I used to love my mother
but then I got too old.
She didn’t want to feed me
Because I felt the cold.
My feet and hands were purple
which she told me was wrong.
I couldn’t change the colour
so had to change my tongue.
I used to love my father
Until he went away.
They said he’s with the angels
and small girls ought to pray.
And then I loved the cat we had
And all four kittens too…
Until my mother got fed up
and sent them to the zoo.
I said I am disheartened
Life is far too hard…
or else I’m hypersensitive
and must become a bard.
I loved a Spanish waiter.
A young man from Peru.
I loved a lot of others–
No more than ninety two.
That is just an estimate
An average, a norm.
It’s what I told the doctor
When he filled out a form
He said to me,You err,my dear
And I mistook his speech
I thought he meant he loved me.
But he just meant to teach.
What he meant was quantity
is not what we desire..
One man is sufficient
Unless he is a liar.
And in the darkness of the bed
What matters is their smell.
Some men smell like honey..
much more I cannot tell
for though these men pursued me
I had such poor eyesight
I didn’t see them properly
especially at night..
I was more keen on Wittgenstein.
and whether I am real..
Maybe I’ve gone crackers
And don’t know I’m surreal
I don’t want any lovers now
for love brought so much pain
I’d rather be a jellied eel
than fall in love again.
But friendliness and welcome
Are what we humans need…
And cats and dogs and willow trees
Which don’t make our hearts bleed.
One man is sufficient
And necessary too..
Without my own sweet husband
whatever would I do?
He listens with his heart and soul
And he is never harsh…
He likes to hear me singing
Across of Southwold Marsh.
He likes to take the ferry boat
Across the River Blythe.
But now I hope the ferryman
will not yet arrive..
We have to cross that river
We have to let life go…
We have to be untied and freed.
We think,but do we know?
In the silvery moonlight,
Time gets her own way
In the darkness of the night
Time will have her say.
Time has come and gone again
And so the hand descends
So I bid you fond farewell,
We have reached the end.
Oh,wrap me up dear mother
in my winding cloth
Take me in your ancient arms
for I have had enough.
I’ve loved and loved and loved again.
I’ve puzzled and I’ve pained
but all I want’s a writing tool
To write down words again
Image by author
Doctor,doctor,I’m worried about my coughin’.
What about your coffin?
Well,it’s keeping me awake at night.
Why, are you sleeping in it?
I have only got one place to sleep.
If you were tired you could sleep anywhere!
Is that legal?
of course it is. legal
Well,can I sleep in the Queen’s bed?
In theory,yes… but you might frighten the horses.
Why, do they sleep with her? She must have a big bed.
Don’t be so ridiculous…
Well,she has loads of money.. she, could have a bed made for her.
She has a bed maid,
Do you mean someone makes her bed every day.
Well,don’t you make yours every day?
No,I bought one in a bed store and it’s well built and good and solid too,
But do you change the sheets daily?
NoiI never use paper I write letters on my chromebook.
What letters?
Any letters at all,except French ones.
But they use our alphabet.
it’s not ours.
Whose is it?
Possibly the Romans.Tantrum ergo!
They are all long gone into their coffins.Uno,duo tres,quattore…,decem,duodecem,duagessin’..
I knew coughin’ was very dangerous
I think your grammar is bed.
What a posh excent you have
It’s all I have left of the old Palace.
Well, never mind you can share my coffin if you like.
But is there a bed in it?
Just a bed bug as yet…
I blame the CIA.. whom do you blame?
I blame God and he blames us so it’s pretty much a stalemate.
We need the Messiah…..
Not again,we’ve not got over the last one yet…
You make him sound like a hurdle…
Well,it’s one way of looking at it all.. a big hurdle.
It’s all this talkin’ keeps me awake at night…
At least it stops you coughin’.
Doctor,doctor,the coughin’s keeping me up all night.
For goodness sake put the lid on it!
Dr Range-Rover asked Mary for all Stan’s details to facilitate his upcoming surgery.By now Mary was feeling worn out as she#d been shopping in the morning for Stan’s birthday present and some groceries.She really preferred morning appointments but with hospitals you get little choice.
Stan emerged with the nurse looking pale and wan.All she had done was to test him for MRSA..Mary picked up her bag.Suddenly and dilently Range-Rover crossed the room.
What’s that on YOUR nose? she barked at Mary.
Oh, yes, my glasses have been rubbing.It’s painful…Range-Rover picked up a dermatoscope which has a very bright light on it and placed it on Mary who was too surprised to move.The consultant thn invited the trainee doctor to come and take a look and they discussed the details of what they saw in front of Stan and Mary like two scientists who have just had a breakthrough.
You’ve got cancer,she informed Mary.Go to your GP soom,well you can wait till after Easter I suppose.You need a referral before I can have a go at you.
Stan turned even paler and looked angry…
Mary stood up and then collapsed by the door of the small room.Dr RangeRover picked her up and pulled a chair forward.
Sit down,she cried.She looked extremely worried.
How will you get home? she asked nervously.
In a cab,Mary told her…
Range-Rover looked even more worried as she was realising that she had crossed into Mary’s Sacred Space and broken her boundaries without asking her,at a time when Mary was possiblt anxious about her husband and feeling weary
..It may be common assault.She meant it for the best,we guess but surely a consultant should have some perception.Was she perhaps unnerved by supervising a trainee dermatologist?Alas,she refuses to comment…
As they walked out Stan said he wanted to go on the bus.Mary was too tired to argue so they sat at the bus stop in the sun waiting for their bus to come.
Or perhaps a ship would come in…and take them far away
Doctor,doctor,100 per cent of the patients waiting has died.
You mean have died,surely?
