Almost the start of July

  • There’s many a true word spoken but not heard.
    We must love one more time!
    May I scalp your fleece?
    I’m getting buried again in the morning.
    I was reborn in Jesus’ tribe..I’m Jewish now and I’m ok.
    Two writes make for much better poems.
    They tell me that London is quite full of spite… or is it spice?
    So you want the moon to play with,and that man to run away with
  • .Try a lady next time..more luck there!
    Ride on the sea,the whale is very kind.
    We wish you a fairy Christmas and a very gay Year.
    Happy worth day to you,self love is quite free.
    Don’t take such a big feel of me
    On the seventh day, God jested.
    God messed up.
    God feasted.
    God sussed us.
    God confessed it.
    God,I missed him….
    God invested….in us
  • Gold stone from Cotswold quarries men brought
    And built into a way of life for those who bought
    Their lives so cheaply,And did not see
    The children’s eyes,the ball,the game,the tree
    Of life that grew in small backyards and gave all
    To those who climbed into its arms.
    Why should this not be you?
    Oh,Eden,I see that you are nearer now
    In lowly homes where love is free
    Than in the temple, grove,and soft set brow
    Of those who worship God in churches built of gold.
    Now we can see that this is easy to recall
    When sun is setting,and escapes the ashes
    Thrown up and floating in the watches
    Of the days of voter’s eyes cast up to skies,
    and wondering fearful, what will come
    when all the secret deals are done.
    So take the gold of life and let it fall
    Into your children’ s growing souls;
    And let this Cotswold town and spires

  • A man in North London was attacked by a War Memorial.Wife asks if it can be replaced by a Joy Memorial made of rubber.
    She says,He was having a quiet amble across the village green when the War Memorial reared up and struck him on the head…is it linked to the Floods we are suffering from…?
    Now his wife is going up with a towel to see if she can wash him down as after 25 hours in hospital he has not been given any washes …not even water colour washes…
    Man pleads for soap and water… read more tomorrow…in the Daily Smile.What next………. shampoo,anyone?Foot washing as in the Holy Bobble.. You read it here or not at all..
    Fleece be with you.
    Flocks… can you abide them?
    Sheep.. flock for peace.
    Sheep’s milk cheese… protein with taste from Wensleydale.
    He shall feed his flock except those in A and E!
    Let his grace into your cracks.
    Heal the abiding way.
    You will know true sense when you feel his finger touching you.

