Dawg Gone Cat

               Soon as I saw the empty food dish I went into leaving-your-pet-too-long mode!  Get a sitter or a walker...!!

Hey! Cat -you've got the freedom to go out and hunt your own
while I can't get my dinner till my owner's come on home
You think your so superior with slinky-slanty eyes
but I've a bite so snappy and with quick and clean surprise!

And I'm not all that choosy as to who would taste my bite
so you're lucky you're in on your own this fine and hungry night
I guess I'll go and have a gnaw at that old bone again
but it's not as near as filling as my meat and biscuit grain

I wonder where they really go when they're home late from work
they take so long then wonder why I go a bit berserk......
So think your damn self lucky you've the freedom of the place
and wipe that smarmy feline-scowl off of your pretty face!

 *            *              *          *

Hey! - Dog - you think it's lucky to be out there in the world
that I'm always happy here indoors all fed and warm and curled?
Have you ever tried to catch your own? How perfectly absurd!
Takes the strength of Cleopatra to catch either mouse or bird!

No! It's not a nice place out there, you're not always treated right
that is the reason most cats wait to go out late at night
But I'm longing till they're back too - I'm hungry just like you
if only we had thumbs and learned to twist that opener too!

Yes I know from where your coming, such a long and fearful wait
till we hear the engine of that car, or squeaking of that gate
But i think it's time for protest and a little bit of grit
pick your corner brother, and let's drop a real big shit!

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Those Returnings

The morning came with coffee
and a sack of mute replies
Voices rasped with consternation,
pity in each other's eyes

They'd make safe conversation
as shouts battered the hotel
A heroine in satin sheets
and vast chaotic shell

The night before when neon
lit the contours of her shape
And flashes flattered every inch
of common man's escape

Kisses talking loudly
on her beautiful behalf
Left the same simplistic yearning,
cigarette and autograph

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                                     written for Magpie Tales

Sweet Venom

Poison Ivy on the phone - why can't you leave that man alone?

Infatuation, bold as brass, when they're alone within his class
Padded lips in twisted smile, eyes hypnotic, blue beguile
Manipulator, nonchalant, a marriage-wrecking debutante
Feeling those defences wane, as scents and smirks drive him insane

Poison Ivy on the phone, oh, how those lips and breasts have grown

Cascading hair in shades of gold, all sun-kissed, loved and uncontrolled
Addressing him in gingham frocks, bruise on thigh, and lacy socks
Suffocating steps too close, oh what those deep breaths could disclose and 
Nonesuch mind carries away the guilt he feels on this fine day

Poison Ivy on the phone - those silences you don't bemoan

Her following of wanton boys, whose soul and heart she soon destroys
Fail to sway her thoughts to them, this faceted, relentless gem
Who will not stop and so Hell bent, meaning every word she meant
That satin sheets and softer skin explode new senses deep within

Poison Ivy on the phone, please will you leave that man alone

Too much at risk, so quick to fool, something he never taught at school
So finalise and disengage, this girl around his own one's age
No more detentions, drives and lessons, before things run into confession
Just set aside those rights from wrongs - for we've been married far too long


© Pernickety Nell 2015

No Hang Ups Then?

Thanks for ruddy nothing, you've done it once again
made me pace outside the theatre like a half demented hen!

Your timekeeping is rubbish, always last out of the door -
said you'd be there for three-thirty now it's almost half past four!

I'm squelching and I'm dripping and my nerves no longer cope
mascara's running down my cheeks, my brolly's lost all hope!

My bag and it's belongings catered for our evening out - 
with sweets and crisps and programmes, tins of lemonade and stout.

Well,  I'm effing off without you, back home to my little pad
whose threshold you won't cross again, it's really rather sad!

So I'm taking off my hat and ring and cozy up inside - 
won't be seen with you nor taken for another ride!

But I'll keep the phone plugged to the wall, the back door just ajar -
mute the sound and maybe listen for the engine of your car

The chocolate must be Belgian, washed down with fizzy drinks - 
the bouquet huge and made up of - apologetic pinks!!!

Never Trust A Toilet Mirror!

A trusted friend I had in you
solely hanging in the loo
Lighting up above the sink
framed in bright flamingo pink

Helped as I made up my face
a lipstick kiss I'd soon erase
Little Miss Perfect in reverse
winks and pouts we would rehearse

You saw my tears and shared my shame
agreed, I won't do that again!
Unladylike from pees to vomit
zooming out me like a comet!

Heard my secrets and my farts,
got zit-pops down to a fine art
I'd bounce about in naked pride
and sing most ghastly as I dried

Then came the thought to rearrange,
my rooms in some domestic change
I fancied you out in the hall
t'was not a clever move at all

Looking pale and feeling shitty,
no longer sharing in my pity
Every time I went to tinkle
I never noticed that deep wrinkle!

I've never changed my food of late
yet you indicate I've put on weight!
Beauty should come from within
but I'm worried by that double chin!

Does my dress cling on this tight?
I must have looked an awful sight!
My hair's not doing as it's told
all waves and knots and uncontrolled

My senses ask, is this a farse?
Just look at thee size of my arse!
I should be gorgeous, but can see,
you won't co-operate with me!

You're dull and hard and can't reflect,
a two-faced friend with low respect
Back in the bathroom, so it seems
or find yourself in smithereens! 

************************************************

A Sole And Her Sea

Walking home late from the tracks of my past
I peer at horizons, with souls ever vast

I breath in the sea air, and cry to the night
as front waves appear in the sodium light

As lonely an isle with a lighthouse of love
whose beam is fast fading and yet to shine of

No lovers returning, no aquatic potion
just cold crashing loss between hearts and the ocean

Yet under the water swim thousands of you
temperate actions and hullabaloo

Shifty and scared, brave, taking chances
bullying, battling, swift primal dances

Gathering shoals of different kinds
colours that blend, others that blind

Shaping your world as nature intended
instinctively loving, a partner defended

I could capture you all, my ultimate prize
tossing back those I may come to despise

With all of you fishes held under the sea
can't one come ashore and try capturing me?
******************************

I Want One That's Not Chocolate!

                              Sorry this one is a bit late - trying to catch up over the Easter holiday.  
                                                      Just a quick effort with little tones of my own Easter childhood!


Every year on  Easter Sunday
shiny shoes and cotton shirts,
All that Sunday Best malarkey
bored to death in that huge church

Hymn books open ready
morbid songs they make you sing
Hold your breath next to old Charlie
or inhale that  musky ming!

In the morning came a visit,
Easter Bunnies clad  in blue?
Just nutters in a onesie,
fooling nobody but you!

Little lamb a-bounding,
with energy galore
Till the day he's on the menu
feeds a family of four

Hens-a-constant laying
eggs-on-the-constant boil
Colours, faces, and cool patterns
for us to smash and spoil

Gee - all those shit straw bonnets
piled as much as you damned please
Then a prize for putting up with
hostile birds and angry bees

It's sad to hear the story
crucifixes, rolling stones
All forgotten once the wine flows
with no sin there to atone

When He's born we're given presents,
given chocolate when He dies
Forgiven each hypocrisy
before His very eyes

Such memories to last me,
arms so full of daffoldills
Stolen from a nearby cemetery
looks nice upon your sill

Same time again, then, everyone
school holidays of Yore
From Fridays through to Mondays
bring about that tin foil war
************************************

Familiar Steps

       The prompt looks similar to my own town, so I took things from there (we're mostly well behaved) but I'm referring to street night life in towns all over. 

'Come unto me', the borough sighs,
amid the air its streets supplies
Offering a multitude 
of promises, the night exudes

Cobbles making ankles twist,  
shines sequins dresses through the mist 
Ladies dominate the clubs
and smirks at all the men she snubs 

Venues oozing pitchy beats
while skin and speakers overheat
Euphoric verse from local bands
as strangers hold each other's hands 

A blind spot found to consummate
that pent up vibe hormones equate
No safety sake and such like sins
watched over by store mannequins 

Alternate night life rarely sought, 
where armies ran and soldiers fought
Replaced by battles outside bars, 
the rush of trains and midnight cars

Homeward boundings of the younger
slaves to mashed heads and false hunger
Statue crowned with traffic cone
whose iron heart has turned to stone

Unmarked cop cars cruise along
preserving peace and drunken song
Until the city's whisper ends

preparing for its deepest cleanse

And in the morning, bang on six, 
the scars of late post-teenage kicks
are strewn like litter on the breeze 
contagious and desired disease

Noise and clutter reign again
business cards and fools campaign
In my town there, familiar screams
till evening's bursting at the seams

