It seems the devil’s left his evil cave

Seems now we won’t be keen to fly on planes
The  air attendants, crazy, unrestrained
Babies holler in their mummy’s arms
While authority’s resistant to their charms

Seems like a sort of social suicide
Next, we’ll hear some passenger has died
His seat was needed for a staffer’s hide
It’s getting dangerous for us to fly.

It’s not the trainers  with the bombs inside
It’s how the flight attendants damn you with their eyes
Seems somethings cracked and  we’ve nowhere to hide
Did they say how baby Jesus died?

Joseph  Mary, Jesus  tried to go back home
They had no wish to stop to visit Rome
When she let Jesus suck her breast thereon
They shot them down with bullets made of bone.


It seems the devil’s left his evil cave
He’s having lots of fun  on Jesus’ grave.
Did you think the humans could be saved?
Ahahaha ,see how they rave.

Let’s knock the doctor’s teeth out, break his head.
A mother with her  twins should be in bed
Grab her stroller, make her cry instead
Good grief, they’re much more mad, old Satan said.

They say we let the cat out of the bag
We North Americans will have our jag
Kick the Asians, steal the women’s rag
Let them show their bleeding wombs the flag.

The USA is not what it once was
And is it Ronald Ace and what he says?
I can see him chucking chinkies out of planes
And kicking women where they feel the pain

Overton’s window moved t’et right of page
So us,we think it’s good to be enraged
We’re all in hyperactive modes un-sage
By the way, the devil loves a stage!

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What looms?

Cross 2

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My sweet Lord


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Stan woke up with a sore throat.


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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

To compare a sofa with a bed.

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.

Doctor I never knew before.

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?

I’m not God, I do not judge.

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 Sheaffer 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!

Come on Annie,rub my knee

Oh,said Emile,Oh,tee,hee

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To lose ourselves in nature is such joy

 now summer days evoke the trance-like past

where children played in joyous, daisied fields

with buttercups so bright the memory lasts

a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.

those stones and leaves and many colored flowers

were gathered into images that glow

yet later we forgot those treasured hours

when for a while we lived within life’s flow

we did not look and see, but felt at one

we lived as did the birds high in the trees

now we see and write , experience almost gone–

refuse to live like flowers content, at ease

to lose ourselves in nature is such joy

this to our adult selves we must restore

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Yet there is a blind spot in each human eye

We know there is a blind spot in the eye
We cannot see the entire view, the whole
The blank bit in the mirror of the car

In science, there are limits that apply
Chaitin’s  constant may indeed appall
We know there is a blind spot in the eye

The  blind spot may depend on where we are
So its action may lead scientists to brawl
The hole in  the mirrored image in the car

The  naming   of the numbers infinite
Discloses a fine paradox,  enthralls.
We know there is a blind spot in the eye

We long for deep control of what we are
By religion, science or New Age notions foul
Fill hole in  the mirrored image in the car

In between the consonants the vowel
Make explicit that we want  no further holes
Yet there is a blind spot in each human eye
Like  a blank in the mirror in a family car

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