Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
zebra Sep 2018
have you ever seen beauty in a silky nightmare
have you  ever seen the monster of deprivation in heavens promise?

we speak of private things
we should never talk about
about vailed women
and their terrible secrets
and about myself who remains no longer a secret to myself

somewhere i went off the track
like a  daisy chain saw of honesty
to ensure you knew i was sick
a sick **** with a trick
as if i ate some ****** up hallucinogenic' s
making me spill my obsessions all over you
like some weird perfumed *****
down a swirling rainbow toilet
that turns out to be only jelly and whipped cream
wrapped in colored ribbons on cellophane tampons

i feel like  having *** or going to the toilet in public
while waving my hands up in the air
screaming yahoo i'm free
to blow to kingdom come
the temple of normalcy
you know
the church of rose gardens, cemeteries and deprivations
except of course for the sneers, smears
and self loathing vanilla demons
who wear long see through dresses and crosses
like dash board plastic virgins
with bobbing heads
that make hissing sounds about sin

i confess
i'm attracted to the darkest women
strange *******
and  ******
the stranger the better
who shake their butts
like hoodoo enchanted show girls
doing what they shouldn't do
crying and scrying like cooing moons calling
"drink me like ****** Mary
daddy **** lollypop"
all inky tats and razorblade ouchies

or
you can join those
covered in white collared black as death habits
begging the invisible *** cake in paradise
waiting for mercy and a little ****
that never comes
stuck in an empty
loveless bar of crucifixes that only serves up theology

oh baby
***** dreams do come true
pink ****** ***** gladly widen their haunches
like **** without boots
not caring if they go to hell
playin
like a joy ride of fiddle **** sticks
all freaky tongues and tingling licks
thick saliva multi lingual blow jobs
lathering flashing lipped saliva for the squirt  
with fiery wet hypodermic kisses
that make screams
like creamed upleaping lava and ash
for a million hungry sexed up twisting tongues
in occult ecstasy
fecundating shrouds of steamy clouds
in stained red black lighted rooms
with cherub crowned *****
and their drooling snatches buttered ****

eat quivering
like fowl mouthed piranhas
crying more raw meat please
while you drag your perfect person visage
into hollow caves of despair
cold and lonely

so you forlorn love struck weeping
horney pathetic scarecrow
socially engineered robots
if you want love
like heated buttery waffles with sweet jam
just give your self away like slutty putty
to lust criminals and *** addicted pervs  
until
you feel someone swallow you whole
soul and all
and lick their lips
like your their cherry pie

then look passed your
rats nest of pride and exhaustive approval list
and love them back
like free beer
bang their brains out
be their slave and make them yours
in the mad house of love
of warped shimmering mirrors, straight jackets, and squeezy insertions

and if one day they don't appreciate your imperfect perfection
if they weaponize like critic's
teach them respect
shove it where they breathe
lick your wounds
be brave
throw them in the trash bin of history
and move on

Eros and Venus
take a million forms

look around
your swimming in a giant bowl of broken hearts
hungry mouths, drenched ***** and hard *****

you whimpering little beasts
dress to ****
undress to live

its a movable feast
advice to the lovelorn young
thank you to Lora Lee for the line
" swirling toilet rainbows"
zebra Apr 2017
i'm your o so wanna be lover
I'm afraid not what you would expect though
i admit to being a difficult pleasure
perhaps
a tad strange looking
squishy with long tentacles
half man half octopus
with a winking cycloptic eye

i entreat you
looks can be deceiving
how many pretty boys have you loved
crawling worms for a soul
that have left you a ruined creel
a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation

have you ever asked your self
who adores you
who would give all to protect love and cherish
i'm waving my eight arms at you
from the center of the universe
i eat black holes to kiss your ***
am i not a cosmic horror
with my big Cthulhu smile
quivering with tenderness

do you hunger for butter **** lollypop
i have two big **** heartbreakers
with teardrop curves
a feast for your ravenous holes of emptiness
and many armed tentacles to hold you tight
to slither all over your tender woven caves
to pull you into me
with suckers that thrill
during swirling inky *****

i will unravel your mind
your soul tilthed
if you can get passed
my
gray rubbery boneless head

i can push this shape-shifting balloon face
through your annul tubular contours
all the way up your beautiful ***
licking
salivating
tickling into your
tender bowel and throat
like a great dancing tongue
a stretched waving goodness
entering your mouth from the back side

can pretty pretty do that?

