Can gimbling with me help?

So uninspired, the vivid moles did fire a thimble on the waves

So crumbly were the unbaked loaves

The home cats all strayed

Come with me my little pal, I’ll take you out and pay the knaves

My Google payment was devised

On the comb I found your waves

So definitely the PayPal loved, uncensored symbols overcame.

The term denied, it was unsafe

In the end we all were crazed.

Symbols thimbles stop and blink till men are kinder and still brave

My phone will not with contact pay

I think it’s better to pray my way.

Stephen Leacock Lewis Carroll put me in and wouldn’t borrow

My heart was filled with God’s own power

We’ll play the lame for half an hour

Stan and his ass

Stan was outside polishing both his balding his head and the brass doorstep.”My,these microfiber cloths are wonderful” he thought joyfully.Mary was out taking a large bag of unneeded clothes to the Oxfam Charity Shop.Thank God!,thought Stan…that wardrobe is going to burst one day and spray her clothes all over the room like …what? Not cannon balls,maybe like the ghosts of dead giant sized bats!

Suddenly he heard a loud cry and then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head.

“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.

“Just give me a hand” ,he said,”I’ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”

“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a tender slap.

“For Pete‘s sake,Annie” he shouted turbulently.

“Someone might see that.”

“Don’t worry,there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered.

“I can’t help it anyway.I just love your ass.That’s what women like.”

“Do you normally slap the things you love?” Stan enquired politely yet firmly….what next?

“And furthermore “ass” is an American expression.

“Well,I’ve always been fond of Americans,”she whispered naughtily.

Stan recalled that her son had borne a strong resemblance to Bill Clinton but refrained from mentioning this.Anway Annie had never been to Oxford,as far as he knew and Clinton was only there for a year…though a man could father many children in a year as the terms at Oxford were only eight weeks long… leaving 28 weeks vacation.

“What do you think of my ass?” she murmered humorously.

“I’d rather have a donkey.” he said childishly.

“I could ride on it into the town.”

“You are so horrible,Stan.You never pass any jocular yet charming remarks about my body.”

“I never knew you lacked confidence in that department,” he said peevishly.

“Besides,you know I prefer to show my feelings non verbally!

With that he pretended to kick Annie on the butt with his Hotter laced up shoes.

“Now then,what’s going on here.You seem like a couple of teenagers!”

It was Dave,the paramedic.

He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three bins standing plaintively in the tiny front garden, where once fragrant red roses had bloomed in summer and scratched people with their thorns all the rest of the year.

“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”

“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan proudly.

“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,

“Jesus Christ!”,said Stan.

“Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name,

“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog!”

“Stan Tan!”

Dave appeared crestfallen,

“Any chairs need mending today?”

“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,”he said to Annie,

“They look like sea shells,”

“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.

“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently.

“And how about my ass?”

“I never knew you had an ass.Is it in the back garden?

I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Bhuddist”

“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.

“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.

Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.”

“Mistakes don’t matter” he continued wildly his eyes gleaming like the preacher’s at Hyde Park Corner

“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’Oreal of Paris and New York

“As I was saying..,”

“Dingle,dongle,dingle,dongle”…

Emile the cat ran out expectantly,knowing the sound of a human imitating a bicycle bell.He was already salivating expectantly.

Dave dived back behind the wheelie bins.

Stan polished the brass step and Annie disappeared in a puff of smoke.

It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them all to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop,fortunately.

In fact Mary knew everything but didn’t want them to know she knew,for if she knew and they knew she knew,she knew it would make life too complex.she just knew it,for sure.I know she knew,though she doesn’t know that I knew.

“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of the poet Emily Dickinson named

“A loaded gun.”

He had thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter!

Or do they?

Read the next instalment yesterday at your local newsagent,free at the point of service just like the NHS and watch your ass as you never know who else is watching it.Though as you will never know,this fact will never impinge on you.Though you may feel a kind of tingling sometimes…

You know it makes sense!Sometimes,at least.

I have had to imitate a bicycle bell all my life till now….I have real bell on my bike..how cool is that?

Annie breaks into Stan’s sacred space (wordscat.wordpress.com)
Stan teaches a class a sense of proportion (wordscat.wordpress.com)

Annie breaks into Stan’s sacred space

Stan was polishing the windows again with his big microfibre cloth.The computer was on.As soon as he finished the sitting room windows he planned to look at a google document he was co-writing with hislfriend Annie, on the failings of the British Empire..She only lived next door but they both liked sharing new techniques of various kinds.
He sat down in front of his computer and looked at his email.
There was one from Annie.

“Hi Stan
I didn’t really want to keep some of those remarks you wrote at the bottom of our document when we were both online,so I have deleted them. We should have gone into chat mode.They were not related to the topic we were discussing so I know you won’t be mind.And if you ask again we can chat either online or in person about sex and people’s lives
With my love,dearest one ,Annie

Stan felt furiously angry and cross. How could she know if he minded or not?
He went dark red as if his head was bursting.What was so dreadful about his remarks?He had only asked Annie if her dead husband George might have been bisexual.Stan had once seen him kissing another man in the bushes in the park.Annie didn’t seem bothered last night.She never gave the impression to me she didn’t like it.Maybe she’s not quick enough to react
Anyway she should not have deleted it completely without asking me first.
He sat down on his old Habitat chair [recently mended free on the NHS by Dave the paramedic,] and he sent her an email saying he was furious with her for attacking his freedom of speech.It was unethical.It .He must assert himself.He would show her!
So he was not going to work with her on any more documents ever again nor chat on IM or Google Chat. Of course he still loved her but his anger was too strong for him to ignore.

