Antygeddon

Posted on by phillippa68

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

 

Spam

Posted on by phillippa68

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

 

Bounce

Posted on by phillippa68

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

 

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

 

Loser

Posted on by phillippa68

I’m SUCH a…

My stupid keys have been misplaced
I left them on that bench, I swear
Each useless step I’ve now retraced
I cannot find them anywhere

I’m sure I saw them over there
And so I search with heightened haste
Location skills in disrepair
Those useless keys have been misplaced

I’m on all fours now, frantic-paced
Is that them down behind the chair?
A futile search is what I’ve faced
I left them on that bench, I swear

To ditch my keys is hardly rare
I just don’t have the time to waste
Though I don’t have a month to spare
Each stupid step I’ve now retraced

My kneecaps need to be replaced
My loser status can’t compare
The major fact I’ve now embraced
I cannot find them anywhere

For tossing keys, I have a flair
From spouse, I’ll have to take a baste
This “loser” gene is SO unfair
The scent of keys forever chased!

My brain has fried, my mind erased, the proof above, one bitter taste…

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
27122016

Image sourced from Google Images