come slowly unto me my beloved
i am all chromatophores
endless glittering nightlights
incandescent
so we may wander our way through long dim nights ******
in the deep deep dark
with tentacle ***** galore
an infinity of entertainment
for every crevice and desire
and one winking cycloptic eye
that pierces your soul
howard brace Jan 2013
Despite repeatedly shaking her pincer... much as a sprightly pensioner might brandish a furled umbrella at a grappling contestant, currently being boo'd at in the red corner... the baby crab stamped her foot in annoyance as she glowered at every passing wave that rolled along the shoreline.  In absolving herself of any guilt she may have felt over her prolonged excursion, she had become, even further marooned by a failure to catch a succession of tides back home, an oversight she later confessed, to observe local tide-tables in 'Old More's Almanac...' on sale in all discerning book shops and selected High Street newsagents, priced 10/6d... for unless fluent in the Russian vernacular, it was just about as articulate to the little crab as a map of the Moscow Metro during a blackout, only to have the Rouble finally drop with a throat gagging 'Gaaargh...' clunk, that you were currently standing on the down-line platform, when you should've been stood on the up... as the last train lurched unsteadily out of the station whistling a jubilant entente cordiale... 'wish me luck as you wave me dasvidaniya'.

     Still stamping her foot, only now in strict rotation with the other seven, the baby crustacean peered out from beneath the shade of the large pebble, rearing its bulk out of the rockpool like a lollypop-lady's 'STOP'!!! sign, her beady eyes twitching independently, first this way, then the other, cut withering swathes through every cardinal point of the compass that didn't duck quite fast enough, was rapidly coming to the conclusion that the rock-pool in which she found herself tapping her foot in today, would be no less aquatic as any other rockpool that she may find herself still tapping a foot in tomorrow and that the best course of action was simply to stay-put and take the matter up with the local town council, then petition for additional fare-stages to be implemented... and with the cost of shoe leather at current prices... well, with eight legs to consider it would make savings that weren't to be sneezed at.  

     It wasn't everyday of the week that a young and upwardly mobile baby crustacean had occasion to move both up-market and down the beach, all in the same mouthful... and into what could only be regarded as a desirable, detached beachfront property, a rock-pool of distinction with all available mod-cons.  She felt relieved that apart from the occasional day-tripper, who invariably dropped litter wherever they went, that a baby crab of distinction such as herself, was certain to be accepted socially and hob-*** with a new and discerning circle of acquaintances... you only had to take that nice lady earlier in the week, they both seemed to have so much in common... then she would roll up her sleeves and really show the neighbourhood what knitting was all about...  

     With as much enthusiasm as that of a three year old screaming for an ice-cream in the middle of an heat-wave, Red marched up the beach and as far from his wife's waspish tongue as a lame excuse would carry him, heading back towards the growing crush of holidaymaking fathers who were only there presumably, for the sake of their own children, laying siege to the mobile vendor... only this time, having already stood in the same queue ten minutes earlier, now had a sufficiency of funds to purchase that which he'd unsuccessfully queued for the first time.

      After an unspecified time which by his wife's reckoning was grounds for divorce... Red, now laden down with the iced confectionary picked his way through the same throng of fathers who moments earlier had been happily chatting in the queue together, were now enjoying the same berating as the one Red was looking forward to as he made his way back towards the rock pool, juggling more ice-cream than two manly hands could intelligently control... while in a bid for freedom, the rapidly thawing confectionary were hatching plans of their own, ones quite independent from those intended as they embarked upon their meandering exodus, known only to iced creamy desserts on hot sunny days... and into the unknown, roaming across Red's hands and trusting their fate to a far higher authority.