When Annie got the email she was completely stunned like a cow ready to be e.She apologized to Stan immediately but he refused to accept it ever even though she begged piteously for forgiveness.
Why did he want to know if George was bisexual, she wondered.Was he saying it to try to turn himself on or me? Or is he just interested in all different kinds of sex and human behavior generally ,like most people are ?But it was not concerned with the document which was about ill treatment of prisoners in India under the British Empire and relating it to other acts of outrage by the British Government elsewhere.
I wanted to talk about us,not poor dead George.Whatever George’s sex life,he’s dead now.So l we should leave him in peace.
Meantime.Stan was thinking about how women were always interfering in his life,correcting him and improving his grammar.Making him cups of tea when he wanted brandy and some HP sauce with his lamb chops not salad
He liked talking about bisexuality.It made him feel a sense of wonder at the differing habits and desires of humans.Why couldn’t she just go along with it or at least say something then rather than deleting his words secretly when he was off-line?Though maybe mentioning George was insensitive even though George was dead.
He was a man .He was not going to let a woman ride over him like a steam roller. Annie must learn her place in the scheme of things.

Where is that,asked his beautiful tom cat Emile.
I’m not sure but it’s not above me.It’s either the same or lower.
Can’t you forgive her.She may be in another dimension,another space altogether,another universe of discourse?[He’d been reading his Wittgenstein again]
Certainly not .No way.Stan answered,
But you love her,you said many times in here.I heard you
All the more reason to maintain some boundaries. Love is not the be all and end all of life for a man!
Next she’ll be cutting bits off me with her dressmaking shears,he cried in outrage and horror!
She’ll castrate me.She’ll turn me into a woman.

She won’t,she’s just a daft postmenopausal woman,said Emile.She wouldn’t ever harm you.she’s very gentle.you know that,don’t you?
She has invaded me,she has crossed my boundary.
Some people would be glad,mewed the cat.He was always hoping a lady cat would come by. and cross his boundaries or more correctly.he would be allowed cross hers.
Meanwhile Annie was sitting sobbing feverishly in her bedroom.She really enjoyed co-writing documents and news sheets with Stan.Now he won’t do it any more, she whispered . He was really mad with her.He must be feeling upset and aggravated beyond all human endurance.She had assumed too much and now she was paying the price as she lay on her purple duvet cover with two boxes of Kleenex for men.Even finding the Kleenex required for all her sobbing was too much for her.

She cried and sobbed loudly for a while.Her eyes were bright red and bloodshot. She was so very sad she had unwittingly distressed dear Stan.Life is so tough she thought reluctantly.I wish I were somewhere else……maybe in Heaven with George and his bisexual lovers beside all playing harps or mouth organs and whatever else the could find up there.
Still,there were those new neighbours who had just moved in across the road.Two brothers,both very handsome.I wonder if they like writing on the computer,she thought.That cheered her up a bit,though she was very fond of Stan.In fact she loved him greatly and had kissed him many times though she had never actually gone to bed with him ;never known him in the biblical sense.Was that the problem?Too late now either way,she muttered quietly to her goldfish Wayne who agreed with her analysis of the situation .
So in her mind she was moving from loving and adoring Stan to being loving towards yet puzzled by him.Was he afraid of being dominated by a woman?What would he be like as a lover?

But why try to talk about bisexuality?Could he not have thought of something else?Like female orgasms or kissing better?
There was a new book by Betty Dodson teaching frozen women how to have orgasms.Would he have enjoyed discussing female anatomy and pleasuring her naked female body and all the rest.
Well,she would never know now.That was certain.Thank God I’ve found out what he’s like before things went any further.He might be a little too dominating.Though a certain amount is necessary for the consummation of love.She was so upset her thoughts began to turn towards women.
Would it be better all round to love a woman instead?Especially as I could show her how to have an orgasm having being studying this book for some weeks?Though she may already know,I guess.Still,a change is as good as a rest, so the proverb says.
How do I find a woman who’s into other woman, as it were, she thought.Can I find one on the internet?Will there be a club we can go to? How exciting!
So Annie grew more optimistic.A woman wouldn’t mind a few words deleted from a chat either.So a feeling of mild joy came over her and her sobbing died down.

Stan was sitting in his kitchen feeling superior and dominant.Except Annie had not come for coffee so it was hard being dominant all by himself.He began to feel depressed and morose.Should he change his mind?Would he lose his window of opportunity?
Why is life so trying.Why are women so manipulative, why do they all turn out fakes and bitches,he asked Emile.Why won’t they love me as I am?
It’s partly one’s own character,Emile replied.
Hearing this Stan lost his temper and threw the kettle of boiling water at Emile.Luckily it missed but Emile stalked out and went off to the shed leaving Stan more alone than ever.
How hard life is Stan shouted. I feel like topping myself. I”ll jump off the roof. of the civic center.I’m going to ring the f*****g Samaritans.
Just then his wife Mary walked in.What’s up Stan?
Nothing dear.I just dropped a brick on my toe
Why have you got a brick in here,in the lounge?
I was playing with it.
With a brick?
Well,it has a certain cold masculinity,he replied assertively
Cold masculinity?. Shall I make some drinks? Mary asked tenderly
Yes,please,dear,very kind
Oh,look there’s Annie walking past arm in arm with a woman.
I knew George was bisexual but now I see she is also or maybe she’s turned quite gay!Were they both gay?
Well,it’s not our business,said Mary quietly.
Aha,thought Stan.That’s what you think.If only you could see inside my mind!Inside his mind though ,he was wondering if Annie would ever see him again.But I will not forgive her,I won’t.I won’t!
What he might have said more truthfully was “Can’t”
For indeed,it is hard to forgive people for trampling into one’s sacred space even if it is an accident or misjudgment not a deliberate attempt to dominate.but …….
Life is sweet and yet very hard too for all of us but forgiveness helps

Kleenex logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Stan teaches a class a sense of proportion (wordscat.wordpress.com)
Killer of Sheep (Charles Burnett, 1977) (oldrockinchair.wordpress.com)

