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Karen Hamilton Nov 2015
My chicken without sweetcorn pie
How did it come to this?
Many years we've turned a blind eye
Lived in ignorant bliss

Sometimes I thought "we think too much"
Other times not enough
Now I know we do think too much,
'Cause thinking's not enough

Some things are sent here to try us
That's all they're sent to do,
Some things are sent here to test us
Keep testing we'll push through

We've been through life without a care...
Maybe one too many,
Cold bitter nights with a chilly air
Life can't always be sunny

But don't you worry that sun will shine
Shine down on me and you
Believe;  we're going to be just fine
We're fighters we'll push through

You and me, two peas in a pod
Life long friends - that much is true,
And together we'll beat all odds
Even when hard - this we'll prove

So promise me you won't give up
I'll promise the same to you
And sure enough we'll find our luck
Happy ending's WILL shine through!
"If you are going through Hell, keep going" Winston Churchill

For Amy.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.i never thought of it like that, until today... "keeping" a "pet" fox is really ecological... huh? yeah, really ecological... you don't need a compost heap... apparently foxes are more related to canines than vermin... omnivores... they'll eat meat, but they'll also eat rice soaked in meat juices, with carrots or sweetcorn... ecological pets... come to think of it, my household barely throws anything away... thanks to Oliver Brady... god... those saddened eyes of the wild, pleading, begging... how could i refuse?

i really hate talking
at people, rather than
talking to people...

i should know...
back in merry old England,
i was misdiagnosed
with a mental
illness...
   schizophrenia...

i guess, because,
being bilingual is a case
for a disability if
i don't have an Indian
accent...

which means
all of the Scots are deranged
lunatics...

i play along,
like the good puppy...
why?
i like the drugs...
AMITRYPTALINE...
NAPROXEN...
i know the little book
of prescription says:
DO NOT TAKE
WITH ALCOHOL...

but i, i do...
come to think of it...
leave enough pause...
and you can stop
the air-quote "                 ",
you really can...
just pause long enough
to let the ridicule sink in...

drugged up in England,
because i'm not either
English, or a Somali...
but hell:
             i have the most perfect
soundtrack song...
to feel 1960s groovy...

   puscifer's undertaker
   (renholder mix)....

   so as i listen to these to-and-for
youtube videos,
the internet drama...
that seriously should have
stayed locked down in a high school
playground with a few
punches being thrown...

what a ******* headache...
when will someone join me
in saying: CAN YOU PLEASE STOP?!

that's when i start thinking
about the safety of professions...
truck driver, garbage collector,
plumber, plumber...
at least he gets a ******* ***** theme...

oh i've been cringed with
the mentally ill label...
love it... the drugs are great,
have myself a little cocktail with
the *****, and sleep for over 10 hours...

but it's England...
why am i no surprised?!
  tell me?
           my neighbor thinks it's his
rule of thumb, rather than law,
to tell me what i can & can't do on
my private property?
  
           Bukowski was right:
war, war all the time...
i remember my youthful self...
a boy who believed in love...
       and he once loved..
        
the same boy that decided:
**** it... i'm not here to be accused of
****...
  i'll go to the prostitutes...
i can only be accused of
a non-payment...
              
how did i end up going to that
   18 year old party with only girls
suckling at a male presence like
an octopus about to feed?
  
don't ask: i don't know...

                as that never aging quote
goes:
   the lunatics will lead the blind...
the lunatics... will... lead... the blind...
on the funny side of things...

i'm pretty sure you can only
go "mad" once...
and since the authorities already
used the "mad" card...
i guess i'm just shy of
a close shave with a guillotine...

which is a nice thought to possess...
i'm actually looking
forward to my day-trip
to London tomorrow...

        i'm gagging in spotting
the tourists from the locals,
in the most obscure places...
   **** it... might as well head toward
Hackney and find my
death wish while also fishing
for a pint of Guinness...

   can't drink  Guinness outside of
a pub... you need the patience
to let it flow like a waterfall in slow-motion...

