Listening Face

18 Jan

I’m trying to keep my listening face
From showing how I feel
Emotions under the skin-covered space
Churn and whirl and reel

I wonder if I simply told the truth
Would you even hear?
Would my words strike you as uncouth?
Would you recoil in fear?

And as I stand here, still listening
Thoughts run through my head
The spittle on your lips is glistening
And I’m afraid I’ve lost the thread


Catholic Guilt

15 Jan

My dark desires
Filthy mouth
And dirty deeds (potential)
By instruction (torrential)

O’ moral code
Where would I be
Without your guiding light?
Or knee-deep in shite?

Morning person

6 Jan

Glittery in morning
with the early sun
bouncing out of bed
irritating ev’ryone

Shimmery at noontime
helped along by lunch
peanut butter sandwich
packs a power punch

Dimmer in the evening
barely luminous
impatient of little ones
causing such a fuss

Ditchwater at night
spent and craving bed
haunted by night owls
Twit twooing in my head

In answer to Poet Rummager’s question

In the Absence of Moonlight

5 Jan

My beam sweeps the night
As chittering, fluttering things
Laugh beyond its light
While I search for you
Blackness infinite
Overwhelms me with despair
To think that I might
Not see you again


Potshot… potshot… CLUSTERBOMB!

21 Oct

You snapped my finger
But it’s ok
Gave up piano when I was young

You punctured my lung
But I’ll be fine
I’ve got a spare in here somewhere

You broke my heart
I had just one
And now I’m gonna break yours…


In the back of my car

18 Oct

When times get tough
And the hounds are snapping
I’ll be napping
In the back of my car

There are people at work
And a million birds flapping
While I’m here napping
In the back of my car

It’s such a great feeling
I can hear the tyres squealing
I’m oblivious dreaming
In the back of my car

It’s time to wake up now
A traffic warden is tapping
I’ve got to stop napping
In the back of my car

It’s such a great feeling
Though a ticket’s not appealing
I’m oblivious dreaming
In the back of my car.

Unfinished Business – day 30 of NaPoWriMo

8 May

Detective John Bono was a little bit green
He flunked out of college with a bogus degree
The one thing he passed: Crime 101
Was enough to earn him a badge and a gun

Our young detective was first on the scene
There he was met by the maid Celestine
She had a fine reputation as a French domestic
And possessed other skills stereotypically gallic

The maid led the gumshoe to the body
Lying in a pool of blood in the lobby
When he saw the victim he started to panic
If the butler’d been done in the butler didn’t done it!

Bono was flustered by this revelation
Which flew in the face of his education
He put in a call to the forensics cops
But too late! Celestine had cleaned it all up!

The rookie went walking to clear his head
Suddenly – a scream! Another was dead!
The lord of the manor with a knife in his back
Lay testament to a fatal attack

Our detective was joined by his superiors
They looked at the victim with ‘oohs’ and ‘errs’
They couldn’t figure who’d turned up his toes
So they decided to give up and call the case closed.

Before leaving the house, Bono went up the stairs
To take care of pressing urinary affairs
Outside a door he heard a commotion
And entered to find there, locked in devotion…

Celestine and the butler – both red in the face
Discovered in their compromising embrace
Bono spotted the handy handcuffs
Snapping them on the butler before he got tough

Detective John Bono was the toast of the town
For sending the death-faking criminals down
The gumshoe’s dumb luck had allowed him to smash
Their plan to rob the Lord of life then his cash

I need to credit skat (though she might not want the credit having read it) as the idea behind this poem was her brain-child. I couldn’t let it go and I’m delighted to have completed another napowrimo, even though the quality has (once again) been decidedly suspect!




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