If you never show affect you’re dead.
Your feelings have fearfully fled.
So smile or grimace.
You own your own face.
Except when asleep in your bed.
When you’re fast asleep nobody knows
Whence your free fantasy flows
But an observer might note
You spoke Serbo -Croat
If you lectured on war while you dozed
I once fell in love with a Scot.
He made love every hour on the dot.
When I asked for time off
He stifled his wrath.
And began to drink tea from my pot
I said,in England we drink tea from mugs.
And we keep our milk in a milk jug.
We take sugar too
If we feel super -blue.
Then we go,glug,glug,glug,glug.
Gentlemen like blondes it is said
Though I prefer jam on my bread.
Men, I adore.
Need I say more?
But now my old man is quite dead.
Belated thanks, long overdue,
Are flying from me straight to you.
So take heart and stand
but not on my hand.
Nor on Alfred who if startled goes “Mioaw”
You see Alfred is a very hot cat
He hates to sit down on my mat.
He likes my warm lap
And wears a small cap
To show he’s real holy,howzat?
Did You Know?
Long ago, there was a verb belate, which meant “to make late.” From the beginning, belate tended to mostly turn up in the form of its past participle belated. Eventually, belate itself fell out of use, leaving behind belated as an adjective that preserved the original notion of delay. As you may have guessed, belate and its descendant belated derive from the adjective late; belate was formed by simply combining the prefix be- (“to cause to be”) with late. Belated was also once used in the sense “overtaken by night,” as in “belated travelers seeking lodging for the night.” This sense was in fact the first meaning of the adjective but it too fell out of use.
Intergossips a curious word
Two parts Middle English,I read;.
Inter is between,
Is it Latin, I mean?
Intergossip’s a hybrid in thirds.
Gossip comes from God and sib in Middle English and used to mean a godparent.It did not then have a negative meaning.
Now the gossip in our little town
Makes one’s hair change from white into brown
For we gossip with love,
As in heaven above.
Soon we’ll gain fame and renown.
Dancing eyes attract men of note
Who often grand music have wrote,
If you don’t like my tenses
Pay my expenses
Just look deeper into whatever I’ve quote.
Fortune may favour the brave
But Red Indians are asleep in their graves.
These pat cute expressionss
No doubt have their lessons;
But in the main, life is how we behave.
What we pay attention to grows.
Whilst our other seeds lie here unsown.
The evil tree towers,
Over the bankers ill powers.
It’s a haven for vultures and crows.
Let us examine our gifts.
The race is not all to the swift.
We each have our talents
With patience to balance
Each life is an art made with craft
I am unsure if I’m suffering from trauma.
Or from eating a dish of beef korma.
I felt shaky all day
As if I were prey,
But the doctor says,Who’d want to harm y’?
I am unsure if I was confused
By a man whose two eyebrows were fused.
He got it in one,
By the beard was undone.
I scratched his face,just to bemuse
I guess mother feared the Old Devil
And the drunken orgies at his revels.
She warned he had hooves
And about how he moves.
Though he can seem quite charming and civil.
But it’s real men who cause us dismay
As on us sweet women, many prey.
They may fast and pray too,
And cry,How do you do?
Run from “good” ones without more delay.
For saints do not boast of their might
And how they have reached to the most dizzy heights.
They are self forgetting and plain
Use no-one for their gain.
Mostly they work out of sight
Dandelion’s good for the bladder.
And for feeding to snakes like wild adders.
If you turn yellow tonight
Tell your husband you might.
I wish I had brought a tall ladder.
I’d see you like butter in bed
As on the white sheet you are spread.
I’d make a green salad
Or write you a ballad.
Better to be yellow than dead
I’d glance into your window to see
How puzzled your partner might be.
And what will he do
With the cheese in your shoe?
I almost regret I shan’t see.
In Mexico lived a wise man
Who ate his food straight from the can.
When he was asked why
He made no reply
for he was eating some milk and All Bran.
Constipation’s a problem to men
Who only eat veg now and then.