****************************************

♥ - Woody Woody Wuv Hearts - ♥

                  

                                                                                 Kept things simple and silly this week!
Still standing there, that rugged tree
adopted by both you and me

we watched the world from way up high
all love 'n' stuff  into the sky

our perfect hide-away from school
playing both the owl and fool

a knight clad in maroon and grey
you stole my very soul away

just off that homebound shaded path

we kissed, we climbed, we sung, we laughed

catching leaves that fluttered down
you twisted them into a crown

for I became your wood princess
all floaty in my week-end dress

fading then regaining shoots
deciduous  from hair to roots

with careful chips we carved our heart
the time had come now to impart

it meant so much, so much to me
us spending time around that tree........................................

adult years now bring me back
retracing steps and stirring tracks  

announced yet in the here and now
amid the blossom, bark and bows

an arrow thwacked and cutting through 
initials joining me and you

a solid tree destined to last
oh, how these years have whizzed by fast

my first true love, my heart's big deal
oh how I wished that you were real 
***************************************************************************************

Streets Petite

Just a rushed job from me this week - mind went into cantbearseditis and stated there tonight - I may return tomorrow to edit. This is fairly shitty!  

A patriarchal landmark traditional and tight
  not obsolete nor populous just sweetnesses and light 

Little village luring, with a wry historic smile
  cobbles, gaols  and folklore to both frighten and beguile, 

Curves along with character, mysterious and proud,  
  always something happening but very seldom loud

Gulls a constant nightmare with their daring swoops and pecks
  shops and public houses gain the utmost of respect

Floral scents and sea foods, pastries and parfait
  a potent breath of yesteryear for you to take away 

Houses thatched and steadfast, reach the roof edge as you stand
  streets' adjacent windows sees the neighbour's holding hands

The huge protecting steeple guarding all within it's view
  counts more visitors than residents forever held in lieu

Return for pure perfection never-tainted souvenirs
  a whisper venerating for the whole wide world to hear

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Feel free to  join Magpie Tales via this link

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Froth Off

Nein! Nein! Nein!  It's bathtub time
    should cleanse the guilty and sublime

Staring, daring in the raw to
   bubble up within Grimm's law

Praying, staring at the door
   the slightest noise one can't ignore

Eva's razor left behind, no Braun
    to make sure her blades glide

Dirty, flirty boots to clean
   a fuhrer's passion so pristine

Quelling, smelling, edelwiess
    few words said but so concise

Actor, factor, years to come
   secrets washed with bath ring scum

Nein Nein Nein!  It's bathtub time
    be careful with that dirt and grime

Hates, berates each finest hour
    refuse his offer of a shower.............................

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Gullable Travels

the prompt took me an unusual route this week as I viewed it as humans unwillingly being drawn into the mouth.  And as I always stick with the first thought that comes into my mind (apart from one shameful time) thus doth ended it up, like........innit......sorta fing....


We're head to toe in questions, finding answers without proof
holding on to anything the mind accepts as truth.
We struggle with the present , can't foresee, or won't recall,
lest it unfurl there in front of us, some won't notice at all.

Doubt those hanging gardens, now the lighthouse beam ran out
those falls will minimize you as you stand and scream and shout.
Aurora holds on to the night and shocks the midnight skies
defying all that wonderment in spectral alibi's

Encouraging our children to believe in certain things - 
stout characters clad all in red, enamel thieves with wings
Knee high men in shades of green, their rainbow's end to find
cocoa ridden rodents with foiled goods to leave behind

Visitors from other realms, whispers in the ears
eyes that see but never sought, until one disappears
Clairvoyant, tarot reading, message carried in the stars
a higher force then, to decide, what is and isn't ours?

Demons, angels betwixt thoughts, in anno Domini 
heavenly dimensions, hell flames scorched across the skies
Followers that shrink then grow, impending storms and views
Gods, protectors, idols, drawn into that finale ruse

Believe or non-believer, comfort given, losses gained
left to our own devices, either willing or ordained
We'll perform the whole world over in the Circus Of No Sense 
amongst our many life forms let the show of life commence.

***********************************************************************

Heavenly Housewives

                                       Can't believe it's been 7 months since I last was here!  I'm back and plan to keep it that way!        

