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Brent Kincaid Jan 2016
Iddy Biddy Bopping Boy
Dancing by age of three.
Dancing for the feel of joy,
What a happy sight to see.
Jigging, jogging, boogywoog
Like folks six times his age.
Iddy Biddy Bopping Boy
He became the local rage.

As soon as music played
His feet began to move
The rest of his tiny body
Bounced with the groove.
He’d get that happy look, then
He’d slip and slide and wiggle
And anyone around him would
Smile and then begin to giggle.

He was so young to do it
To have a style this cool
But nobody ever argued
They’d be a purentee fool.
The Iddy Biddy Bopping Boy
Was cool and smooth and clean.
He was the dude, the man;
The pint-sized dancing machine.

Iddy Biddy Bopping Boy
Dancing by age of three.
Dancing for the feel of joy,
What a happy sight to see.
Jigging, jogging, boogywoog
Like folks six times his age.
Iddy Biddy Bopping Boy
Becoming all the rage.
Nigel Morgan Nov 2012
My first memory of a loom was as a seven year old. I had been taken to visit this school my parents had so often spoken about and for which I had been carefully prepared. I had endured Mrs Martin's violin lessons every Saturday morning and could play after a fashion. She used to call me Tishee after a racehorse who used to stand with its legs crossed. But I could sing . . and I belonged to a family dynasty of choristers. So after a bout of auditions, to which both my mother and father accompanied me, I found myself entering the headmaster's house. And there in an immaculate room with a floor to ceiling window I saw my first Scandinavian furniture and what I now know to be a vertical rug and tapestry loom.
 
I had never seen anything so mysterious and beautiful. I realise now as I examine this memory it was not just this loom and the partially completed textile on its frame but the effect of the room it occupied and its aspect, the way the garden beyond the vast window invited itself into the interior space.
 
Biddy, as we boys called the headmaster's wife, was the most interesting woman I had ever met. I realise now how much she became my first model of womanhood. A graceful figure, bobbed hair, always simply dressed in a vivid coloured shirt of blue or red and a grey skirt, always walking purposefully, and when she spoke to you she acknowledged you as a real person, wholly, never as just a boy, but someone she gave her whole self to address. As I grew older she entered my dreams and even now her voice, that I came later to know as Varsity and Beneden bred, I can hear now. And she was a weaver.
 
Every afternoon she shut the door of her workroom with its large window and was not available, even to her beautiful children.
 
It was a year before I dared to talk to her about her loom. I remember her surprise. How lovely you should ask she said. Come after Evensong and I'll introduce you. And I went . .
 
It was May and she was wearing a grey smock that fell over slacks. She smelt like a forest in high summer, resinous. She wore sandals and a gentle smile. You may touch she said, and so I did, and as I did she quietly named the parts - the beater, the leashes, the warp, the reed. It was though I already knew these things but in another time and place. I was just renewing my acquaintance.
 
So, little by little, I would find myself sitting in the corner of Biddy's garden studio in the long summer afternoon's when my disappointing prowess on the cricket field allowed me freedom. I sat and watched and wondered. I imagined a day when I would have a room and a loom and wife like Biddy with whom I could talk about all those things I so wanted to share but had no one to share them with. This was before adoration became confused with ***, such a wonderful time in a boy's life.
 
As I sit at my loom in my studio high above a city street and my hands touch the yarn, pull the beater against the fell of this sample for my first  rug, place my stockinged foot on the outside treadle, I can almost sense the scent of Biddy Allen, feel her graceful presence, hear her Oxford voice and spirited laugh. For me she will always be a defining presence of the feminine and her long fingers on her loom conjure the essence of the making of beautiful things.
Terry Collett Jan 2013
She sits on the chair
her wavy hair
still neatly in place
putting on her stockings

as he stands
with his back
to the window
gazing at her

she pauses
her fingers holding
the stocking tops
and looks at him

and says
in her sluttish French
do you want me
back tomorrow?

there is a draught
from the window
touching his naked back
sending a shiver

along his spine
sure
he says
but make it a little later

the wife’s got
a show to see
and she doesn’t leave
till just after 8

ok
she says
pulling up
the stocking

and fixing it
to the clip
shall I bring anything
with me?

no just yourself
he says
and maybe wear
that tight skirt

and creamy blouse
and those black stockings
she stands
and pulls down

her slip
to cover
her underwear
and looks around

for her dress
look
he says beware
of the concierge

she’s a nosey old biddy?
she asks
biddy what is that?
just be careful of her

he says
don’t let her
see you leave
or she’ll tell

the wife
oh I see
sure I will be careful
of the biddy

she says
picking up her dress
from the chair
by the bed

and as she turns away
he studies
her neat ***
the way she climbs

into the dress
her hands so quick
in movement
the finger so precise

like those of a pickpocket
and he sees her leg rise
the stockinged leg
the fineness of the thigh

then she turns toward him
and she smiles
and she starts
on the other leg

and he wonders
what his wife would say
if she came in now
how’d she’d look

then it’s over
the dame’s dressed
puts on her coat
and picks up her bag

and takes the money
he’d put on the desk
and shoves it
into the bag

and sighs
and leaves
and as she goes out
the door

waggling her ***
he knows
he wants her back
some more.
PrttyBrd May 2017
There was music in his voice
as he whispered his name in ancient tones
straight through my core

My spirit danced
as it basked in familiarity
and pain

I could feel the music reconstitute
a desiccated heart
as it regenerated belief in people...in him

In an instant, I knew what I was once sure of
I knew that, sight unseen, I was bonded
with a soul born in tandem

Circumstance be ******
there will be love
for I already loved you

The second your name sung to my essence
and I realized...

you loved me
52917 ©
HI DUDES AND WELCOME TO THE MOON, HERE IS MY FIRST SONG


WE DON’T NEED NO EDUCAYION, OR WE DON’T NEED KNOW DISCIPLINE

OR WE NEVER NEED PEOPLE TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO

NO, WE NEVER NEED OH NOSEREE

BUT I GOT UP, AND SANG THIS SONG SO LOUD

YEAH OH YEAH BOW BOW

ALL THE PROBLEMS IN THE SCHOOL YARD, WE NEVER NEED THUAT, NO

YOU SEE STRONG KIDS PICKING ON THE WEAK AND VONERABLE

AND FORCING THE WEAK AND VONERABLE TO BE LIKE THEM

JUST BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS OF THEM

WE NEVER NEED ANY DISCIPLINE, DUDE, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, DUDE

BUT WE NEED TO GET RID OF SCHOOL SHOOTINGS YEAH

TOO MANY DUDES ARE GETTING SHOT YEAH

WE NEED TO STOP- THAT, ONCE AND FOR ALL

BECAUSE KIDS ARE INNOCENT, REALLY INNOCENT

THEY DON’T DESERVE TO BE KILLED

YOU CAN’T REFORM THESE SCHOOL SHOOTERS, OH NO

YOU CAN’T REFORM OH NOSEREE, YOU CAN NEVER REFORM THEM NO

SO THE DISCIPLINE, IS MIGHTY BIG IN SCHOOLS

WE NEED TO MAKE KIDS UNDERSTAND, THAT THIS KIND OF DISCIPLINE IS TO PROTECT THEM

LIKE THE SOUND OF THE GUN, IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE, YEAH YOUR NOT READY

FOR THIS WORLD YET, SO GO TO YOUR NEXT WORLD

AND LOVE LIFE, OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE IS DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVR TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNC

WE DRINK IN MODERATION

AND WE NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER GET ROLLING DRUNK
\
WE DRINK IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY

WHERE THE ATMOSPHERE IS GREAT

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

CAUSE HE IS MY MATE

I HATE HEARING MY MATE, YEAH I HATE HEARING HIM YEAH

I HATE BEING TOLD THAT ME AND MY BRO AIN’T LIKE US

IN EVERY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION

I HATE MY MATE, TRYING TO GET ME TO BE A WILD COOL BOY, OH YEAH

I JUST WANT TO SIT IN MY CHAIR, AND DO MY ART AND WRITING AND GIVE FEEDBACK TO YOUTUBE YA SEE

I HATE HIM SAYING I AM LIKE HIM, HE IS A CRAZY ******* OH YEAH

HE SAYS WHEN I GO TO THE SPORT TRYING TO BE LIKE US ARE WE

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INTO SPORT OH YEAHJ

AND IF I SAY, I AM INTO THE ARTS, I MEAN I WATCH YOUTUBE WHILEST DOING MY TAPESTRY

I AM NOT A SHY PERSON, WHO DOES WHAT THE COOL KIDS USED TO DO

NO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING

IF THEY SAY I AM SQUARE, THEY ARE JUST JEALOUS OF MY TALENT AND POWER

I DON[’T WHAT I FEEL, I DO WHAT I WANT, IF I FEEL LIKE I DON[’T WANNA DO IT

I WILL PUSH MYSELF, CAUSE MY SHY MAN IS COMING, BUT THAT IS DAD

TRYING TO EXPLAIN THAT I AM THE SHYPERSON, BUT I AM THE ARTIST WRITER AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

A SHYPERSON IS A STUPID WORD, NO I AM A WRITER AND A ARTIST AND A YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

THERE IS ONE VOICE BY PATRICK SAYING, BRIAN’S GETTING TEASED

BUT I AM NOT INTO TEASING, BULLYING, FIGHTING, NO NEVER FOR ME

I AM INTIO HAVING FUN, YA KNOW, I USED TO BE A LITTLE SHY BOY, OR A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE

WHO APPEARED TOO SHY TO GO TO BED, WELL, I AM STILL NOT GOING TO BED

AND YOU CAN SHOVE GO TE BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY

GO TO BED BABY, YOU NEED YOUR SLEEP, YEAH, BETTER THAN SITTING ON YA CHAIR LIKE A MAN

GO TO BED BABY, YOU AREN’T LIKE US NO, I AM HAPPY SITTING THERE DOING MY ART, SITTING RIGHT HERE

YA SEE, I DON’T LOOK AT ME LEGS IN THAT WAY, THIS IS MY WAY OF GETTING REFORMED

I HATE GOING TO BED, SON, LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I WANT TO BE FAMOUS, SO I PRACTICE ON YOUTUBE, I WANT TO AN ARTIST, SO I DO MY TAPESTRIES SITTING ON THE COUCH

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR PAT’S VOICE, OH NO, OF HIM TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID, OH NO

I KNOW THE WORLD, WOULD LIKE WHAT I DO, I AM NO SHY PERSON, SO LEAVE ME ALONE

I LIKE PATRICK, BUT I HATE HIS VOICE IN MY HEAD TELLING ME TO GO TO BED, I AM

ONE PERSON WHO DOESN’T LIKE GOING TO BED, I FALL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH, BUDDY

AND I GO TO ATHENA EVERY NIGHT, SHE WORKS ON MY TEETH, AND IT’S MORE PAINFUL IN WAYS

BUT IT WORKS FOR ME, HE SAYS GO TO BED BABY, GO TO BED BABY, I KNOW I AM A BABY

TOO COOL TO GO TO BED, I LOVE COMPUTERS, THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

PAT HATES COMPUTERS, I DON’T CARE, I LIKE COMPUTERS, CAUSE THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

ME AND PATRICK ARE DIFFERENT, BRIAN LOVES COMPUTERS, PAT HATES COMPUTERS

BRIAN IS WILLING TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF HIM, PAT, IS HAPPY BEING A WATCHER

BRIAN WILL ALWAYS BE A DOER, WATCH AAA YOUTUBE TV, LOOK AT MY ART ON ART COLONY

WATCH AARON CLAYTON AND READ WRITER JOE’S STUFF ON WRITERS CAFE

YA SEE BRIAN IS ON THE COMPUTER’S INTERNET IN A BIG WAY

I HAVE MANY MATES ON FACEBOOK AND TWITTER, AND I DO GET VIEWS ON YOUTUBE

CAUSE I AM FAMOUS, NOW PAT, I STILL LIKE YOU, PATRICK, BUT I CAN’T SHARE MY VIEWS ON COMPUTERS

IT’S EASY TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF YA, I AM NOT TOO WOOSEY FOR THAT

I NEED TO DO THIS, SO I DON’T LOOK AT KIDS LEGS, SO KIDS DON’T FEEL INSECURE.I LIKE KIDS I LIKE KIDS

I CAN WRITE STORIES, IT’S NOT TOO HARD, I AM ON THE MOON SAYING

I WISH I HAD A MONEY TREE, FROM THE INTERNET, AND GO TO THE COMPUTER AND TEAR SOME MONEY

OFF THE INTERNET, TO MY BANK ACCOUNT, THAT’LL BE SO COOL

PATRICK IS TREATING ME LIKE A SHY BOY, I HATED PEOPLE SAYING, I AM TOO SHY TO BE LIKEB THEM

I AM TOO COOL TO BE LIKE THEM

I AM A WRITER

I AM AN ARTIST

I AM A YOUTUBE, PARTNER, PERFORMER, AND AN ENTERTAINER

I AM BETTER THAN THE PEOPLE IN MY VOICES
\
I HATE BEING LABELLED A RICH **** OR A **** IN EVERY SHAPE OR FORM

ALL BECAUSE I AM ON THE COPMUTER BIG TIME

HERE IS A SONG

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY\ TO THE CHIMP

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE CHIMP BACK TO THE MONKEY

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY TO THE CHIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATE, YOU ARE A WIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATEM YOU ARE A WIMP

YA SEE PATRICK DOESN’T WANT TO HASSLE ME FOR WHAT I SAY

HE LIKES ME, FOR I AM COOL

I DON’T WANT TO WHAT I USED TO DO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO

I DON’T WANT PEOPLE MUCKING WITH ME LIKE THEY USED TO MUCK WITH ME

CAUSE I AM A FAMILY PERSON, BUDDY

I HATE MY VOICES OF PAT IN MY HEAD SAYING, ONLY FAMILY PEOPLE DO THIS OB BRIAN

I SAY, YEAH I AM A FAMILY PERSON, THEM PAT SAYS I AM NOT YA DADDY

AND THEN SAYS GO TO BED, BABY, I SAID, NEH, MY BED IS MY CHAIR

AND MY CHAIR IS WHERE I SIT AND DO ART

SO, STOP TREATING ME LIKE AN OLD BIDDY, I AM A CREATIVE YOUNG DUDE

I AM NOT FUCKEN SHY, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE PAL
i am performing on the moon
Little Sweat Bee , employ of Spring
Where lies your abode in the afterwork evening
A lair within the grass , a hole in a Oak tree
Little biddy Bee , will you come home with me  ?
Copyright March 31 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
HI DUDES AND WELCOME TO THE MOON, HERE IS MY FIRST SONG


WE DON’T NEED NO EDUCAYION, OR WE DON’T NEED KNOW DISCIPLINE

OR WE NEVER NEED PEOPLE TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO

NO, WE NEVER NEED OH NOSEREE

BUT I GOT UP, AND SANG THIS SONG SO LOUD

YEAH OH YEAH BOW BOW

ALL THE PROBLEMS IN THE SCHOOL YARD, WE NEVER NEED THUAT, NO

YOU SEE STRONG KIDS PICKING ON THE WEAK AND VONERABLE

AND FORCING THE WEAK AND VONERABLE TO BE LIKE THEM

JUST BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS OF THEM

WE NEVER NEED ANY DISCIPLINE, DUDE, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, DUDE