but like i said...
i don't mind the label...
            the drugs are great!
and they befit the perfect
chemistry lab... my my... 'ed,
otherwise known as:

Breezy Brian!
RKM  Mar 2012
Yellow Balloon
RKM Mar 2012
Lips around the base
of a sweetcorn yellow balloon
expanding, turning translucent
its atoms straining, reaching
in a purple attempt to touch fingers
with the next.
Inside, my mirrored breath in lungs
incapacitated
and dry. Sand,
they brought deck chairs and lay
beneath my expanding solar
bubble I am
cultivating, in a gassed
mansion of glass
oblivious. Singed edges
and twisting cells replicating
they laugh in cones and
board planes until there's a

Bellow
And without
Nourishment the balloon
Gulps to die.
Little Bear Jan 2017
Shopping :o)

one bag of flour
the self raising kind
a pound of bacon
without the rind

a loaf of bread
a jar of jam
remember the pickle
to go with the ham

dog food and cat food
cheese and coffee
don't forget raisins
and nuts for the toffee

tomatoes, sundried
get those if you're able,
if you're not sure
it will say on the label

toilet rolls, eggs
shampoo and stir fry
get rolls without seeds
heaven knows why

salad and butter
hot dogs and sauce
get reduced fat, low sugar
and lo salt, of course

chocolate and sweetcorn
chicken and stuffing
a chocolate chip, walnut
and blueberry muffin

pizza with pineapple
ham and some cheese
fairy and cookies
ariel fabreeze

turkey, satsumas
not oranges with pips
tin foil and razors
and food bags with zips

nutella is best
it's the one we like most
so get a big jar
to spread on our toast

boys, thank you for helping
It's a great deal to me
oh, and don't forget cake
and biscuits and tea

i'll leave it to you
if there are things that i've missed
Just get what you think
if it's not on the list.
Bruce Ruston  Feb 2015
We Sat
Bruce Ruston Feb 2015
We sat an’ didn’t like the sweetcorn,
nor the forks, the moon had no quarrel.

The sun had no bite with the wallpaper.
Black, Black the salted air drifted

The colour scented with the taste
of chip’s n’ vinegar
Ursula Wolf Jan 2022
And suddenly I felt so tranquil,
A feeling, like a slow river
Blended my heart into the Sun.
And suddenly I felt so vibrant,
A vision, like a sweetcorn-past
Let my head into the Now.
And suddenly I felt so Me
A revelation, like a calm fall
Flew my eyes into that light void.
Little Bear Jan 2016
One bag of flour
the self raising kind
a pound of bacon
without the rind

A loaf of bread
a jar of jam
remember the pickle
to go with the ham

Dog food and cat food
cheese and coffee
don't forget raisins
and nuts for the toffee

Tomatoes, sun-dried
get those if you're able,
if you're not sure
it will say on the label

Toilet rolls, eggs
shampoo and stir fry
get rolls without seeds
heaven knows why

Salad and butter
hot dogs and sauce
get reduced fat, low sugar,
and lo salt of course

Chocolate and sweetcorn
chicken and stuffing
A chocolate chip, walnut
and blueberry muffin

Pizza with pineapple
ham and some cheese
fairy and cookies
Ariel Fabreeze

Turkey, satsumas
not oranges with pips
tin foil and razors
and food bags with zips

Nutella is best
it's the one we like most
so get a big jar
to spread on our toast

Boys, thank you for doing
the shopping for me
oh, and don't forget cake
and biscuits and tea

I'll leave it to you
if there're things that I've missed
Just get what you think
if it's not on the list.
Re-posted from my previous account..
There are some incredible and truly outstanding poets here, I always feel like my meager offering might just as well be a shopping list compared. So I wrote one just to prove it :o)
Poetic T Jul 2015
Every hole was a goal, and he was
Going to score, she had opened all
The doors the smile told his glee as
A smile spread from him ear to cheek.

***** was the helper, loosened parts
Otherwise locked under lock and
Key. They were in the throws of
Passion entry open for his pole.

