My brother's somewhere hiding,
first comes counting, then comes finding
but this child that I am minding
my last nerve he's tightly winding

Mum and Dad have gone out dining
on their date night, romance shining
while the little brat is whining
hidden in the curtain lining

So I'll get on with my writing
cause it must be more exciting
to be sat here with my rhyming
as my skills they need refining.

Now the little ork is pining
still not found, my name he's crying
eyes accusing me of lying....
Is a pinky promise binding?

There's a meanie on the monkey bars
He's swinging to and fro
He's kicking at the other kids
and telling them to go,
He will not let them play here
it makes the others sad
that was until my brother
came a'crying to my Dad.

My Dad he is a Viking
eyes like oceans, hair of gold,
his shoulders are like boulders
and his glare could turn hell cold
Across the park he walked with Ephraim,
and the monkey bars did mount,
then hurtled straight toward this lad
with his loudest war-cry shout.

The meanie dropped and bolted,
didn't want to wait for more
from this crazy guy, with fury's eye,
feet an inch above the floor.
He made sure every kid was hung
like washing on the line
and then he hung there with them
that crazy Dad of mine.

I don't want to go out dancing
I don't want to "hang" with boys
I don't want to wear a push up bra
(Not that there's much to push)
nor make out in some grubby car.

I don't want to cake on make up
I don't want to weave my hair
I don't want to wear stilettos
Or a skirt cut up to where??

I just want to write my poems
play my games and read my books,
have some decent conversation
not based around a popstars looks
(Or the *** he's *******)

I know I'm odd but please don't judge me
I'm a girl, just not the same
call me names and laugh behind me
call me ******, call me lame.

Maybe someday you will see me,
well payed job and handsome man
and wonder how I got that lucky
just by being who I am.

Yet for now you only see me
as a nerd, a geek, a jest,
Take your hot pink lip gloss, sweetie
and push that pram like all the rest.

collaboration with calpurnia mockingbird*

Bite me, muse
You night time lover
fairweather fickle demon of writes
you shake your stuff in my direction
then run off laughing in the night.

Up yours, muse,
you wanton harlot
spewing fragments, bits of rhymes
take your teasing from my doorstep
sorry *****, don't have the time.

*******, muse
you stinking skiprat
get to steppin' set me free
you mock my gaze with great affection
help me out or leave me be!

******* muse, my new expression
take your words and shove them there
your sun don't shine in my direction
this poems **** but I don't care.

My English teacher asked us
to bring a poem in
one that really speaks to us
that resonates within
I did a lot of research
read poems through the night
Wordsworth, Keats, nor Shakespeare
could help me with my plight
I needed just one poem,
an expression to confess
my deeply burning hatred
of this teacher, unimpressed.
So I rifled through the classics,
through the bigwigs and the toffs
but all I found were thee's and thou's and an awful lot of doths
then I was sent a masterpiece
that describes these thoughts of mine
when this teacher says my poetry
is just a waste of time,
so I'll read it out in class today,
then with the Head I'll end up sat
but I'll always be so grateful
that John Cooper Clarke wrote ****.

My brothers only 2 years old
and as sweet as he can be
for a half a pint sized demon
with his gaze fixed firm on me.
He tries to steal my make up
all my things are his to take
Please mother can we take him back
and soon, for goodness sake!

Take a coin and throw it in
wishes come
to those who chase them.