  • Stan was washing the car while his wife Mary packed a picnic basket.He was already feeling very hot
    even bothered.Emile his cat and friend was sitting on the wall over seeing the car wash.
    Would you like to come,Emile?
    Stan murmured/l
    Yes,I’d love too but what can I eat?
    How about a tin of sardines?
    Do they have those little keys on the side?I find them hard to open.
    So it was you,Emile!I thought Mary must have sleep walked and tried to open a tin.If you get good at all these tasks nothing will be safe!
    I tried to open that tin of gooseberries.
    You must be a fool,Emile!Why gooseberries?
    They looked so nice but they were full of pips.
    Tinned gooseberries are not so tasty except made into a jelly.
    Can we take some jelly on the picnic?
    Well,it would be lovely but it might melt!
    OK I’ll settle for a tin of sardines,the cat mewed politely.
    I’ll have a gooseberry yoghurt instead.
    Since when did cats have puddings,Emile?
    I always envied you,so I thought I’d ask.
    Why,you are almost human,Emile.Next you’ll want a suit and some brogues.
    I’d prefer sandals,responded the striped cat.
    Why is that,my dear,Stan asked lovingly.
    So I can still scratch people or milk them when on their laps.
    You naughty cat!You”ll have to give up scratching if you want to become more moral.
    But what is a cat without a scratch?
    What is a wasp without it’s sting?
    What is a woman without a mood?
    What is a man without……………..
    Have you finished,Stan? called Mary,thus preventing the author from revealing what Stan thought was masculine!
    Yes,my dear.I just need a rug for Emile to sit on …or how about this old tablecloth?
    That’s my new apron! looks as if you’ve cleaned Buckingham Palace including the chimneys!
    That just shows you how hard women work and to think I could have been working on my new book
    “Wittgenstein’s Hats!”
    I didn’t know about that, Stan said in a puzzled voice.
    Well,I’ve done four on his cats……… so..
    Did he wear a hat?
    That is the problem.Although Jewish he was raised as a Catholic in Vienna.And Catholic men take off their hats in church.
    Well,that is politeness.
    Yes,but Jewish men must wear a hat all the time.It’s part of their code.It shows respect for God.
    Do they wear a hat in bed?
    I believe not as it could drop off and frighten somebody.
    Well,tell me more about the book.
    It’s obvious to me that the source of much of Wittgenstein’s severe anxiety and guilt
    was his conflict whether/when to wear a hat.
    Did he solve it?
    I have evidence to show he wore a night cap!I have photographs.
    Where did you get those from?
    Well……….I have friends……..And without photos the book would not sell.
    How about cartoons,mewed Emile.
    Graphic novels are the in thing now.
    Good idea,I’ll think about it.
    My goodness it’s 8 pm..we’ve talked so long it’s too late to go out.
    How about eating the picnic in the garden?
    so they went through the side gate into the leafy garden where Emile ate sardines and pilchards and Stan and Mary ate sandwiches and strawberry trifle.
    Then Mary got a sketch pad and drew a few pictures of Wittgenstein in bed with four cats and all of
    them wore nightcaps and the philosopher was also drinking a nightcap of Scottish whiskey.
    A little smile came on her face…
    I like this,she cried merrily-
    Thank you,Emile.
  • An angel was near you today
    I saw her but I couldn’t say.
    You were tied up in a network of thought
    On the blackberry you had just bought.
    An angel was near you today
    But your mind was too faraway.
    You didn’t see her beautiful light
    For your eyes were entranced by tech sites,
    If we could temper our cybernetic romance,
    And we weren’t so electronically entranced,
    If we could all look up together just once,
    Our angels would teach us to dance
  • You are my golden buttercup.
    I love you all day long.
    And as I walk around the town
    I burst out into song.
    You are my heart’s delight
    You are my joy.
    You are my man now…
    Let’s love and say a prayer
  • The Veil Of Isolation
    Isolation vs. Interaction: A conscious choice?
    By Carol Eustice, Guide
    Updated March 05, 2004 Health’s Disease and Condition content is reviewed by the Medical Review Board
    Chronic arthritis…..a disease characterized by pain, limitation, and loss…..a disease which impacts a person physically, emotionally, and socially.
    Much has been written about the physical impact of chronic arthritis and resulting loss of ability. The emotional impact has even been analyzed. Denial, anger, fear, and feelings of hopelessness are among the emotions which can accumulate and implode within the chronic arthritis sufferer. Add to the mix friends and family who do not understand the emotional turmoil and the result can be increasing levels of social isolation. Consider the following scenarios:
    *A friend asks you to go to the shopping mall for a day of shopping. The friend does not realize that the pain from your arthritis will force the shopping trip to end prematurely.
    *You are invited to a party but you know the fatigue from your arthritis will make it necessary to end the evening early.
    *At the party there will be alcoholic beverages. The question, “Why aren’t you drinking?”, will flow like the drinks, leaving you to feel singled-out.
    *You want to see the hottest movie in the theaters, but it is very difficult to get up from the seats after sitting for 2 or 3 hours.
    *At your family reunion, activities such as softball and volleyball are planned. As everyone else digs in for the competition, you are sidelined.
    *You plan a trip with friends or family but the sightseeing schedule will leave you way behind.
    *A new friend invites you over for dinner but you are apprehensive because you are unfamiliar with the friends home and you fear the number of steps and furniture that might challenge you.
    *You would like to invite people to your home but feel your housekeeping has been sub-par and it discourages you.
    *After taking the children to the amusement park, you find the rides are inaccessible for you. This leaves you in a “waiting mode” all day rather than a “sharing mode”.
    *You can no longer continue to work. Leaving your job causes you to lose the social interaction you enjoyed with co-workers.
    *The financial loss caused by expensive medical care depletes the allotment for entertainment.
    *Going out in public armed with canes, wheelchairs, and handicap parking placards provokes stares and gawking.
    Do any of these situations seem familiar? This is a short list of difficulties which can confront people with chronic arthritis. Obviously the length of time you have had arthritis and the severity of your condition make the cycle between physical, emotional, and social impact even more complicated. It is apparent that these situations lead to feelings of guilt and uneasiness. As you experience more and more uncomfortable moments, it is human nature to want to shield yourself. Avoiding social interaction becomes a choice, and the result of that choice is isolation.
    Choosing isolation over social interaction means you can avoid feelings of guilt over holding others back. It means you can avoid feeling that you have failed to meet other peoples expectations of you. It means you won’t have to ask for help or you won’t have to feel “different”.
    Think about it for a moment though. Doesn’t isolation just enhance other bad feelings such as low self-esteem, depression, and unworthiness? If you succumb to a world of isolation, doesn’t it mean that arthritis is controlling you rather than you controlling your arthritis?
    Isn’t it more satisfying to work to make people understand what life is like for you within your boundaries of limited ability? Isn’t it better for you to learn to live within your boundaries and not continually strive to attain other peoples level of normalcy? Isn’t it better to focus on what you can do, not what you cannot do? Please take your answers to these questions to th

  • I was shocked into this diatribe by seeing a hamburger win the Olympics.
    We were joined by the Whip… with some cuffs.
    A life time of at least ten thousand troubles began with the first quip!
    I like to float on his boat while he has a dip in the river
    I can’t respond yet.My fury is still out.
    Just a minuet and I’ll be free.
    I fell off the truck and my wife fell off the wagon.So we are well mixed now.
    Why is justice so often fierce?
    Have you any quips in mind?
    You seem very mal-ou-drat tonight.
    Tension is relieved by messages along the nerves.
    If I crack up please keep the pieces until God sends a pot of glue to mend me…

  • I was wandering all through the town
    When I saw the bright eyes of a clown.
    I fell into his arms
    Without any qualms,
    And now we’re going up to lie down,

    Life in my body

    I went to the dentist today
    He found I’d a cat in my cavity.
    Poor pussy was hiding in there…
    Well,no way you can call it depravity,The doctor found a mouse in my ear..
    He was much puzzled by my hilarity.
    He gave it a piece of his cheese.
    Should cats and mice now have parity?When I gave my nose a big blow
    A hornet came out wildly buzzing.
    So now I am off to the zoo
    to see if I can catch something more p
  • 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.