Pink was wet, tasty, hairless except
For a ***** line, fingers strayed as
Two finger glistened with nectars
Juice slipped in both awaiting holes.

Love graced pink covered in silk, then
Back doors opened tight fit, squeezed
In moans of pleasure and pain meet, it
Was like bash the ****** swapping greets.

Each was filled, there was only one left.
Her mouth waiting for loves eager meat,
She smiled as lips tongue did meet, in
The throws of unedited passion.

Pigtails were gasped upon, pile driving
As if time running out. Then passion took
Hold as lips did meet, and then the untold
Did unfold, that moment forever silenced.

Tongues meet as fondling each other, then
Sense touched upon texture,

"What's that on you teeth,

She smiles, and all is clear on white, yellow
Stained, food for thought ideas do meet.

"Is that sweetcorn, I didn't eat that this week,

And horror fills faces, neither does speak. just
Gestures on features, thoughts collide and meet.

"I had a salad yesterday,

"But I brushed my teeth, mirror was my witness,
"There was nothing this morning just pearly whites,

And then like a bulb, **** meet meat, greeted upon
Her eager lips, as he heaved and both looked down
Lumps tiny tucked neatly under skins meat. Moved,
Edged back to what was about to greet.

"I think I'm going to be sick......,

Like a corn on the cob but with one kernel missing,
The one on her teeth, both preyed to the porcelain
God, as the truth of every hole did greet, always check
The pipe work, never knowing what you may meet.
janelle  Jun 2017
Yellow Paint
janelle Jun 2017
I live in a bleak block of butter,
And then I wonder suddenly of the splendor
d r a p e d  
in dehydrated dandelions
I call my home

As I saunter inside my sweetcorn shell,
I  s w o o n
over the scent of my dad’s cooking,
and over the symphony of laughter resonating
within these four walls
so I could call it home

I’m entrapped in its grasp
since it ensures my ‘safety’,
it’s a prison that entertains,
but never enlivens me
Filled but  e m p t y;
this is not my home
I wrote this while I was home alone because it feels foreign without anyone around.
Try and you try and you still get it wrong because the learning curve is so ******' long and the nights are much brighter on the dark side of sin
knock,  knock and
we'll let you in.

The telephone wire's stripped bare
electrical impulses no longer there
no voice to control me and my
mind's free to run free,
I should shout yippee but
I won't.
Poetic T Jan 2020
While you were playing FIFA
I was scoring with you mum.
Could hear you through the wall,
as I came in her net, I'd home
goaled in her just for fun.

But it wasn't to disrespect you,
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
Your dad came home when you
were at collage, and I told him
shut the door and sit in the corner
               till I'd finished his wife off.

See he didn't shout or run his mouth
off, cos I knew who he'd been doing
behind her back,
                    none other than my mum.

Now my dads a good man and he loves
my mum, now I'm not making excuses
for her but your dad knew we were happy
and played the unloved man
                   that just needed love.

Well your dad thought she had morning
breath, but na, she's taken my length after
I off loaded in her ***.

But I stayed and watched as your pops  
kissed her passionately.
Dang that must have been a salty kiss
          breath like the sea with raw sewage
and a hint of peppered sweetcorn.

            Now this isn't about you,
this is about men should respect another's
mum, ok I didn't yours, but she knew
that I was a length and your dad was just
             a millimetre short stop.

And I always hit her spot, so god knows
what my mum
                      saw in this old punk.  


After that day, he never did any odd jobs
around my house, and I confided in my
mother that I knew and that I didn't want
anything, I wasn't telling dad. and she cried
and said it was only a kiss and only once.

But she hadn't instigated it, and she'd been
a little drunk. But I saw him ******* coming
out the bedroom sweating? Ye he'd been doing
some DIY, why what have you done.

Nothing Ma, I just told him he wasn't welcome
anymore, are you going around there's again?
Na mom, I'd played a game done to many home
goals, and they suddenly moved on.
   I'll miss my friend but I'll deffo miss his mom.

— The End —