Her manner is rather abstract
It does not help her to show tact.
She’s in love with ideas
Yet her rents in arrears.
Let’s hope that her ship is not wrecked.
i saw the abstract for your book.
I’d love a much closer look.
I’ll invite you to tea
Then I can see
Just how discerning you look.
I suppose even Monet is abstract,
For his images with bright dots are packed.
I love them so well
As they both show and tell
Precisely what realism lacked
Flimflam’s an under used word,
As most people think it’s absurd.
But it enriches our tongue
It sings its own song.
It’s the lightest word I’ve ever heard.
But some people won’t say flimflam
Just ‘cos it rhymes with goddam.
So never say pluck,
Or you’re down on your luck.
Or the saintly will send you to spam.
I must admit I am surprised
That flimflam in a limerick’s disguised
My unconscious mind
Always manages to find
A rhyme for most words we’ve devised
A difficult word is e.g. aneurysm.
And some folk have no good manners in ’em
Don’t lose your temper
Or the aneurysm might get to you
Rudeness gives rise to despaneurysm
I wonder what rhymes with paroxysm?
There may be some words with no rhyme in ’em
Leonard Cohen hated oranges
So he put olive oil on his bed hinges.
His lover gave him a good time in .em
Freud was a deep and bright man
He invented neuroses , and wham!
We all got laid faster
by this ancient master
I came to and therefore I am.
The shadows of the past haunted Jung
As round him they oftentimes clung
When he span around
They were laid on the ground
But the mere sight of them bitterly stung.
Adler was the disciple number three
He thought power was all,don’t you see?
But he lost Freud’s hand
As it lay on the sand
If anything’s queerer, ‘snot me
Air on the skin feels so good
I’d tear off my clothes if I could
But as I am old
I am not very bold
My bikini has now got a hood
On the Sabbath we like to pray
But we’ve forgotten what phrases to say.
So we sing without words
Like a large flock of birds.
And that must suffice for today
Her brain is the size of a pea.
Her legs are like the trunks of oak trees.
Her eyes are like the oceans
Her tears make skin lotions;
I mix them with the stings from a bee.
Her smile is like daybreak at night.
She has phenomenalogical sight.
She’s an author de haute
I love toute ses mots
Existentially, this is all very trite
His head is as big as the sun
He has four eyes and they can all run.
His feet are like lead
And so is his bed.
Yet he’s quite as chaste as an old hot cross bun.
My cat is as big as lion
I call her Ms Ariel from Zion.
She bites foxes and sheep
And made a dog weep.
I am unsure if she ought to stop tryin’
Phenomenology (from Greek phainómenon “that which appears” and lógos “study”) is the philosophical study of the structures of experience and consciousness.
Phenomenology (philosophy) – Wikipedia, the free …
I was looking at a clothes catalogue just now and thought,
That’s a nice pair of gloves.
When I looked again I saw it was a party dress.
Oh,my.I must need my eyes testing.
I shall be alright as long as I don’t go out in a glove by mistake for a dress.
I went out in a mitten last night
I gave all the neighbours a fright.
They are collecting for me
To buy me some tea….
Now a tea bag would be a fine sight.
Or how about being dressed in some peel
Which off any banana I’d steal.
Then I’d give men the slip
As they slid off my hip
Some days I almost feel real.
All the winter coats are being sold off
As the autumn was not freezing or rough.
But I wear woolen vests,
Which keep off the pests.
Though men are endearingly tough.
They gave me a prick in my arm
And said I must keep it quite warm
So I fell into the fire
Oh,how I perspired…
But as usual I kept very calm
It’s meant to protect me from flu.
And vomiting string and from glue.
But it gave me diarrhea.
I can’t say cr*p here.
So please send me or email a clue.
They try to prevent us being ill.
Yet they also advise writing a will.
Do we never die?
Is this life a lie?
Of questions we all have our fill
It’s heaven on earth when we see
That I am you and you’re me.
We’re all potentially divine,
As beer is like wine…
I now believe we is a flea
Belief in the Lord has decreased
But in Satan belief has not ceased
What an anomaly!
There are many and this is the least
“Advocatus diaboli” is the devil’s advocate”,usually used metaphorically I think
I killed my own father in error
I guess I was blinded by terror.
But now I repent
And will fast all through Lent.
I have dwelt all my life in deep sorrow
My husband stole my shoes yesterday
As for his own,he’s reluctant to pay.
I hope that’s the end
I shall go round the bend
If my clothes keep on going his way.
For what will the doctors all think
If he wears underwear that’s pale pink?
He will say he’s going blind
And that was all he could find.
Then I shall observe all the gay nurses wink
I once had a cat who loved being
Her eyes were much brighter fot seeing
She foresaw the recession
Though not the depression
If only I `d heard her confession
- Motivational Monday – SMILE! (iveynutritionandwellness.wordpress.com)
- On top of the world (talkingaboutbipolar.wordpress.com)
- Smile, an Exercise (sendingjoy.wordpress.com)
I once read the lines on your face
In between each was a space
I knew what it meant:
that you were sent
to love me and to fill me with grace
I once had a boyfriend from Diss
Who was too shy to give me a kiss.
He gazed with round eyes,
Whenever I told lies
Which rather depleted my bliss.
I rarely tell lies to my lovers
As round me like birds they all hover.
I never succumb
Which makes them feel glum,…
But love is not worth all the bother.
I prefer conversation to sex
And I prefer money to cheques.
We all have our view
On what we should do.
I even prefer talking to texts