Stan’s mind starts to wander

Stan put on his hat and went down the spring green garden where a blackbird trilled.The sunlight was very strong,almost glaring in intensity.That’s an interesting word,more commonly used to describe the angry expression on the face of an adult who believed he is a position of power,he thought.
It pains most people to be glared at, he reminded himself.
Stan’s wife Mary had a habit of humming or even singing as she went about her day at work or home.Usually sshe didn’t realise!
He recalled the day she came home from her Art Class to amuse him with a tale of a very wealthy and dominating lady who had suddenly glared at Maru and shrieked,
Is there something wrong with you?
Mary said,
Yes, there is actually. but I don’t usually talk about it except with the doctors.
Why not ? shrieked the woman nastily in her dominatrix style
Well,I thought it might upset folk to hear I am terminally ill but in your case I’ll make an exception.
Well,I don’t give a f*ck, you are annoying, me was the reply that she received.
Even if you are dying right now that is no excuse for humming in the class.
Well,said the teacher,I always thought you were a very superior person,Nancy,but now I hear you insulting my newest pupil in public I believe I was mistaken.
Oh,Mary had told Stan, it seems that humming” Neasden” in the class, albeit unconsciously. is far worse than to be seriously ill.
There is no sense of proportion now…surely anyone can see there is no comparison though I prefer hearing the Trout Quintet,myself,he had told her
Fortunately Mary’s illness had been completely cured by a new drug and she was able to continue her Art and riding her bicycle.Nancy was too proud to apologise but after hearing Mary was going to recover completely she had offered her a quarter of a broken chocolate biscuit at coffee time.
You are too thin, she admonished Mary,but I have come to like your humming and am even thinking of trying it myself.How do you do it?
I can’t say,Mary answered,it just happens.
I see,said Nancy.Perhaps I’ll go to a singing teacher.
I hope she does instead of coming here,Mary thought as she still glares at me wherever I sit.She’s a bit like those pictures of Saints whose eyes seem to be on you and follow you wherever you sit in the room in a judgmental way.
Stan’s mind was wandering as he gazed over his fence.He remembered when he first met Mary when her bicycle had been stolen from outside a Public Library and he had helped her to look for it.In fact it was he who had stolen it in order to have an excuse to speak to her.How singularly blue her eyes were when she smiled graciously at any man nearby.As her conscious mind was on a branch of mathematics it left her unconscious free to seek what it desired free of all constraints thus causing mayhem until June when term ended and only the ancient postgraduates were left in the deserted city free to play with non-linear diffferential equations all day blong

At random

A friend told me that about 3 weeks after my husband died I would get men coming to the door asking if I wanted to sleep with them.So far I’ve only had

1.A pizza deliverer who rang the wrong bell

2.A Thames water engineer to give me a new head for the shower and to quizz me on my use of water.

3.An Amazon delivery of a Japanese maple tree.

4 A letter telling me that my husband owes them one week of his pension since he died at 2.30 pm on the day it was paid.Well,they can go to Hell… maybe they’ll get it there!

5.A woman trying to convert me to be a Mormon.I said I was already a Catholic but they don’t mind.So then I said I am an agnostic so she asked me how to spell it.Then I passed out and when I came round a man was staring at me.He was a paramedic from down the road.

6.A man collecting money for lepers… not very convincing.

Anyway,why would I want to make love with a complete stranger when I can do it with someone I adore.,… namely,myself!It’s less dangerous too and less immoral as you are not leadinf a man into sin are you? Or a woman either.Can you lead yourself into sin,I wonder,Ask a Jesuit.. they usually know all the answers.I know men can’t spill their seeds according to the Bible but can we women lay our eggs at random?

Did he like his dinner?

I asked my husband if he liked his dinner and he went
Call that a dinner?
So I said,What do you mean?
He said,where’s the bloody mustard?
I said I don’t know but the Colman’s is on the table.You’ll have to wait till next week if you want the bloody type.
Unless I cut my finger and let some drip onto your meat.
He said,you know I like it rare.
So I said,I don’t know if mine’s rare but it’s all my own.
Then a loud voice said,No it’s not!
O.M.G I cried.
So he said, what?
I said,send me some salt and vinegar crisps.Then thousands fell from the sky and I’ve never prayed since.I’ve been too busy eating them all to replace the salt I loose in sweating heavily in night clubs and dens of iniquity.I know I shouldn.t go but Satan is so tempting I can’t say No in case he attacks me with his fork or is that Neptune?
It’s a queer world

The pirhana monologues

Hello,can you put me through to the vulva clinic?
We have no vulgar clinics here.
I said vulva
Oh, the valve clinic?
Not heart valves…
What tyre valves?
Surely you don’t treat bikes?
I run a little business on the side.
I have a little vulva right in the middle and I want to speak to the clinic.
Vulva is a very rude word.
Worse than shit?
Well. it depends on what scale of measurement you use
Like nominal,ordinal,interval or ratio?
I suppose it must be nominal.Like some privileges
We need to weigh our words then we can use a ratio scale like the scale of measurement for height…
But nobody is of zero height!
You don’t know.They could be here but we can’t see them except as marks on the floor…
So vacuuming is cruel as these folk of zero height would get sucked up.
There’s no way of falsifying it.
There’s no way of verifying it…
So it’s not rocket science.
It’s not rude.
Anyway there’s a play called the Vagina Monologues.
If they called it the Vulva Monologues it could sound like vulgar.
How about the Diviner Monologues?
Sounds good to me…
Regina,diviner,vagina,pirhana.,… where are ye?
Some men there are teeth in there that will bite off their penis…
You have to laugh or else you’d cry.
BTW what is that vulva number?
It’s in the maternity unit,as was.
Well put me through
OK no need to get aeriated.Live and let live…
It’s all nominal on the end