     "Did I mention that I was on a diet" snapped his significant other, as she sat licking pistachios from the melting cornet... "don't you ever listen," secretly smiling to herself... "and you did remember to bring Sockeye's water this morning.. didn't you..!" she continued "someone with half as much sense would've stood it in the rockpool to keep cool, I'm sure the little crab wouldn't have objected..!"   At the mention of his name, Sockeye with ears far too free-lance to ever consider gainful employment of their own, needed no further persuasion and charged straight through the rock-pool to his mistress's side, walloping the thermos flask for a tail whopping six... bringing his personal batting average so far this holiday to a self congratulatory forty not out... and found the baby crab spluttering flat on her back and having second thoughts on any immediate savings in shoe leather were she to stay. 

     Generous to a fault, Sockeye now thought to shower everyone's ice cream with liberal helpings of the seashore as several parasitic irritations had Sockeye hard at work serving eviction notices on some of the more exotic zoology that only a patent Bob Martin's would dare to muscle up to... the local wildlife, by the look on his face were having the time of their lives bivouacked behind his left ear, throwing wild parties and disturbing the peace.  Cross-eyed, it was only while launching a double pronged assault on the latest settlement of interlopers that Sockeye finally succumbed to his injuries and surrendered to a neighbouring sandcastle... it really didn't do to mention a certain name too loudly at times like these, especially when you just happened to be on the receiving end.

     For some strange reason he was undoubtedly in the dog house... they'd shouted at him, which made him sad, all except his little master who had pushed him away... which left him bereft.  Sockeye sat down on dads beach-towel and had a long, thoughtful scratch... where had all the fuss gone? he searched for appreciation their faces... his tail gave one disheartened thump before it stopped... and all those little pieces of ice-cream dipped wafer, which up until now had always appeared as if by magic.  

     Catching sight of one such treat, undoubtedly forgotten by the rock pool, a marauding seagull pulled out of a rolling dive and swooped, at the same instant as two gaping jaws launched themselves skywards... canine jowls quivering bravely in the light sea airs... and not too dissimilar to a heat seeking missile, rose gracefully from the ground to meet it... 'well intercepted..!' as both ears applauded in mid-air... no aerial freeloader was about to skip town with Sockeye's ice cream wafer without paying... leaving one solitary wing flapping its willingness to pay up.

     At least it kept her husband in useful employment Tina decided... and mercifully out from under her feet, as she brushed a fragment of affectionate pistachio from her bikini top... she'd have to  make sure he went for the ices in future... and without the means to pay for them... a mischievous smile turned the corners of her mouth as she leant towards the beach-bag and invested herself with several more juicy grapes... that everyone who fell within her sphere of influence had been warned well away from... under threat of dire consequence... and it would take a brave man indeed, or a very foolish one... she gave her husband who was sitting well within arms reach a caustic glance... and Tina's particular variety of justice had a very long arm indeed.

                                                        ­           ...   ...   ...**

a work in progress.                                                        ­                                                                 ­  1297
Ardent Bowel Dec 2012
Love is a ***** soup going stale but steaming like it's brand new;
And I'm Oliver twist walking up to the *** with a rusty spoon full of desire and hope asking for more but getting none.

Love is a Doctor gathering dead bodies and shackling them up in chains;
And I'm a green freak with Frankenstein bolts ****** through my head walking around with only a mumble to muster trying to love people who just want to run away.

Love is a white paper rolled so finely, full of sedatives and drugs;
And I'm sitting by a fire reaching in for a log to smoke.

Love is puzzle made by Einstein and Sam Loyd;
And I'm a child with eyes made of glass and hands made of thorns crying to my mother because that puzzle is a *****.

Love is Navy Seal training on a beach covered in cold water spilling blood for a chance;
And I'm a ***-smoking hippie who holds up signs and tells soldiers they’re monsters as I take a puff of death.

Love is a ten-syllable word compacted into one;
And I'm a hooked on phonics children’s thesaurus struggling to find a comparison that I can actually pronounce.

Love is a white egg timer sitting on the fridge set to all nines;
And I'm a busy housewife waiting to cook dinner at the sound of its bell.

Love is a robber with a 45 in his belt;
And I'm an eager dad trying to protect his family with a wooden stick.