From top to bottoms, sighs controlled
and busty sighs in clouds of gold
She worries over skin and limbs,
her little cherubs dance akin

To strew her palace, endless toys,
sticky fingers, mess and noise
A routine balance now to pot,
a lover of her own free thought

No marching orders listened to,
awaits the voice of you-know-who
The second he glides through the door
their naughtiness abides no more

He cannot understand her fuss,
no subject matter to discuss
Just adoration all for him -
her darling little nephilims 

Bedtime calls and seizes them,
it's off to la-la-land again
While mother hangs up wings and breath
so very little she has left

To go towards another day
where morning steals her knight away
For battle new and battles won,
angelic daughters, saintly sons.

        **********************************************************************
  

The Fruit Loop

 

Forgive my passing footsteps and not stepping in your store
Despite your displayed fruit and veg being a brilliant lure

You see, my hubby grows his own, despite those grubby nails!
His hard work goes to highest lengths and nature then prevails

He grows fantastic produce, due to mighty love and care
Spends more time out in other beds than our one up the stair!

From apples, pears and strawberries, broccoli and beans
He's a man of many textures, sizes, smells and shades of green

So forgive my meantime absence, and now *cough* please beg my pardon
For I have an  effing genius who rules the entire garden

How tropical he makes the taste, a greenhouse full of mixture
Around the world in 90 days, one hot and glassy fixture

Though summer never lasts that long, right to the end he'll toil
To the last exhausted fruit that's saying goodbye to the soil

Until winter takes a hold again, I'll have to pass you by
I'm getting portions of my 5-a-day, from my green-fingered guy!

**************************************************

Threadbare Harlot

Covered it in carpet, polished it with paint
leads right to the very door where naughty boys acquaint
Feet of different fittings, climbing up the stairs

And yet… He remains in bed Staring at the ceiling She cries softly on the couch Feeling broken, used Just a receptacle for his need While she remains empty She fingers her phone Thinking of the invitation there Very casual A shared cup of coffee Nothing more, and yet She reads the real invitation In the depth of his eyes When he looks at her She wipes her tears as she thinks of fidelity and promises… He walks into the living room Suddenly shy She tries to cover her body With her red see through lingerie Her black hair covering her mascara streaked eyes He kneels down in front of her Pushing away her hair His eyes searching hers And holding t - See more at: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/best/prostitution#sthash.sUgRRSgj.dpuf

a fine day for hypocricy that is or isn't theirs

A steady flow of regulars, some more fresh of face
others terrified to even rid of her her lace
Descending down the carpet, guilt and shame and God forbid -
pray mum, the wife or clergyman won't find out what you did!

Neon lights they sizzle from the sign above her room
her nightly ritual smelling of cigars and French perfume
A quiet word of warning for the older gentlemen - 
to watch the threadbare carpet as they head back down again

A rowdy few, a roughland gang, can terrify and scare -
she'd scream out loudly for the cops, but they're already there!
Ridicule and nastiness, occasional bad blood -
sometimes the carpet caught their toes to land them with a thud!

A handsome little virgin, trying hard to keep his quest
spent the entire twenty minutes simply laying on her breast
Despite his intact youthful bits and less than manly dare
his feet would never touch a step for walking on pure air!


A copy of The Harlots House lay on her bedside table
Grace became her name and friend as far as it was able
Saw her through the game of mostly staring at the ceiling
a story that walked up the stairs and down with it's own meaning

*sigh*

Farewell soon to this, her means, with earnings vast and mighty
a little house all paid for, from this back street Aphrodite
Carpet colours, piles so thick and patterns to boot
a perfect fit throughout the house, for just her  little foot!

**************************************************

he looks up at the ceiling and wonders How life has changed him - See more at: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/best/prostitution#sthash.sUgRRSgj.dpuhard to believe this carpet is just a decade old,  secrets to let free........havana on it's knee

Cracked

They think of him as a little mad                           
consistency not a thing to be had
Feels not like red blood that flows in his veins
just a liquid concerto to capture his gains

An artful John Doe with eccentric guile
a clouded up basis for that ruthless smile
Moving around without wing, without wheel
some pertaining to him as a quick, gracious steel

Staring across the same crowded-out room
time for his business and bite to resume
Cements himself firm in the dimly lit corner
a bonafide nightly, morality mourner

Kisses the girls, the boys even better
posting himself like a brutal chain letter
Soon to engulf in narcotics and sweat,
a foul morning headache's as good as it gets

Mother and nature in pair didn't care
Father's hand, like his pride, simply never was there
Blessed this only child's rife ballyhoo
atonement for birth, but just who's fooling who?

