Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Rich Hues Mar 6
My grandmother was a Ximenean,
She carved Araucaria for her shtick
With twisted twigs as fingers,
Her lips stained with a Bic.

She fell in love with Bunthorne
And took him to her bed -
A neatly folded Guardian
That she never ever read.
Rich Hues Jan 29
She's wearing glasses and sits behind glass,
    He's wearing gloves; blue eyes in a mask,
    The note:   "I haz Gun?"  Hastily written,
    Brown eyes meet blue eyes. The brown eyes are smitten.

    In the distance, The Sweeney, all tongs and hammer,
    She's fixing his spelling, correcting his grammar,
    Writing down her number, she slides the note back.
    He was expecting used fivers stuffed in a sack.

    Outside: The driver's impatiently waiting.
    Inside:  Wide open,  blue eyes dilating,
    Then he runs, glancing back, and he's out in the rain,
    From the glass case - a sigh - she'll never see him again.

    But at the end of her shift and in less of a hurry,
    In a whistle with some flowers - he takes her out for a curry.
Rich Hues Jan 26
Straight backed, expressionless and completely serene,
Somewhat wooden and as black as her queen,
He knew she was trouble, he'd met her type before,
She moved to c5 after he'd moved **** to e4.
Rich Hues Jan 21
Dog
A heart carved into the bark of a tree,
A bark from my dog by the side of my knee,
The light had faded,
So too had the hope
Of the boy in the boughs
At the end of his rope.
In  hindsight a little similar to Belle and Sebastian's ' we rule the school'.  Not a deliberate copy -possibly subconscious.  Possibly also different subject too.  29 jan 2019
Rich Hues Jan 13
She is slung like her Blahniks,
   While her chair wears her jacket
And her fingernails play Orpheus
    On a cigarette packet.

A cold goddess in stone
   And in a flounce of french lace,
Gravelled footsteps not moving
   Her resting-*****-face.

So I announce my arrival
   With an unconfident cough,
Her eyes still on the sunset,
   She tells me to...
               *******.
Rich Hues Jan 10
Not that I care or mind, but
True love seems hard to find.
Time was...
      You found a pretty girl,
      Made her your wife,
      Took care of her,
      And were happy for life.
Couples looked out for each other,
Nowadays they just fight one another.

I remember watching my mother
Standing by my father's grave.
Tall, black-veiled and brave -
Then she suddenly collapsed,
- A column of tears.
At least she got fifteen years.
Remorse?  Maybe - of a sort.
Probably just annoyed she got caught.

----
Anon
Rich Hues Jan 8
Morphine,
  Like her sister, Absinthe,  has a slender, glass waist,
  But she is not as green,
  And lacks taste.

  Last night I had a conversation with my father.
  He has been dead for years
  And was asking if I'd seen his keys.

  I woke worrying about what had happened to these.
Next page