is changed by holy, priestly rites,
If I should live again, I’d be a frog

In deep water, luminous as fog,
The frogs live on the edge of human sight
Yes they croak but not till we’re in bed

As lovers lie down naked on their rug
They tempt the frog, the adder, the termite
Then they rage upon the death of God

As the wheel turns, see, it drips with blood
The human race is ground up, we’re a blight
Yes, someone, somewhere, once did something good

Oh dark, oh grey, oh where is the new light?
Seems like the frogs, the Lord leapt out of sight
If I should live again, I’d be your god
I’d save the world by turning us to frogs

People envy you your nouns

I thought I’d make a few new laws
Never let cats cut  their  claws
Never eat with fork and knife
Until you are  both man and wife
Lick the plate when you’re a guest
Washing up is such a pest
Lay the  table, heat the plates
All these things ingratiate
Don’t say the sky is very clear
The lost  pollution brings on fear
If you panic, never mind
You could be either dead or blind.
See it from a different place
Perspective’s fine when well embraced
Never drink  coffee  to  keep awake
It can make  the chilblains ache
Do your thumbs split near the nail?
Mine have done and I am pale
O woe  is me,I cannot read
My mind is churning at great speed
Never let things get you down
People envy you your nouns

Love keeps the rules

Reality itself is like a dream
Where people die at random. some unseen
People flout the rules while others scheme

In ancient times,what did an omen mean?
A God enraged,his people sinned,unclean
Reality itself seems like a dream

Social life and conversation ruined
My words fell backwards, into  trash were heaved
People flout the rules while others scheme

Still, we have the sun,oh glorious beams
And in  a coup d’etat remainers leave
Reality,a huge collective dream

United by the wish to help,  streets form new teams
Love is shown, regardless, I believe
Some people  like the rules while others scheme

As the world’s  own web  in silence weaves
Stay at  home , give aid to those who grieve
Reality ,a universal dream
Love keeps  the rules, but death’s  still on the scene

 

 

Ancient games

The summer heat  made cobblestones like stoves
The Coronation  happened, I know now
We played with melted tar, industrial wains.

My mother’s hands were black and much beloved
The coal and coke had tattooed her, we knew.
The summer heat made cobbles hot as stoves.

In the road, we played our ancient games
The older children passed the knowledge down
We played with melted tar, industrial wains.

The bully boys  were cruel, did not heed love
A little boy had tried to be a clown
In summer heat, they beat him on the stones.

We were silent as they flaunted power again
But in our hearts, we knew we’d let him down
We threw warm melted tar, industrial wains

And in our phantasy, he was alone.
No-one knew who threw the vicious stone
The summer heat  made cobbles hot as flames
We played with melted tar, Christ died again

The wild waves

Your cold rejection struck like icy hands
Go back to Norway, you are banned
No  more with British women may you toy
You ,sacrilegious, broke  the heart’s own law

Go back to where the seals play in the wild
The icycles are cold  and I’m with child
I shall keep this infant though you’ve left
Women understand the warp and  weft

Nature  in its cruelty I detest
  Infertile women  walk abject and crushed
Giving birth   can change a woman’s soul
And exact an  unknown ,hellish   toll

My child was dead but then  awoke for me
The jewelled heart,  the soul,divinity

As the river  must submit to sea

The broad sands  of old Redcar bright and bare
Dark ochre with  a touch of  lighter tones
Easter time we walked  to Saltburn pier

Cold  but happy  with my love right there
Hand in hand, I felt his very bones
The broad sands  of old Redcar  town were  bare

They say the perfect love casts out all fear
As if  a person’s found their rightful home
Easter time we wandered to  the pier

Loved and known, who has not shed a tear?
Teesmouth is as wide as  winter storm
The broad sands  of old Redcar  town still  bare

As the river  must submit  to sea
So  loving does much more than keep us warm
Joyous days we walked to Saltburn pier

 

The river rushing downhill like a hare
Made  next a valley  fertile   in its charm
The broadening  river mouth ate sand like air

How  we laughed, like children arm in arm
Smiling at the sky and tickling palms
From the  sands  of  Redcar,  rapt we stared
Saw North Sea   and gazed  at Saltburn pier

Green flowers

 The  bowling green, the clack of ball on ball 
Across the grass as perfect as  the dawn
We sit down on a bench,new painted too
Lumpy paint  but good enough to do

Round the edge, the dahlias  bloomed  like suns
No irony was meant nor overcome.
Goldenrod, geranium were bold
The earth was   hot and rich in summer’s hold

Past virgin rhodedendrons , children  played
Swings and see-saws, all somewhat decayed
Painted with the same paint as the bench
I saw my father fall, I felt the wrench

Where shall we sit, my sweetheart, by the lawn?
I have lost your face. my heart lies torn

Oh,doctor I am in a flap

Clematis-Octopus-2020

Oh,doctor I am in a flap
I cannot turn this childproof cap
I cannot take my medicine
So I shall toss it in the bin

The beta blockers make me down
I am in a study brown.
The mini aspirins make me bruise
And my mind is quite confused.