Love is hot coffee from a luxury beverage shop;
And I'm a plastic party cup melting away.

Love is a doctor with a PHD in heart surgery;
And I'm a sick child waiting with his mother with no healthcare ******* on a free doctor’s-office lollypop.

Love is a huge pink eraser;
And I'm a graphite pencil struggling to write while me and the eraser fight.

Love is a pickup truck speeding through town drunk;
And I'm a lost puppy running through the same intersection looking for my owner.

Love is meant for fish;
And I'm a bird.
© ardent bowel
http://ardentbowel.wordpress.com
ju Sep 2011
She lets me try it on.
I want it. But I don’t get presents like she does.
It’s beautiful. Bright with a white, fluffy trim. Zip and
poppers all the way up.
She widens her eyes. Twists her hands into claws
and she says “Little Red, come here and climb into bed…”
I laugh. Her wolf sounds just like Grandma.
Ma swings her arm back. I stop.
She turns to see what’s changed. It isn’t funny anymore.
I hear the thwack as Ma’s hand connects with her nose. It
was an accident.
Should’ve been the side of her head.
Now there’s blood.
She buries her face, wraps her arms round my waist.
A darker red blooms on the nylon.
She calms down but she’s shaking. We untangle and I help
her on with the coat.
I don’t want it.
We wait for a while in silence; shredding lollypop sticks,
peeling the top off an old lemonade-can.
She starts to cut neat, tiny crosses into her fingertips.
Not deep.
But I’ve seen enough. I feed the lollypop sticks and
lemonade-can to the cracks between the planks of the pier.
The hood covers her eyes completely. I think she’s stopped
crying.
“You look just like Little Red” I tell her.
She says “Maybe I am.”
Morgan Jun 2013
It's like...
waking up, terrified in the middle
of the night just to reach for your hip
because you need to know that the bone
is still standing up tall under your skin

It's like...
wrapping your thumb & pointer finger
tight around your wrist in the middle of
a shift just to make sure it's still narrow
enough to fit

It's like...
tapping on your rib cage
or pulling at your thighs

It's like...
buying rings too small for your fingers
because you know they're getting thinner

It's so much more than puking in the shower
It's so much more than the days without food

It's feeling like a survivor for killing yourself
It's this sense of inner pride for hurting your body
It's disordered thinking and self induced migraines
It's crying & smiling for all the wrong reasons
It's forgetting how to love
It's the deepest form of loathing
It's guilt
It's obsession
It's destruction
And it will be the death of me
But hey, at least I'll die skinny
lavendersky Nov 2017
I started my day with a lollypop.
at first it was bitter,lime flavor,
with some sour aftertaste,
until i reached the sweet cherry center.
Unlikable until the very end.
eatmorewords Dec 2012
carried buildings around
in his head, not real buildings
just un-sketched plans,
you understand?

He had always wanted to build a replica of
the town where he was born
not from mortar or bricks
but from spaghetti and matches and
lollypop sticks.

He wanted to build the fire station and a church
and the supermarket where he would make
tiny shopping trolleys and scatter them over
the make believe car-park where tiny
people would be carrying on with their daily chores
holding tiny bags and thinking big thoughts

He wanted there to be a spacious park for
imaginary children to enjoy wholesome picnics.
And ponds where geese, ducks and swans would
glide on the surface
near broccoli sized trees.

The town in his head would be better then the town in which
he walked but he had one big problem
he spend hours wondering how he could make the sun.
I want to

be childish
eat pizza every day
be stylish
wear sweat pants all day
steal a lollypop
and give it back tomorrow
be happy one day,
the next full of sorrow
learn how to tweet
like the sweetest bird
buy a lama
breed a herd
Cut my hair short
dye it blonde
and black
or blue
don't take a path
just walk through.

jump on my bed
wear my hair down
paint my nails blue
practice a frown
mess up the bath
flood the kitchen
skip lessons of math
kiss my reflection
and marry myself
collect old fairy tales
build a bookshelf
paint my walls green
then purple
then blue
walk backwards
talk funny
and one day
meet you.

