Best Bedding Poems
Hey, I've got me a plan to survive World War Three
And it doesn't involve living deep in the sea
With a mermaid named Maddy from that '80s movie
Or a grey-skinned E.T. hoping to crossbreed with me.
There's a bunch of big blokes known as Bigfoot to some
And they live in the woods where most humans won't come
Though they've entered our culture as the years have gone by
They are still seen as legends and old myths, that's no lie.
See, in spite of their fur and their size they're quite smart
For their fondest desire is to live well apart
From us primates who ravage the Earth without pause
Like the virus that spreads through its host - just because.
Called by Yeti and Sasquatch and still other things
They refer to themselves as "Jemah" and are beings
Who, unlike the poor bipeds that include me and you,
Can converse without speech, like our pets often do.
Though the tallest are known to have grown to nine feet
And they stink like old garbage, not to mention dead meat
I shall fashion my life on this heavenly lathe;
I'll make Sweet Thing my wife, and I won't have to bathe.
Suns. Most often moons.
Slithering like a plague
From a craving nowhere
To a playful peephole
Which the poet himself can’t find.
Now it’s there—
Stains!
Now, what?
tender bedding plants
roots contained in starter trays....
soil awaits spring's warmth
For the first time
since the end of Summer,
Mr. Nobody wears his socks to bed,
a sad admission that
things were going to get worse.
Can't count on the
warmth of mother nature's breast
to keep his mammalian nature intact.
When he wears his socks
and he pulls the thin duvet and the
extra purple woven Dacron blanket
up over himself he feels
warm enough to sleep.
The cat, Missy, who sleeps on his bed
wants to go out. This is Mr. Nobody's worse fear,
like a fear of urination
a fear that keeps him from resting.
Mr. Nobody throws off the blankets, rises,
swings his legs over the side of the bed
and rests his feet on the cold wood laminate floor.
He shuffles to the door
Missy follows.
Opening the back door, he feels
the dread of the betrayal.
Missy scoots out.
Now, before he can sleep, Mr. Nobody has to remember
to find her and let her in again, realizing now that
William, the male cat had been let out earlier.
He will have to recover them both.
Mr. Nobody doesn’t know why he cares so much
about the discomforts of the cats.
He doesn't know if they suffer the terrors
of the failing pact with nature as much as he,
probably they do not.
Mr. Nobody returns to bed, pulls the cover-sandwich package
over his legs then over his chest. He rests,
planning to rise in an hour to go out and find the cats.
Mr. Nobody is certain that when he calls the cats
after an obligatory time
they will agree to follow him,
almost as if they know what's
good for them.
Wailing winds, crying in the empty night;
tripping leaves rattle across, walls and roads;
click-clacking out a lullaby.
Soon, squirrels will be rocked into a
hibernating dreamtime;
their nests swaying in high treetops.
As fall unmasks winter,
Mother Earth beds down her creatures;
tucking them in for
the approaching nights.
Wrapped in her white blanket,
she takes her, long-deserved rest.
BEDDING IN READING
There was a young couple from Reading
Who went to purchase some bedding.
They tried out some beds
And, as newly weds …
You can guess where this Limerick’s heading
28th May 2019
Bawdy Limerick contest
Sponsor - Tania Kitchin
Wailing winds, crying in the empty night;
tripping leaves rattle across, walls and roads;
click-clacking out a lullaby.
Soon, squirrels will be rocked into a
hibernating dreamtime;
their nests swaying in high treetops.
As fall unmasks winter,
Mother Earth beds down her creatures;
tucking them in for
the approaching nights.
Wrapped in her white blanket,
she takes her, long-deserved rest.
Brownness matches the little accents,
So I see, as covers are spread.