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Mystery Poem

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kokomo | 20:39 Sun 17th May 2020 | Arts & Literature
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Does anyone know the author of the poem/reading which states that love is remembering to take the bins out, renew the insurance etc?
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Sorry, no. But if love is a good memory, then I can never love anyone.
Joyce Brothers said....marriage is not just a spiritual communion..it's also remembering to take out the trash...
But just a quote not a reading or poem.
if it's ''Love is....'' cartoons, it's Kim Casili
Sounds like John Cooper Claaaaaaarch territory.
John cooper clark, is it he wot wrote:
Some **** used the N word?
John Cooper Clarke did, yes.
I’m surprised anyone knows what Cooper Clarke says other than the F word. Cannot stand the man. Dave took me to see him live for a treat. Walked out after fifteen minutes.
Don't know about that one, but here's a favourite on the same subject, called Recension Day:

Unburn the boat, rebuild the bridge,
Reconsecrate the sacrilege,
Unspill the milk, decry the tears,
Turn back the clock, relive the years
Replace the smoke inside the fire,
Unite fulfilment with desire,
Undo the done, gainsay the said,
Revitalise the buried dead,
Revoke the penalty and the clause,
Reconstitute unwritten laws,
Repair the heart, untie the tongue,
Change faithless old to hopeful young,
Inure the body to disease
And help me to forget you please.

by Duncan Forbes
I can confirm he's no Pam Ayres.
another poem on the same lines

'Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone'

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W H Auden
Is this any good?



Love is...

Love is feeling cold in the back of vans

Love is a fanclub with only two fans

Love is walking holding paintstained hands

Love is.

Love is fish and chips on winter nights

Love is blankets full of strange delights

Love is when you don't put out the light

Love is

Love is the presents in Christmas shops

Love is when you're feeling Top of the Pops

Love is what happens when the music stops

Love is

Love is white panties lying all forlorn

Love is pink nightdresses still slightly warm

Love is when you have to leave at dawn

Love is

Love is you and love is me

Love is prison and love is free

Love's what's there when you are away from me

Love is...
Adrian Henri

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