BUT WE NEED TO GET RID OF SCHOOL SHOOTINGS YEAH

TOO MANY DUDES ARE GETTING SHOT YEAH

WE NEED TO STOP- THAT, ONCE AND FOR ALL

BECAUSE KIDS ARE INNOCENT, REALLY INNOCENT

THEY DON’T DESERVE TO BE KILLED

YOU CAN’T REFORM THESE SCHOOL SHOOTERS, OH NO

YOU CAN’T REFORM OH NOSEREE, YOU CAN NEVER REFORM THEM NO

SO THE DISCIPLINE, IS MIGHTY BIG IN SCHOOLS

WE NEED TO MAKE KIDS UNDERSTAND, THAT THIS KIND OF DISCIPLINE IS TO PROTECT THEM

LIKE THE SOUND OF THE GUN, IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE, YEAH YOUR NOT READY

FOR THIS WORLD YET, SO GO TO YOUR NEXT WORLD

AND LOVE LIFE, OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE IS DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVR TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNC

WE DRINK IN MODERATION

AND WE NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER GET ROLLING DRUNK
\
WE DRINK IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY

WHERE THE ATMOSPHERE IS GREAT

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

CAUSE HE IS MY MATE

I HATE HEARING MY MATE, YEAH I HATE HEARING HIM YEAH

I HATE BEING TOLD THAT ME AND MY BRO AIN’T LIKE US

IN EVERY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION

I HATE MY MATE, TRYING TO GET ME TO BE A WILD COOL BOY, OH YEAH

I JUST WANT TO SIT IN MY CHAIR, AND DO MY ART AND WRITING AND GIVE FEEDBACK TO YOUTUBE YA SEE

I HATE HIM SAYING I AM LIKE HIM, HE IS A CRAZY ******* OH YEAH

HE SAYS WHEN I GO TO THE SPORT TRYING TO BE LIKE US ARE WE

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INTO SPORT OH YEAHJ

AND IF I SAY, I AM INTO THE ARTS, I MEAN I WATCH YOUTUBE WHILEST DOING MY TAPESTRY

I AM NOT A SHY PERSON, WHO DOES WHAT THE COOL KIDS USED TO DO

NO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING

IF THEY SAY I AM SQUARE, THEY ARE JUST JEALOUS OF MY TALENT AND POWER

I DON[’T WHAT I FEEL, I DO WHAT I WANT, IF I FEEL LIKE I DON[’T WANNA DO IT

I WILL PUSH MYSELF, CAUSE MY SHY MAN IS COMING, BUT THAT IS DAD

TRYING TO EXPLAIN THAT I AM THE SHYPERSON, BUT I AM THE ARTIST WRITER AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

A SHYPERSON IS A STUPID WORD, NO I AM A WRITER AND A ARTIST AND A YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

THERE IS ONE VOICE BY PATRICK SAYING, BRIAN’S GETTING TEASED

BUT I AM NOT INTO TEASING, BULLYING, FIGHTING, NO NEVER FOR ME

I AM INTIO HAVING FUN, YA KNOW, I USED TO BE A LITTLE SHY BOY, OR A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE

WHO APPEARED TOO SHY TO GO TO BED, WELL, I AM STILL NOT GOING TO BED

AND YOU CAN SHOVE GO TE BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY

GO TO BED BABY, YOU NEED YOUR SLEEP, YEAH, BETTER THAN SITTING ON YA CHAIR LIKE A MAN

GO TO BED BABY, YOU AREN’T LIKE US NO, I AM HAPPY SITTING THERE DOING MY ART, SITTING RIGHT HERE

YA SEE, I DON’T LOOK AT ME LEGS IN THAT WAY, THIS IS MY WAY OF GETTING REFORMED

I HATE GOING TO BED, SON, LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I WANT TO BE FAMOUS, SO I PRACTICE ON YOUTUBE, I WANT TO AN ARTIST, SO I DO MY TAPESTRIES SITTING ON THE COUCH

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR PAT’S VOICE, OH NO, OF HIM TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID, OH NO

I KNOW THE WORLD, WOULD LIKE WHAT I DO, I AM NO SHY PERSON, SO LEAVE ME ALONE

I LIKE PATRICK, BUT I HATE HIS VOICE IN MY HEAD TELLING ME TO GO TO BED, I AM

ONE PERSON WHO DOESN’T LIKE GOING TO BED, I FALL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH, BUDDY

AND I GO TO ATHENA EVERY NIGHT, SHE WORKS ON MY TEETH, AND IT’S MORE PAINFUL IN WAYS

BUT IT WORKS FOR ME, HE SAYS GO TO BED BABY, GO TO BED BABY, I KNOW I AM A BABY

TOO COOL TO GO TO BED, I LOVE COMPUTERS, THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

PAT HATES COMPUTERS, I DON’T CARE, I LIKE COMPUTERS, CAUSE THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

ME AND PATRICK ARE DIFFERENT, BRIAN LOVES COMPUTERS, PAT HATES COMPUTERS

BRIAN IS WILLING TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF HIM, PAT, IS HAPPY BEING A WATCHER

BRIAN WILL ALWAYS BE A DOER, WATCH AAA YOUTUBE TV, LOOK AT MY ART ON ART COLONY

WATCH AARON CLAYTON AND READ WRITER JOE’S STUFF ON WRITERS CAFE

YA SEE BRIAN IS ON THE COMPUTER’S INTERNET IN A BIG WAY

I HAVE MANY MATES ON FACEBOOK AND TWITTER, AND I DO GET VIEWS ON YOUTUBE

CAUSE I AM FAMOUS, NOW PAT, I STILL LIKE YOU, PATRICK, BUT I CAN’T SHARE MY VIEWS ON COMPUTERS

IT’S EASY TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF YA, I AM NOT TOO WOOSEY FOR THAT

I NEED TO DO THIS, SO I DON’T LOOK AT KIDS LEGS, SO KIDS DON’T FEEL INSECURE.I LIKE KIDS I LIKE KIDS

I CAN WRITE STORIES, IT’S NOT TOO HARD, I AM ON THE MOON SAYING

I WISH I HAD A MONEY TREE, FROM THE INTERNET, AND GO TO THE COMPUTER AND TEAR SOME MONEY

OFF THE INTERNET, TO MY BANK ACCOUNT, THAT’LL BE SO COOL

PATRICK IS TREATING ME LIKE A SHY BOY, I HATED PEOPLE SAYING, I AM TOO SHY TO BE LIKEB THEM

I AM TOO COOL TO BE LIKE THEM

I AM A WRITER

I AM AN ARTIST

I AM A YOUTUBE, PARTNER, PERFORMER, AND AN ENTERTAINER

I AM BETTER THAN THE PEOPLE IN MY VOICES
\
I HATE BEING LABELLED A RICH **** OR A **** IN EVERY SHAPE OR FORM

ALL BECAUSE I AM ON THE COPMUTER BIG TIME

HERE IS A SONG

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY\ TO THE CHIMP

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE CHIMP BACK TO THE MONKEY

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY TO THE CHIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATE, YOU ARE A WIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATEM YOU ARE A WIMP

YA SEE PATRICK DOESN’T WANT TO HASSLE ME FOR WHAT I SAY

HE LIKES ME, FOR I AM COOL

I DON’T WANT TO WHAT I USED TO DO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO

I DON’T WANT PEOPLE MUCKING WITH ME LIKE THEY USED TO MUCK WITH ME

CAUSE I AM A FAMILY PERSON, BUDDY

I HATE MY VOICES OF PAT IN MY HEAD SAYING, ONLY FAMILY PEOPLE DO THIS OB BRIAN

I SAY, YEAH I AM A FAMILY PERSON, THEM PAT SAYS I AM NOT YA DADDY

AND THEN SAYS GO TO BED, BABY, I SAID, NEH, MY BED IS MY CHAIR

AND MY CHAIR IS WHERE I SIT AND DO ART

SO, STOP TREATING ME LIKE AN OLD BIDDY, I AM A CREATIVE YOUNG DUDE

I AM NOT FUCKEN SHY, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE PAL
i am performing on the moon
Billo Jul 2013
I held the height of human industry aloft in my left hand,
A polymer all of your children's great-grandchildren won't outlive.
And some old stranger glared at me, so I yelled at her "I litter!"
Her scowl grew, the old biddy knew I was a liar, and a kidder
mor(t)ality
YOU gave, but will not give again
Until enough of paudeen's pence
By Biddy's halfpennies have lain
To be "some sort of evidence',
Before you'll put your guineas down,
That things it were a pride to give
Are what the blind and ignorant town
Imagines best to make it thrive.
What cared Duke Ercole, that bid
His mummers to the market-place,
What th' onion-sellers thought or did
So that his plautus set the pace
For the Italian comedies?
And Guidobaldo, when he made
That grammar school of courtesies
Where wit and beauty learned their trade
Upon Urbino's windy hill,
Had sent no runners to and fro
That he might learn the shepherds' will
And when they drove out Cosimo,
Indifferent how the rancour ran,
He gave the hours they had set free
To Michelozzo's latest plan
For the San Marco Library,
Whence turbulent Italy should draw
Delight in Art whoSe end is peace,
In logic and in natural law
By ******* at the dugs of Greece.
Your open hand but shows our loss,
For he knew better how to live.
Let paudeens play at pitch and toss,
Look up in the sun's eye and give
What the exultant heart calls good
That some new day may breed the best
Because you gave, not what they would,
But the right twigs for an eagle's nest!
December
jackierutherford Oct 2016
It's a natural phenomenon
That all or most of us girls, whether
you have big ones or you're from the iddy biddy ***** committee -
Have confidence issues
About the size of them bras

We grow up looking at all the beauty and perfection in the magazines
Those shiny,  glossy pages of materialistic vanity

Thinking ...
I wish that was me !

Beauty, is in the eyes of the beholder
Yet, we shrivel up with fear when
It's time to be with another

Thinking they're wishing the size
of them bras was BIG
As a ripe yellow Cantaloupe! :)
You lose your confidence even if
It's not true

Our men can't help themselves
Cheating roaming eyes, as they scan those surgically implanted
Plastic fantasies
Rise and heave !

Forgetting what a real woman looks like
They fall for the ones with a huge
Chest on the outer crest

They're glorious! !
But underneath -
They have confidence issues too
That's why the knife was their
Best bet

Jrap/2016
Not ment to offend. Just for fun
For Poetic Party Crew
Mike Adam May 2016
Black ravens
attack black dog-

Squirrels chase,
spiralling trees.

Holy days in the park

Canal towpath
everyday worn by
man boots-
the dray horse long gone
the timber barge drowned.
Home improvement randy leaves in a black kidnappers van



You see it was a usual Christmas at the Taylor's and randy who was 15
Was busy at the homeless shelter, each day, but one poor man, who was
Getting ****** around by right wing governments decided to talk to randy
And yes randy, being the helpful soul that he is, spoke and joked around
With him, and this man said, how about we meet down the mall, ya see
I really am doing it tough, buddy, and it would mean a lot for me, if you would
Meet me there, and randy, said well, yeah alright see ya there, and went home
And when he told tim and Jill, well they were worried, but they were looking
Out for him and brad said, dude, it's suspicious, I will come with you and
Randy said, no buddy, I think this means nothing and randy went to bed
Already to meet his new found homeless friend and the next day, his homeless
Friend hot-wired this black van and then randy left his house to meet him
And on the way to the mall, the man jumped out of the van and grabbed randy
And randy found himself bound and gagged in the back, and randy struggled
And yelled our, HELP let me out, let me out, but this man drove randy to a very
Dark looking cave, and inside this dave were Indian drawings and randy who is
Unaware of the dangers he is in, was fascinated by these drawings and then
The man drew a picture explaining the things randy is going to suffer from
In here but despite taking a while to catch on, he finally figured out that this
Man, was bad news, and randy now realises his life is in danger and this
Made him very scared, the man looked at randy and said, buddy, you are dead
In 3 days and this made randy so scared, he struggled to get out, and the man
Rang up tim and Jill saying he has their son, blah blah blah, and there is nothing
They can do, to save him, from this trauma, randy was scared, but he was smart
Enough to understand that this could be the end of his life, and he struggled
And struggled to get through but these ropes were on so tight it gave him rope burns
And tim and Jill said, I will withdraw $20-000-000 out and you can give randy back
And then tim though, I knew that this man was up to no good, but the man won't
Budge, he didn't want the money, well he did, but having randy was more important
That any crazy dollar bill, ever could help, randy was still struggling and it made him
Feel like he was suffocating and randy screamed, HELP, I need to get out of here,
I am captured by this homeless kidnapper, well that is whet he was saying, but
The gag was tightly round his mouth, so all that he was letting out was wool lobby
Weeeeeretrtyes, well carp like this, and the kidnapper was really having a field day
With tim and Jill, saying your son is with me, you will never ever get your son back
Cause he tried to be a hotshot cool kid, and randy is not like us, his elder brother brad
Is like us, and young brother mark is a ******, but little teaser randy, is mine, I have
This kid where I want him, right now, he will never escape, no way hoisei, and
Tim and Jill got really worried, as they tried to alert the police but the police had no leads
But they told tim and Jill that they will do their best and tim and Jill gave them a
Photo of randy, and told them that there was this homeless man, who randy was
Befriending and they are pretty sure it is him who has kidnapped randy, and then after
Tim and Jill explained what happened, well, yeah, but if randy wanted it, it ain't kidnapping
But there are more fierce charges that we can put him on if he has your son and if he has harmed your son in an way, like grevious ****** harm, it's still wrong what he is doing
And tim and Jill left and the police did their best, and then a call came in saying a man
Came back to the carpark to find his tools all broken and over the road, and the police went
Down to check it out, and the police said, well we have to alert the Taylor's cause there could be a connection between this van robbery and randy's kidnapping and as soon
As tim heard, he demanded that the police do a city search, which they did, stopping at
Every gas station and ice cream shop, asking if they saw the car and whether they saw
Randy or this man, now nobody can help, cause this kidnapping is so closed off from
The rest of the world and randy was struggling with the kidnapper singing the song,
We're not going to take it, no we are never going to take it, no we ain't going to take it, anymore, and I am not taking any **** from you dude, and as randy heard that, he was
Really scared, and screamed right into the heavens, **** and the kidnapper put the duct tape back on his mouth saying shut up, *******, you are not like us, no more, you
Are like an old biddy's kid, buddy, and the police were still searching and searching
And just as they were about to give up, they saw a van matching the missing cars description near the old fashioned caves, and went down to take peak and this man
Looking suspicious, who was the kidnapper, was trying to flee the scene, but the police
Were too quick and the other policeman searched the cave and noticed randy hanging
By his neck in the cave, but the police got their in the nick of time and they saved randy
And randy was returned to the Taylor's and randy had to have counselling and the kidnapper
Was sentenced to life imprisonment but if he was good after 40 years, he will be could get free, but the homeless man said thank you, I only did it to get a home and all the rich ******
Have to pay for my rent in their taxes, *******, rich conservative *****, and randy
Was having mojo issues from the ordeal, brad and mark helped him get through this


