Long Epsom Poems
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Inspired by Joseph Mays limerick contest.
(not for contest )
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A mischievous chef known as McMurray
For a joke put Epsom salts in the curry
The toilet door he did lock
The customers were in shock
He left by the back door in a great hurry.
An astronomer by the name of Pete
Was perving at the lady cross the street
Full moon he did spy
But not in the sky
He got caught and went as white as a sheet.
There was a dodgy plumber called John Blake
No plumbing skills was a bit of a fake
The wrong nut he undone
Panicked went on the run
Now downstairs of the house has its own lake.
A randy teacher called Fred O'Hare
With a young girl he had an affair
But she told her dad
Who went hopping mad
Now Fred is getting medical care .
There was a very weird poet from Bude
Loved to sit out writing verse in the nude
A wasp stung his manhood
Screamed out as you would
Doc said that's what you get for being rude .
Baking cupcakes with my sister came to a screeching halt
Thought we were using sugar and found out we had the salt
Decided we should try and fix our mistake
Added some extra chocolate and put them in to bake
The end result was delicious, salty and so sweet
Quickly became a favorite for all our friends to eat
Salt is in the ocean, salt is in the air
Salt is in several spices, salt is everywhere
Salt can be helpful as a soak for the skin
Will draw out the infection that has formed within
Salt can help rehydrate if the mixture's right
A heart healthy diet says keep salt usage light
During the winter, your sidewalk's full of snow
Salt can help you melt it so you don't slip as you go
Pink Salt is filled with vitamins, that's what I read
And did you know a sprinkle can show bugs in your bed
Kosher salt is used for pickling and meat
Salt is in almost everything you eat
Salt can raise blood pressure, cause water to retain
Epsom Salt as a soak will relieve your pain
Salt is like anything. Best used in moderation
Salt has been around since before our generation
02/27/2021
Written for Salt Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Biaanco
Ned was grandma's billy goat,
The meanest goat in town;
Every time you crossed his path,
He'd try to butt you down!
Buddy was our neighbor,
A twisted lil' teen;
He always nagged that billy goat,
For that's what made him mean!
Fate caught up to Buddy,
We had an awful scare;
He slipped on muddy soil,
With his butt in open air!
Ned saw his target,
"KA-THUD!!"...was all we heard;
Buddy flew across the way,
I could swear he passed a turd!
Buddy tried to squeeze himself,
Between a wooden gate;
Mercy failed to comprehend,
By then, it was all too late!
Trapped like a weary mouse,
Bud's rump in open view;
Ned landed fifty thumps,
His butt turned black n' blue!
It took us all to save him,
Talk about a battered fig;
All the while he was screamin',
Like a frightened little pig!
Hot baths and epsom salts,
A lesson Buddy gained;
He slept beneath a ceiling fan,
To ease his throbbing pain!
Oh, what a laughing stock,
We teased him constantly;
"BILLY GOAT!!", we'd often cry,
Just to watch him flee!
Clippity Cloppity
Emily Davison
confronted race horses
losing her life
dissident suffragette
indiscriminately
committed sabotage
chaos and strife
Hickory Dickory
Leonora Cohen
hunger strike ends with the
cat and mouse ploy
campaigning for justice
legitimisation
Scapegrace to magistrate
ending in joy
1 / 28 / 2021.
During the 1913 Epsom Derby, Emily Davison threw herself under King George V horse
Anmer. Dying from her injuries 4 days later.
Leonora Cohen in 1913 vandalised a display case containing the Crown Jewels in the
Tower of London. Defending herself, she was released on a technicality. After another act
of vandalism, she went on hunger strike while in prison, but was released early. This was
due to Lord Asquith's cat and mouse act. Giving prisoners time to recover, preventing
needless deaths while incarcerated. Leonora was trampled on by a mounted police horse,
during one protest march. She died aged 105 , serving as magistrate for 25
years and receiving the O.B.E. incidently she was born in the city of Leeds, where I too was
born and bred.
This morning the sun burst over the hill warming the trees with its morning glow and scorching the grass before I could mount the horse.
It is the warmth in the East that sets your heart on fire and mingle with the passion burning on your lips as you make that journey towards the junction.
I can see them coming from the East with fire bubbling up in their belly but they quickly pivot to the north to cool the temperature down and change their night gown.
They have been traveling for days with bag packs and mountain hats, they hurry to refill their dry water bottles to wet their cracked lips and soaked their dry feet in Epsom salt.
I watched them searching for words to express how they feel but the words couldn't come out and tears began to flow. Each one has a story to tell of how they escape from the bottom of the well and how the night fire and the woodland character shaped their personality.
It was a journey that no one could bear and it was packed with misery and fear, the woodland ,sound, the wicked witch crown and the woodpecker frowning at the bush doctor, the owl at nights created a symphony that ruins everyone's appetite and the philistine buried under the rubble crying out for help created a mountain of troubles.