    I love your eyes

    I feel so happy when you’re near.
    Seems like love can cast out fear.
    The world looks brighter and more clear,so
    Down the avenues of life we go.
    I love your eyes and how you feel.
    I’m like an orange you unpeel.
    And when I’m naked I will be real.
    for then my soul will be revealed.
    When we lie together on the bed
    after all disguises are shed
    I see your soul shine through your face
    As I offer myself to your embrace.
  • The way you can lose weight quickly is to have a nervous breakdown.
    When that happens you will lose your appetite and also you will wring your hands and keep running about uneasily.This helps to burn off the fat.You will find it hard to swallow but that will help too.
    You can live on liquids for a few weeks…
    And when you recover,see the light, and control your appetite…
    If you can’t manage a total breakdown try severe worry instead,especially worry about food,additives,chemicalsm= etc.Worry about the sun…too much or too little.Worry that you have BO..or bad breath.
    Pretend a tiger is chasing you and ON NO ACCOUNT RELAX OR SLEEP
    That will help as you can clean the house all night and work all day.
    If you are too lazy to crack up then just crack on as normal.

    No,I’ll never love again,not whenever

    Her hands are all wavy,her nose runs all day and her feet tweet nonstop.Is it the New Exercise?
    I made a witch profit by teaching her doubt.
    At least tantalize me till it’s light
    At last, abreast for the I’s.Level at last
    He gave me a laugh and sinful emotions.
    He kept me mating far too long.
    Then he laughed all the way to the bonk
    I play down in the bar
    I pray for more catarrh
    I generally lay my bards on the table
    l left my mark on his back.. scratched again!
    I leave no home unconsumed.I’m just a devil in my own lifetime
    I was left at his falter.
    She’s a legend so well defined…she’s never out of her own mind
    A gun brings me out in spots…when they hit me.
    It was the fleeter of my two feet which arrived at the finishing post.I’ll catch up with it later.Is that a crutch or are you limping to meet me?
    Will they make my groans into migraines?
    Let sloping fogs lie freely over all the elastic lands.
    I let the flat out to an old hag.She had bags under her eyes and a broomstick under her charms.
    Is that a crutch I see before I wee.
    Let’s never poll again.
    I’ll never be a dove again.No,I’ll never write a double negative for you.No not ever
    She said,let’s spit now..but I refused,so she bit!
    His blinkers are perfect.His winks are a pleasure to behold.
    Let’s love again before the next millenium..
    You keep me mating all of the time.What did I do?
    Was it my song?
  • You are adorable you are so Other
    And yet you remind me mysteriously
    Of my mother!
    You are so sweet,you are so offbeat,
    You dress so neat;
    And you don’t eat meat.
    Or bulgur wheat,
    You seem to have excess conceit,
    about your
    skills as a writer of Fleet Street
    type stories
    and mix with all the wrong folk
    and you are no good at small talk,
    Though you have eyes like a hawk.
    No chance of me hiding
    My secrets anymore,
    Yet though I adore
    Your piercing gaze.
    I need to have my face double glazed.
    I love how your lineaments were made,
    do you fancy me,
    Or wish to get laid?
    I’d be more than happy
    to oblige
    In any way I can.
    You see, I am a man,
    and this is my home.
    My bed is made from thick foam
    Rubber,It’s very wide
    so plenty of room for both of us
    Inside the covers,
    Or space to hide!
    Are you very shy?You never speak.
    I’m just going to
    Take a leak.
    I beg your pardon for my rude word.
    Ladies should be spared
    I should say,may I use the bathroom?
    But as it’s my own bathroom
    I was not thinking.
    You beauty has made me start blinking,
    I think I’m going to wet myself soon.
    How the hell can I get out of this room?
    Now I’m getting ruder and ruder.
    Excuse me,miss.
    I’d love to kiss
    But I need the loo,
    Or I don’t know what I shall do!
    I’m too polite.
    I need to assert myself tonight.
    I need to pee.
    You see
    You and me
    We are similar
    And no doubt sometimes
    You want to go
    When it’s inconvenient socially.
    A penny is money well spent.
    Though it’s more expensive on Euston
    Oh my God!I can’t keep waiting.
    I have to go,goodbye.
    I like your eye
    S and your lips.I
    Drank too much cider
    and it affects my kidneys inside
    Cider is deadly for people
    with weak bladders
    And men who need to climb ladders
    May get drunk and fall off.
    Don’t make me laugh!
    I’m just going out for a few minutes now.
    I don’t want to offend you or that old cow.
    Please let me go.
    I love you so.
    but now my main concern
    Is not finding a home for millions of my sperm.
    Oh,for God’s sake!
    I’m going off to take that leak.
    And when I come back,
    Please speak!
    Or emit a few squeaks

