OH GOODY

My wish is to get my poems published

And not because I want to be paid

And I will just have to persevere

Until I manage to make the grade

I will give up trying however, if I see

A book of verse written by Jade

WHAT ARE LITTLE GIRLS MADE OF?

 

In more naïve times

When I was young

I was raised to think that

“What little girls were made of”

Was Sugar and spice

And all things nice

 

What an eye opener

When finally, you grow up

And you move in with one

Tampons, pantie liners

Feminine freshness

Lack of bladder control

Pre-Menstrual tension

Mood swings and flushes

These were secrets

Best kept that way

We’re constantly bombarded

With information we don’t want

Or need, in TV commercials

And in newspaper full page ads

Never inflicted on our dads

 

In times of more awareness

Now I am older

I now no better

“What little girls are made of”

Feminine itching

And moaning and bitching

RICHARD’S REPAST

 

How is this dinner?

Where’s the condiment?

Made delicious supper

With a chop of pork

And all the herbs

That spiced upon our plates

A brief soupcon

Of liqueur and berries

MEMOIR OF A NORTH LONDON SCHOOL BOY # 2

“That billy goat’s beard looks like Palmer’s fanny” Wendy said out of the blue and giggled

“What?” I said taken by surprise

“Who’s? Rich asked

We were sitting at the back of Mr Cooke’s 4^th year biology class.

It was the first class after lunch, and we were watching a very boring natural history film about mounting goats.

Rich and I had taken second sitting dinners which consisted of liver and bacon whereas Wendy’s lunch was made up largely of cider.

“Claire Palmers fanny looks like that” she said and pointed at a large brown goat on the screen.

“Seriously?” Rich said

“But she’s so small” I said irrelevantly

Claire Palmer was the smallest girl in our year by a distance, small and plain with straight lank hair and a freckled complexion, looking back she always looked like she should have been a year or two behind us, but I guess she stopped growing when her pubic hair started. 

I’d known her since junior school, but she was the quiet shy type, and I don’t think she said more than a few words to me in all that time.

To be truthful she wasn’t really on my radar but at that moment she had become significantly more interesting.

“She’s the hairiest girl in our year” Wendy continued

“What’s yours like?” I asked taking advantage of her alcohol induced indiscretion.

“Ask him” she said nodding in Rich’s direction

“You’ve been in Wendy’s drawers?” I asked shocked and a bit jealous, not because I fancied Wendy, but I hadn’t been in anyone’s pants except my own.

Rich just blushed, so I punched him hard the arm.

I couldn’t believe he’d had his digits among Wendy’s ginger pubes and furthermore that he hadn’t told me all about it.

He was my best mate after all.

But he was such a drip and he’d scored before me.

“Linda McLean’s got a corker though” Wendy said a little too loud as Linda turned around and looked at me.

 

As we were walking to the next lesson Wendy suddenly felt sick and went off to throw up, Rich had French in the annex, and I had German in the main block and it was when I was on my own that I felt a tug on my jacket sleeve.

“What were you lot talking about in Biology?” A girl asked

When I turned around, I saw it was Linda McLean with a frown on her face

I liked Linda even though she was completely flat up top, but I had to admit I liked her even more after finding out she was more substantially equipped down below.

“What?” I said

“What were you saying about me in biology?” she asked forcefully

“We were talking about the flicks” I lied “Rich wanted to see “Rio Lobo”, John Wayne’s latest and Wendy fancied “Love Story”

“I heard my name mentioned” she continued

I shuffled my feet as I struggled to find an answer

“Well, um…. “I mumbled “I said I was going to ask you to the flickers, and Wendy said “Great idea Linda’s a corker”

She didn’t speak for a moment then she said

“Well, are you going to ask me then?”

 

That Saturday night on the back row of the ABC Muswell Hill I confirmed Wendy’s assessment that it was indeed a corker, and I was left to speculate that if little Claire Palmer was considerably more luxuriant down below than Linda then she must have to wear bigger knickers.

WHATS IN A NAME (21)

Does anyone know did Penny Root?

Would you like to see Neville Shute?

Did anyone see was Sylvia Chard?

Does anyone think that Eddie Izzard?

FAREWELL CHARLES

 

Well, they finally got rid of Kennedy

Who likes to drink quite liberally

I’m not sure that it’s fair or right

He didn’t start drinking over night

They knew what they were getting

A man familiar with whistle wetting

What seems to me to be Nonsense

From the party with a conscience

For a liberal party not withstanding

Isn’t the least bit understanding

I wonder now about the motivation

Hounding him out before the nation

It wasn’t his reputation as a Binger

He had to go because he was Ginger

IN DEFENCE OF A PIANO

 

Apparently, I have double posted

A fact, which did not go un-noted

For this error I humbly apologize

I was unaware, I did not realize

But then the poem itself was abused

Which on this site I was unused 

The criticism levelled was not relative

And tended greatly to be negative

However, while trying to be funny

He missed the mark considerably

I have broad shoulders though for that

But should I respond tit for tat

Normally I do not like to be offensive

And it’s in my nature to be passive

Perhaps to get a response was the intent

Maybe that was indeed what he meant

But this may reveal an insecurity

Saying more of him than it does of me