When darkness prowl around at night everyone sits still and listen to cracking trees and the birds talking to each other. I sat their listening to the bag packers' story and as they re-call their experience my spirit grows stronger and the north wind began to blow and cooled down the temperature
See them coming from the north riding on their bountiful horses, they are going to the junction to join the celebration. There is a along line of car behind you and one Infront of you, you have got to bake the special cake and take it to the junction before it's too late.
Meet me at the Junction and I will show you where the figure stands. The road is joined into two at the junction.
In the virgin pool waters of Point Erin
stood a siren in her fairest beauty all -
my heart dared to want and its flesh of sin
did upon her beguiling favours call.
Remembered are the concubines of court -
a fire in my codpiece and in my jocks,
jousting grey knights whom over you fought
and a Celtic Queen in long flaxen locks.
Over the toll bridge a young lord and prince
from the realm of Epsom landed Birkdale,
to seek sweet raptures in my limerence
by she possessed of its Unholy Grail.
O’ what forbidden enchantment was she
when the spinning bottle of fortune spun,
and what soft lingering kiss given me
when the party kissing contest we won.
Every once in a while the stars and fates
shine upon the archer and his longbow,
and the wondered youthful heart elates
at its piercing tip and flight of arrow.
Over the toll bridge a young lord and prince
from the realm of Epsom landed Birkdale,
to seek sweet raptures in my limerence
by she possessed of its Unholy Grail.
Written: April 1994
Oh, you can’t have sex after seventy
Your children just wouldn’t approve
And if your neighbours found out
You’d probably have to move
No, you can’t have sex after seventy
You’ve got to be young and fit
And every succeding generation
All seem think they invented it.
You just can’t have sex after seventy
Though it’s not quite against the law
You should be watching the tele
Or maybe doing the odd jigsaw
No, you can’t have sex after seventy
If you get such an unnatural urge
Drink some hot Epsom Salts
And give your bowels a purge.
You just can’t make love after seventy
Just accept it with good grace
No you can’t have sex after seventy
And wipe that smirk off your face
Oh, you can’t have sex after seventy
Your children just wouldn’t approve
And if your neighbours found out
You’d probably have to move
No, you can’t have sex after seventy
You’ve got to be young and fit
And every succeding generation
All think they invented it.
You just can’t have sex after seventy
Though it’s not quite against the law
You should be watching the tele
Or doing the odd jigsaw
No, you can’t have sex after seventy
If you get such an unnatural urge
Drink some hot Epsom Salts
And give your bowels a purge.
You just can’t make love after seventy
Just accept it with good grace
No you can’t have sex after seventy
And wipe that smirk off your face
She's thirty-three, single,
her Mom babysits her
five year old son.
She reassures herself it's
just two more hours,
then it's the blessed weekend.
Which means delicious sleep.
She has no nest egg,
she's just getting by.
There is one kind aging matron
who makes her lunch when she
cleans her large stately home.
Yet, other well-to-do homeowners
cast their false superiority heavy
in the air as she imagines wiping
off their smug faces with Pledge.
She hums to a catchy pop tune
while scrubbing toilets and
spraying down whirlpool bathtubs
as her muscles ache,
wishing she could soak in one.
Maid for the ungrateful,
she smiles remembering her
First Holy Communion,
her snow-white lacy veil,
with her rosary of pearlescent
ivory beads.
Then, a memory of
teenage politics of high school
with random daydreams like
impromptu snapshots.
Her lips and throat dry from
those wretched aerosol sprays,
always forgetting her face mask.
A few sips of tepid Gatorade,
as she softly prays her son will
excel in school.
Her learning disabilities held
her back despite her gift of
intelligence.
This day's cleaning was at the
home of a lawyer's snooty wife,
who was lunching with friends
after klutzy attempts at tennis
at the country club.
Maid for the ungrateful,
can hardly wait to get home
to soak her worn feet with
warm water and Epsom salt
in a porcelain basin. ~
With a body made of paper, he went outside to feel the drops of rain.
Leaving behind an aluminum roof, cardboard siding.
He extended his arm feeling the calmness of her splash. Exploding into a million more drops.
It began to rain harder. With her granting his very wish.
He stood there for a moment. Rain drenching him with an excitement he'd never before felt.
He fell to the ground in a puddle of her longing.
She pressed her face against his neck and cried.
His blue and red lines began to melt. Trailing down into the puddle.
He weighed himself in her depth, feeling the ripple of her hand lap against his face.
He suffocated in that moment.
Unfolding himself against her curve,
Loosing form of his body. His tongue in tune with hers.
Epsom salt to the ache of sore muscles.
This was the effect she had on him.
The first time him facing an outer body experience.
Floating about until they both evaporated.
With him holding every drop of her, until there was nothing left
Baptized within each others temple
Heads folded down. Enveloping each other