Stan gets visited by two lovely ladies

Stan was standing on a small step ladder washing his windows yet again with a clean blue microfibreand elastane cloth and some windolene he had bought in Tesco’s
I don’t know why I bother,he whispered to Emile, who as usual was watching from the back of the sofa,which he was “milking” gently with his paws.
With all the rain,the outside of the windows was besmirched by leaves and bits of mud.A wiser man might have left it alone but Stan had O.C.D which made him very jumpy if he failed to carry out certain tasks… so he made use of it in house chores and baking perfect cakes and buns..and in taking snaps of frogs,birds and flowers.Mental disorder can be useful sometimes.
All of a sudden he heard clattering footsteps…
Up the garden path walked two women dressed in the latest style of 3/4 length silk cargo trousers with matching blouses, all in a subtle shade of violet.Except for their faces,of course,which were both a light shade of beige and they had Revlon peach blusher on their cheeks and Chanel scarlet lipstick…on their lips.They also wore dark blue nail varnish from Rimmel
“Good morning,Stan!” called one of them.”We are Anne‘s cousins from Pittsburgh.She told us to call on you today.”
“Well,I never knew wearing expensive makeup ran in the genes… can there be any other explanation?”Stan cried.
“Anne told us we must wear it all the time in the UK.”
she responded,”even in bed.”
“You seem a bit fast,” he answered,
“I’m not sure I want to go to bed and as you seem like identical twins,which of you should I bed?”
They burst out laughing….oh,what a noise!
“I was just saying what she told us,not meaning that you need to go to bed with us.In fact, we sleep together at night.”
“As children that would be normal,but don’t you think you should separate now?People might think you are gay!”
“We never worry about stuff like that… and by the way,this is Ruby and I am Rosie.”
“I’ll put on the kettle and make you some coffee,” the dear man said in a kind tone of voice,before he went into the kitchen and swallowed a handful of red and green striped valium tablets.
“I wish the psychiatrist would give me some therapy.I don’t like taking valium but I seem to be having visions again… and I don’t want to get worse..I never heard Anne mention cousins in the USA. I wonder if CBT would help me?”he said to Emile.
“I see visions all the time,” the cat replied in a matter of fact and calm way.
“Do they not make you feel anxious?”Stan called.
“No,I just watch them drift by,” purred Emile.”I enjoy them.”
“I wish these two women would drift off.”responded the weary yet charming old man.Ruby and Rosie came inside and admired the kitchen where colanders in many colours hung from the wall into which someone had knocked a few dozen nails.
“”Why do you have sixteen colanders?”asked Rosie.
“Why do you think everything has a reason?”Stan replied.
“I can see you studied philosophy,” Ruby cried disconsolately.
“No,I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily.
“Wow,is it not boring?”
“No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things,”
Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over unconsciously
.Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty key pad and texted 999.
“Why are you texting?”asked Ruby.
“Well,it difficult to mioaw down a phone and now I have this Blackberry it’s so easy…. why even a mouse could do it.”
“Do you know many mice,Emile?” enquired Ruby wistfully
Rosie slowly made some instant coffee, walking around poor Stan ,unconscious on the floor…and she and her twin sat down on some white Swedish chairs at the old oak table and drank it,gazing shyly at the huge weigelia blooming outside in the shed.
The front door opened and in ran Dave,the bisexual paramedic.
“Is it you,Emile.Have you lost your hankie again.Are you sad?” he moaned nervously.
“No,it’s Stan… but at least he’s not broken the chair”
Stan came too and looked up…
“Oh, lovely,I feel much better for that nap” he said brightly.
“Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?” said Ruby querulously.”I like your mean expression,my dear man.”
“Now,look here said Stan,”I’m too old for any monkey business.
Besides,I don’t know if you are real.”
“We just wondered why you slept on the floor.”
“A man has to do what a man has to do,” came the mystifying response.
“Now that Dave is here,he can take one of you and I’ll take the other.”
“Where will you take us”the twins asked delightfully….
“Do you fancy the cinema… they are showing Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday”
“Don’t tell me he’s still on his summer holiday!” riposted Ruby
“Let’s go in the ambulance.I’ll lie on the stretcher” offered Rosie generously..
“I’ll lie by you,”said Dave.” and Emile can drive.Stan and Ruby can lie on the floor.”
Sometimes life seems so simple,it’s rather like a dream controlled..
Controlled by what,asked Emile,clutching his Blackberry.
But answer came there none…
And that was very odd because.. they’d vanished every one…
To read more,why not take out a subscription?At just £100 a day,it’s value for money…as money no longer has any value!

Life or else

He loves me more than his wife herself

he loves me as much as if I were his own voter

He says he loves me and needs to rewire me.

He is burning with a liar whiter than the sun.

Am I his bete amoureuse or do I fail to blunderstand French.

In my end is my beginning

We were both staring at what was hurting our shared boundary.

What we had in common was a pasting of grammar and some full stops from the old church organ..

not much help to a pair of old fools.

especially when it was just a mouth organ from a bizarre barre ballet shop in Covent Garden

We were speechless like a pair of cowardly sheep up a mountain in Wales

.Not a baaa baaa between us.

Up till then nothing had come between us except rhymes or reams of blotting paper

Well,there is a saying:neither rhyme nor reason and we certainly had no reason….

I’m only teasing.

We were as irrational as the square root of two.i.e.rational in the wrong sort of way.

Unexpected, like almost everything in this life, but full of seasoning.

Rationality was initially based on proportion then subsequently on distortion

and later contortion into the field of the imaginary

.Everything is imaginary … that’s oblivious to me, anyway.

And everything is abstract too.

Except lions in the zoo and me and you.

Shall we call it a day now?

I am happy with my sentence of a week in the wilderness.