Sent from my iPhone
29 | 31 Poems for August 2016

The girl with a soul like a library keeps getting thicker than the plot does.
So I guess that it’s no mystery why I am obsessed with reading.
She knows that I always have a book in my hand no matter the season.
The day I realised that words could touch her, I wanted to become a poem.
The type of poem that Rudy Francisco’s pen always dreams about.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s winter or summer, when she is the breeze I can never forget to breathe.
She gently holds me in her hands like her favourite author’s best-selling novel.
She told me to write poetry until my heart runs out of ink and my soul runs out of paper.
The girl with a soul like a library fell in love with me not for my words but because I love reading.
She’s composed of all the love poems my pen never had the courage to write.
Because sometimes the pulchritude of her presence is too heavy for blank pages and simple words.
The day I realised that words could touch her, I wanted to become a poem.
The type of poem that Reyna Biddy’s pen always dreams about.
The girl with a soul like a library fell in love with the boy who loves reading.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skin is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
Once Upon A time, there was a small white house, with a white picket fence, and an impossible to get out of driveway.  There lived a girl who loved to eat.  I remember her as loving to eat she lived directly across the street, and I know size does not determine the makeup of a person, but she did not look like she loved to eat.  She was thin.

She loved water, swimming, drinks poured until the cups were brimming
Family guy and Ink master she was molded like plaster
to the screen on the tv in her environment where she felt serene.

I remember a five foot seven girl pumping the pedals on a way too small yellow bicycle
as difficult as trying to melt butter on an icicle
she was strong, and she loved colors.
She was the youngest of two sisters and a brother, make no mistake there were others.
Scout Biddy Boo Jazz and Bella too, Jazz had a special spark in her bark.
Whenever I came into the kitchen, Jazz would be crazy itchin for me to give her attention.  She’d lie on her back, belly up, with sweet brown eyes like chocolate syrup and I could never resist.

There are things in life that some of us can just never resist.
Like an all-expenses paid free trip to Hawaii, or just really fresh pineapple.
I can never resist reading the cap of a Snapple, but I’ve saved a lot of money with this girl I knew who lived in a small white house with a white picket fence and an impossible to get out of driveway, because she already knew all of the facts.

She already knew a lot of things, I’m sure she still already knows a lot of things.
I don’t know what exactly she does know as the continuation of time remains in constant flow,
I have not talked to her in a while or so.
But if I had the ability, to travel back in time and reinvent any crime,
I’d go to the moment before she signed her soul to the devil.  
I’d rip the pen from her hand like a splinter
that’s been stinging her family’s index finger for way too long.
I’d erase that moment from history and if she wasn’t such a ******* mystery,
I’d be able to turn on my local cable and not worry about seeing her face on the TV.
I need to stop thinking about that because I know I’m never gonna call this cat, until a hurricane hits a city, leaving it calm and serene or until she approaches me and wants to get clean.
eileen mcgreevy Feb 2010
I've pondered why we bring it out whenever the sun shines,
We crack it open, share it out, whiskey, *****, beer, wine,
We look for an excuse, a reason why we drink it,
A christening, a birthday, hell any old chance to sink it,
"Oh look, our Biddy just recieved her shiny little car",
So we get the grog in, the fridge contents won't go that far,
"Poor seany lost his job today, let's cheer him up with whiskey",
The crowd it grows, before ya know, we're all a little frisky,
"And Clodagh decorated her room, ah look, she must be knackered,
Let's have a girly night, and open wine, with cheesy crackers",
So raise a glass, a mug, a goblet, even a champagne flute,
Or even that funny german thingy that measures a beer foot,
Let's toast whatever happens, be it good, or be it bad,
The alcohol will serve us all, ah good times there will be had...

                                             SLAINTE
1.

I’m told it’s a “living thing”, a given thing and, moreover, is a terrible thing to lose. ‘Nuff said, ‘kay?

2.

What was she doing at the reception? Why was she so envious of his riches? How many drinks under her belt since she started on that glass of wine she‘s holding in her hand right now? So possessive.

I always seem to run into her at the drug store. I wonder what kind of medication she takes. Some incredibly strange desire to know this floats through my ghost. Some generic anti- depressant or maybe something stronger, along the lines of thorazine or haldol. A bizarre sense of arousal consumes me as I fantasize about popping those pills with her. I don’t care what kind they are…if they cure what ails her then they’ll probably take care of what’s wrong with me.

I remember…it was just a week or two ago. Once again I bumped into her at the drug store. She was looking good. Real good. The prospect of reading the labels on her medicine bottles was overpowering, finally knowing the names of the many prescriptions she had filled once every month.

My plan was thwarted, however, when she ordered a soda. I never did find out those drug names, but I learned something which I felt could very possibly change the odds of she and I hooking up. And that is this: her favorite flavor is cherry red.

I don’t think she has a boyfriend, but there is this guy who is always coming around for no real reason. He seems to think that he’s her old man. I often pretend that I believe it as well. One night the three of us went to a karaoke bar. I got just drunk enough not to care if I made a fool of myself having fun. The other two in our party had no problem nominating me for the opening act.

I walked behind the booth and introduced myself to the DJ.

“Yo, yo,” he said, after I told him my name and shook his hand. “I’m DJ Crackhead. Steady chillin’ and ill feelin’, I got the wax and the tracks if you got the crack, Jack. Now get off my back ‘less you got somethin’ you want to karaoke to.”

“Actually, I do have a request. Do you see that hot little red head in the ******* tank top? The one sitting next to the pimply faced weasel? Well, I’m wantin’ that dame for my own and I need to lose him. I need to shout out respect to my ***** and be dissing this dweeb at the same time. Can you play some Stones? I’m thinking ‘Satisfaction’ or maybe ‘Get Off Of My Cloud’?”

“Gee, G! I can float them joints easier than the pope be funny dressed. ‘Get Off Of My Cloud’, baby?”

“Only seems fitting. Let’s do this, Rider!”

As the short, sharp beats of the song bring down the house, to thunderous applause I strutted to the microphone. “People!!! All 6 of you! That’s not counting the bar tender or the wait staff, so we can’t really count this as the largest crowd we’ve ever had attend one of our shows. But I’m gonna tear the rood off this sucka’ with a brutal Rolling Stones tune I’m gonna send out to my gal’s old man, Jimmy!”

I wailed the hell out of that song. Jagger would have been proud of me, that’s for sure. He would have invited me back to the limo to maybe mainline a little smack with him. Everyone in that place was getting into it, but not Jimmy. Oh no, not Mister Jimmy. You could tell he was getting into the song itself, but not the singer.

As the song faded out I returned to our table, sweat dripping off of me like raindrops that fell into her wine glass. Wiping myself with a napkin, I turned to her and asked, “Did you like that one, babe? Did that spectacle turn you on?”

She replied, “O God, yeah! Yeah on both counts!” She leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, “You know, if we could ditch Jimmy I would sure be up for some kink-a-dee-kink. All the time you sang about “not hanging around” and how “two’s a crowd” on your cloud, I could only think of this leach. You’ve got to help me, sweetheart, you’ve just GOTTA!”

“I’ll do what I can,” I said quietly, then turned to Jimmy. “ Well Ol’ Jimmy, Ol’ Jimmy “ Boy, what did you think?”