  • Down yonder dark valley,where bankers meander
    On dark grey cracked pavements I ruminating roam;
    Or in the bright moonlight,I pensively wander
    For once this here City was my native home..
    But now I’m a tramp and sleep on a gravestone.
    I have nothing left but this carrier bag.
    I get food from the convent
    And eat on the pavement
    And soon I am hoping to write a tramp’s blog.
    I had a netbook and now I’ve bought a dongle
    I’m keeping some notes on the politics game.
    I’ve got a nokia camera
    On permanent loan
    So I snap all these bankers,
    [truly they are wankers ]
    I hope I can tease them until they all moan.
    I love my little dongle
    As around graveyards I stumble
    It keep sme in touch with the whole wide world
    And if I sometimes caress it,
    It’s only to check it……
    And to make sure I’m not turning into a girl!
  • I am looking back at the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st
    and reading Gitta Sereny and Barabara Tuchmann and I just thought
    On the seventh day God rested.
    Maybe this is that day.He’s on sabbatical.
    But then I look further back at the Crusades and I think
    On the seventh day, should God have been ARRESTED?
    Blake saw infinity in a grain of sand…and eternity in the shower
    I want to break into song.. will you come along?
    I want to take a peek at your preek
    Please make fish walk into the sea one by one.No coupling by order.
    Now,take hold of my outstretched hands and fly into the bright
    He blocked a stoned banker from entering the cafe de la mare
    Please look after your witticisms..My writs can take care of your selves.
    Won’t you take it wheezy?Or Shall I be more greasy?
    Shake it from me…I’ll define pain no more
    Take me to the limits of the defined.Extremity is my piano d’accord.
    Oh,forte.O mores!Temerity is torment.
    Lakes are friendlier, bigger streams.
    He faked a cock up and lost the balls.What a blot!
    I’ll take a mull in the hawthorn’s vest.
    Wimps and shepherds come all day.
    My mind blew over with slow notions.
    Take me to your blouson.
    Take me to Google Reader.
    Let Google Docs iron your frocks.
    A Doc a day keeps Apple away!
    Are you a scholar with a dollar?
  • Did you ever have a lover
    with long red hair?
    For long red hair
    seems too unfair.
    Did you ever have a lover
    and then another lover?
    For there’s added gain
    if you feel no pain.
    Did you ever have a lover
    who loved your eyes
    and never ever lied,
    and let you cry?
    Whatever was the trouble.
    You’ll never have a lover.
    if you have no time for others
    for love needs care,
    say,what is here.
    Here and there are many lovely people
    who live with their lives with scruples;
    if you’re scruple free,
    then let it be.
    Oh,let it be is fine,
    Except for the divine.
    I want to be involved
    For I can’t please all the folk,
    Who touch me with their talk.
    My heart has melted down…
    and now I’ve grown a world
    completely on my own.
    Were you ever quite alone
    Like a toad under a stone?
    Did you ever hear a groan
    as you wrote your poem?
    For you’ll never write a poem
    that makes me laugh..
    Because my feet are in the shower
    but my body’s in the bath.
    My head is on the shelf…
    and I’ve lost all of my stealth…
    Yet you will love me
    Evermore and evermore
    You’ll be standing on the shore
    Watching the horizon,
    wondering what she lies on.
    Oh,you’ll never be a poet,
    Unless you learn your notes..
    They take you to the limit…..
    Love.whatever is it?
    Evermore ,evermore…
    The words seem like a roar…
    I love your heart’s deep core.
    Ever more and ever more.

