The day has finally come
Learn what was and what will become
A small injection that could change lives
With hope and prayer that she thrives
So much depends on this injection
To feel content without any rejection
To make those bipolar voices disappear
And her personality to reappear
The thoughts and voices driving her down
For months no smiling only a frown
Negativity flooding from every pore
This little thing could open a new door
All I need is for her to be safe
A promising outlook without the chafe
A happy and healthy women
And not sink this far mentally again
This type of medication is the last hope
Something that we both need to cope
I do not know what to do if this fails
Or what to do with all it entails
But I’m willing to let myself believe
In order to let myself feel relieved
Fingers crossed this is the answer
Without it is like living as a chancer
I’ve pinned my hopes on this
With hopes and dreams that can be bliss
This is just a small piece of the puzzle
But a giant leap forward in the struggle
Worlds collide
Its not your home coming day
The flowers wilters
You've lost that spark
Your future isn't bright
Tempus fugit
The discretion has gone
Just stay where you are
Fancy dancer
midnight chancer
you taught me the steps over
Give me one last chance to see
gave one more kiss than received
You try, crystal clear
memories are dear to me
It's the devil's dance, he is a chancer,
As he tries to take this life to cancer.
The news to fill your heart with dread,
As you, process words inside your head.
This news it brings a bitter sting,
The devil's joy that fate can bring.
He's a chancer bold in every way,
In truth, your thoughts, filled with dismay.
We face this news as laughter dies,
With a heavy heart and teary eyes.
The tears that run they stain our cheeks.
His vice like grip, the devil, speaks.
Your thoughts they turn to hope and fear,
This devil's waltz, so insincere.
As he leads and takes you by the hand,
Our teardrops fall in no-man's-land.
For though he leads you in a trance,
Transfixed within, this devils dance.
It's the fear of knowing the unknown,
A life once had is overthrown.
Leads up a path where no one plays,
It's dark and lonely passageways.
"Your life," he taunts a mocking cheer,
"Is but a game." to draw you near!
I let him waltz and play his hand,
I'll find the strength to make a stand.
My life is worth more than his game.
Where angels fly I'll stake my claim.
Is that your answer?
Was that my final chancer?
Do we have scope for more?
Can we still be each other's forevermore?
Why shall thy teach it to me in a hard way?
And why must I try to get taught in an easy way?
Please let it be your final straw,
Please give me a final chance.
I have tried my best to change myself,
and I will try more to do so.
The darkness you will leave me in is eternal,
please don't leave me and I'll be your imperishable.
A bug who loved to doodle
was floating on a noodle.
He had to get some sunscreen;
the sun was getting brutal.
He could not reach the lotion;
he needed a commotion
to interrupt the pristine,
make waves just like an ocean.
He saw a pretty spider;
he sidled up beside her
to ask if she would help him
because she was a glider.
She glided to a lady
Who was a big fat ‘fraidy.
A-shriekin’ and a-yelpin’,
she made the pool all wavy.
Our bug packed his caboodle,
then hopped out off his noodle.
It seems that he was last seen
astride a golden doodle.
So if you don’t want cancer,
and you’re a take-a-chancer,
a long-haired dog romancer,
doodles may be your answer.
The medic said lie on the couch
She swabbed my cervix , I said OUCH
It's checking for cancer
So I can’t be a chancer
For cervical smears I can vouch
I lay there with my legs akimbo
Butt naked I feel like a bimbo
My hubby needn’t fear
It’s just a routine smear
Not nookie with Peter or Jimbo
I think its's a total outrage
Girls are denied smears due to age
If detected early
It could have saved Shirley
And youngsters like Amber and Paige
In England cervical smears are offered to women aged 25 to 64. Personally, I think the age should be reduced as women in their early 20's have died as they have been deemed too young for a cervical smear screening. Whilst the test is uncomfortable it only takes a few minutes to be done and it could save young lives
* Third stanza added 01/15/22 -The names Shirley fitted the rhyme scheme and I've read about Paige Hart who was diagnosed with cancer aged 24. I've been made aware of Amber's Law and fully support the change of age to 18.
https://amberslaw.org/about-us/
https://www.thesun.co.uk/fabulous/9952172/woman-cervical-cancer-25-smear-test
01/14/22
I guess we can struggle when we sit down to write
But use your own words - to plagiarise isn’t right
When I read a poem that’s simply too good to be true
I then begin to question, was it even written by ‘you’
If I google a few lines it will give me the answer
You’ve been caught red handed – you were a chancer
I just want to read poems that I’ve never read before
If I find stolen work I won’t read ‘yours’ any more
Why claim words from another writer, as it is a crime
You’ll never find stolen words in any poem of mine
Part 1 posted on soup 7th February 2015
Part 2 ...
To obtain contest glory and gong
You stole another's words, it's so wrong
Plagiarism is vile
You've done it quite a while
I’m hoping this is your swan song
Hollander died aged eighty three
So tell me how could it be
His work’s here on soup
‘you’ wrote it – that’s poop
Soup booted this fraud speedily!
