A poem about a girls´night on the town.

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Evening Out

I should never have gone out to Bingo
It really was doomed from the start
But Corrie´s not on of a Tuesday
And my hubby´s a boring old fart.

So I set off with Nora, my neighbour
She´s Irish – her dad´s name is Pat.
But she´s lived all her life here in Handsworth
And wouldn´t change any of that.

When we got to the hall it was crowded
And no-one had saved us a seat
So off we went down to the local
And downed a few large whiskies neat.

We then moved on to the chippie
And bought some meat pies in a bag
Then tottered out onto the pavement
 To eat them and light up a fag.

But Nora came over all maudlin
And started to sing ´Danny Boy`
Then she jumped on a passing policeman
And asked if he´d be her sex toy.

The copper had no sense of humour
So she was banged up for the night
Then I was tossed in the cell with her
When I threw up and started to fight.

The next day we both had hangovers
And wished that we´d never been born
The Beak found us guilty of lewdness
And seducing a policeman at dawn.

So the moral to learn from our story
Is never to sing in the street
But stay at home watching the telly
Or go off on a package to Crete.

An Apology

Since I couldn´t come up with anything to write about this week, I wrote an apology.

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                                         So Sorry!

It´s happened again – my back´s to the wall
No inspiration to write at all.

I´ve had a bloody awful day
Things have gone wrong every which way.

The circle should be pure balm to my soul
But my creative spirit´s on cruise control.

Foot-licking grovels to Nik and the group
I know what I´ve written deserves a poop scoop.


                   

               

Life Sucks For Some

Had the weekly Writers´Circle today - always a highlight in my week. The topic this week ( if you wanted to write on it, though not obligatory) was "Stepping Stones". I wrote a rather pessimistic poem on the subject. Probably influenced by the situation I`m in at present with a broken-hipped husband. Here it is.

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                                                         Stepping Stones


There are those who skim on the river of life 
They wheel and cavort in the breeze.                 
There are others who swim, take their time, reach their goal.
Once achieved, then they do as they please.

Most people must wade, fight the current or drown
On their way many sink with no trace.
A few use the stones for help as they go
Take a grip, stop and rest, breathe a space.

But some are unlucky. They make for the stones
In the hope they can stay there a while.
But find they´re not stones, not a refuge at all
But cow pats in a great pile.

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With that miserable thought, adieu!

Farewells

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Here is something I wrote just last week for my Writers´Group. It´s about freedom from an unhappy relationship.

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Goodbye, My Love.


Hip, Hip, Hooray!
You´ve gone away!
A sudden shove
Goodbye, my love!

Hip,Hip,Hooray!
In the Parking lot
The Council forgot
The manhole cover.
Adieu, my lover!

Hip,Hip Hooray!
Just one quick glance
I took a chance.
I made a lunge
And saw you plunge
Far down the hole.
God rest your soul!

Hip,Hip Hooray!
You´ve been swept away
To some far bay.
You were a shit
And quite unfit
To be my lover!
Allelujah, manhole cover!

Hip, Hip Hooray!
O, wondrous day!
You were a swine
Now life´s divine.
Hip, Hip Hooray!
That´s what I say!!

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Here´s another one on a similar theme

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Dear John

Dear John, my thoughts are with you still,
Although I buggered off with Phil.
See, he was sexy, tall and rich.
Yes, I know I am a bitch.

But then, what is a girl to do?
Ditch Phil, and toddle off with Hugh.
He asked me to the South of France –
It really was a golden chance.

I stuck it out – made a few quid
Then tough for Hugh – along came Sid.
He was most common and quite loud,
But goodness me – so well endowed!

It lasted for about a week
Then HE left ME! Now there´s a cheek!
I hung about, annoyed , in Cannes
And worked quite hard to get a tan.

But being bored, I moved to Nice
And there I met blond, blue-eyed Reece.
We got on like a house on fire
Till he found out I was a liar.

I´d said he was the only one
But went out clubbing - I´m not a nun!
He made me promise to be true
But then I got a text from Hugh.

So back I went to him in Cannes
He really was a pleasant man.
But though we got along quite well
I thought of you and felt like hell.

So would you like to try again?
Or are my pleadings all in vain?
I know I´m not the best of bets –
When I´m with you, you run up debts.

But if we don´t demand a lot
And try to be things that we´re not,
Praps we can give it quite a run
And on the way have lots of fun.

Then if it doesn´t work out right
If we argue and we fight
If it all becomes a pain,
On the back burner there´s a Dane.

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And here comes another one on ending a relationship but this is a bit nastier.

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The End of an Affair.

Away in the past
We thought it would last
Yes, I did love you so
A long while ago.

But our love has gone dead
There´s no more to be said.
Although you protest
And won´t let it rest.

You´re in my face.
This is my space.
I want you gone
So I can go on.

Please use your wits.
Let´s just call it quits.
End friends as we started
Although we´ll be parted.

Don´t be obtuse
Don´t give me abuse
You´re being a bore
I won´t take much more.

You won´t let it lie
And swear that you´ll die.
You give me the chills
And say you´ll take pills

You think I´m not tough
But I´ve had enough.
I can be rough
I call your bluff.

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Well, that one was a bit on the nasty side but, as I said before, at least it rhymes!

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