  • Stan was happy for a few moments when he woke up.Then he realized Emile
    was not anywhere to be seen.Mary,his wife, had already gone out as she wanted to catch a very early train to London.She needed to visit the British Library.She urgently wanted to find evidence that Wittgenstein wore a hat in bed as this was an important idea in her new study “Wittgenstein ,guilt and hats.. a new theory”
    Stan went searching around the house but Emile had vanished.Usually at 8 am he would be dashing about pretending to chase flies and giving a balletic performance worthy of Sadler’s Wells…
    I wonder who Sadler was,Stan muttered as he filled the kettle with fresh cold water and put some Earl Grey tea into the teapot.
    Then, a strange,uncanny feeling came over him.He looked up and there was Emile crouched on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.
    Emile,he cried,What are you doing up there?
    I’m training to be a spy,Emile replied nonchalantly.
    But how could this kitchen be of interest to the Intelligence Services?
    Well,the cat murmured,I am practising hiding.Hiding is very useful.
    You gave me a terrible shock,Stan said.I had this feeling I was being watched.I wondered if it was paranoia.Then I saw your gleaming eyes.
    So,I need to get some dark glasses,Emile whispered.
    No,I would still feel that horrible feeling…. someone is staring at me.And how were you planning to get down from that high ledge?
    I’m not sure,the cat mioawed faintly
    Well,the first lesson for a spy or even a detective is,
    Never go anywhere unless you can make a quick exit,
    As it is,I may have to ring 999.
    Just then the front doorbell rang.There stood a man with a white beard and moustache.
    Hello,he said holding out his hand in a pleasant manner to shake Stan’s. hand
    I am called Peter Fried.I have just moved into one of the new flats across the road.I am a psychoanalyst.I have taken on another flat to use as a consulting room and a waiting room
    A psychoanalyst! Do we need one round here? Well,Good morning,I have just brewed some tea.Would you like to join me?
    How kind,said Peter.
    I say,old bean,did you know there’s a cat on top of your cupboard?
    Yes,that is Emile.Today he has surpassed himself in wickedness.How I will get him down I don’t know.
    My training analyst used to say,What goes up must eventually come down.
    That seems a bit weird for an analyst.To what was he referring… something to do with sex I don’t doubt.It’s all sex with you people.
    Yes, some of us are very peculiar…that’s why we enter the profession.
    What I meant was,if Emile got up he can get down.How did you get up,Emile?
    I leaped,answered the tense animal.
    Can you leap down?
    I’ve lost my nerve,replied the poor creature pathetically
    Well, as it happens,being a therapist,I always carry few spare nerves with me.I’ll climb up this stepladder and throw you a new nerve.
    And without waiting,Peter climbed the ladder.He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden thread.
    Here you are,Emile,Catch this in your claw.
    Emile caught the golden thread and wrapped it around his neck.
    Can you leap down now? enquired Stan.
    Emile leaped down and landed with a splash in a bowl of hot soapy water in the sink.
    It’s a good thing I wasn’t making chips,laughed Stan anxiously
    Come here,Emile and let me dry you on this old towel.He put Emile
    in front of the fire and he and Peter drank mugs of Earl Grey tea.
    I have got a mistress,Stan told Peter.
    Why tell me? Do you want  to have therapy for your inner conflicts?
    Oh,no.I’m far too old for therapy or indeed for a mistress.I was wondering of you would perhaps be interested …she just likes to spend a little time with an intriguing man.. talking, drawing graphs, interpreting data,making tea,calling the ambulance.. you know…she is most charming and intelligent company. When I give lectures on Statistics and Modern society she organises all the rooms and the chairs and so on..She likes our paramedic,Dave.and is always sending for him to mend chairs and open tins.
    Is she not married?
    No,her husband fell into the wheelie bin during the night and alas he was taken away with the rubbish.
    That is a strange story.Are you certain it happened?
    No,it could be he grew tired of her and ran away.Then she invented this story,
    Well,this may be a quiet suburb but I can see there is plenty of material here for me to write my next book:
    “Deceptive appearances and the fascination of apparent dullness.”
    Oh,that sounds very unusual….please lend me a copy.
    Well,I’ve never believed in true dullness.There is always a story hidden in every house and home.
    See,I’ve just met you a man of 98 yet you have a wife, a mistress and a crazy cat.. and I’ve only been here for one day.Imagine what else I may discover here. after a few weeks
    They heard a siren.
    Oh,no!We’ve not even rung 999 and here is the ambulance…. Mary will be so angry..You see Dave is bisexual.
    My goodness,are you having an affair with him. as well?
    No way,shouted Stan.My life is tough enough already.He can be bisexual or even trisexual but I’m not interested.
    What does trisexual mean,enquired Emile.
    I have no idea but I thought it sounded good,admitted Stan.
    Peter stood up.
    I think I’d better go home and start to see my patients.It may calm me down.
    Now .goodbye,Emile,Put your nerve somewhere safe.We don’t want you to lose it again.
    Thank you,darling cried Emile.I think I’ve formed an erotic transference with you already.
    Peter rushed out in terror.
    Is it me or is it them?he wondered.
    I thought it would be quiet here on the edge of Knittingham but I think now wherever you are there will always be something unexpected happening.But I hope Emile will not begin to follow me around.I shall have to buy a lady cat and then Emile might fall in love with her instead.So off Peter went whistling a Bach cello suite and wondering how to cope with life in a suburb.. clearly it was not as dull as he had imagined.Dullness… does it exist or was it merely invented?

    Where tadpoles mioaw

    He wanted to be publicly logged.
    Logged on?
    Anyway he was dogged by misfortune.
    Don’t be sad… he was a masochist at heart.
    That’s a blessing…
    Is it a sin to enjoy pain?
    No pain, no flame.
    Hell snaps at their heels…
    I wonder how that feels?
    It keeps one slim…..running for your life.
    I was running from my wife!
    Did she catch you?
    Yes,she caught me with a net.
    What sort of net?
    As I’m famed for my fondness for flowers she used a hairnet.
    So you were caught supping nectar?
    Yes,it was like honey to me.
    What happened next?
    She kept me in a birdcage for a year…but the birds hated it so she set me free.
    So here you are,fancy free.
    Well free,anyway..I still have my fancies.
    Say no more.
    No more!I’m saved.
    Saved by the well..
    The one where the frogs sang all night?
    Yes,Jesus liked frogs you know.
    We used to sing,
    The Lord’s my leopard,I’ll not chant.
    He makes me frown and lie.
    By wells of frogs,he leadeth me
    The tadpoles all do cry.
  • Who has never felt grief,
    When a small gesture would have helped
    but it has,unknowingly,been withheld?
    How many people have the imagination
    to guess what’s in your mind,
    And to embrace you rather than push you away
    No-one.No-one.No-one knows.
    No-one knows these numbers.
    No-one knows these names.
    No-one knows how many feel so diffident,
    Nor how many feel shame.
    Being alive is joyful!
    Being alive is pain!
    Being alive is all we have,
    We’ll never be alive again.
    I look into your eyes today
    I sense your shame and woe.
    I look into your eyes just now
    And tell you that I know,
    Being alive is lonely.
    Being alive is good.
    Being alive is pain indeed
    For flesh is not like wood.

