Skin felt the pain
While playing a peaceful golfing game
Challenging the course’s blister campaign
Terrorizing the toe
Forcing a temporary surgical sew
Oh
No
To keep this show
On the go
They must know
Basic health care
Not to scare
Removing infected nail
Transporting remains towards the waste management pail
Bloody and red
Now dead
Left as trash
Above the fairway grass
Next to Frank’s Furter
Who was murdered
After pork barrel spending
And over lending
Worth commending
Pending
Cooking the links
Hearing what others think
About another medical review
Of the pinkie one too
Country club house bound
And the parfect round
No bogeys in sight
Feeling right
Since all has healed
Closing the deal
Without a squeal
Or scream
From the green
Manicured and pristine
Ready for a four-day dream
just take off a layer
or walk around
topless
i am the archpriest
eating sugar puffs
i am the prelate
eating bagels
i am halfway
in
and halfway
out the window
the mother-in-law wants it off
i am not for sale
my successors are labouring
like hercules
the hidrosis is formulaic
like glib one-liners
"it's bad for the bones and
you'll catch a cold"
bring on the catarrh
the indisposition
the bogeys
the runny front bonnet
and collectivist honk
the towel over the bowl
of hot adam's ale
seduce my soul my doxy
my concubine
a night emission
i make love to the air conditioner
In another narcoleptic nightmare,
along crepuscular curbs
I am endlessly stalked by the depraved.
Their railing against conspiring contrivances.
These gaslighting doctors of spin.
On every corner a barking Icke or Alex Jones,
On every path a fear-mongering Judy Mikovits.
Get hip to all the globalist conspiracies,
Look smart, as all the word-crafters think for you!
Submit, as all the witchcrafters take from you!
These gaslighting doctors of spin.
Everywhere the nebulous deep state threat!
Don’t you know?
OAN told me so,
and Fox News provided the echo.
Co-conspirators of conspiracy conspiring,
Their shrieking against baleful bogeys,
Their immolation of fading truths.
These gaslighting doctors of spin.
Warlord POTUS, a Stalin, and Hitler disciple.
“Truth isn’t truth,” Rudy told us, after all.
The best control of the masses:
choke all channels
with conspiring conspiracy cocktails,
these gaslighting doctors of spin.
Our nickname for bogeys was 'crows'
Small fingers were wedged up our nose
We got frequently told
Please stop digging for gold
Did I excavate ... shh no one knows!
www.theanswerbank.co.uk/Phrases-and-Sayings/Question165276.html
As children we called bogeys ‘crows’ it is a regional word in the Derby/Nottingham/Stoke areas... incidentally my hubby grew up about 5 miles from where I lived yet he called them bogeys
7/13/19
Val’s daughter was picking her nose
Then wiping snot on Val’s new clothes
When Val finds sticky mess
Of green slime on her dress
The distress in her quickly rose
Green bogeys all over her sleeve
So slimy they make poor Val heave
To resolve this issue
Hands daughter a tissue
But bogeys on dress will not leave!
Val’s outfit that once was pristine
Is covered with snot of bright green
To compound Val’s distress
She cannot wash this dress
Dry cleaning should get her dress clean!
each stanza 8,8,6,6,8 checked with how many syllables
3/14/19
It wasn't in India, it wasn't even here,
rather, where you wanted it to be my dear,
I don't like the food and all the old fogeys,
they all just sit there picking their bogeys.
We tell stories: some chap worked for Unilevers,
was he selling Mars bars in Africa - would you believe us?
I was there - they ask me: 'Why did you return?'
I'll tell you: 'Before my balls started to burn.'
Before I was hacked like Captain Cook in the South Seas,
my time was over when I was the 'bee's knees,'
however, I miss the wide open spaces when heart races,
due to sky and horizon with great interfaces.
Now I'd like the time back when I saw a cheetah in my path,
If they asked me: 'Did it hurt?' 'Only when I laugh.'
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