My bleeding head

-is throbbing

my eyes are red

-not from sobbing

keep running to the loo

-insides robbing

Alcohol is my nemesis

causes my body too much stress

from now on I abstain

a mantra repeated again and again

The chance smile, the look over the shoulder, the coy quiet wink

Flirting is easier than you think

I’m looking for diamonds only, please

If your bargain basement stay away, ******

Self-belief is a great thing

an attribute that makes my heart sing

Each of us has a certain zing

that makes someone’s bell ring

It may be just your smile

that makes them go that extra mile

Whatever yours is use it

Don’t lose it

People go to bars to chat

So talk, it can be as easy as that

If you have a great personality

that’s what they’ll see

Body language speaks volumes

turn it up, turn it down

not so loud, that you sound like a clown

So take my advice

and good luck finding your mr or mrs nice

A man for all seasons
He’s cool as a breeze
He’s colourful as fall
He floats like a cloud
He can like thunder be loud

He’s fast as lightning
He brings summer with his smile
He can scold and be cold
He can have a dry wit

He has eyes that can freeze
He’ll spring to please
Whatever the weather
You won’t meet better

Ach, a delicah constitution, have I

me auld bones are getting wearier

if somebody sneezes I have a cowld

its getting worser the more I get older

I can’t get a dacent man

but I’m looking as hard as I can

I’ve got a little piece of land

so for a dowry he’d be grand

See, since I buried my first two

it’s not easy to get a beau

and these day’s I’m not such a pretty view

I can be a bit contrary

and my moods oft vary

but unlike my sister Mary

I haven’t got a tash long and hairy

I don’t need any of that *** stuff

I can tell ya that for nuttin

Its help around the farm I’m huntin

I can make a dacent cup-o-tay

and I’m handy at baling the hay

so if your up for a bit of honest toil

and your humour don’t make me blood boil

Come marry Teresa Rafter

when I’m gone you’ll live happily ever after

Artists Skill

raising ordinary to extraordinary

taking the mundane

and playing with your brain

adding a twist here and there

some to lift, some to scare

making you look at things in a different way

allowing your imagination to come out and play

I despair

I’m losing my hair

No girl will care

I’ll just have to use that line so corny

that us balding men are extra *****

Spring, what joy you bring

to every growing, living thing

buds sprout, leaves come out

Winter is giving a might clout

Oh yeah, Spring’s about

I accept you warts an’ all
my heart didn’t see them when it fell
I realise now your a know-it-all
a fact your ever-ready to tell
I finally met my Mr. Right
always ready to fight a cause
remonstrating day and night
didn’t know his first name was always

Oh for a simple life
free from angst and strife
but maybe I’d be bored to tears
if I had no worries or fears
Do I like been kept on my toes?
What would I talk about if not my woes?
Life has led me a merry dance
Would I pick a quiet one, if I had a chance?

Betrayal of trust
moment of lust
confess I must
mightn’t see him for dust

I can’t look him in the eyes
the love he can’t disguise
myself I despise
time for no more lies

There’s a baby on the way
I know he’ll say hooray
so I have to tell him today
this game I can’t play

I love him dearly
wasn’t thinking clearly
must clean out debris
forgiveness, hopefully

Ignored my intuition
lived to regret my folly
let down my inhibitions
he ran off with my lolly

His twisted dysfunctional lies
I believed without question
my emotions he assailed
his lies too many too mention

Won’t give in to resentment
leave disappoint behind me
I’m sure my money he’s spent
my bright future worth every penny

He’s a lesson well learnt
my eyes well and truly open
my fingers badly burnt
he’ll get his comeuppance, I’m hoping

My changing landscape
must mellow out a bit
need an escape
head full to the hilt

Trying to be philosophical
and remain logical
life has its own map
things will fall into my lap

hunger for the big, wide yonder
to many thoughts to ponder
claustrophobia setting in
wish I could go wandering

I’ll stop looking for short cuts
stop with the ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’
won’t jump in with two feet
let destiny give me a treat

Teeth chattering like castanets

fingers coloured bright blue

I’m going to catch my death

this football watching I rue

I swear he’s coming to ballet

he can cringe at men in tights

the pirouettes make my day

his torture, my delight

Sitting behind the curtain
deep inside hurting

peeping out the window
praying they’d just go

Taunts, jeers, stones
sadness seeping into her bones

What has she done?
nothing, she’s just one

Eggs, yogurt thrown
all her hope flown

already been reported
but harder they retorted

She no longer asks for help
with each new pain a little yelp

She’s drowning in despair
nobody seems to care

Atmosphere charged with fantasy
tonight will he kiss me
an involuntary shiver ripples through me
he’s teasing me mercilessly
imagined bliss felt longingly

