Lippy Poems

Beware of Mama Bear

My Mama told me, "Don't get Lippy!"

"Better back up, and I mean Skippy!"

Scrunched up eyes, bloodshot Red,

Punched two teeth, from my Head!

I joined a Cult, became a Hippy!

I Made a Friend Tonight

        Snappy, Snippy, Slap-happy
           I made a friend tonight

        Loopy, Lippy, Lollapa-Lucy
           Sure feels good, alright

        Hearty-hardy, Uber-tea-party
           We’ll fly high as a kite

        Golly-gee, Gosh-m’nee
           Do it up right, her and me

Hair

I met a sixties hippie
his hair it was quite flippy
	I said he should cut it
	he told me to shut it
oh man, did he get lippy

Ode To Fanny Craddock

Ode to Fanny 

Her start in life was rather poor
with wastrel parents, ones to abhor
She avoided living in the gutter
Earning enough for her bread and butter

Her break in life came rather later 
Before, bigamy and babies to underrate her
Her kids grew up in the care of another
She never took to being a mother

Her culinary skills proved rather good
She could write and critique on all kinds of food
Destined to star in sixties telly
She graced her shows in glitzy finery

Her zany persona was rather dippy
Her dress was ball gown and misplaced lippy
Shunning apron and hat that looked so drab
‘Cos cooking and baking should always look fab

The man she had met was rather fine
Ex army major, life was divine
They fronted shows as man and wife
Fanny and Johny, well matched and no strife

Her fame continued for rather a while
Overridden by others in different style
And gaffes too many, they booted her out
No telly shows, no gowns to flout

Her recipes of the past still rather great
She put pizza and prawn cocktail on our plate
She and Johny, always a couple
Poor but content to remain conjugal

Ooh rather!

Southern Hippie

I once knew a lad from Mississippi
Who was known for being rather lippy
His retorts were rude
His mannerism crude
And strangely, he was a sixties hippie.

written September 23, 2021

Love Letter

scent and lippy sealed
grey ruled cream virgin paper
written love sprawls kiss


(NB whilst this is a contemporary haiku and is not ordinarily titled, it is titled in order to catalogue and find easily.)

Clown

You’re early today, her manager said
are you okay, did you fall out of bed
June told her boss, I’ve changed my routine
My bloke drives me in as though I’m the Queen

I’m able to drive but it saves time each day
If he drives and I do my face on the way
I see, her boss nodded and then simply said
Why don't you just get up early instead

June said, losing sleep doesn't worry my head
When driving gives me one more hour in bed
My brows and mascara were done on the road
My lippy went on at the lights where we slowed

That’s all well and good her manager said
But I think you should get up early from bed
For even a Jaguar, Bentley or Rolls
Can‘t save a girl’s face from a thousand pot holes

BUSHMILLS IN BUS STATION

Her hair's so black, the blue is breaking through.  
Centre-parted with furrow crown to fore, 
Perfectly placed and kept in position 
As pretty red ribbons bind the bunches.

Her face is crazed and tanned to leather.  
Too many benders on Benidorm beach. 
Her mouth is creased, possibly from decades 
Of dragging long and hard on king-size tipped. 
But her lips: Aah! A work of art in crimson. 

Today she wears a short-sleeve summer frock. 
Floral pattern with red to match her lippy. 
Her batwings flap-flop like Labrador ears. 
Her small white socks sit snug in hiking boots.

She is the little girl in the old lady. 
Time corrupts. Her comfort, her addiction. 
After her tour of town she sidles off 
To swig Bushmills on a bus-station bench.

Guess who must help to carry her back home.

Time Travelling Did Personality

Hello, my beautiful name is Deb, 
And I’ve a power to share,
I’m a little time travelling tripster traveller, 
Any time, any place, anywhere,

Like the other day I woke up in a house, 
A house that I never knew,
And I realised when I walked around, 
This house I’d never been to,

Or last week travelling to a concert, 
Mega loud, mega death, mega rock,
I travelled to sitting on the couch at home, 
The next day at about one O’clock,

And time travelling messes up my hair, 
Changes my lippy colour to what I don’t like,
But that’s the rub of travelling time, 
For this D.I.D. living psych.

Bold Rough

smile totally free
a sluggard tissue shall die
opinionated 
who does not know how to smile!
the rough bold lippy one way

Thigh Dreams

I am covering my thighs in baby powder, to ease the sore chapped skin

They are now red and raw after exercising, at an aim at being thin

my goal is to drop a few pounds, and maybe achieve a thigh gap

my thighs rub together with every step that i take, it gets worse with every lap

i would like to blame the celebrity pictures, of skinny thighs, its mostly photo shop

so ive decided to take a stand, start exercising and do a few food swaps

so i put on some lippy, and head to the gym, i am feeling and looking lush

After a few weights and a several rounds on the treadmill, i look like i have been dragged through a bush.

As beads of sweat run down my face , and my mascara starts to run

I realise its not so great in here, and it really isn't any fun

So if you see me baby elephanting, pounding the streets, and the roads shake within every lap

Just remember that i am doing all this for the skinny persons thigh gap.

A Girl

Pretty
Skippy
Dippy
Lippy
Was the charming, pretty skippy girl
Caught up in a dippy, lippy whirl?





7/3/2015


Strand Choice 5,
Any Form, Any Theme

Honorable Mention

A Happy Hippy

Well Plastered 

Sippy
Hippy

Upon Stumbling into the Barber’s

Snippy 
Hippie

Flower Child Wets Himself

Drippy 
Hippie

Peace, Love & Clumsiness

Slippy
Hippie

The Cheeky Free Sprit

Lippy
Hippie


Written June 7, 2015

And Her Sugarless Tea

Now for warm oatmeal with honey and her sugarless tea
To this chrysoberyl dawn rescue from chuted linen bedlam,
For here's a bedside tale to whispered promise and plea.

She sits on her hands and shuffles her ugg boots,
And watches me toast, I'm butter, I'm smoked ham.
Now for warm oatmeal with honey and her sugarless tea.

Pepper shakes, egg white eyes, her yawning toots,
Her champagne hair bubbles still of our liquory sham,
For here's a bedside tale to whispered promise and plea.

The wonder to her sprite body and this morn in cahoots,
When I feels like I'm sunken, with lids like a sleepy clam.
Now for warm oatmeal and honey and sugarless tea.

Not flowers on feathers, hoodlums we are - munchy and moose,
Nothing much matters but her lippy kiss coat of strawberry jam
For here's a bedside tale to whispered promise and plea.

This first light and cigarette and her shuffling caboose
Closer, comfier, her smile on my shoulder, to the day be damn' 
Now for warm oatmeal with honey and her sugarless tea,
For here's a bedside tale to whispered promise and plea.

Sans Servile

In sang-froid, sass cords:
Sangoma dashes siren,
Thunder crashes trunk;
Sarky banters with lippy.
Spim for Santa maidenhead.

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