I want to meet you
but I want to remain myself.
I want to show you,
my incredible wealth.
The wealth I collected,
while being myself.
And may it just be,
the fairies in the shelf.
I want to meet you,
I want to share
But I want you to treat me right
and want you to care.
Not so much,
just a little,
so I know you are mine.
Make sure we stay you
you and I
and we'll shine.

I want to be childish.
Do you?
He lay on the bed wearing nothing but a wicked smile.his muscular body begged me to come and caress every last inch.

He crawled to the end of the bed putting his arms round my waist.pulling me in close to his well tone muscular body.

He said lay beside me and tonight I'll take you beyond the stars.we will go higher than man ever could.

His soft lips kissing my neck his hands slowly moved up my thighs.gilding over my stomach caressing my *******.

Our naked bodies entwined it stared with a passion kiss.running my fingers through his hair pulling his head back so gently.

His hard length made my body shudder and my heart skip a beat.breathing deep licking his tongue the earth moved in my head.

Hands held down hip pounding  deep thrusting gyrating movements,made me beg for more.biting his neck like a vampire needing to fed.

Sliding down his body landing between his legs looking up him.licking his ***** like a lollypop looking up at him.

His moans cut through the night air I could feel his fingers in my hair.he beg me to keep going and not to stop.

He said your my vampire looking to be fed tonight .his hot *** teasted better than honey or chocolate.

He lay back staring up the celling saying nothing unable to speak.looking at his face I saw only a wicked smile.
I wrote this because me and my husband love the vampire diaries
Thursday..another diary entry.

I did not choose this,
I want to lose this but it seems like I'm stuck and I don't give a, doesn't life **** like a tooty fruit lollypop, and how do you stop when you've started?
I want to begin on the bottle of gin,but it's empty,still tempts me,with a bottle of grappa,could start again as a rapper and not have a crap day like today.

If you work like a horse all they'll feed you is hay and there's no one to say take a break,have a smoke,this life is a joke,
but I'm a big bloke,take it all on the chin,still want to begin
on the gin.
I can't win.
some days are weeks.
Searle May 2014
Worn… the scenes are vivid
Of angry protests,
Scowling faces,
And the sharp knife that rips the flesh.

The **** of hate that wounds our nation
Clear stares me in the eyes.
There’s no mistaking the gun he’s wielding,
As in another hi-jacking a mother dies.

Removed… the vivid scenes are vague,
The protests are joyful dances,
Smiles on every side
And the knife a lollypop shared between lovers.

Our nation healed and united
Flows free before my eyes.
There’s no mistaking the flag he’s waving
As proud above one nation it flies.

This view may be dim and the edges… a slight blur,
But this is how I prefer to view our nation…
…without my glasses.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Gaffer May 2015
Shirley girl it’s been a thrill
Let me introduce you to Bill
He has a dog called Jet
He’s a solid bet
You’re dumping me after an hour
One hour
Sixty minutes of bliss
How you reminisced
Your ex Ted
Shot himself in the head
Mother Jill
Lying at the bottom of the hill
Father John
Somewhere in the Amazon
Grandad Cain
Threw himself under a train
Granny Flo
Where did she go
Not forgetting brother Fred
Lost, presumed dead
Then you mention your lesbian lover Di
Who right away I’m thinking
How did she die
Not realising, you must be Bi
Then just as I’m getting my head round that
You mention the cat
Is there a dog
What about the fog
Oh, that’s what caused the bus to disappear into the bog
You saved the lollypop man Jack
Well, that’s a blessing
What
Died next day, heart attack
Shirley doll
Don’t think of me as a bit of a moaner
But Jesus girl
You're a ****** Jonah.
zebra Jul 2019
she moves her mouth
wet lip chatter and eating
it makes me think
of her pinkish ****** lips
and her tender tawny ******
like a lollypop
a surprise tootsie roll center
with a urethral delicate opening
the **** eye
her pipsqueak fig staring myopically

a dark vulnerable miasma
it is the shape of gods 3rd eye

a material correspondence
to the heavens
not the sky that whistles through canyons
but the astral worlds of angelics'
a thanksgiving feast
of rebuked back door paradise
a glistening hemic muscle
vomiting stormy air
for my throbbing nightingale protuberance.

