"podgy" poems
We sit cross-legged in the story corner
Breathing faint ammonia smells.
Table chants and hymns echo through corridor acoustics,
All creatures great and small.
We are wedged in a tangle of podgy thighs,
Grazed knees, scabs and warts.
And Anthony is sitting alone again
Where he can do no harm.
Yet he said he would bring it, and bring it he has.
Its tiny white head is nosing over
The hem of his pocket,
Whiskers a-twitch and
Eyes like tiny blood blisters ripe for popping.
A shudder of shivering whispers and
Nervous heads are half turned:
Yes, Anthony is smiling his special smile.
Mrs Lloyd has found the page,
My lids are squeezed tight
As I urge my mind to follow her away
From here, away from now.
For playtime will be ****** once again.
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 3:20 AM UTC
He’s not how I remembered him
All charming, tall and handsome
He’s podgy, dull and boring
His cockiness has left him
I nearly started snoring
When he told a story
He’s also going baldy
He’s lost his crowning glory.
I’m not saying he’s not charming
He’s sort of…in a way
But not the man I dreamt of
He’s definitely away!
He’s jaded, tired and bitter
There was no spark or flutter
He asked me if we’d meet again?
“Not sure?” I think I muttered.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
A twisted roast;
with a contorted face
of agony that most
blur just to taste.
God’s wrath beat fires
through the muscles
of impetuous liars.
Beaming pink like jewels
and impaling the fools
that build podgy prizes
of blood filled sacred pies.
Just for the masses.
Now prodding blackened fat
with a spitting adulation
caressing their tongue
on delicate tender tissue
courtesy of your virtue,
just six months and a quarter
cuz i'm just a pig who
lost life to the slaughter.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC
I.
Snowman in the park,
not there yesterday
but watching all this morning,
eyes that don’t blink,
black as a crow.
II.
Children **** him
with a vegetable,
a tartan scarf throttles
his frozen throat.
III.
Button-like holes
form a grin,
a banana of circles
fingertip-made.
IV.
Sphere of snow nearby,
an unfinished friend,
project abandoned.
V.
Went to see it,
the skinny veins
of our footprints
a chain around
its podgy white body.
VI.
Sun sploshes the face,
squeak as we touched
its cheek,
residue on our gloves,
signs of decay.
VII.
Doesn’t talk
but sits ignorant,
questions not answered.
Kids get bored.
VIII.
Why will he vanish?
Everything is temporary
a parent explains,
cold as a cube of ice.
VIIII.
Days later
we see it crumble,
great clumps that slump
to the ground,
shedding limbs.
X.
Gone until the next time
I say.
Gone and forgotten,
I bring the scarf back in.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
I bathe in raindrops.
Dry in sunlight.
Freeze in frost on mornings bright.
Moonlight plays upon the clouds, as morning chorus plays out loud.
Rats and mice do cross my path, as morning comes around.
The fast train flies at rapid speed, flinging sparks as it precedes.
Silently I sit at dawn upon the station so forlorn.
The light of dawn climbs to the sky.
Slow train creeps and here it stops.
Sparking as it slowly stops.
Next stop up the line is mine.
Always busy.
Business men and dolly birds.
Female creature without a tongue.
As if I robot moves, a trophy upon a podgy business arm.
He slyly glances at all the females on the station.
London bound.
Waterloo.
Ascent into the land of work.
By now the sun has reached the sky.
I wonder why, when I get into the land of work it's really nearly dark.
And when the evening comes around the light has faded into night.
But night's not gone.
It's not right.
No proper daylight do I see.
Until the spring has sprung for real.
(c)LIVVI
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
Suspicious Snot-nosed Scrawny Legs
And Wobbly Wide-eyed Gummy Grin
teeter along behind me.
Audacious Angel-face Analytical Brow
with Podgy Pious-Chin Pendulum Arms
high on her hip follows.
Beguiled by my gait they gape, mouths hanging
longing for a stranger's favor they wait
scattered along the road.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC