Shame

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From a corner of my mind it came

a timid little mouse called Shame

no one suspected no one but I

yet I saw it clearly with its ruby eyes

 

looking all around , urging a retreat

its grey fur twitched , its tiny heart beat

you can’t be seen with her like that —

the thought pounced on me like a black cat

 

& so , it implored me to do as it bid

& though no one knew , to my shame I did

 

  • illustration from Wikimedia Commons

That Little Guy Inside My Head

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Every time I go to put down a poem

About my partner or family

That little guy inside my head says,

Hey You Can’t Say That! And when I ask,

Why not? He says. Are You Serious?

You Re3ally Don’t Know? But, of course, I do

But you can’t fictionalize everything.

You take away the bite of authenticity.

So I’m left with another poem I want to share

And I would, I really would but do I dare?

 

 

Staying in with a Friend

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I’m staying in with a friend today.

Like me he doesn’t look for other company.

We’ll probably lounge around, watch Netflix, maybe go out the back for a spot of sun if it’s shining then back inside.

Telly, sleep, periodic caffeine hits.

Don’t answer the door if someone knocks.

Maybe check out this post to see if it’s got any likes or comments.

Think about food a little later.

More caffeine so we can stay awake long enough to eat it.

Not enough to bust any moves. No, No, No dancing today.

Oh and more meds to fight off this fucking cold — sorry, buddy —

which as the Kinks say, ‘has really got a hold on me.’

Cue Dave Davies. And The Two Ronnies.

So it’s goodnight from me, and goodnight from him.

 

 

 

 

Tip-Toe Heart

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I take my beanie off to Job,

That Biblical figure who had

The patience of a glacier.

Me, I have the patience of a gnat.

I roller-derby my way through life

With predictable results.

Maybe it’s time I calmed my farm

trod quietly through each day,

Just me and my tip-toe heart.

That Little Guy

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I don’t know how to take the mattress that’s been dumped in our driveway.

Admittedly it’s not as bad as the dead cat that was dumped in our rubbish bin.

But it’s harder to get rid of.

It’s an affront.

You eye yr neighbors suspiciously.

Suspect the crotchety old bloke across the road.

And then you do something nutty.

You drag it up the driveway and dump it on the street.

You don’t think. You react.

That little guy inside yr head.

Someone in the middle of the night drags it back.

So you ….

It’s like a tug-of-war.

So what’s yr next move?

One thing’s for certain.

Yr not going to take this lying down.