    Can I put a word in your beer,dear

  • My head came loose as I rode on a merrygoround.I feel better without it.
    Keep a bad man in your room and leave the good ones full of gloom.
    My eyes keep falling onto you…Can you lend me your arms?
    Can you keep it down for a bit?
    Keep the wimple on,Cupid
    I keep mathematics at bay all day..I’m counting on your aid..
    Stop those flies opening the windows…. get an apple mac.
    Keep your hair on.Shaving is ungracious to your Creator.
    Keep your powder dry..but your lipstick moist.
    Keeping up with the Tones,the Shades ,the Hues.Why is life such an art?
    He used to keep a bird closeby..but she flew off with all his money
    My heart keeps on ticking..when will I have to get up?When it stops?
    You lick me and I’ll lie here longer…I need a thorough wash..bring two cats next time…they will know what to do.
    Why did she hit those herbs? She forgot the rosemary……Crikey.
    What happens if she forgets the beef…watch out,you cow.
    If we all kick at once,the earth might give birth to a new day.
    He went out one day and fell into a book.When he woke up he was a professor in a circus.He could ride those horses as if he were born to it the, without a thought in his head,he would talk for an hour.It was a but like the marriage feast at… you know….wine,women ans Bong!
  • P

    My husband is very kind.He lifts up his feet when I am hoovering the floor…
    Mine is nice too…he made me a cup of tea once.I still remember..even after 40 years.
    My husband washes up when we have a takeaway.
    Mine does after we have fish and chips.
    My husband folds up the sheets.
    When the newspaper gets creased.
    My husband cleans the bath with a brillo pad.
    Is it a tin bath?
    My husband never cleans his pipe….
    Smoke gets in your eyes,smoke gets in your eyes….
    Did you ever have a brief encounter?
    No,but I lost all my briefs.
    You should take legal advice.
    My dad rolled his own cigarettes.
    Down yonder hill?
    My Mum used cigarettes to curl her hair..
    I loved the warm atmosphere in your house.

  • The line of your lips
    The line of your lips is finely made,
    as suffering accepted has transmuted pain
    into a sculptor who
    has given you much beauty;
    yet the pain has shaped too
    the eyes setting,
    as if a slight question waits
    in the back of your mind
    asking,is this right?
    and I perceive this and how you may suddenly tremble
    with a memory too piercing;
    yet how you love
    the world so broken,
    so humane
    so vulnerable
    so strong.
    what are you saying to me?
    I gather you ask me this of me:
    Tell me it’s good to be alive.

  • Pray Father,give me your blessing.It’s six feats since my last Compulsion.
    What have you done now,my child.
    I have washed all my unclean linen in public.
    I suggest buying a washing machine.
    You don’t understand,Father,I am speaking metaphorically.
    Well,if you’ve already revealed it in public,you have no need to confess here.
    I wanted absolution
    Well,we all have dirty linen.It’s the nature of life.
    Yes, we just finish rinsing one lot and the next is there.
    where did you reveal all?
    In the market square.
    And what response did you get,my child?
    A man called,Your sins aren’t very original!
    No sin is entirely original though I think the Banks are giving it their best shot.
    Now,Father,you must avoid cliches!
    What,even in here?
    I find once I use one cliche,I get caught up in a vicious spiral.
    Yes,it’s like think once won’t matter but after having unlawful congress with one person,it doesn’t seem to matter how many more you have.
    You can’t commit adultery,Father!
    Why not?
    Well,you’re not married,are you?
    No,you are quite right.I was just using my imagination.
    I quite understand,Father.I was like that once.Now I just have compulsive washing problems instead.
    What do you wash?
    You name it,I’ve washed it!
    How about the heart?
    That’s when we need God.
    What,God the Washer of All?
    Come down,Oh,Wash divine.
    Clean this grey heart of mine,
    And Kindle it with thine own Amazon password.
    Oh,Cleanser,draw reak near,
    and make stains disappear.
    And subscribe me to those Websites that I’ve heard
    Thanks so much.I really enjoyed that.And for your penance you mustnot go into the market for a month.
    Which Market?
    The Free Market.It’s Hell in there.
    You can say that again.
    It’s Hell in there.
    Goodnight,Father.I feel compelled to leave now.
    Leave now, or forever stay and preach!
    A strange choice.I’ll be off to write my,”One Sin A Day” Blog.
    Where is that?
    You ought not to swear here,
    Have you never heard of Blogger?
    Don’t keep saying it?
    It belongs to Google.
    Don’t say they are buying up rude words now.what next?
    The W
  • Bless me Father for I have skinned.
    Why are you here,my child?
    It’s ten bleats synched with my tweets since I began obsessing again
    I see.So you wish to confess?
    Well.either that or digress..
    Alright,my child.Blurt it out.
    I spent three hours trying to examine my conscience..
    Well,I am filled with envy because my sister is so thin and beautiful.
    Is that your sister who lives up the road.
    That’s right.
    But she’s much fatter than you.
    No,no,She’s skinny as a rake..
    I think you are looking through the wrong end of the telescope.
    What telescope?
    I am speaking in metaphors.
    Can’t you speak in tongues?
    So you are envious of the slender physique of this lady who is so fat
    she can hardly walk?
    She’s just pretending…she always was lazy.
    Well,I recommend you have your eyes tested and also you need your head examining.
    Why?Have I got nits?
    Only metaphorical nits.You need a psychiatrist, I believe.
    I believe too but can’t you accept my regret at my sin.
    Definitely,I can but I can’t accept the stupidity of envying someone worse off than you.Absolution may help the sin but for stupidity it’s hard to think what to do.It’s like paranoia…the more you try to show people they are wrong,the more they cling to their belief.
    So what do you suggest,Father?
    You need to ask yourself why you keep comparing yourself with others.
    I see…they do say comparisons are odious.
    And envy and spite can cause a kind of blindness.
    So spite ruins your sight?
    Definitely.None so blind as those who will not see.
    I think I’m making progress.What’s my penance?
    Are you good at dress making?
    Do you want a new cassock.Father?
    No,I want you to make a beautiful dress for your sister.You will have to measure her height and her vital statistics and wrap her around in lovely silk fabric.
    That will give her a shock.
    It will give you one as well.Any more sins?
    Well,I keep getting hit on the head by the hairdresser.
    It’s not a sin.
    I know but it’s a sin that I keep going there and never say anything,
    Well for your penance it’s a facial and a hair cut at a better salon.
    This all seems a bit odd,Father.
    Well,we try to keep up with the times but it’s the same old sins..
    Envy,self hatred,other hatred,malice….bullying,murder..gluttony
    and that’s just in this one parish.
    Goodness, how do you cope?,
    Well,I shall never vote Liberal Democrat again..
    What’s politics got to do with sin?
    It’s all quite simple.The more the wealthy flaunt their wealth,bonuses and tax breaks the harder it is for the poor to say no to temptation.
    Sin has its social aspect.It’s not entirely personal.
    One virtue is to avoid causing others to fall into temptation.
    This is quite intriguing.Thank you,Father.
    Thank you…. and I’m standing as an Independent next time.
    What will you label yourself as?
    Not sure…how about
    It’s the rites that make it right?
    It sounds like the BNP
    If you want to go to hell,feel free but don’t take everyone else too.
    There are enough people in hell already.
    You’ll have to make it snappy.
    I’ll have to pray.
    How about
    Stop preying and start praying?
    The one drawback is that the old language of sin and so on seems outdated… we need new terminology.
    Raise your self esteem………do us all a favour.
    Be good and you’ll feel good.
    Love others even when it annoys them.. the fun of God.
    That’s it!
    The Fun of God…
    The Humour of the Numinous.
    I thought you might say:
    The Humour of New Mirth.
    Mirth is the latest thing
    No other quality can bring
    such great joy and happiness
    To our story.
    Mirth is the greatest joy
    Far better than cars and toys
    No other virtue can send
    such a sweet message
    Of God’s glory.
    Mirth is the only worth.
    Mirth us like heaven on earth;
    so why not join in and laugh.
    Right,must dash…I can’t stop smiling … Let’s have a bash.
    Let’s create a brand new story