as it swells imperious *****
and raptures tight waving spasm's
from long smooth canoe strokes
squirting succotash and tadpoles
into her velvet
banana booth
chapel of ****

and greedy ache
smothers gloriously
this melodic snake
in her one eyed doll head

she smiles
i need it in the ***

and i asked
as it winked a drivel

dark floret  
do you love me?
******
I'm the little boy watching John Wayne movies
working on a Charms lollypop
I'm the five year old playing "Vietnam" with
a stick running along a creek in the back yard
I'm Neil Armstrong , Jimi Hendrix and Charles Manson
The Smothers Brothers , Dark Shadows and Captain Kangaroo
The iconic smiling face , the peace sign and the Farrah Fawcett t-shirt
Watergate , the Flintstones and Mr Ed
I'm Skylab , the men on the moon and 911
I'm Obama , Carter , Nixon and Reagan
I'm a pipe wrench working on the American Dream
A water **** passed among friends
A gung-** service member
A fifty year old mess
A Mad magazine , an ever changing book explaining taxes ,
disability and the future loss of medical insurance
I'm better left alone most days , eyes locked forward at twenty feet tending to problems such as tall grass , ***** windows , tarnished brass
A mailbox in need of paint , fire ant mounds , dead leaves scattered along the ground* ...
Copyright January 22 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Gaffer Jan 2016
Shirley girl it’s been a thrill
Let me introduce you to Bill
He has a dog called Jet
He’s a solid bet
You’re dumping me after an hour
One hour
Sixty minutes of bliss
How you reminisced
Your ex Ted
Shot himself in the head
Mother Jill
Lying at the bottom of the hill
Father John
Somewhere in the Amazon
Grandad Cain
Threw himself under a train
Granny Flo
Where did she go
Not forgetting brother Fred
Lost, presumed dead
Then you mention your lesbian lover Di
Who right away I’m thinking
How did she die
Not realising, you must be Bi
Then just as I’m getting my head round that
You mention the cat
Is there a dog
What about the fog
Oh, that’s what caused the bus to disappear into the bog
You saved the lollypop man Jack
Well, that’s a blessing
What
Died next day, heart attack
Shirley doll
Don’t think of me as a bit of a moaner
But Jesus girl
You're a ****** Jonah.
Afrodita Nestor Mar 2014
We are young
comparing to the secret beauties the earth hides
Like toddlers looking for a lollypop
******* every little moment
as a memento for our existence
Trying at any price
to live a mark, a smear, a scratch
Killing, destroying, abolishing, extinguishing
Where did we go wrong?
People, I don’t want to play along anymore!
Copyright Afrodita Nestor
We don’t belong here
Among people who see
Only red in the kaleidoscope.

People who will burn down the candy store
To keep a foreigner’s kid
From maybe getting a lollypop.

People whose good will
Ends at the top of
A concealed leather holster.

We don’t belong here
In a place where the scenery
Goes off limits 97 days a year.

A place where the wind
Is often angrier than me
And covers things with talcum powder dust.

A place where no humidity
Parches eyes and nose and mouth
And water gives you kidney stones.

A place where those with shrunken purses
Huddle down in freon igloos
Longing for the place they left.

We don’t belong here
The shadows of our spirits do not match
We sing our songs in foreign keys.

We hide the face of who we are
And wear the mask of fitting in
No, we really don’t belong here

But here we stay because
There is no other place to go.
          ljm
Welcome to the other Nevada. The one without the Roulette wheels.
The day rides off like some cowboy akin or a kin to Tom Mix,
sidesaddle,
I'm left paddling a canoe through the night breaking into the stars and making cocktails from comets,
if everything comes to him that would wait how long will it be, how long in this state?

The long shadow of eternity swallows me and yet I don't see the colours of a Universe only the ends of the string.

What light flashes before me in the eyes which do not see? not the past light of a fast life, not the soft light of a muted life, someone
turned the volume down and the 3D World turned blue to follow me,
was it you?

Under the skin where the habitual twitch starts to itch and the Demon wants in
I pretend that I'm out.