He looked me square in the eye. I knew he meant business. You could tell by the squint in his eyes. He blinked once and said one word…”Dead”.

3.

Did we really count to one hundred? Why were we counting and perhaps even more important, WHAT were we counting? Why did the object being counted need to be counted to? Was 100 the exact count? Could we count further than 100? Did we have to keep counting even if there are only 79 units in total? Can you explain? I can’t.

4.

You got a big mouth. You know that’s an undisputed fact. When it comes to informing the town about the fine details of my alcohol problem…well that‘s where I draw the line. You are one hypocritical, self-serving, self-righteous biddy who doesn’t know when to shut up.

Everyone knows I’ve been drinking and foolin’ around. The Lord knows I’m sinning and God knows sinning ain’t right. But we’re gonna chat it up tonight, and if you want to see a change of attitude and tone, well I suggest that you stick a sock in it.

5.

Chewing on a piece of grass.
Walking down the road.
Wishing on a falling star.
Waiting on the early train.
Aging with time
Alligator lizards in the air…

Interlude.

All is quiet, save the ringing in the ears. The darkness envelopes me completely, I’m lying in it’s arms. Insatiable demands we’ll make against the wisdom of the Overlords. Who see it through those eyes that criticize all they don’t understand. They don’t understand me or you. You or me.

6.

Sometimes I just like to sit back and take in a good nostril or two of pungeant skunk stank. Years have come and years have gone but one thing has remained…I ain’t a-offended o’ the smell o’ Pepe LePew.

I don’t know but that my opinion might change if one o’ them little rascals were to saunter up to me and spray his stench on my leg. The buck will probably stop there.

But anymore that stuff just reminds me of the killer bud.

7.

The wolves ain’t the only critters howlin’ at the moon tonight.

That’s what she told me as inspiration swirled down the drainage ditch into the vat of apathy.

“Jump in, Jim, let’s go for a swim.”

She took off her clothes and I couldn’t help but stare.
i am an adult, and i am ok

i hate old misery gutses winging all day

you see i am a cool adult oh yeah

i live my life to the full, like it’s a big adventure

people are calling me a big fat boy, and i hate it so much

burt i am a cool adult anyway

i think i am better than anyone else

cause i like helping the homeless

while i asm trying to get people to help the poor with me

so they don’t be a **** that they are today

you see i hate pats voice in my head

cause i really liked him, and they are trying to turn me off him ya see

like i know i am an adult, but i am not awn old biddy

i don’t wanna be a cool kid, cause cool kids bully, and i am no bully

i love my life too much to bully anyone

my dad was a weird kind of fellow,

treating me like the cool kid, i never wanted to be

when i was young i wanted to be a cool kid, now an adult

i am an adult, i told my dad, in the cosmos

and dad is now a little girlie, betty, oh dear betty

ya see, i am living my life right buddy ole chum ole pal

i am an adult

adults don’t discipline

adults are creative like me

adults are nice like me

i like patrick when we were younger

we joked around together about TV shows and watched FOOTY together

and partied together, and cause of all that, i was wanting pat to

come to the nightclub or the club with me

that is when his voice started saying, I AM NOT YA DADDY

please, i am not trying to force patrick to be my daddy

i thought we were good mates or friends

please don’t give me delusions like dad, patrick was nice to me

i am living alright without him as a mate, but it would be great

to get rid of that daddy figure, out of him, and me

because dad is dead, and i went crazy before dad died, ok

throwing my iPad over the balcony, i still like computers

i am no woosey for life, dad hated that, i felt it was the reason why he died

so he can tease me with his next life

i hate dad putting his daddy in my mate patrick,

because, my mental illness still forces me to be crazy

only rich arrogant ***** are nasty to me

dad was a ****, ok

i never really made him smile

if anything, i want dads next life to sort of make him understand

what i visioned, but in the next 6 years, ok

i will help the force treat dad like a shy girl

how does it feel DAD
PARTY ON SAYS ME ON YOUTUBE




you see as we party all day long

in every club that you see

like the private bin and the hungry horse

just blind beggars and firehouse just for me

you see, we lift up our glasses and

toast to the world our successes yeah mate yeah

partying is our middle name

i am pretty much well-controlled, dudes

yeah, we danced to jimmy barnes, oh he is so cool

and i dance to metallica as well

i got out my head banging air guitar to twisted sister’s

we’re not going to take it, anymore, oh cool, man

ya see i am a bit of an old biddy ya see

i am caught up in the fun of the 70s and 80s, oh yeah

i want lift life back so much ya see

to **** the old hag in me

as i sit at the mall with my coke, yeah i party great

i don’t want to be shy, oh no i am a family person, oh yeah mate ****** yeah

i am a regular guy dude, i am a regular guy

i deserve to have a happy party, dude, i don’t wanna be sad

i want to write cause it makes me feel great and opens up my brain

and rid all the problems from within, to ………

PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY

i don’t want old mates meeting me when i am 79, unless their heart wants to, not their beer bottle or urge for cash

that sounds like i will be drifted backward through life unless he respects my choices

i know i like to party dude, and i can’t change who i am

ya see i am a person, yeah mate yeah, part of the YOUTUBE generation

and i think it’s fine, but we must keep the kids not tying themselves on youtube, risky business dudes

i am looking out for the kids, rather than spoil their ****** fun

someone could do them harm, oh yeah DUDES

just look at me, i am having so much on youtube, and poetry slams and plays and i want to help the HOMELESS

yeah, man i am having a ball

LET’S PARTY DUDES

YOUTUBE FOREVER, FREE TO AIR TV NEVER
Carrie Ross Dec 2011
walter paired the president with a *******
the patriotic biddy shed a few layers
roaming the streets with hack hand
fleeting flirtations with a smile
the surface aside
she hasn’t spoken with her mother in years
America powered her center
radiating from head to groin
love never caught a glimpse
before her allure wore thin
and her junk went south
the whites and red of her eyes
above her puffy blue lips
that go-getting ****
kept the stars and stripes
folded
as they should be
Robert Ueda Jul 2013
Bear traps and snares?
My dear, who cares?

Penetrating darkness
And tortures heartless
I could sleep through that
And dream regardless

La dee da
Boo biddy by
I don’t scare easy
My sweetie pie

I laugh at pain
I walk on nails
But I’ll tell you now
What turns me pale

What shakes my soul
It’s most profound
In every day
And every sound

It beckons my smile
And sleeps in my tears
My dearest, your love
Is the sum of my fears
Ari Mar 2018
This pumice really rubs me the wrong way.
Matadors moisturize with oil of ole.  
Heidegger has moves like Jagger.
Any critic - Jaeger; Typhoid Mary - plaguer.

Who's the top chef that goes derpa derp derp?
Wyatt Earp.
I'll drain the swamp like Dagobah's.
A Clovis Person.  Legolas.

The ******'s best on chicken breast.
Pin that on your Pinterest.  To show all the dispossesed.
Witness Godwin's Law at work:
******, you're a ****.

Pick up the phone and call Cthulu.
Get hung up on by Shaka Zulu.
Chalupa mis huevos, says the chihuahua.
Hey Tarzan. Ungawa.

Jesus walked across Titicaca.
Crane thinks the Bridge is over.
Biddy bah bah.
Mike Adam May 2017
Dog
You are not a

What is it?

You are you-

Biddy you slept
In the crook
Of my legs.

She was gone.