If they have no wives
They are risking their lives
As they live on cold pies and fried hen.
Guinness has iron in the beer
Which helps the anaemic to steer.
So drive your car home
While you’re in the zone.
You really have nothing to fear.
Some men live just with a cat.
That is nothing ,as some love a bat.
But cats like to purr
As a man strokes their fur.
A poor bat can’t compete with that.
Men often live with a wife
Whom they married before they had a life.
So they cheat and conspire,
play with ice and with fire.
Till one day she gets out her knife.
Being locked in a prison’s no fun.
If only I had a re-run.
I’d pretend to know naught,
about whom he’d caught.
And find myself another hot one
I am studying poetic form.I am describing a few ideas of my interest in the next paragraph.
By choosing a limerick form I am being playful because normally I’d not choose a limerick to refer to anxiety and such emotions.And the playing itself can be therapeutic.It indicates I am like an actor on a stage having a joke with the audience.And the placement of “sure” in the last limerick is an acknowledgement that I have Celtic blood.I have kissed the Blarney stone.The Irish speak lovely English.
Do we pick a form first or the content first?
http://www.criticalreading.com/poetry.html
In general the limerick is a humorous form.That i s,both historically and by the shape and brevity.Yet I am trying to write some miserable limericks.I am finding it harder than I expected.The first one certainly has come out with more than a hint of fun
AS BROAD AS IT’S WIDE
I once had therapeutic depression
The counsellor wept through my session
So I gave my advice
As broad as it’s wise.
Depression sure beats going fishin’
OR depressed deadbeats sure love fishing
[sure here is USA]
ANXIOUS
I feel very anxious today
Would I do better to worry or to pray?
I’ll trust in the dark
in the big bush by the park.
Till a man comes along feeling gay.
I see the very nature of the form almost makes it compulsory to be funny.It’s lines 4 and 5 I think
This limerick is very naughty as “trust the darkness” is a mystical/spiritual expression… it is not related to hiding in the dark to watch for a man to come by.Even if the agent in the poem is feeling blue,the author is joking thereby.
NEW FRIEND
I hate my new friend already
I thought he would make me more steady
But I feel giddy and wild
When he charms with such guile.
Sure,doesn’t love make one feel somewhat heady
I hate writing limericks and rhymes
And I am a sadist betimes
So I inflict my terror
On short words like “error”
And always write straight off the lines
We celebrate the pagan Easter this week….
On google put “Easter” and seek.
The Passover was changed
and false worship arranged..
To make English Pagans feel bleak
A few weeks ago I wrote about my way of writing.I can add to that a few lines.I wrote this in Word online which is part of outlook..Sky drive etc.Then I copied it and put it into my other blog.When doing that I felt tempted to alter lines 4 and 5 which were
some even texted
so now i write verses which rhyme.
Then some imp got into me to change that into
some even pretexted
so now i’m perverse and pre-signed…
Every time I move some writing I want to change it and play with it. so sometimes it seems like nonsenses.Is that why some poets are thought to be crazy I wonder?
I used to like writing long poems
I loved to write free without rhymes.
But my readers objected
Some even pre-texted
So now I’m perverse and presigned.
I wonder what it’s like to be a writer
As I sit by the fire on this tomato..
I’d like to understand
where poets keep their hands
Do they grip their mind tighter and tighter
I am studying poetic forms.
http://www.criticalreading.com/poetry.htm
In general the limerick is a humorous form.That is,both historically and by the shape and brevity.Yet I am trying to write some miserable limericks.I am finding it harder than I expected.The first one certainly has come out with more than a hint of fun
AS BROAD AS IT’S WIDE
I once had therapeutic depression
The counsellor wept through my session
So I gave my advice
As broad as it’s wise.
Depression sure beats going fishin’
ANXIOUS
I feel very anxious today
Would I do better to worry or to pray?
I’ll trust in the dark
Tn the bush by the park.
Till a man comes along feeling gay.
I see the very nature of the form almost makes it compulsory to be funny.It’s lines 4 and 5 I think
NEW FRIEND
I hate my new man friend already
I thought he would make me more steady
But I feel giddy and sick
When he gives me a lick.
