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Daniel James Feb 2011
Somewhere between the age of 12 and 13
Kitty became a make up queen
Each time she turned up at the door
She’d more make up on than before
Her parents could not figure out why
She slapped it on, she piled it high
From orange ears to blue shaded eyes
From red lips to black butterflies
After a while her poor little face
Had more layers to it than a wedding cake
So she made some changes to her routine
Got up each day at four fifteen
Skipped breakfast, hopped in and out the shower
Which left, for make up, a mere three hours
This worked well for a little while
Until a teacher remarked she’d lost her smile
At which point in her heart she knew
She’d need an extra hour or two
To don her make up every day.
So she started arriving at school quite late
At nine at first, but soon midday
Light’s nice at that time anyway.

Then one day, a rather dashing lad
Offered to help her carry her bags.
Now Kitty thought he’d cussed her eyes,
So she slapped him and ran home to revise
Her make up routine, before she cried
And ruined her mascara.

Now this rather dashing handsome lad
Could not help feeling he’d been had
He stood there red as blush itself
And swore he’d fall for someone else.

Kitty meanwhile, back at home
Was swotting up on her skin tone
And trying every shade of white
To hide the scars of sleepless nights.
“I’ll teach that lad, that dashing lad –
I’ll be something he has to have
He’ll want me so much he’ll carry my bags
With weights in them that break his back!!!”
And with a slightly evil laugh,
Her plan was made, the die were cast.

We rejoin Kitty five days on
After a five day make up marathon
Her skin-tone matched, her bags are gone
Except her school bag, which weighs a tonne –
But at the school gate, something’s wrong
Hang on, where is everyone?
Oh Kitty, Kitty, oh Kitty cakes
That is an embarrassing mistake
You’re not early, they’re not late –
You’ve come to school on a Saturday!

Ablush with embarrassment and all alone
Kitty’s mascara ran all the way home
And all the foundations and eye-shadow pens
Couldn’t put Kitty together again.
But just at the corner before her own street
Outside the corner shop, who should she meet?
But the boy, not the boy, the rather dashing young lad
Who was sat on the fence by the shop looking sad
Looking sad, looking blue, looking ever so glum
Like it wasn’t that long since he last ****** his thumb.


At first as their paths crossed they were both destined
Not to look in each other’s direction
But luckily old cupid used light and reflections
To swap left and right with two moment's intersecton
The arrow was fired, the sightline was true,
Said the boy, "What a perfectly red shade are you!
Without your mascara, without those lips too -
You look even hotter than you usually do!"

"Am I bovverred?" Said Kitty, looking bothered as could be.
"Well you do look a bit bovvered if I’m honest," said he.
"Well I am a bit bovvered if I’m honest," said she.

"Why don’t we make up and then I’ll walk you home?"
"Then we can hang out and we won’t be alone"
"I’ll give you the pin to my blackberry phone"
"We’ll sync up our wardrobes and match our skin tones"
"I’ll friend you on Facebook". "I’ll call you at night".
"I’ll take you nice places." "I’ll treat you right nice."
“You will”, said Kitty? "I will," said he,
“But first let me start my repeating my offer
To carry your school bag if you can’t be bovvered.”
“My school bag said Kitty,” repeating the offer
“To carry one of my school bags if I can’t be bothered?”

Now this time, Kitty had understood right
So she took off one of her school bags, and put it down by her side
“Long story, don’t ask…” She said with a pout,
And she gave him one, of her bags, once she took the weights out.
Yenson Aug 2021
Did I not win it good
is that not why you're *******
green with envy
as rubber plant rooted in cheap compost
looking at the refined radiance
of a bluest Sapphire Orchid in sublime bloom

I plucked a royal flush
a five star winning hand
while in the down low
your jealousy marries your hate and angsts
and you burn red in the face
like the garish red neon bulbs on a Dutch brothel door

only the broken knows
the different notes of broken
as the abused by providence find solace
in the self loathing they mask by pointing fingers
you can hide but what you are cannot
it was with you as the water broke for your birth
When ya thought I was flying
I was falling instead and
hitting rock bottom

it stops hurting after a mile or two
when I think that I'm falling through
cotton wool which I pull over my eyes.

Then to scrape oneself off the floor
jump on the skylights and jump off
once more,
whee
look at me
but I'm falling and calling to God and his fakir
make me a
parachute,
( which sounded cute when I wrote it )

Salvation will come in the form of a gun
or a man of the cloth or both
' bovvered?'
nah
what will be will be the death of me
or the life

I'm not crying now
not falling
not flying
how
did that happen?

age writes one page on
the face and the lines run
into each other

I'm just minding my own
keeping it real
walking back home.
Exorcising demons, little *******
Yenson Aug 2019
Are we bovvered
ending with a happy heart
is better than being a pathetic ******
dance say G. Kelly, mark my noise
says I, I've got rhythm in my career.
markminoise

— The End —