What did you expect me to say?
Surely you noticed,
I've got a cat anyway.
Love the lush velvet collar
around its throat
but why on earth
have you coloured it's coat?

Yes, I know I love lilac.
Lilac poppies are best.
Oh ****!
I think you need a
hearing test!

Poetry by Kaydee.

Held back by fear.
He said it wasn't him,
it was the beer.
You looked down as
I looked up.
So prosecution seems ****** up.
Look after me?
Oh, you ******' did that.

Writing stopped.
Cried so much.
So much.

I won't be your ugly creation.
I won't.

The light it shines,
My light, it shines.
Someone comfortable with my
untrusting mind, I'll find.
You, I'll find.
You, I'll find.

So walk with me, talk with me.
In time my scars will fade and
together we'll realise the
dreams once made.

Poetry by a tearful Kaydee.

Am I really that uncouth?
Have you lot yet worked out the truth.
The **** I write, it's so contrite.
I know you're dim
but I thought you might.
I've been feeding bananas to you all.
Big bananas, none are small.
All are bent, of course they are.
Enough's enough, it's gone too far.

Dear Voyeurs, to all my fans.
Some ride cycles, some drive vans.
for M&Y, yeah you're the guy.
So I bait my line and continue the lie.
But let's have it right, as well I might.
You wanted to play,
so pretended you're gay.
Now most I know aren't,
but one or two do.

Boiler repair guy with the twinkly eye.
Bent over in two, I spank with a shoe.
And all that he asks is, I call him Sue.
So I have him pegged,
for that's what he begged.
But now he knocks on my door
wanting much more.

******' Big Bent Bananas
by Kaydee.

(slurp, slurp)

You're trouble, you're toil.
Yes, trouble and toil.
With you I think I'll bring to the boil.
A pinch of salt and a teaspoon of oil
but not too much, your taste it'll spoil.

I'll take off your beard.
To eat that would be weird.
But gristle that makes your knees
into crackling . . .
. . . oh yes please.

With mint sauce on each cheek,
two kebabs that are seekh.
Not keen on the chin
so I hope you don't mind,
that goes straight in the bin.

Chop, chew, swallow and digest.
Can you guess which part
of you I like best?
It's your nose that I grate
all around the edge of my plate
and because I've asked "Please"
that you try not to sneeze.
It makes a much better garnish
than parmesan cheese.

Savoury poetry by Kaydee.

The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.

So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.

Poetry by Kaydee.

So humble
and so demure.
Yet . . . . . . .
. . . . you still freak me the ****
out with everything you do.

You amaze me just so
you'll absorb me, I know.
Then we'll both become one.

I've been erased,
now (I'm) no-one.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Promise me, my flesh you'll place
'neath a fledgling willow tree.
And as it grows toward blue sky,
It's in its grace you'll hear me cry.
Laden with the heaviest fears,
resembling, reflecting
my darkest years.

A fragile bone was once my arm,
so likened to the willows charm.
It's branches delicate,
could ne'er do harm.
It's soft and fluffy hand like bud,
encased in skin, the willow's wood.

Hold its hand at branches end.
My message, a vibration,
to you I'll send.
Until the death of said willow tree,
reminding you . . . . .
. . . . . . always of me.

Poetry by Kaydee.