The ibuprofen hurt my heart
Yet without one I cannot start.
The thyroxine has no effect
So now I feel my life is dreck.

The codeine fails to make me high
I'm not addicted, though I try.
I'll have to take a shot of gin
And alcohol will make me sin.

I'll go to parties in a dress
That makes men's hormones more or less.
I'll take a big one home with me,
And give him poison in his tea.

And when I am in jail at last
I'll feel remorse for all my past.
For as I suffer dreadful pain
God has hit me yet again.

It's not enough that I am blind
And suffer terrors in my mind
Not enough that lovers cruel
Give me stick instead of jewels.

Or maybe life does not make sense
Especially when I feel so tense.
Maybe random are my days
and my life has gone astray.

I think that I shall buy a cat
And love it tenderly and chat.
But if my cat gives me a scratch...
I'll light its tail up with a match.

All the world must me obey
Else I'll be enraged all day.
I want my own way all the time.
Other people must conform.

I am here and full of ills
What do you think of these blue pills?
If they take away my heart
That at least will be a start.

Then they can remove my brain
To help me with this damned pain.
Why not kill me right away
Then I'll be from pain astray?

 

A jellied eel is rarely served today

Smoke your fish in grandad’s polished pipe
Unless by accident you caught a pike
Foxes  tails are not a brush for hair
Without a tail, a fox will need repair

Herrings  caught in Whitby harbour glare
They may be dead but that is their affair
A jellied eel is rarely served today
If you eat one piece then  do not say

Bacon. ham and sausages despair
Moses said to eat them was unfair
Can we  reverse the  process we have used
And make some pigs, if only to amuse

Did smoking food  conceal the smell of death
The pig is  gone, it’s not holding its breath
Smoking pipes did not keep men alive
Some smoke in their grave. as I have spied

In the end  it’s  burial  or fire
The ashes of  the dead   are not for hire

Being

Epimedium-versicolor

In The Courage to Be,  Paul Tillich asserts:

He who does not succeed in taking his anxiety courageously upon himself can succeed in avoiding the extreme situation of despair by escaping into neurosis. He still affirms himself but on a limited scale. Neurosis is the way of avoiding nonbeing by avoiding being.

 

https://hokmahrevision.wordpress.com/2012/09/17/tillich-on-signs-and-symbols/

 

Senseless we will suffer, we are sick

We believe  just what we want and then we find
All unaware, unconsciously, within
The evidence we need to close our minds

We might as well be deaf and if not, blind
Perception lies, conception is then thin
We believe  just what we want which  we  then find

We justify our actions, are unkind
Cast    first stones as if we never sin
With evidence invented by closed minds

By the blood of others our own soul is stained
Starving children  grovel in waste tips
Affectless we look, we cast off blame

The widespread wars, the  rage, the napalm aimed
The slaves who make our clothes, who feel the whip
Are evidence  we  choose to close our minds

The punishment for blindness will  now stick
Our souls and minds degraded by one click
We believe  what suits us and then we  surely find
The evidence we need to shut our minds

 

 

 

As pale as paper

img_20200104_201319784

If this were 2040 I’d be 70 ….. so how does that grab you and your   grocery delivery slots?

I am over 70 and  am very variable.Can I book a delivery or a funeral?


I am 69.9999999
Must I wait infinitely  long for any delivery.I’m an asymptote.I never reach the end.Unless I die of starvation and fall off the curve

Ny husband says pi is a real number.I say it’s a meal.Can you deliver either of these?

I am 69 and 3/4.Can I round that up to  the nearest whole number?  You’ve never heard of whole numbers? Just guess.No it’s not holy.

I should  be 70 but I  was overdue and stayed in the womb 3 weeks extra.Now I might suffer starvation which seems cruel.I can’t get back in to the womb.Tell the manager.

I am 91 and highll y visible.Please give me a slot. Do I pay after tasting?

I am very frail and can no longer ride my bike.Shall I die or will you send my  order
Or both?

I will survive if and only if you anwer the phone.Yes ,I am a mathematician but I can’t live on numbers alone.Send some protein I beg you.

I  just stumbled upon this site.May I book a slot? No.not for letters I want some food
I can’t see any other answer to my prayers.God says he’s never seen me before.