****************************************

Lost Lady Luck

 

                             Lady Luck apologies
                            for her lack of showing face
                            Abandonment, no diamond rises
                            club or heart a darned disgrace


                            Lady Luck lets out no whisper
                            leaving you a suit no less
                            Notes like stakes, a whole lot crisper -
                            poker face to acquiesce

                            Lady Luck sits at your table
                            giving you the widest berth
                            Returning to you when she's able - 
                            winning streaks for all she's worth.

                            Lady Luck, now that's she's spoken
                            likes this table set for one
                            Absence is her strongest token -
                            Queen of Hearts orbits the sun.

                            Lady sits while Luck is dealing
                            Patience rules the gambled soul
                            Matters not what you're concealing -
                            just one victor to extol
                             

                             

*****************************************************************************

Dragonfly

The sky with its clouds, talk to her clear and loud
in passing on this gentle morn
Lost in the heat, roses smelling so sweet
intertwining the scent of grass shorn

The air clean and pure, skin soft and allure
lulling those senses to sleep
Nothing to do, gentle breeze pushing through
in a hush that is all hers to keep

Now rubbing her eyes, as a warm nature sighs
its breath raising hair on her skin
Extending it's grace to another fine other place
where a heart and a soul beat within

A small fountain runs, as she sins in the sun
with the visions within her mind's eye
Him returning to earth, in a instant rebirth
in the guise of a lone dragonfly

(who makes a personal appearance in the pic!)

*********************************************************

Clutter Them Up!

I work more efficiently with clutter, my hubby works better with space. I thought this the perfect opportunity to dedicate this to him.  Hold on......there goes the hoover....see what I mean!!?


I hear them say, that charity, begins here right at home
well in this place, a lack of  space, leaves not much room to roam
A tidy minded, loosely guided, hubby paces floor
guards within the rubbish bin, behind the kitchen door

Calls it hoarding, and according to him it's all trash -
my imperfection, book collection tossed out in a flash
All my stuff, in hairy huff, he'd donate to the needy
while I delight, in messy might, oh yes, indoody deedy!

Brass and plastic, bright fantastic ornaments and things -
shades and cards, pot plants for yards, junk jewellery and rings
No paper, litter, things that glitter, ever hang around -
music sheets, still incomplete, get scrunched and bucket bound

The cheeky git, will not permit, my muddy bike inside -
next time that I, cycle rely, 'twill be a soggy ride
No dirty face, shoe laces laced, hair ribbons tightly tied
he'll check your shoes, for doggie poos, before you come inside

Vase antiques, dolls quite unique, and rarely seen again -
may get, oh, no! the big heave-hoe, in this mess-free domain
My memories, old thing that please, grow stronger every year -
suitcases filled, history built with every souviner 

Some doors bursting, husband cursing following a rumble -
contents spill, lost all goodwill, and patience starts crumble
Guitars all rusted, him disgusted, moths and spider webs -
full hypertension, if I mention what's beneath the bed

Maybe I should, attempt some good, I know he'll never change -
a neat old codger, his housework dodger, need to rearrange
I leave him there, in his old chair, with paper and a scotch
I'll work each day, for peace not pay, in some charity shop

*****************************************

Daintily Does It

 

Little Miss Dainty has afternoon tea 
most days at a quarter to three 
Equipped with big eyes and a stole round her neck 
with lips that are red as can be

Shooting her gaze round the Chez Petite Plats
(though it makes good on Earl Grey as well)
Looking to lock with lone gentlemen there 
through this crowding of fine clientele

So finds she a man who invites her to sit - 
wouldn't see her this anxious at all
Gives him the story of being stood up 
then lets crocodile tears start to fall

By the end of the teapot, she cracks him a smile 
the poor man has been suckered in
So their meeting steps on to a nearby saloon 
both their sorrows to be drowned in gin

A room in the public house, they ended up
distress and hurt gone now for sure 
Him asleep in a heap of strong violets and lies 
she quietly sneaks out the door

Little Miss Dainty now heads out of town 
while counting his money with glee 
Spending today in a town oh so new 
stopping off for some afternoon tea

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