So what’s your excuse for a blind date?
My boyfriend cheated on me, what’s yours?
Caught my mum in bed with my girlfriend.
Did you say anything?
No, she was on top, so I didn’t want to do anything
Did you tell your Dad
No, my Dad's girlfriend killed him when she found out he was married.
Wow, you don’t have a sister, do you?
I do, but she’s not allowed within ten miles of the house.
Is she a psycho or what?
No, she smashed a chair over Mum's head when she caught her in bed with her boyfriend.
What, your mum was on top again.
I suppose so, it’s not really a picture I want to see.
Do you have a photo of your mum?
Yes, that’s her there.
Wow, I don’t usually have lesbian tendencies, but I’d do your mum.
Yes, a lot of people want to do my mum, I don’t get it.
Can I meet her?
Why the hell would you want to meet her?
I don’t know, can I be your girlfriend?
Is this so you can meet my mum?
Of course not, can I go home with you now?
My god, what is wrong with you, woman?
Can I meet your sister, why don’t we get married?
We’ve only just met.
I know, but I already feel part of the family.
beneath the sands where time and shadows meet
there lies the tomb of one who cursed his breath
a pharaoh bound by pride his own defeat
entombed in gold and wrapped in linen death
his sightless gaze guards treasures in his depth
his name is lost but still his power stays
a ghostly force to haunt the desert’s haze
to those who seek his wealth with greedy hands
beware the curse that waits in shifting sands
no gems or gold will save you from his wrath
his vengeance lies in every winding path
the dunes will turn and bury where you stand
and whispers fill the air to mock your cries
as ancient winds ensure no soul survives
turn back now traveler leave his tomb behind
or feel the weight of centuries confined
this pharaoh guards his world with ruthless might
his curse will haunt you far beyond the night
the desert’s song will claim your heart and mind
a warning left to echo in the gloom
beware the curse that lingers in his tomb
Mummy says you don’t deserve living,
She says you are wicked,
She says you don’t anything good,
She has never said good about you,
She spits fire as far as you are concerned,
She you burden
She says the day she met you,
She wasted her life,
She spread doom on herself,
She says that after if all,
You ran away.
She says that she is trying to forget you,
But it is hard,
Because you introduced to the world of adults,
Don’t bother to say sorry,
Because mere seeing you makes her curse the day.
Please let her press her wounds,
Let her caress her wounds,
To heal,
Don’t add salt to her wounds,
Mummy Calls You Burden.
Hello mummy, how are you
I believe you’re here on earth
And of course, your life is new
And perhaps you gave a birth
To some other child, somewhere
In a better place than ours
I was bad, I lacked the care
About you, when after hours
You expected me to talk
But I had a will to hide
Used to go out for a walk
In the darkness of the night
At the 4 o’clock next morning
Usually I returned
I don’t know if you were yearning
Never cared what you have thought
Dear mummy, please excuse me
I remember your sweet voice
Hope your living now is easy
And this time you had a choice
Happy Mother’s day, my dear
You are always deep within
Sometimes I do miss you near
Much more often, than it’s been.
The nights are the worst.
so lonely.
wanting to hold you,
the pillow becomes your skin.
Arms wrapped around it,
face buried
in nonexistent raven hair
that is yours, but not yours.
arms clasped around
and folded into sheets
that in my hazy dream state
become our hands,
holding hands as we walk
in the park.
Wrapped in and around this
tear stained fabric
we kiss, and I cry
knowing you're only a ghost,
lips I created and neck I kiss made
as real as can be in your absence.
I no longer know where
you begin, and I end.
Every night
I recreate you,
wrap myself around you
tangled sheets
lost in UN-reciprocated desire
wrapped up in my longing
for you and only you
like a mummy, a lonely mummy.
Seeking immortality
A mummy on this plot
Death but a formality
My body withers not
Nestled in a hidden tomb
The last Egyptian king
Lying in a golden room
Beneath the falcon's wing
My fate is unmistakened
This curse on my demise
On judgement day awakened
Once more my soul to rise
A prophecy of the blind
Who foretold what's in store
Reigning terror on mankind
And death forever more
Hung on a brick wall the mummy looks spooky
its Halloween time and her timing is fluky
she prowls down the lane committing mutiny
hostile as a devil she breathes foul frumenty
Dried up like an old prune she flies like a goon
hovering over the kids that live in Saskatoon
with a menacing laugh she fills them with doom
as they run to hide they leave plenty of room
But oh how she knows where the children go
with their looby loo ways spilling candy intoe
she's been well preserved and is full of woe
angry as a witch who just stubbed her toe
Better close that door and lock it twice
she's mad as a hornet and not very nice
sucking on brains is her only device
this mummy from Sask, never knocks thrice.