Call that a sentence?

No arguing, as you may be persecuted and scolded at an auction sale.

And that is only the end of it all.. we lost the beginning in the womb of time.

Well,may be you can remember In my end is my beginning

For all ,Cat licked every tear…

Ray Queers cat’s in parquet.
They are waiting for our partitions.
Say but the word and my sole shall be heeled.
Guarded the angels from seven sodomites.
Hail glorious St Hat Trick.
Lord, it’s hearsay.
Lord, I’m worser
Forgive all dear trespassers.
Blessed is the foot of thy broom.
Pay for us now and the whore at our death.
I believe in none,God.
The communion of taints.
But Joseph had a bee.
Jesus wants me for his bathroom.
The Ten Demanding Torments are here.
Have you paid your wrecks yet?
For all the saints who laboured at their tests
For all the painted ghosts
Remember man thy tart is bust
Ash to ash,dust if you must
For give us an hour’s trespassing and we shall be in heaven already.
Please do as you would have fun by

Thank you too much for the fight

I say,dear,this bed is quite right.

Do you mean that itn dreams we fly kites?

You’re so clever you will soon be too bright.

Why,thank you so much,when’s your flight?

Can’t I stay here for our fight?

I have no clean pants to incite

I lust for your tender Goodnight.

Some folk can hide in plain sight.i

Don’t roll your eyes when they are bright.

Arthritis gives chastity frights

His heart failed but he functioned,well ,,quite.

Her heart pains gave thrills to their rites

They died but said heaven’s alright

In the bread basket with Moses

Moses was an Eruption, I hear.So he had to be kept warm in a bread basket.
Then Foureyes daughter let him gloat down on the River Nile…till a bull rushed him.
That turned him into a shrew and he found God.. or God found him.
But God would not let him find Galilee by himself so he found Emilee ,Loelee and Phoebilee instead.
He had many children such as Matthew,Hark,Look and Gone.They were all men and had more children with no wives.They didn’t have any women so who did Cain and Abel marry?Eve?
Is this what Freud never realized… men used to marry their mothers and later their daughters who were also their sisters,Crikey,what a blunder
Blimey what is this Hebrew Bible?Libel?
As we were taught in school, Daniel lived with a lion and a lamb.I’m unsure if they had children…. it might explain a lot if they did.
And finally Solomon was very wise.It was easier then when there was no judge or jury to stop him cutting a baby in two… well, he was just pretending,I think.
I say,the Shrews were very shrewd indeed and also very clever.Like, who told Adam and Eve what to do before Masters and Johnson wrote that book.. Human Textual despondency?
In any case Adam could not read.In fact they didn’t write either.And to think children here can write so young.Adam and Eve were a bit lacking but they have lots of family
Everybody on Earth… pity they are dead and can’t see us though God knows they’d be shocked if they saw our behaviour to our family.
I blame the apples,myself… what do you think?

I wore a mitten

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.

Stan has a perplexing day

[Image by my sister]

Ruby and Rosie came inside and admired the kitchen where colanders in many colours hung from the wall into which someone had knocked a few dozen nails.
“”Why do you have sixteen colanders?”asked Rosie.
“Why do you think everything has a reason?”Stan replied.
“I can see you studied philosophy,” Ruby cried disconsolately as she loved an argument
“No,I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily.
“Wow,is it not boring?” they murmured softly like two doves in spring time
“No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things,”
Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over. unconscious.
.Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty key pad and texted 999.
“Why are you texting?”asked Ruby.
“Well,it difficult to mioaw down a phone and now I have this Blackberry it’s so easy…. why even a mouse could do it.”
“Do you know many mice,Emile?” enquired Ruby wistfully as she felt very lonely at times
Rosie slowly made some instant coffee, walking around poor Stan ,unconscious on the floor…and she and her twin sat down on some white Swedish chairs at the old oak table and drank it,gazing shyly at the huge weigelia blooming outside in the shed.
The front door opened and in ran Dave,the bisexual paramedic.
“Is it you,Emile.Have you lost your hankie again.Are you sad?” he moaned nervously.
“No,it’s Stan… but at least he’s not broken the chair”
Stan came too and looked up. at Dave.
“Oh, lovely,I feel much better for that nap” he said brightly as he was such a positive person..
“Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?” said Ruby querulously.”I like your mean expression,my dear man.”
“Now,look here said Stan,”I’m too old for any monkey business. Besides,I don’t know if you are real.”
“We just wondered why you slept on the floor.”
“A man has to do what a man has to do,” came the mystifying response.
“Now that Dave is here,he can take one of you and I’ll take the other.”
“Where will you take us”the twins asked delightedly.
“Do you fancy the cinema… they are showing Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday”
“Don’t tell me he’s still on his summer holiday!” riposted Ruby
“Let’s go in the ambulance.I’ll lie on the stretcher” offered Rosie generously..
“I’ll lie by you,”said Dave.” and Emile can drive.Stan and Ruby can lie on the floor.”
Sometimes life seems so simple,it’s rather like a dream controlled..
Controlled by what,asked Emile,clutching his Blackberry.
But answer came there none…
And that was very odd because.. they’d vanished every one…
To read more,why not take out a subscription?At just £100 a day,it’s value for money…as money no longer has any value!