I try to capture every ounce of him
he has an hypnotic magnetism
that grips my glance
my lips quiver, askance


Goose-pimples stand out on my arms
alert to all his obvious charms
my reaction alarms
as an uncontrollable urge swarms


He does it to me every time
watching him on screen, sublime
he’s the gorgeous movie star
and to him I would travel far

My first love
not love
an obsession
an all consuming need

School
what’s that?
plans gone
at the drop of his hat

Every waking moment
filled with him
every dream contained him

I fell pregnant at nineteen
had fell for him at thirteen
I had a beautiful son
he became my new obsession

My beau was no longer
my sole reason for living
no longer (him) all my attention giving

He was jealous of his own son
something even now I can’t comprehend

He never hit me before
this being that I adored
for months he wore me down
on my face a worried frown

I had to go home to mum
tail between my legs
got my own place sorted
all plans with him aborted

He went on to do evil acts
I’m not privy to all the facts
he died alone in a prison cell
couldn’t handle his private hell

He’s left a scar on my heart
one from which I don’t want to part
because he had me beguiled
and gave me my darling child

He’s a ghost from the past
that I feared would haunt me forever
now I rarely think of him if ever

I have a personality for every occasion
If you want extrovert my voice I will be raising

If you want quiet
I’ll keep my tone light

If you want rude,
listen up *****

If you want crazy
Just call me Daisy

If you want a bore
I can make conversation a chore

Whatever you want I’ll bring along
Inside I’ll be singing my own song

Land of saints and scholars

not for us dog collars

no tying me up

only church wine, I sup

if I’m bound

it’s to the sink

head bowed and shouldn’t think

no *** please, I’m Irish

no flattery, that’s fresh

birth control is down to rhythm

stop those little ***** swimming

not allowed use a ******

I’ll have to take it up the ***

Ever-darkening storm clouds
cluttering up my perfect blue sky
their temper my peace shrouds
awaiting for them to let fly

Raining on my parade
no room in my world for a grinch
keeping up my happy charade
from their expression I flinch

I sneakily exit the room
returning to my contented place
they can drown in doom and gloom
on my visage, their mood, no trace

Burying my own wants under some man’s
keeping them locked away
but there still there, never go astray
lurking in the shadows of my mind

Raising their head now and then
but smothered by his needs
pandering to his whim
nothing matters but him

that was before I discovered self-esteem
realised I can chase my own dream
knowledge makes me feel supreme
grinning like the cat that got the cream

He takes out the trash, or makes dinner

thinks he’s cleaned the whole house

he’s not capable of being quiet as a mouse

full of self-praise

himself, he amaze

selective hearing and speech

sometimes hard to reach

never practices what he preach

loveable and incorrigible

he’s not interchangable

Hugging my pillow

it smells of you

wilting like a willow

I’m lost without you

He touches my cheek
as light as a butterfly’s wing
He sends tingles down my spine
with that look that says your mine

Fills me with bliss
gentle forehead kiss
Our fingers entwined
a silent message of trust

His gentle caresses
slowly undresses
Together in ecstasy
nowhere else I wanna be

Standing at a crossroads

not knowing which way to turn

one could be salvation

one crash and burn

No control over his life

drugs and alcohol addicted

all his vices self-inflicted

pleasing anyone who’d buy him a drink

not much lower could he sink

Rehab or an early grave

a decision he could no longer stave

to his addictions a slave

Something had to give

if he wanted to live

he was the only one that

could make the choice

he’d take nobody’s advice

he thought just one more

nobody’s keeping score

he died in a doorway

with a smile on his face

just one hit brought him to another place

Standing at a crossroads

he took the wrong turn

Penning naughty poetry

fills me with childish glee

pushing away boundaries

religion pegged on me

writing myself free

Child custody battle

herded like cattle

child not given a choice

lives with the loudest voice

Parents argue continuously

child listens listlessly

carted from pillar to post

who loves me the most?