Even a mummy has rights
and emotions. Great Britain
is changing the name of a
mummy to do away with
Mummy Discrimination.
Mummy History - HISTORY
Egyptian body
stored in a sarcophagus
no longer mummy
when they would change name
history books updated
to reflect movement
what we must mention
weapons with ammunition
much apprehension
what was intention
eloquent expedition
became tradition
could have conviction
when we elect eviction
can cause dissension
proper selection
get your shots for infection
stay in own section
we often lose track
was about an artifact
remaining intact
must socially distance
we will do in each instance
with much persistance
I want you to meet my mum
Oh no, not the mum
That means I could be the one
There goes the fun
Time for a ring
That couple thing
Need a plan
Insanity is in the man
Hun, I’m slightly gay
It’s always been that way
I try to hide it
But it just won't go away
I know babe
That’s what I love about you
You’re feminine too
Man, what have I done
Where do I run
Okay, plan two
Hun, think of the kids
What would they think
Daddy wearing a dress
Their little faces
Such a mess
Don’t worry babe
Take my hand
Let me introduce you
This is my mum
My god, what a body
So fit
Where’s that jeweller
Book the church
I’ll marry her mum
And then some
I’m in love
Babe, don’t get carried away
There's something I have to say
It’s about my mum
Hun, tell me all
Write it, ten feet on the wall
Watch me fall
Babe, my mum’s my dad
Aren't you glad
You being that way too
So understanding
It was like God sent you
Okay, I've kind of went numb
Something just registered
Call me dumb
But It seems to me
Or maybe I’m slow
Have I just joined a feckin freak show.
Sarcophagus lay in the ditch
the wagon had lost its hitch
dearest mummy was gone
breath renewed by Amon
she befell the wanderer’s itch
He had a sweetheart who
he tried so hard to be a daddy to,
while she just wanted to mother to Him.
If they had had children
God knows
who would have looked after them;
probably their own parents,
while they both fought on
to be the top sexually charged
****-toy.
Dear friends,
Please let me explain
I am normally gone
From the break of Spring
Until now...
Every year
I begin with a show
And in this year
As some might know
I began with a Bang!
Big orders on a scale
I have never seen...
And while my gratitude
Defies imagination
My solitude
Might lack an understanding...
And so a fun fact about me
Is that most might never see
Who I am...
I'm the right handed Jeweler
with a left handed Pen...
And I write
When I'm in sight of things...
So I'll be back
With a light type of 'hac'
To make creating with You...
Whole again.
There is never...
a bad wrap.
Can somebody, please, tell A Sugar Mummy
That her sweet young guy is not a dummy
Out of her The ‘Sugar’ what is left is ‘Mummy’
At last, her presenting as The Dummy?
Can’t someone urge My Sugar Mummy
To try a longer look at her tummy
For the still bold presence of The Gummy
That finally does return to her “A Granny”
Or, still not finer, ‘An Aging Nanny?
The Sure-To-Get A Nasty I Beg Your Pardon?
From a cheating lover she has told “Well Done”
And a much nastier and coarser I Beg Your Pardon,
After vengeful claims of not having a farthing.
Always, as at the last moment,
A hurting, even heart-bleeding comment
That does reveal her hidden rejection
By one already championing her projection!
Wrapped in bandages, I can hardly see.
But I know there's a world waiting for me.
I'm lucky to be alive; I know that as fact.
But for friends I've searched.
My mind, I've racked.
So I sit above my grave
listen to a dirge
and I wait
for a new life to emerge.
“mother”said jolly “can you comb my hair,”
“I will” Jolly “if you stand on that chair,”
“your golden tresses make nice pony tails,”
“red ribbons, if you please, to match my nails!”
1st placement
Written 12/March/2021
Eve Roper sponsored
Nursery rhyme 2
4 lines rhyme 10 syllables each line
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