Ash Wednesday

For the day that's in it, a little poem I wrote two years ago:

Ash Wednesday

The priest rubs ashes on my head
And tells me to repent.
My sins are very far from dead,
My lusts are far from spent.

That ancient bonfire burns apace,
That blaze of sin and lust.
God send me hotter flames of grace
Before I fall to dust.

Today is also Valentine's Day. Here's a little poem taken from the novel Weaveworld by Clive Barker, which I think is very appropriate to today's double-bill, and is a pretty good poem. I hope Barker's people won't come after me for copyright violation, especially since it's freely available elsewhere on the 'net.

One part of love is innocence
One part of love is guilt
One part the milk, that in a sense
Is soured as soon as spilt
One part of love is sentiment
One part of love is lust
One part is the presentiment
Of our return to dust.

And, since that's all very grim, here's something that made me laugh yesterday. The full title of a joke-book from 1771, which I came across on my library's online catalogue:

The Complete London Jester, or, wit's companion: Containing all the fun and all the humour, all the learning and all the judgment, which have lately slowed from the two universities, from the two theatres, from White's Chocolate-house, from the Bedford Coffee-house; or, from the spouting clubs, and choice spirits clubs in London and Westminster. Including all the fashionable jests, epigrams, merry tales, humorous jokes, bon mots, conundrums, Irish bulls, comical humbugs, droll narrations, smart repartees, new adventures, funny epitaphs, and witticisms. Which will expel care, drown grief, banish the spleen, improve the wit, create mirth, entertain company, and give the reader a light heart, and a chearful countenance. The whole teaching the agreable art of story-telling, and furnishing pieces of wit, for the amusement and improvement of both sexes. The sixth edition. To which is added a genteel collection of the various toasts, sentiments, and Hob-Nobs, now in fashion