Sadly the culprit has once again been posting stolen work soup even entering it for contests, thanks to eagle eyed souper's he has been removed once more.
30th December 2019
Zila 'the killa' chinchilla as he was known
Sat in his villa on his golden throne
He was a marvel a maverick a real joker
A prancer, a chancer, a lifelong nonsmoker
Our boy 'the killa'.
Never mediocre, always bodacious
With girls he was, I say, flirtatious
Feeling alive never monotonous so audacious
Fur so soft they cried "goodness gracious".
That a boy the killa.
He put his looks to use
Cringey styles gave him abuse
On the catwalk flawless a real Zeus
Shuffling on four feet he did enthuse
The little bugger was let loose
Our furry friend the killa!
He did play hardball he made a racquet
His fame put him in a new tax bracket
Shops now selling his slick leather jackets
The naysayers who said he won't hack it
Killa's chirping like a feathery blue tit
Our dear old friend the Killa!
If there's something the Killa can teach us
To profit in this world you gotta have guts
Analyze that minus and change it to a plus
He made no fuss he never cussed
Call him a wus he will go nuts
He's one of us, the Killa!
I consulted a tyromancer
To see if I could find an answer
She consulted some cheese
And told me so much sleaze
I’m convinced she’s just a fat chancer!
Written after I read an article in the dentist’s waiting room today and I discovered that Tyromancy is form of divination involving observation of cheese, especially as it coagulates
09-19-17
If I find myself within a crowd
My mind drifts away, this room is too loud.
To any of the people I rarely hold a feeling
I shut them out, I'd rather look at the ceiling.
I never mean to hurt or disrespect
I know sometimes it has this effect.
Within my mind I feel most at home
Every bit of information stays stuck in my dome.
My mind can't be stopped like the rain or the thunder
I'm in fantasy land, I'm always at wonder.
What, where,when, why, who and how
Should I really be eating this cow.
A billion questions that rarely get an answer
I'm not an Einstein nor am I a chancer.
The purpose of my existence i been trying to find
I know the answer is locked in my mind.
Down with the demons into the dark obis
A lesser man couldn't do this.
I have the strength within my heart
To pull me out to where I did start.
They had me trapped with the things I did crave
I've broken free I'm no longer their slave.
My eyes are wide open my mind is now free
The bigger picture I'm starting to see.
This world is nothing but a Truman Show
Everyone is watching you must know.
Judgement day will come to use all
I sit and wonder if I will fall.
Puppet on your strings
You own me...
own my body and soul.
You play me...
you've taken complete control.
You can do anything
that you want ...with me
You play me... (I'm like)
a puppet on your strings
Watch me now!
You can make me, do anything
I'm willing...
'Cause I'm your puppet ...yeah
I'm a puppet on your strings
I'll be your...
tiny dancer
I'll be your...
soul romancer
I'll be your...
2nd chancer
I'll be your...
final answer
Pull me this way
Pull me that way
Pull me over
Pull me closer
I'll do anything for you
baby,
'cause I'm your puppet
I'm a puppet on your strings
So come on over now...
and play me...
pull those strings...
and I'll dance for you.
John Derek Hamilton
March 04, 2017
Your light at night will draw many men out
In black your light-candles a love call out
They will emerge at night at break of black
Your light a drug to men on beauty’s track
Your beauty draws men from the shadow’s cold
To flames of light your face his love blindfold
At night all men become a love chancer
Your beauty may grow a love lie cancer
You must look through the fake to see the lie,
else love will hide in black and cold and die
In love the truth is hard to find and keep
The day brings light to mind and love from deep
In truth his eyes the key to love, just look!
In there his love the truth, an open book
People have a tendency to think
they always know what is best
giving their opinion to everyone
putting their point over all the rest
Equality is never even considered
they don't think anyone knows better
but everyone has an opinion
small and great none is their debtor
Everyone has known many a experience
so have right to be given value
to be listened with true attention
real worth is what they're truly due
But they are those self opinionated
having higher thoughts of little old me
than they ought to truly have
for all were created equal you see
Do they really know better?
that question deserves an answer
what can one really say?
just think what a chancer!
Stopped in my tracks,
About to act,
They had no backs,
To brake the pact.
Out with living,
Within the shark,
They prodded giving,
And ripped the bark.
They shouldered guilt,
Fashioned disease,
Covered in silt,
They gave no release.
Indecent to dancer,
Productive to criminal,
They shook my chancer,
Into bilateral.
Never considerate,
Always conceited,
They live to abate,
The darkness bleated.
My hair is dyed to hide the grey and how my boobies sag
But I have it on good authority I’m a ‘Walnut Wag’
A ‘Walnut Wag’ … what’s that you may ask
I will enlighten you for that’s my task
A ‘Walnut Wag’ is the partner of someone with prostate cancer
This cancer can be cured so don’t let your man be a chancer
From our experience early detection is the key
With treatment your man can be cancer free
15th January 2016
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