The why of the house

The phrase “the window of opportunity” seems not wholly satisfactory
Admittedly you can see through a window unless you have thick net curtains but how many of us would be able to leap out of the window and seize the opportunity by the throat,if you see what I mean? And if you were in the attic you’d be dead before you got there…so what we need are “doors of opportunity”

The problem with that is you can’s see through a door unless it’s either got a window or is a glass door..So if you want success try living outside in a transparent tent where nothing will get in your way if anything passes by and your will get free publicity
I expect the phrase was made up by someone who writes speeches for politicians.
If you want a to succeed you must grasp the windows of opportunity as they go by and squeeze every last drop of rum out of them [try the tygers of wrath too]
She was only a little window but she was the window for me
Do not ask what your windows can do for you but what you can do for your windows.
Look through the windows and seize the day.Unless it’s a dark night in which case visit a brothel if they have windows
And one day all our children will be able to choose their own windows..red,yellow ,……………..mix your own…..free windows ..
Windows are the eyes of the house
Don’t be shy if opportunity peeks into your window.Peek right back at it…
Ich bin ein Window! Moi aussi.Ma femme!
Where is she now, the rich widow of my opportunity?
To look or not to look.Out of a selection
Never close the door in case someone wealthy passes by on the other side.and merely glances at your window.
Now is the Window of our discontent made gloriously plumper with our sunny walk
One good window deserves another.
I’ll be your window, if you open your door
Windows,they ought to be taxed I say.
Windows.. they give you an illusion of being in the sun but did you know we can see in…and we saw you and the mirror on your ceiling…anything to say in your pretence?

I am divorced again

K I’m

My computer has left me for another lap

So it seems

And a tablet is not enough

So I am selling .my brain on wee bay.

And my new boyfriend will think for me.

Does it irk you?

It will. be a break with fem

Inist values

But my head is too full

Feeling blorgy

If you store plenty of words in a word freezer you will be able to write a poem or letter very rapidly.Alternatively,you can store some dried words in polythene bags in a cupboard and add some moisture like tears to them when you want to write.This gives you some information about our era; that we spend time now,preparing for a fictive future and if you do store words they may be out of date before you use them.
The best way to always have words at hand is to read a lot of novels and poems.Even reading newspapers can teach you new words.
You don’t need to make an effort to recall them.Your mind will remember the ones that are for you.
You might try inventing words.I have done that but I’ve not kept a list.Sometimes it’s for fun; sometimes it’s to fill a space..
I am feeling blorgy today.. I feel like writing a blog with a guy but could also mean having a blog orgy…. could we do that?
We did have a blog tea party once but having an orgy could be tough at a distance…Still,who knows? Keep me informed,please.
You recall a song,feeling groovy.. well put blorgy instead of groovy!

A worm in therapy and other Freudian notions

The psychoanalysis of a worm

Wisteria aided by worms

Blossom in September

I was planning to make a carrot cake till my mother told me:

Carrots don’t eat cake.What are carrots anyway? Why are they so picky?I have to eat all my food or I get punished by hunger pains.Are there worms inside me eating my food or biting me?Do worms have teeth?What is it they like about soil.
Charles Darwin wrote a book about worms…

So far I have not read it.

Worms are the opposite of us.

They never get angry or depressed as far as we can tell..

How fortunate as to psychoanalyze a worm would be hard.

Indeed could you tell a worm to lie on the sofa

Or would you have to climb inside a plant pot next to the worm?

As Wittgenstein might have said,

If worms could speak we would not understand what they said.

I don’t know,I think I can guess though…

I have some experience …symbolically that is.

Or is it metaphorically?

Imagine a worm on your couch.

Hmm,how are things going?

Yurp,blurp!

Well,that’s good.

Werp,serp!

Quite right,I am interfering with your transfernce.

Hurpppppppp.

Would you like a little soil?

Mummmm

Oh,dear…I should not have offered you anything.

Daddddddd.

Surely you don’t remember him?

Herrrrrrrr.

So your dad was a lady?

Oh ,ahhh!

Well,it takes all sorts.

Glumb,glomb.

I’m afraid your time is up.

Tinnnnnggggggggg

You want a minicab?

Taaaaaaaaaaaaa.

That’s £500

Do you take plastic?

No,only notes.

Doh,ray,me

I never knew worms could sing…

Well,you do now.

Habberfrocky

With apologies to Lewis Carroll and his fans including me

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171647

‘Twas feelring ,and the grimy stoats
Said,wire a bumble to the knave.
All grimly were tomorrows moaned
And the thrown graphs stones were paved.

Beware the fabled cheesy scone
The laws so trite,the flaws per batch.
Beware the run up blurb and bun
The floor left on the latch.

He spank abnormal words in hand.
Wrong rhymes the grandsons wrote.
They arrested me by the pillow flea
With irony they bought.

And as in his British thought he would
Meet catwalks filled with eyes of glame
He rifled through my saddled frogs

Until spears brought me frame

Uno duo. uno dua
The awful spade bent thick as flak.
He raised the dead without their heads
Then froze the buffalo’s back.

Oh,was it pain,to write and schlock?
Give me those larns my Flemish buoy.
Oh,captchas day,hullo,oy vey!
He smarkled faux de roi.

‘Twas spellig and the grimy stoats
Said,fire a grumble on the waves.
All grimly were tomorrows moaned
And the grown graphs growths were grave.

No fact or reason here.. just disorder

I can’t get married because I have an irritable boundary.
I also have newly mowed arthritis.
My eyes are cross mostly.
I have severe chronic metal fatigue.
I can’t spell eether.
Don’t propose rudeness as I have an irritable reaching after tact.
If I am engaged please go next door and make free with any one you fancy.
I have had panic ,manic and antibiotic attacks.
The doctor said I had new mown hay here ahaaaaa last week.Men!
My boundary is a of a new type… it’s armed and has a elastic aerodrome on a string.

Love in Starbuck’s and the sequel

Anita was sitttng in Starbucks drinking cafe latte.She gazed blankly out of the window until her eye fell on a handsome man passing by.Thud!She ran out to retrieve her big blue eye and put it back into its placeAre you ok,the man enquired suavely.Yes,I am fine she said. calmly yet thrillinglyAre you doing anything tonight?

Only washing my eyes,she answered succintly, But it won’t take me long.

Would you like to have a meal with me?

She gazed pensively at his dark and mobile features.