No,doctor,there was only one!
Doctor,doctor,50% of the patients is men today!
You mean “are men;do learn grammar”
Well,there are just two patients!
So 50% is women.
A woman!
Doctor,doctor,33.333333% of the patients is a child.
I am unsure if it’s your grammar,the topic or the fact that 1/3 can’t be written as a finite decimal number that is making me feel queer today,
Well,doctor,be gay if you like.I am ok with that!
I seem to fluctuate.Is that normal?
Who gives a damn about what’s normal?
The abnormal?
Doctor,doctor,50% of my fingers have fallen off.
And you can still calculate percentages.That’s a miracle.
To me it’s a catastrophe.
Don’t worry,I can reattach them if they are to hand.
What a funny way you have of talking English.
Speaking English..
Speaking,talking,uttering,muttering…I don’t get you Anglos.
I’m a Jew!
Well,you are an English Jew.You wear an English hat on your noble head with its amber eyes
And you are an English Indian.You wear an England scarf around your elegant neck!
Our Venn diagrams intersect.What a miracle!
That’s two miracles already.Before we even think about Venn diagrams.
It’s the intersection that we like…
Yes,100% of us two like them.
We agree.We beat the percentages.
The odds.
Life’s a gamble
Or a gambol?
The doctor told me I have lice.Not even nits..real lice.Still it means I won’t be alone in bed tonight.
My friend was short of money so she ate her children’s goldfish for lunch.When the kids came home she said the goldfish and ascended into heaven like Jesus.With friends like that….I feel holy.
The doctor rang up tonight.He wants me to have a Y ray.What’s a Y ray?It’s what they give you when the X rays are too expensive… they shine a light on you and demand to know Y U R ill so much!Modern speech.. it makes me sick.That;s just my diagnosis but i’ll tell the doctor to save me having a Z ray.
I guess the lice are tired so I shall take all my clothes off and do something vulgar.No,I am not posting a photo of my nude body here.Or even my nude face.If you see my beauty it may harm you by giving you lustful thoughts.Anyway now in the UK you have to have a Brazilian before you go out naked. [it means having all your body hair removed by waxing].Are women mad or what? Don’t say anything now
Doctor,I have got this awful feeling
What is it?
I feel someone is following me all day
I told you not to start blogging.How many followers have you got?
About 120.And I am following myself too.
Why did you follow yourself?
To see where I was going to.
And where was it?
I went to the bathroom.
Did you follow yourself in?
I waited outside.
That was very wise.
So why do I feel odd?
I can’t say.I’ll have to follow you too to see what I can discover.What’s the name of your blog?
How my heart speaks
That is an error.Hearts don’t speak.
It’s a metaphor.
Your trouble is you are too brilliant.You need to become dumb like the rest us
Now,that “dumb” is a metaphor.
Well,l’ll be blowed.I never knew I spoke in metaphors.I am thrilled
See… how do you feel?
Be off or I’ll follow your blog! I want to remain ignorant to all higher thinking
Call yourself a doctor?
No,I’m the technician.The doctor is sick
Well,whadda you know!The doctor is sick
He’s only human
Only human?
He’s not superman.
I don’t want superman following me.
But anybody can follow you.
What a mess.I’ll unfollow myself now and get some peace
Stan woke up with a sore throat.He had to write his wife a note.
He could not speak without much pain.
Oh,damn,he’s got a bug again!
Mary made him lemon tea.
He listened to the BBC.
He read the Guardian front to back,
Did Su doku,called the quack!
This is Dr Browne right here,
but only gurgles could he hear!
He drove straight round to visit Stan,
He felt concern for this old man!
Stan was lying in the hall.
Dr.Browne asked,Did you fall?
No,said Stan,I hate my bed.
I thought I’d lie down here instead.
It may be draughty,never mind.
Dr Browne is very kind.
What about this long settee?
It looks quite like a bed to me.
I hope you are not feeling gay!
Oh,my God.What did you say?
I mean it seems a trifle odd
I wonder if you love me, Stan?
Stan said,Doctor you’re a man!
I only love the sweeter sex!
Dr Browne looked very vexed.
You are gay.,Oh,zut alors!
Yes,but I am very chaste.
I never go below the waist.
So you just hold hands and kiss?
Yes,my man,it’s utter bliss.
But were do you meet your lovers gay?
I find them mainly on E-bay!
I place small adverts in the Times.
I joined a club for tasting wines.
Some I meet by chance alone.
Can’t you settle on just one?
I feel that lifestyle can’t go on.
But you are unfaithful to your wife?
You do not lead a saintly life!
Oh,Mary is not keen on sex,
She sits in bed and sends out texts.
Once our Lyra had been born,
She treated me with utter scorn!
Then I met my mistress Anne.
I went next door to ask for jam.
She came out and took me in.
Do you think that was a sin?
He gave Stan‘s arm a little nudge.
Don’t you want a tiny hug?
Who knows,it may scare off that bug!
So Stan and Dr Browne embraced.
I assure you it was completely chaste.
Stan went off to make hot drinks
While Dr Browne admired his Quinks.
Do you use a fountain pen?
I use my Shaeffer now and then.
I got it when I went to college.
Through that pen has passed much knowledge.
But now my mind has gone quite blank.
I’d like to be completely frank.
Was my learning utter waste?
Not at all,it kept you chaste.
While you had your head in books,
It kept attention from your looks.
But now you’re empty,Je t’adore.
With that he made for Stan’s front door.
Stan was gobsmacked by this visit.
He called to Emile:Oh,what is it?
Even though I’m 93
All I meet want to love me!
The English are mainly very queer.
Oh,said Emile,Oh,dear,dear!
How my heart sings 