I want to live in Elsewhere for it’s the place to be,
If you lived down in Elsewhere I’m sure you would agree…
Nobody dislikes Elsewhere it’s never on the nose,
The people all love Elsewhere,
That’s just the way it goes.
I want to move to Elsewhere,
Instead of living here,
And feel the call from Elsewhere,
I sense it loud and clear
Why must I go to Elsewhere…
Where ALL the stars align?
My weather man says “Elsewhere”
Is always bloody “fine”!
shopping around…
You eye me off amongst the flock
With look of pure disdain
You loathe me like a dirty sock
Yet here you are again
You seize the chance to push me round
I’m frequently abused
This love-hate bond in which we’re bound
Just finds me getting used
I’m vital, needed and required
To go the extra mile
I’m over-worked yet undesired
Whilst flung down every aisle–
But,…
My mind’s my own and that is that
It’s wayward and it’s wonky
Though cagey as a shithouse rat
I’m stubborn as a donkey
Quite hard to steer, I’ll make you fret
I’m over going forward
While one wheel does a pirouette
My other three head doorward
And if you pack me way too full
I simply won’t play ball
No wonder I’m a wretched thing
And such a bitch to haul
The flogged and well-worn shopping cart
To thrive in filth’s my goal
My hygiene factor’s off the chart
But this is how I roll…
I’m smeared with every kind of sin
No care, no clean, no rest
You’ll never reign this feral in
So do your level best
Yes, arm yourself with all you’ve got
Strap on the rusty skates
Release me from my parking spot
Your chariot, awaits…
~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright P J Ross
01052019
Image sourced from Google Images
six legged antics…
They’re coming by the arms and legs
They’re marching by the dozens
They’ve rustled up the whole damned force
They’ve called in all the cousins
There’ll be no break from flanks of six
They’re here in all me cupboards
There’ll be no emptying of shelves
This isn’t Mother Hubbards
I’ve wet wiped things so many times
These hands are bloody numb
They’ve seized all opportunity
They’ll covet any crumb
In every nook and cranny
They’ve been causing major strife
There’s just no way of stopping them
They’ve wrecked my fucking life
So till I find a blanket fix
I’ll have to damn well cope…
with little shits and legs of six
But I don’t have a hope!
~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright P J Ross
05022019
Image sourced from Google Images
I’m relentless…
It seems I’m fairly undesired
In spite of all I proffer,
My suspect links are not required
Repeated though, my offer
I’m always unsolicited
I rarely get invited,
Rejection is a common thread
My keenness unrequited
In spite of sound security
Your filters I’ve discarded,
I strike with unobscurity
I’ve battered and bombarded
To screw you over, I’m compelled
Your hard drive has erupted,
My expertise unparalleled
I’m wickedly corrupted
Spontaneous and off the cuff
Your Inbox I’ve been cramming,
And even when you’ve had enough
I’ll just continue spamming!
~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright P J Ross
01092016
Image sourced from Google Images
elastic child…
I’m five, alive and on the go
I love my fun in large amounts
But there’s a fact you’ll need to know
I have the frequent urge to bounce
I’m never short of energy
I’ll jiggle every pound and ounce
When vertical, it’s plain to see
Insatiable, my need to bounce
Embracing my elastic gene
A springy step is all that counts
The ground becomes a trampoline
and I’m compelled to do the bounce
It’s how I’m wired, I can’t resist
I’m like a tiger paused to pounce
Yes, once I stand, the legs insist
I do that thing and start to bounce
A pint-sized jumper through and through
I can’t keep still by all accounts
I’m human crossed with kangaroo
My DNA’s what makes me bounce
My feet so friendly with the ground
I feel that I must now announce
I’m done with chatting, see you round –
I’m heading off to have a bounce!
~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright P J Ross
09012017
Image supplied by P J Ross
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
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
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
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
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