Such a dog’s not ideal for a lady.
Do you think philosophy’s monotonous?
Prefer an elephant to a hippopotamus?
Do not feel sad
When joy can be had
From seeing which writes are dichotomous.
Is your spelling far wurse than myne?
Are your thoughts far from sublyme?
Could Jacques Derrida spell?
Could Wittgenstein well?
Answering these questions will take up our tyme
A philosopher is a person who thinks
While she washes up at the sink.
She turns over her mind
And lets it unwind…..
She writes all her thoughts down in ink.
CAN YOU TELL LIES?
Some people can’t fantasise
I wonder if they can tell lies?
Reverie suits me…
I daydream at tea.
Maybe my followers are spies?
An old lady may love who she pleases;
And get up to some very grey wheezes.
For nobody looks
Not even the spooks..
As with a feather she tickles and teases.
But whips are considered low class.
Ladies,please let that thought pass.
A hug and a kiss
Is what lone persons miss.
So why can’t we do it en masse?
CAN YOU TELL LIES?
Some people can’t fantasise
I wonder if they can’t tell lies?
Reveries suits me…
I daydream at tea.
Maybe my best friends are spies?
Did you ever write nonsense yourself?
Did you go out dressed as an elf?
Do something odd
Just to please God.
You may have to do good by stealth.
Doing good deeds improves your immunity
From the germs in your nearest community.
So plan for tomorrow
Never to create horror
And in any case veer away from disunity
My mind is limping tonight
My kitchen’s a horrible sight
Insects abound
Mainly on the ground…
Still,most of them don’t seem to bite!
I used to like very quiet men
Who studied their Bach and knew Zen
But then you came along
Humming a song
I felt bang crash love with you then.
Eyes are important as well.
In them the soul seems to dwell.
But your eyes were so red
From the dust by the bed
That should have rung a warning bell.
For men who are allergic to dust
Have to be helped to adjust.
Expose them by degrees
Until they don’t sneeze!
Or else daily dusting’s a must
I once had a neighbor called Lumb
Who had double joints in his thumb.
They looked rather weird.
As did his beard.
Especially when filled with crumbs.
Lumb wrote lyrical poems
which left the young ladies all glowing.
He married a Rose
And as everyone knows
Her love is so deep it’s overflowing.
She has so many lovers as well
I am unsure whether I should tell.
I am not one for spying
On women who are lying
In the arms of the men they have felled
I once had a lover called Denis
Who hated both cricket and tennis
So when in our bed
We played patience instead!
So he never found out what my yen is.
My yen is to kiss for an hour
I also love gazing at flowers.
But if I am pressed
Then his arms are the best.
I hope our embrace lasts for hours.
Do you think I am very common
to write limericks and verse with men in ’em?
Well,God made me so clever
I’ve the highest IQ ever.
That includes both men and women.
So before you ask me for my favours
You need to succeed in your labors.
It’s not the money ,my dear.
I’ve enough,never fear.
But God blesses those who are Saviors
I used to have a great fear of tttttttttrembling
And prepacked fffffurniture aaaaassembling
But I read all your bbbooks
Which advised nnnnnnnnnnervous ffreaks
To leave no fffearsome tasks outstanding.
I had a dread fear of sssssshivering
And my nerves enjoyed too much qqqqquivering
But I bought your new pills
And paid all my bills
And now I enjoy my own dddddithering.
I used to fffear ssoap and water
Or giving birth to a qqqquivering daughter.
But your brilliant insights
Killed off all my frights.
But,for God’s sake,put more wine in the water.
I was never much given to boasts,
Or cooking large beef or lamb roasts
But I liked to eat men
Just now and then.
I like them with butter on toast!
I liked to eat bread and red jam
When mother ran out of her spam
So I grew very large
As big as a barge
Still I’m happy just being who I am
Are vocations still options today?
Do you get one if you never pray?
I wanted my own
But I should not moan
I find it takes me all day being gay
How my heart sings 