    The face within your face


    I saw for a few moments
    the absolute vulnerability
    of the face within your face.
    Heart touched heart.
    I knew you.
    You had a black umbrella.
    The rain struck hard.
    At the station we parted.
    Thank you,you said.
    I walked away slowly.
    The pools in the pavement gleamed
    with reflected light.
    I see you now,
    Like a finger with a torn off nail.
    Let no-one harm you .
    Let no fierce sun burn you.
    May you be protected

  • Come down,oh Blog divine.
    Clean this wrought mind of mine,
    And Kindle it with thine own Amazon password.
    O Holy Spirit,draw real near;
    Make all strain disappear.
    And subscribe me to all the intriguing and wonderful Websites I’ve never heard of.

  • Make sure you do a fine sprint before your end implodes.
    I got the paw end of the tiger.
    Alan Turing was an enigma.He was a dependent from the Links
    and hypertext.Even the sphinx gave him a quick spook
    Stop battling your rage….go and strangle that Morse code.
    I try to flee between the lines… but I’m a word textpert
    I try to see between the lines….everything passes at some time.
    I try to be myself in between times…..I know you love me for my nonchalant poems alone
    I try to write on the lines………but I often wander round the points.
    I prefer unlined paper………….I like plenty of space to calculate my sin tax.
    I prefer the lines of your face…………they harmonise with the designs on my Wall.
    I tried to freeze the lines…………but they kept moving the whole Post.
    I love the words in your blog…… original.Did you say you line Dutch caps and what is the main treason in that,if any?
    I like taking exams… it passes the time between rhymes.
    I like writing letters……they please my haunted wraiths and flaunted
    I like to see you run time……….it makes my smartphone snappy.
    I like your flaws…..they appeal to my inner Grudgement.
    You are so line free….you must have been banjaxed…
    You are so smooth,there’s no groove for you in my heart.
    I prefer the posts already red.
    I like a site with a start venue,
    I like blogs about funny.
    Your Word meant all to me.
    His Word was made fresh.
    He liked my after lines.
    The clitoris
    is the epitome
    of sensuality,
    but we call for more
    Freud thought the interior
    was superior
    How did he come
    to this conclusion,
    or more rightly,
    to a possible illusion?
    We can’t generalize
    On other women’s lives.
    Nor on men’s either…
    that’s a genuine tantalizer.

  • We are all one,
    with the literati,
    The clitorati,
    The flitorati,
    And the fitorati.
    All we wait for now
    are notoriety,
    and this new society.
    give me more variety
    in my poetry.The clitoris
    is the epitome
    of sensuality,
    but we call for more
    please come quietly
    to avoid
    being handcuffed.
    What kind of society?.
    Do they need a gratuity,
    Or shall we go for free?
    We’ll go for broke
    and go up in smoke.