Please listen to the child

their emotions running wild

stuck in the middle of a fight

seeking peace with all their might

Oh, look at you all dressed up
standing there like butter wouldn’t melt
I hope she’s worth it

First noticed your new scent
hours in bathroom spent
cuddles on sofa I lament

Your smile when receiving a text
not from work I suspect
unanswered calls in my presence next

I can’t bring it up yet
I’m hoping there’s still some doubt
my lack of trust found out

Your going on a business trip
I’m keeping mum, not letting rip
If I’m right your getting the snip

When did it all go wrong?
back in your arms, I belong
I’ll be penning a spinster song

A destructive cuckoo in the nest

trouble causing what he do best

he’ll put your patience to the test

with one eye open he like to rest

Loves being an annoying pest

mischief chasing with zest

I’d like to cough him of my chest

My temper he play with and ******

I held him longer on my breast

my favourite, my maternal lust

my confession hidden in his dust

Love so explosive, I could burst

Blossomed daffodils
gracing windowsills
bluebells bloom
lighting the gloom
fields of green
lush and serene
silver birch trees
whistling in the breeze
natures glory
never-ending story

I’m on my last nerve
and your standing on it
my mood needs to swerve
like zapping a zit
my mouth needs to curve
but I’m down in a pit
I’ve lost my verve
vanished my wit
my bed I crave
from this day I quit

Curve-a-licious

just delicious

real women have bumps

if I was a man I’d ****

I’d not want to play with your bones

I’d have a bone(r) of my own

relish your female form

be yourself, don’t conform

Your fingers curling in my hair

knew I should have shaved there

you asked me had I got a brush

knew I wasn’t getting your tongues touch

I’m waiting
waiting
through my day
for a poetic idea
to come my way
to waft on by
and
hopefully
catch my eye

I’m waiting
daydreaming
dilly-dallying
doodling
my time away
waiting for my
brain to go astray
if a poem
happens my way
it’s never a wasted day

The grass is always green on the other side of life
inhabitants free from trouble and strife
money is flowing, happiness is rife

They never have to learn by their mistakes
no floods, no cutbacks, no heartaches
every day full of lucky breaks

What do they reach for?
what’s eating away at their core?
Do they remember a time before?

I’ll stay on this side
success a source of pride
skills have to be employed

How can we get up if we never fall?
We can’t answer if no-one calls
you have to fail to grow *****

So today I’m going to be the best me
swimming in a sea of uncertainty
experiencing everything is healthy

Everyday we strive
hope makes us thrive
life’s short, no-one survives

Falling for toxic boys
when will we realise
Mr. Wrong wreaks havoc
whereever he goes
leaving behind a litany of woes

What’s the attraction of the bad lad?
known universally as a cad
pure catnip for some women
in their pool I won’t be swimming

Maybe their addicted to drama
flying in the face of karma
is ungentlemanly behaviour mistaken for passion
or wearing a lothario the new fashion

Their well versed in the art of seduction
continuously rehearsing their next production
maybe romance with a ladies man is a headrush
back in the day I had many a bad lad crush

Frank fraternized with females
frolicing, flirting, fun
fantastic, fanciful feelings
Fabricating fantasies

Cupid’s arrow snook up on me

darted my heart gleefully

he could have given a part-time thrill

but no he went for the ****

pierced me for eternity

paved the path for matrimony

I’d love to give him a big kiss

and hope your heart he hasn’t missed

She shoots from the hip
tongue sharp as a whip
always loaded with a quip
Ready and able to let rip

She’s a miss-know-it-all
loves a bar-room brawl
always amongst it all
smirking wildly, standing tall

She’s a heart of gold
just do what your told
dare to be bold
she’ll get you in a hold

Many fear her
more adore her
She’s never a bore
I always want more

Just a cowgirl poet
One I love to read and quote
She certainly rocks my boat
Which I was a horse she rode

Perched on his knee
a time of glee
we were going to play horsey
jumping up and down
always acting the clown
he made me giddy with joy
my uncle, a big strapping boy

My memories are distant
I wrack my brain, torment
trying to think when we stopped visiting
parents busy, his life not permitting

He went down a wrong track
couldn’t find his way back
alcohol ruled him, so I’m told
he still young, but his body old
he died at thirtythree
alone unfortunately
I’ll always remember him with a smile
he was my role model for a long while

If he read my poems

I think he’d be shocked

if through my mind he roamed

his content little world would be rocked

Because every now and then the real me writes

not fantasy, or make-believe, but me

my soul pens it’s plight

Could he distinguish fiction from reality?