The praire though miles filled with empty and half strewn with cacti gets by on a lick,
I read the joke on the lollypop stick and my tongue swells.

I always thought Bow bells were bowed but they're not and that's what a lifetime of searching has got me,
not very much when it all comes to this, a tap on the keyboard, a peck on the cheek, see ya tomorrow or see ya next week and what I really need is that moment where bliss melts the curtains and the peck on the cheek becomes the kiss that would last for a week.

How long in this state?
I lay in wait
and wait.
Mean Mrs Mustard Jan 2019
please dont lie
i make you see and taste and hear mud
i stain your plum-perfect existence

i of knees and elbows
not suited for your world
in your i’s break porcelain
laugh too hard
and smile too loud

i spirited lollypop
on your dry stuck-up tongue
you cough me up

i sunrays on sundays
and fiestas on mondays
and wildfire through my tributaries

i spicy thick warm wine
dancing and shouting
expanding

you?
you sick pallor
you suffocate in your bitter skin

you winter without christmas
thirsty turkey with no gravy

i stain you mustard
Hi dudes and welcome to the Saturn community concert and our first guest is Kathryn Roswell who was my grandfather in her previous life and she is singing with Martin the Martian
With a top hat here they are
Their first song is agadoo
Which goes like this
Agadoo doo doo push pineapple shake the tree agadoo doo doo push pineapple grind coffee which was Kathryn’s fave song where she knows the words and the actions to and then she sang elvis Presley’s song love me tender which was a song she loved to sing to me ya know her last life’s grandson and then after that Martin the Martian who was John Mahoney from the tv series Frasier singing
I am a Martian with a top hat and I have no tie and I am ready to party all night when your young you will party
To forget about reality and have a little fun oh yeah party right
Yes everyone is ready to party with
Me and Kathryn yo here on Saturn
And I get my top hat and as I am wearing no tie
Just the perfect shade of green
I am a Martian with a top hat
With a naked green body
I am ready to party yeah
C’mon get out your top hat
And put on your dancing shoes
And party party party all night
And then Kathryn and Martin the Martian played a lot of seventies and eighties songs and everyone got down and danced, the songs were
Dancing queen abba
Sweet home Alabama
American pie don McLean
Standing on the outside cold chisel
Duncan slim dusty using all the names of the people here
And then they left the stage
And bon Scott came on stage with Michael Hutchence and Roy Orbison
Michael on drums Roy vocals and bon
On bass guitar they sang
Pretty woman
You shook me all night long
Suicide blonde
You got it
Who made who
Need you tonight
Handle with care
Thunderstruck
Devil inside
And then they bowed to the audience thanking them for dancing and left the stage
Then the crazy hip hop dancers from Jupiter who were Daniel morecombe
And Graeme Thorne who is me now on earth and Caleb Logan and they danced to great songs like
A hip hop version to YMCA village people and Stan from Eminem and another hip hop version of karma chameleon from culture club standing on the inside looking out which is a song I wrote and performed at the poetry slam and the last one was come on aussies come on the old cricket song and now we have some cosmic belly dancers coming out
Their names are Kim Davidson and Bridget bromhead and Ruth cracknell and they shook their bellies to chicken dance
And nut bush city limits and a Christmas song jingle bells and good ship Lollypop and rock and roll music
And after that the swinging yobbos came out slim dusty Alfred Waldron who was another previous life of mine and my currents life’s late father Barry Allan who is now Betty Campbell
And they sang songs like waltzing Matilda and fly burgers which was my first poem I wrote and a tisket a tasket which we showed our inner ***** and then we played all the afl theme songs starting with Sydney Adelaide Carlton Brisbane Melbourne
West coast Fremantle port Adelaide
The gws giants Gold Coast suns north Melbourne hawthorn st Kilda Essendon Richmond and Collingwood
And finished with the green machine
Canberra Raiders song and we left the stage then I came out to sing this song before the fireworks
It is called the schizophrenic Macarena
1 2 3 4 do the schizophrenic
From the first day you were born
To your current situation
With medication you can be reformed
Yeah mate yeah I am schitzophrenic
Don’t worry about my best mate
His name was rob butler
I wish I could explain it because I know
There was no best friend named rob butler
You see if I was married to Susan brown mate and if I had a family
With two sons David and mike
I know they don’t exist
But in a way I wished they did
And I am schitzophrenic
1 2 3 4 I am schitzophrenic
From the first day I was born
To my current situation
With medication I can be reformed
Wow yeah I am schitzophrenic
I like Christmas
But I am a Buddhist
I like the peace behind it
Despite being anything but at peace
With my crazy mental illness
Then I jumped in the back seat
Of my best mates cab
But the thing about it is
No mate of mine has ever drove a cab
Except Stan niemic but it is not him
1 2 3 4 do the schitzophrenic
From the first day I was born
To my current situation
I wish my childish dillusions will go away cause I hate being schitzophrenic oh yeah bow bow
And now here are the beautiful fireworks and that lit up the sky for 21 minutes, it was beautiful
Bye everyone and I will see you at the next cosmic community concert
Goodbye dudes
Napolis Jan 2019
rogue
smiles,