I’ve not been to McDonald’s ever ,she whispered.

Very wise,I suggest that new Chinese place by the library.See you at 7 pm.I’m Tom.

Anita didn’t even know his full name but she was very keen to meet more men as she was 39 She went home and finished reading,”The Art of Loving” by Erich Fromm. should I also read .”The Joy of Sex” she ponderedor is it better to wait for it to happen and learn as you go?Besides she diddn’t yet know and love Tom though he looked beguiling. Then she wondered what they might talk about. so she watched a precis of the news. and washed her hair with a new shampoo.Oh, she realised it was for leopards but it seemed to do wonders for her golden locks. What to wear?That was not a problem.She only owned one dress.It was amethyst coloured and had a wrapover front,the style which is attributed to Diane von Furtensburg though it was known in ancient Greece.Socrates may have worn one Anita had got hers from “Lands End” for £13 in a sale.It was a little clingy but she had a most beautiful figure.Or should she wear a pashmina to hide her curves? I don’t know Tom yet she thoughtWhen she arrived in black jeans and a white Tshirt toppped by a beige trenchcoatthere was her beau wearing identical clothes.~And his hair was the same colour as hers.

What sort of shampoo do you use,? she whispered seductively

Why,I use one for leopards.I bought it at the vets.

Wow,I have the same one.Do you think we are two persons who may share a soul as well?

I’m not sure,but I’ll share a Dover sole with you.

Do Chinese restaurants sell fish?

I’ll ask.

Do you do fish?

Of course the food is fresh.

Tom gave up and went back to Anita.

Where do you work?

I’m in the Foreign Office.

Are you a spy?

No,I’m a linguist.I speak seven languages.

How useful.But it would be good for a spy too to know many languages

What do you do?

I’m in the Home Office.

What exactly do you do?

I’m a translator,Glaswegian to English and suchlike,dialects and accents

Wow, we do similar things.

They gazed furtively into each other eyes.

Do you come here often.?

No,not really but I’d love to meet you again.

Why,thank you.would you like to come back for coffee.

Where do you live?

Just across the road in that new block of luxury flats near the train station.

OK,I’ll come.then.I live here over the restaurant.How convenient.How central.how residential.What potential They went into her flat and fell over the cat which was asleep in the hall.

What’s her name?

Apassionata Sonata!

That’s unusual.

I call her Pashy for short.

Not so good for shouting out if she’s in the garden.

They sat down demurely on the mauve and pink sofa.

Where do you get your jeans from?

I got these from Gap but sometimes I get them from Topman

Oh,I got mine from Poetry by mail order

They are very atttractive on you.Or more correctly You look most attractive in them

Thank you.

May I caress your supine flesh?

Please do.How polite you are.

Where shall I start?

At the beginning

I don’t know your beginning.

Well,just guess.

He took her tapered hand and licked it with his tongue.Then he licked her lips.He could taste the sole.

Pass the salt please,he quipped. as he bit her ear lobe gently.

A tear of joy ran down her cheek and Tom licked it off very sensually.

How delicious, he muttered

You are so funny, Tom,she cried.I love you already.

Do you like being tickled anywhere and everywhere ?

No, but in your case I’ll make an exception.

Just then the doorbell rang loudly Anita opened the door of her flat as Tom hid behind the sofa with his jeans

and T shirt..

Hello,darling.Why are you in your underwear?

Hello,Mummy.I was feeling so hot!

Is that your wedding day underwear ?

Yes,Mummy,but since I’m now 39 years old I decided to begin wearing it.

Oh dear ,Anita,Are you giving up hope of romance?

No,she’s not!,cried Tom springing up from the back of the sofa wearing only underpants and a vest.

I was just about to propose but Anita wanted my view on her underwear and I wanted to show her mine.

Hello,I’m Mary.I love your underwear.Is it all silk?

Yes,it is ,said Tom,it’s very comfortable. Still thus clad he knelt down and propesed to Anita.He said she should save her golden underwear for their honeymoon and gave her an amethyst ring for their engagement.

How romantic ,said Mary as they both got dressed. I never expected to be present to hear this proposal.I feel very pleased you

allowed me to be here. I must rush home to tell her father and everyone else. When will you get married?

As soon as possible,Tom cried.I can’t wait to see her golden underwear again.Promise to save it.Anita

Of course I will,Tom.I’m so happy you liked it.

And did you like mine?

You would look good just wrapped in brown paper,Tom.I love you just as you are.

And I love you,Anita.

Just then someone rapped hard on the door.Was it her father?Wait and see

Mental misrule update

Irritable boundary personality disorder.
Rubber boundary personality disorder
Unacceptable boundary lines disorder
Invisible boundary disorder.
Friendly feinting disorder.
Bully personality psychosis.
Prying personality disorder..
Irresolute male disoyder.
Self righteous soul disorder.
God bothering disorder.
Victim seeking personality disorder
Materialistic greed disorder.
Birds nests disorder .
Failing to brush the hair on the back of your head disorder
Disguised theft societal disorder.
Praying for others without permission disorder.
Laughing cavalierly personality disorder.
Unwillingness to care societal disorder…
Over exposed photos male disorder.
Gadget collecting personality tendency leading to more orders.
Instruction manual induced psychosis.
Translation disorder
Soul destroying societal disorder.
Humiliating others personality disorder.
Spiritual tendency errors in navigation neurosis.
Writing obsession in just one of many:sex,icecream.sunshine,love,wool,pianos,paper,newspapers,photos

Treatment is sometimes rest,arrest, or kinder revolution than before…We hope… or maybe meditation for 15 minutes twice daily for women and three times for men..
.
Complaining lady personality misrule
Look here,this is not what I ordered.
Well,someone did!