I’ve had to live on pizza for 2 weeks.I shall be 70 tomorrow.Any chance of  a delivery?
I was born at 12.02  April 3rd am 1 in 950 weighing 3lb 6 oz.I was premature.I still am.Any chance of ordering some baby food for delivery?
Don’t make me die hungry.

Wild statistics

Shall we die of flu or suicide?
Or shall we live  as sanguine as  sweet joy
Who  by wild statistic is deprived?

Which man shall now look out in wild surmise
Perception  is  not truth,does  that annoy?
Shall we die of flu or suicide?

What will shops sell now when noone  buys
Do not   yet despair when  self employed
Such  daft statistics   make old people cry

Think about the sadness of a bride
A cancelled wedding, her good day destroyed
Would she die  if anger  brewed inside?

I ate ten bars of chocolate  in my rage
That was all the food I could afford
When  by strange statistics I was caged

Write sweet songs and do not folk ignore
Then   turn  again to love, that aged  whore
Shall we die of flu or suicide?
Who  by damned statistic is deprived?

 

 

 

 

Therapy is over

Sometimes we don’t like our thoughts.
They tell us we are no good, ugly or a failure
I believe that we can get CBT  as therapy. here in Britain
This makes us challenge the thoughts we hate
Now since Freud is dead I’ll tell you my idea.
Stop hating your thoughts  but  don’t love them either.
Let them flow along  like a stream of clear water.
There, that didn’t cost you anything.Your therapy is over Continue reading “Therapy is over” →

The sea was greeny blue, at least on top

Hepatica-okesabayashi-2020 (1)St Margarets Bay, the  cliff top the wild flowers,
We lay in warm soft sunlight, lighthouse tower,
The clifftop where we lay has   come to grief
Don’t blame us, we  kissed  on Hampstead Heath

The ground is shifting underneath our feet\
This  curious government deserves defeat
They tried to make a human sacrifice
What, turn the telly off  or it may spie?

Then I saw the dress I wore at sea
They took us off  the cliffs to give us tea
The lifeboat men  had saved us from the drop
The sea was greeny blue, at least on top

They took us into Folkestone for some beer
I prefer  green tea, I am sincere
Actually I told another lie
I’ll drink Earl Grey tea  until I die

After that my memory grows dim
I fear my entire life is one long sin

Choice

Shall I be one of those who get no care
The framework of the doctors’  thoughts  lies bare
Who can say migrainous hearts  are weak
Who  has  got a  heart valve which might leak?

Since I see the world throught just one eye
Will that be enough to let me die?
My thyroid gland is fading as I age
I do not have the  energy for rage.

We have no rights from God [ is he a  lie?]
Kant’s Imperative  deserves a try
If I’m looking pale  or even sad
That does not mean I  wish that I were dead

Austerity was  hardest for the poor
Now the Graveyard waits, there is no cure.

Write better poetry

Gethyum-atropurpureum-2020

https://www.scribophile.com/blog/10-ways-to-supercharge-your-poetry/

EXTRACT

Emotion. One of the traps of poetry is the temptation to write around an emotion, rather than to fully immerse yourself in and write with and through that emotion. Don’t be afraid of feeling! Without a doubt, this can be one of the most fulfilling aspects of the art. Emotion is the currency of poetry. Show me the money! Take a class. Continue to learn about poetry. Look for a university extension class being taught by a local poet, or a night school class, or a workshop at your city’s writer’s collective, or even on-line correspondence course. If nothing else, at least read a book about the art and craft of poetry. I recommend Poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldrige. It’s fun, easy to read, and has lots of great exercises. I’ve had great success with it.

The kettle too sat on the fire, I played and then I dreamed

I remember mother’s beauty and her coal stained and cracked hands
Each  little line was etched in black,   like a map to other lands
She always wore an apron that  she made from an old dress
How I loved my mother,I did I must confess.

I remember mother’s beauty and the row of nappy pins
She always wore them like a brooch,  while we kids made a din
The baby had her rusks and milk, she had a little pot
She slept inside a cradle then she moved into a cot

I remember  most Mum’s  cooking, the apple dumplings steamed
The kettle too sat on the fire , I played and   then I dreamed
She had a tin of buttons, she  was ace at making clothes
She knitted like an acrobat  to forget her many woes

Her daddy was a miner till he had a heart attack
He came home   black and dusty, then he filled his old tin bath
When he retired he got a dog,  he loved her very well
He called  her Lassie for her name, she was  beautiful , my belle

Her daddy came to see us after our own daddy died
He help my mother with odd jobs, then we  all ate cake and cried