tender
lollypop

kisses
shared,

tell
our full
measure.

fingers
entwined
as we
sleep.

I reach
to pull
you close.

the moonlight
caresses

our entangled
silhouettes,


and again
like a
miracle,


it is
true,

I witness
it.

this
diamond
studded
sky has
lost
it's

universal
presence.


for it
pales in
comparison

to the
moments

you lie
over me.

and all I
see
is the

canopy
of you.
Whit Howland Nov 2019
something
to break the ice
or instigate a February thaw

the impression of trees
the childish lollypop kind
and sky blue thumbprints

overhead
that meet the curves and crests
of chalky green

it's what's needed
to unfreeze the heart
and flow the tears

Whit Howland © 2019
Impressionistic word painting
Watching the hands of time move on tiptoes around the face of the clock,
this old crock is still in bed counting the hairs left on his head or maybe this is one of those dreams where I'll wake up in a sweat,
the hands turn into lollypop sticks,
time ticks on.

It's real enough to stuff my ears with cotton wool and fight against the pull of gravity,
falling anyway into the gravy boat where Monday stews, but I'm still tired the picture cried
and inside I was too.
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2019
Is that a stop or a
lollypop

I'm blind as a bat
just squashed a cat.

Norfolk Norfolk, let
me see,

Is that the place I'm
meant to be?

Can't say for sure.
I've never b'in

I think it's time for
another gin.

My indicators both
work inverse

That lady thought I
was in a hearse,

Do I look corpus, am
I in the back

I'm Duke not Count
don't call me Drac'

Someone asked, was
I in A.A.

Because Bob and Bill
they won't delay.
Ryan O'Leary Jul 2019
There was a traffic jam
outside the bread shop
where the lollypop lady
was buttering up a loafer
on the pedestrian crossing.


Inspired by Suzanna Berlinsky.
I was halfway through reading Black Beauty and then I broke my arm, I never blamed this on Anna Sewell even though I was so engrossed in her novel that I never saw the car that hit me, but that taught me absolutely nothing,

I finished the book, The surgeon fixed my arm, the nurse gave me a lollypop because she said that I was too young for a glass of Mackeson, which, by the way, they gave to patients in the old days before everything got modern.

That was in the old infirmary where Nan worked for a time, a Victorian throwback which happened not to be a drawback to the work they did there and it's still there but now surrounded by a fine coat of even finer building where they do finer work or so I've been told,
but I'm old and they'll tell me anything to shut me up.
The smashing of the heart as it hits the rocks below
and where do dreams go when the tears begin and
then we're back to Faust or Freud, either tragic or annoyed
that we are in a play, but yesterday we were the script,
the words upon the bodies stripped and what fun until
the sun went down, the curtain fell, the ice-cream seller
gone only lollypop sticks stuck to the floor and
we don't belong here anymore.

Tired of this
I kiss the cat goodnight.
Just when you get your head around the
idea that a Zoom was an Ice lollypop.

things change and how,
ideas blossom and bloom,

and we're in a barbed wire room
for now,

— The End —