Lord love a duck

Yet another lover leaves my bed

When another lover flees my cat sized bed

and leaves me wild and lonely in the night

I wonder if it’s unknown words I’ve read

Or isit that my eyes have known their spite?

I tempt this sin with all my female parts.
They feel I’m like a spider with a bat,
to cure ,devour,digest my ghoulish pests,
They think they should be learning on the sat.

But some who mind me feel they have been robbed.
I give them all detention,I’m a liar.
I give them generous fare and sing sheeps’ songs.
I give them comfort like a hellish fire

Oh,come back ,bad boy ,don’t desert me yet,
The clothes I thrashed for you are not quite set

Now it’s not just children being tested,it’s the waters of life.

The season’s too fleeting for greeting…we once had a cat which was squeaking

God saw a shadow on my soul.It was his!

Silence is mean and golden like you

I have the spice of a wife with lice

Bars like Raymond’s are few but well designed for demons like my lover

We can’t even sell our own noses now

Why do they test the waters… or they poisoned or just cold?

My husband’s like a thorn in my backside

Till the clock rhymes,I’ll be tickling your butt with a feather duster.It’s called housework

Times without jumble I have written you knots of words to aid memoire and seduce your eye.

It’s time to call for a prayer for unanimity..passed with no votes

I hate the sound of hooversand dusters

She had hips like an iceberg’s flo

That man stole my heart.I need either him or it..stand and deliver.Be a man

He was my epiphany

Loose in the fields of green…
Oh, my own lover!
He was such a bold flirt;
with his love unclaimed,
he could recite George Boole
he was one of the old Cool.
He never reached his goal.
so with my bling and some flair
I hoped he’d open the enchanted bud
To the music of his lyre.
I’ll pray this for him:
T hat he should find what he wreaks
and write it down with a stylus.
Really he is the allurement of angels
He was my epiphany
Make it up, as the clocks clang..
It’s not really you…it’s just an affliction.
I can do nothing for my calves
It’s because of all the punning I did once.
I can’t even lump a stone over a wall now.
My arms are as weak as Trojans.
I never suffer viruses to be declassified.
Like I said,just wink and say a prayer..
In God we dare

Too many books are full of love

So many books are full of wrath.

I hope his tricks boil.

The lass may be much meaner on the far side of the fence.

Do you catch my lips?

Where have all the hours gone?

Take you hands off my fee

A half naked idea passed by wearing a tie
He has hammered his wails into the bookshelf and now it groans with my books
Take your hands off my fee
Feel free after you pay me.
We’ll weep again,don’t know where,don’t care when.
I’m bureaucratic but not psychoticI
I am a psychoanalyst .Keep talking wildly for fifty minutes.Then stop woodenly and pay me
Can you plea negotiate?
He can strangle ten cats with his glove.
May I put my elastic bands into the cat’s handbag?
Why is there so much handwriting on your wall?
Is this part of a pattern?
She was as handy as a pick on a golden locket
They called it slang ,I swear, you dick headed prick.Pardon my French
What a lemony twang there is from your hair!
I hang on his evil words trying to bring them to earth for burial
May I hang myself from your picture redail to see if anyone wants me?
I am as happy as a freshly boiled soaked haddock
Please do not move this oak as such notions often upend the world
The dispossessed will be persecuted until Heaven
Are you happily pampered? If not ,don’t come here
What is a bard’s day or night but a long flow of rhythm?
He was headed like the best notepaper.He had his address on his hat
What is a hard stop and how is it related to a full stop
I find buttons hard to swallow
What a hair’s breadth from an idea,she was.But she could not make the leap
He has his leg up my chimney but it’s on fire and so am I
Send for the fryer brigade and peel some potatoes
Haste makes love seal better.

A letter or two

He gave me a fast party tickle..
I kissed his algebraic form.
He’s only a number to me.I am numb all over.
He says he’ll give me peace of mind.But did he mean a piece of his mind?
What tense are your muscles?
Is the past infinite?
Can we split the indifferent?
Was the past subjective?
Subjunctive is Latin for may be.
How about the past, was it perfect,imperfect or inconceivable?
What is the future when not dense? Very intense..
Grimmer than grammar: the autolieography of a woman of many alarm clocks

Can a noun be irrational?Can my name be a verb?
What about an infinite sequence of jumbles?Is it useful?
What is a transcendental word?
I hate logs but like rhymes.Log-of-rhymes is my next book.
Why do letters need indices?So we can locate them?

I sent a letter to my love… which letter? A?

Mal a la tete and other English problems

Please read my introductions.

Humor from essays.

The main purpose of sex is multiple onanisms.
Children are deceived half way through a womans bicycle.
Sex should not cause rubble in bed.
Married folk can kiss on the Sabbath only.
Please do not whore coal in the bath.
In the UK sex is overcome by talent.
Please repress yourself in the kitchen.
Do not split up before dinner.
Men need to buy flowers as a sign of wear.
Change is feasible on a weekend.
Free sex is not at A and E.Joy is to be had at the. Doctor`s.
Witch doctors,you mean?
Men need all.
Women have it.

So why all the problems?

Are you offputting or outtaking?

Do you have trouble mating with people’s eyes on the bus?
Are you unable to make the small talk?
Do you hate to sit at round tables?
Do you forget to sweep you partner when you get home from work?
Do you love systems of all types and types who possess symptoms?
Do you feel wry at parties?
Do you prefer staying at home with a cook?
Do you like to meet people one by one in alphabetical order rather than in groups?
Do you like to use only seven letter words?
Do you like writing offensive letters?
Do you constantly apologise and speak in a whisper?
Are you always putting of sex?
Or is sex offputting to you?
Do you eat cat food to save cooking?

Do you often wreak havoc?

Well,eff off.I don’t want to hear from you.Ciao!

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15	16	17	18	19	20	21
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29	30	31

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The psychoanalysis of a worm

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