    Negative capability [from wikipedia]


    Keats: The poet’s turn of phrase
    The poet John Keats used the term negative capability to describe the artist as receptive to the world and its natural phenomena, and to reject those who tried to formulate theories or categorical knowledge. In this concept, Keats posited the world and the human to be of infinite depth. Such a position put Keats at the forefront of the Romantic movement, and even at the cusp of modernism, according to some commentators.[2]
    In a letter to his brothers, George and Thomas Keats, on December 21, 1817, Keats used the phrase negative capability for the first and only time.[3] He did so in criticism of Coleridge, whom he thought sought knowledge over beauty:
    I had not a dispute but a disquisition with Dilke, upon various subjects; several things dove-tailed in my mind, and at once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously – I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason – Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge. This pursued through volumes would perhaps take us no further than this, that with a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.[4]
    Keats understood Coleridge as searching for a single, higher-order truth or solution to the mysteries of the natural world. He went on to find the same fault in Dilke and Wordsworth. All these poets, he claimed, lacked objectivity and universality in their view of the human condition and the natural world. In each case, Keats found a mind which was a narrow private path, not a “thoroughfare for all thoughts.” Lacking for Keats were the central and indispensable qualities requisite for flexibility and openness to the world, or what he referred to as negative capability.[5]
    This concept of Negative Capability is precisely a rejection of set philosophies and preconceived systems of nature. Keates here advocated an acceptance of what we can know about the world as necessary being limited, and rejected the artist’s attempt to analyze, rationalize, or categorize the world. He demanded that the poet be receptive rather than searching for fact or reason, and to not seek absolute knowledge of every truth, mystery, or doubt.[6]
    The origin of the term is unknown, but some scholars have hypothesized that Keats was influenced in his studies of medicine and chemistry, and that it refers to the negative pole of an electric current which is passive and receptive. In the same way that the negative pole receives the current from the positive pole, the poet receives impulses from a world that is full of mystery and doubt, which cannot be explained but which the poet can translate into art.[7]
    Although this was the only time that Keats used the term, this view of aesthetics and rejection of a rationalizing tendency has influenced much commentary on Romanticism and the tenets of human experien

  • Mihaly was a saint of sorts;
    he improved, with his search for understanding,
    lives of so many yearning writers;
    the lame in spirit heard his Zen like words.
    He could not have imagined the journey
    From Hungary to Zurich to Chicago
    A glimpsed mandala led to the heart of the impossible image
    How did he learn to trust the flow?
    The Rhine flowing down to the North Sea
    May start as some minute spring
    At the confluence of the gravity of water and earth.
    And those then who have cast their nets into that sea
    May bring in treasures not found in the business of cities.
    At the first sighting,the image seemed hazy
    Then the words began to flow like current through a wire.
    Like a river cutting slowly through rocks of marble,
    like an unknown sage from the Himalyan Alps
    who had kissed the lips of his muse more than once
    As she floated like a ghost, no,more like music
    Tracing concentric spheres into the air
    Till the universe was singing.
    What was most human was his appetite,his love.
    Touch the hem of his garment,follow your flow
    Cut your path through the hard darkness until you find
    The sunlit sea you were made to swim in
    like a fish in its own sphere.
  • “Happiness awaits for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.”
    No author given [Think]
    [Any strong language is here, of course, because of it rhymes ]
    As I sit here in silence,
    I think about your words;
    I think about your generous heart;
    Play the music that you shared.Why do we hurt the ones we love?

  • Why do we wield the knife
  • when we meet someone we want to keep
    As friends throughout our lives?
  • We all think we want love and joy
    But intimacy’s hard;
    But it’s better to be weeping
    Than never to have shared.

  • You may remain a virgin,
    Unwilling to take risks;
    But I can tell you what I learned:
    Living in fear sucks.
  • The world reaches out to touch us,
    and we shrink away.
    But this may be our final chance…
    So go out and get laid!

  • Get penetrating insights
    By opening your eyes;
    For all too soon, all too soon,
    Each of us must die.

  • I am not writing yet.I’m waiting for the ink to die
    I’m at the Fly Inn,waiting for the police kettle.
    I’m waiting for the other ball to drop.
    I’m waiting for his organ to play
    Wake-up and bill the Mafia
    I had a Wake Up fall.
    I came on the end of the bed and got bowled over
    He talks with the voice the wild western wind
    I talk softly and kiss a cowslip if it’s flowering
    I’m standing on the ink well but it’s still overflowing
    He came to life in the Wild Garden.
    I’m still not writing…I have lost the rites of passage.Oh,God our help with Rages past.
    Our hopes and fears still come.
    Please shelter us from Barclay’s Planck;
    Take us to Kingdom Come.
    The winds of change now blow so strong,
    Yet Thou art mightier still.
    Feed him that bitter pill today
    and his life will be long.

    I downloaded files from inner space.
    I dusted all my books.
    Too many hooks have caught my wrath.
    They gave me filthy looks

    Oh,God,our fantasy and dream,
    where can we find you now?
    Some find you in a still small voice
    Some in a holy Cow.
    I lie in meadows green as grass.
    I see you in a leaf.
    You’re vibrant as a violin string,
    Yet plangent in your grief.


About Katherine

I like art, poetry,history, literature,cooking,doing nothing to music.And conversation
This entry was posted in thoughts and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.