My Pelvic Floor

Posted on by phillippa68

need–Plumber–FAST!!…

I think I may be wearing out
My pelvic floor,
I really must control my spout
And stop before…
my stream releases with a hiss–
This losing urine’s hardly bliss
It’s had a metamorphosis
My pelvic floor…

I’d much prefer to have a drought
Than wee galore,
Though barely full, there’s always doubt
I’ll reach the door,
My leaky valve I can’t dismiss
It prompts my frequent urge to piss
There may well be a crack in this–
My pelvic floor.

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
06012017

Image sourced from Google Images

 

Metronomics

Posted on by phillippa68

a third degree…

A meter natzi has the knack
Those das and dums will hit the spot
His word veneer without a crack
He’s slicker than a string of snot

For free verse shall be left to rot
He’d rather gallop round the track
To share the gift of verse he’s got
A meter natzi has the knack

His metronomics never slack
That pen is always on the jot
When fluid mind is on attack
Those das and dums will hit the spot

The meter junkie waxes hot
As phrase and lyrics he will pack
into each stride and winning shot
His word veneer without a crack

The measured words, he’ll shape and stack
Precisely timed and to the dot
That rhythm’s never out of whack
He’s slicker than a string of snot

A meter natzi boasts the lot
At free verse, he may be a hack
But primed for rhyme he fears not
For all the others fade to black…

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
27012017

Image sourced from Google Images

 

Lamb

Posted on by phillippa68

an octogram…

He must have wandered in the gate
The lamb appeared,
My children cried “A woolly mate!”
They clapped and cheered,
My husband mumbled in his beard
“Don’t plan on getting too endeared
For pot roast we have souvenired”
The lamb appeared…

In frightened, shy and timid state
The fence he neared,
My kids gave chase and couldn’t wait
The fence he cleared…
Toward the car that sealed his fate
With knife and fork he’d made a date
And so it seems upon our plate
The lamb appeared!

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
23122017

Image sourced from Google Images

 

Centipede

Posted on by phillippa68

multi-limbed dilemmas…

One hundred legs, one hundred shins
One hundred tiny little pins
One hundred tootsies in their prime
One hundred steps at any time
***
One hundred walkers march in beat
One hundred hurting, blistered feet
One hundred sets of trampled toes
One hundred heels with chafing woes

One hundred legs, one hundred limbs
One hundred aches as sunset dims
One hundred knees to skid and graze
One hundred yards, one hundred ways

One hundred ankles risking sprain
One hundred soles that reel in pain
One hundred joints that stretch and bend
One hundred soldiers till the end

One hundred legs, now homeward bound
One hundred trudge the soiled ground
One hundred footsteps through the poo
One hundred clumps of doggy doo

One hundred hints the scent is ripe
One hundred feet neglect to wipe
One hundred tiptoes like a mouse
One hundred footprints through the house

One hundred stains, one hundred smears
One hundred smelly souvenirs
One hundred tries to slip past Mum
One hundred times she kicks his bum!

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
12012017

Image sourced from Google Images

 

Knickeristory

Posted on by phillippa68

a brief look back…

I used to be a knickers girl
Until I hit me twenties
Converted to the skimpy thong
Bought g-strings in their plenties

Then time went by, I birthed two brats
Was in my later thirties
But bits and bobs exposed themselves
When I would don the skirties

I lived in jeans for quite some time
Till I got back me booty
And found the thong inspite of arse
Did not enhance my cutey

By this time I had well and truly
Hit my early forties
I traded thong for sex appeal
Slipped on the lacy shorties

But, here is where it turns to shit
My arse dropped in me fifties
With gravity I’d soon connect
Embraced the stretchy lifties

That next damned decade such a blur
The sixties not that kind
The sags so bad my granny dacks
would fall off my behind

The seventies and eighties, well–
I’m not sure which was worse
‘Cause Boston Bloomers suck like hell
When they’re on in reverse

But now I’m in me nineties, folks
I’ve had about enough
I cleared the drawer and bushed the lot
and just go in the buff!

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
06012017

Image sourced from Google Images

 

Resolution

Posted on by phillippa68

yeah, yeah, promises, promises…

I rarely see the light of day
I barely last a week
You never honor what you say
The blatant truth I speak

I’m bantered, tossed and thrown about
and often, willy nilly
Don’t pledge my oath if you’re in doubt
It’s kind of fucking silly

So many times I’m guaranteed
Or promised on a whim
If on the front foot, you can’t lead
Results are always grim

I’m not your weight loss trainer, mate
That’s getting pretty old
Nor smoker’s guide to clean the slate
That turkey’s just gone cold

No, don’t commit that booze you’ll quit
Then lay the rap on me
You want a raise, then drop the shit
Just ask the Boss man, see?

I won’t be held accountable
For all these wayward calls
No fear is insurmountable
Just grow some bloody balls

Your habits aren’t my problem folks
Don’t blame The Resolution
Man up for once and cut the jokes
Yes, be the damned solution!

The New Year rings in many things
Pacts made and sworn and spoken
While bullshit reigns on drunken wings
I’ll always be a token…

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
01012017

Image sourced from Google Images