Who are you
Terry Collett Jul 2013
You managed to ***
enough money
out of your old man
to take Janice

to the cinema
in Camberwell Green
didn’t your father mind?
Janice asked

no
you said
but he had queried
why the old biddy

couldn’t afford
to give her
granddaughter money
when he was strapped

for cash himself
but you had given him
your lost puppy eyes look
and he gave you

the money and got on
his bus to work
no he didn’t mind at all
you said

as you both waited
for the bus
on the New Kent Road
she wore her green

patterned dress
and red beret
her brown sandals
and white socks

you were in jeans
and white tee shirt
Gran said to be near you
all the time

because there are
some strange men
out and about
Janice said

like that one
who touched you
in the cinema
the other week

she added
yes the creep
you said
I told the female usher

and she soon rooted
him out of there
with a flea in his ear
then the bus came

and you both got on
and sat on
the side seats
and you paid

the bus conductor
the fares
and the bus went off
and you swayed

side to side
with the motion
of the bus
and some middle aged guy

opposite you
gave Janice the eye
through his thick
lens spectacles

lowering his gaze
to her knees
the tip of his tongue
sliding across

his lower lip
Janice looked away
you stared
at the guy

giving him
your Robert Mitchum glare
and he lowered his eyes
then looked away

mumbling
under his breath
then got off
at the next stop

and you fingered him
on his way
at Camberwell Green
you both got off the bus

but she never spoke
about the guy
and his creepy gaze
but took your hand

and you both walked
to the fleapit cinema
where you paid
and went in

to the big screen
and noise
and coloured film
blazing out

at you both
as you took
your seats
her hand

still holding yours
her eyes gazing
at the screen
as if the guy on the bus

and his stare
had never been.
****** harassment was around even in London in the 1950s.
Justin S Wampler Jan 2015
spit the rhythms, I'm trying to get this **** right
like who are you? some biddy I just met last night?
yeah yesterday feels like almost 4 years ago
and I'm doubtful in my ability to just let this all go.

oh, you already know what it's all about?
then I'll listen close dear, you ain't gotta shout.
cut the yelling out but now your screaming blame at me
and all you used to scream is my ******* name, you'll see.
.
We might as well be
shearing sheep
instead of sweating over
things we want to change,
but want to keep


it's
in fukin sane and
that's like being
in fukin London.

the poet a
complicated halfwit
tails off into a distance
that was never there
and shares a memory,

Paul, an old friend was
diagnosed with something terminal
and his end was nigh,
he flew off to Spain
and said,
'if this is life
I'm not doing it again'
but
he died in
Bromley by Bow
I know
I was there.

We're all sleepers
frightened of bogeymen.

What is it that stops You
from smashing them windows?
is it the old biddy who watches
everything and will tell your
Ma it was you?
that she saw you?


You're either class acts or
brass tacks
it's in the way you take
the breakage
that defines you
and not
the last thing you see
before
the night closes in,

remember when you're
shearing sheep
you are just looking
at chaos in
the cosmos and there's
**** all you
can do about that.
CLARYT Mar 2018
The cards, the choccies,
The breakfast in bed,
The dishing out aspirin,
To soothe my sore head,
The bath bombs, the nail files,
The glass of white wine,
The dusting and cleaning to make the bath shine,
No sulking, no fussing,
The giving of flowers,
The cleaning up after themselves after a shower??(definite one off),
These fine things and more are ours but once a year,
But that’s all it takes from the ones we hold dear......




I buried my mother on feb 28, my 3 beautiful girls made it extra special for me today, Mother’s Day 2018............. Thankyou Biddy, Niamh and Clodagh... I love you guys )o(
Theresa M Rose Oct 2018
chapter three


June 4th. 1980;


The day, it’s the morning of June 4th.  It’s Wednesday; I go up the block to be with Kelli; her friend Lynne is a sleepover guest, this day. I and Lynne have never got along but if I want to be with Kelli than I’ll have to hang with Lynne for the day. We’re watching “The Price is Right” on television and Lynne went inside for a while. After a time she comes in laughing!?
“I was just on the phone with Barbra B. and she’s off and running…  Let’s go down by her house and see what’s there to watch!?”  Kelli and Lynne get into the front-seats of Kelli’s White Buick Electra 225
I was in the backseat; the two of them were laughing up a storm! Kelli drives up Calamus ave. until she nears 74th. Street; this is where Barbra B. lives. Barbra is frilling a most extremely large kitchen-knife; it must be the biggest knife in her house?! Here she comes with her father chasing up behind her?  He’s trying to catch-up and stop this girl from getting to whatever place she is so hard-pressed to get too???
Lynne slaps onto the side of the door, Kelli slows and Lynne rolls down the window then sticks-out half her body; she waves over to Barbra B. and screams, “Hey Barbra, what’s going on?”
Kelli says, “What are you doing?”
“Where’re you going? You need a lift? Come on there’s plenty of room in the back!”  The door-locks pop open… “Come-on we’ll take you where-ever you’re going!”
Barbra heads towards the car; Kelli, grips the wheel, laughing; I know this laugh… Kelli has no idea what’s going on?! Barbra takes hold of the door as her father reaches her; he grabs her arm and pulls her hand away; Barbra’s father yells to Kelli, “Get out of here; Leave!”
Kelli steps on the gas and drives off!
Heart’s racing… ‘Holy crap, that crazy ***** had her hand on the door? She was about to be inside this car, she had a knife; she, she, she be sitting next to me?! What the hell just happened???’
Kelli drives back towards the house; the two of them seating in the front seat… laughing?! Not the same laugh but…, laughing! Lynne’s, an all too familiar sort; it’s a kind I heard in the silent-times unspoken about; a delight to a well done of what just happened.
Kelli’s, her laugh is also all too familiar, hers, is the kind that reassures. It’s the kind I’d feel deep inside me at three in the morning while swinging, inside Little Bush Park, on those swings beneath moonlight knowing, oddly enough, I’m safer there at that moment than I’d be anywhere-else.
Kelli parks up on the corner, on the side of Tootie’s house; she runs across to store for soda, cigarettes and stuff then we went upstairs.
“What the hell was that…?” Kelli says, laughing, while she slaps the bag onto the table; bag brakes open and as liverwurst, cheese, bottle of soda and the cigarettes flies off to all parts of the kitchen!? “What did you do? That was f----- up!?” Kelli starts to fix us lunch as Lynne tells us about what she was doing in the kitchen while we were watching The Price Is Right.                    
  
Lynne calls up Barbra’s gay-lover and tells her she’s Barbra’s (formerly) ex-girlfriend and that she’s calling to let her know Barbra and she are back together so she’ll no longer be needed or wanted in their lives!  
Afterwards, Lynne calls Barbra’s saying to Barbra, she’s Barbra’s ex-girlfriend’s newest lover and she’s calling to inform her,Barbra, that Barbra’s ex and this girl’s new lover are bopping the sheets with each-other and the two of them are being played as fools; as one could imagine and as we saw for ourselves, Barbra went into a high-speed tailspin. Barbra snaps?!  And now she is out there trying to go end these two women in a pool of their own blood!?  
Unbelievably, Lynne still thinks what she made happen is a big fat hoot???
Kelli, “What the hell were you thinking???”
Lynne looks at Kelli, and with this snide tone and smirk on her face she says,” What… I was bored! Did you see Barb’s father’s face?” laughter erupting from her as she turns to get her stuff out of Kelli’s bedroom; “Hey it was fun!”
Kelli,” Oh brother; you’re…? Hey, get ready and I’ll drive you… home.”
Kelli looks at me and we both put hands up with baffled looks?!          
It’s just around 3 pm. as Kelli rolls up to Lynne’s to drop her off. She asks Kelli to drop her down at the bar she hangs-at so she could find-out what’s been going on there.
Kelli did and on the way back she stops by Julia’s, her mom’s, work; Julia gives us a list and we go over to key-food to shop.
While we’re shopping Kelli keeps, “I can’t get over what we saw???”
I kept thinking how did Lynne know so much of Barbra’s love-life??? She knew names, places and everything she’d need to get that girl Barbra to to such a point and state?’ I think Kelli and I were both shaking from this for the rest of the day.
  Kelli drops me off, goes parks and goes into house.
I remember this date so well because later that night at around 2:30 in the morning I was at my father’s door knocking?!

” Dad? Dad? Dad; you need to get… You have to get-up!?”
My water broke??? My due date’s not ‘til September 18th. I first thought, ‘Oh no not again?! This can’t happening; … not again?! But, there was no pain, no blood, and no sense of dread like the other times?
I went into my room and grab onto my bag and what-ever-else I thought to take; I figured, by this time my dad would be ready to bring me up to the Boulevard and we’ll cab it to St. John’s. He wasn’t in the middle-room; he wasn’t in the kitchen I knocked on the bathroom door and… He’s not in there? Maybe he went up to call a cab to pick me up at the door?? I’d think he would… He’d have said something…,  like when you have what you need I’ll be downstairs I’m going up to get a cab??? The hall-door’s closed?!’
“Holy crap?!”
No, no, no, I go back to my Dad’s bedroom door and knock. “Dad…? “
“What?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head!
I try to open the door but as usual the lock is on? “Dad?! My water broke???” As one could imagine my voice is no-longer an indoor voice?!  “Never mind broke it’s like the dam broke here and there’s water everywhere out here! Come on you have to get up… you need to take me to St. John’s?!”  
Pin-drop silence…?
“Dad?”
This low soft moaning whimper comes from behind that locked door, “Can it wait until the morning?”
  ??? Bang! Needless to say dad needs a new door-lock.
“Nelson…; Get up!”
“Ok.” Slowly he gets to his feet. “I don’t know why…, now? Why can’t you wait ‘til morning?”
“No, now.” In my head,’ Maintain: Four six-packs… I’m lucky I’m going alone?!’
“I need coffee? What the hell is all this water on the floor?”  
   “Dad? Dad; … that would be me?! It’s why you’re up?  We need to go… St. John’s?! Let’s go!”
Ever notice how when you need… there’s never one to be found??? Phone-booth! Lindy’s cab come and picks us up; not one yellow-cab? We get there and they check me out.
The doctor, “You have had what’s called a premature rupture of membranes; you’re being admitted so you can continue to be monitored. Your baby’s vitals but…; we want you to understand the baby’s condition is at high-risk it’s holding its own.”
“Doctor…?” My eyes begin to whelm-up…
“Miss Rose…” The doctor places his hand on my arm, “You need to remain claim; I have the nurse come give you something and I’ll come check on you when they put you in a room; for now remember the vitals are good.”
“Thank you.”
“Ok; your father’s outside, I have him brought in to you.”  
I told him I’d have to stay and he should go home.
“You have money for a cab?”
“My bag is under there, Dad.”
You know, it’s strange; he has no problem asking me to give him money so he could get home!? He doesn’t know where I get money… But, he couldn’t care less?! And, I doubt very much even if he knew it would bother him; hem, he’s lived off her all these years…, knowing that I’ve been signing Elaine’s name and cashing her checks from the checkbook I took and packed in my bag the day I left that place in Brooklyn would faze him?! Well maybe if he was aware I only cashing $50. to $100. At a time out of an account which has $33,000. In it would?! I stopped writing checks after I bought everything I needed for a baby until a baby is one month old; after $1700. I didn’t take anymore. Till the day my mother died neither she or I ever said a word about that checkbook. And, I know she knew… every time a check was cashed.  When I cashed them at Manufacture Handovers Bank would confirm with a call before any check cashing; they did it since my brother, Kevin, cashed out a $12,000 check and left town! A signature that was in no way like my mother’s! The bank made a deal to replace half?! I’m sure she could have had ever last penny back but the bank would have had police-case opened and a warrant out for Kevin and she never did turned her back on that boy?! That check wasn’t even, close-to, the worst thing that boy had done. The day he died I smiled, enough said.  Well, I think she thought I would have felt bad and come home and I’d do what she wanted me to do that day.

The sun’s coming up… They just put me here in this room, room 410; I hear the Doctor down the hall. I hope he has good things to tell me!? I pull the drape to see him when he comes in the door; a circle of people are out there with charts. They’re coming in…,”Miss Rose, these are the team who will be watching over you.” Doctor was saying their names but I wasn’t hearing him; all I want was for him to tell me the baby’s going to be alright. “Miss Rose I spoke to your GYN and he informed me you were already aware of this being a high-risk pregnancy?
“Yes.”
“The chart says you been pregnant before?”
“Yes; never over five months.”
‘Well, you do have that in your favor; although, there’s still no… Miss Rose? What wrong?”
“There’s… No…”
“Listen!” he places his hand on my arm. ”Understand what I’m saying; we’re monitoring the vitals and you and your baby are, for right now, fine. The longer that baby stay in there the better be the chances of survival. Do you understand this?”
“Yeah”
“Good; in order for this to be we will need to keep you in the most sterile environment possible. Do you understand what this means? I can see you’re not; Miss Rose you’re going to have to stay in the hospital until the baby is born. And you’ll need to be on complete bed-rest so we can continue to monitor the baby. This means no wondering the halls this is a private room and you have a bathroom all to yourself no getting out of bed just to walk around, no unnecessary movement you need to stay pregnant for as long as you can. Now, you understand what I’m telling you?”
Crap! I look at this doctor like he just grew three more heads??? “You want me stay here, and to sport this bed? Until, September 18th?”
“No… Miss Rose September 18th Is full-term an ideal time for the baby; we already know that won’t happen that date’s gone and is impossible now. But the idea is to now get you as close as we can to that date. Let’s just take this a day at a time. I come and check in on you later. Remember, no getting up except if you need to use the bathroom. Ok?”
The bathroom only; got it!”  
The doctor leaves my room… Its Thursday morning 7:12 am. June 5th. 1980
Mind this point, it’s still 1980?! You can smoke inside a hospital; and, if you’re in a private room without Oxygen Tanks in use.
The date and time of baby’s birth is...; Friday, morning, on June 6th. 3:54 am.
They took him right away from the delivery room I only saw him from the mirror up in the corner of the room; you know the kind where things are closer than they look type’s… they put me back into my room. It’s 7 am. I know, I have had a baby boy but I haven’t met him? Three hours not one word; not one word to me by anyone here?! Did something happen? Again.
It is 7:10am. Door, to my room, opens… The doctor steps in… “Miss Rose?” he walks to the side of my bed. “Has anyone been in to talk to you?”
“…no.”
“We need to talk to you about what is next for your son…”
“My, son…” I thought sure… he was going to say???
Yes, they are ordering transport for him, now; our hospital isn’t equipped to care for his needs we need to rush him to another hospital that can give him the best chances to survive this early most… we’ll do best we can. They’ll bring him in a moment I know you hadn’t had a chance to hold him.”
As he said this four people enter the room and my baby, my baby.
The nurse walks around to the left of my bed and hands me this itty biddy blanket holding this little face.  I look at him and thought ‘His skin he’s so purple; his face… he looks just as she did. But he’s here. ” Hello Joseph! I’m your mommy. I’m grateful you’re here. “
Big hands; the nurse who handed my baby to me to hold is now on my right-side to take him away from me.
They rush my tiny boy out to the neonatal ambulance He’ll be at Long Island Jewish Hospital when I leave here on Monday.

— The End —