Short Wheelie Poems

I have a sibling somewhere in Dublin
When I miss her I jump in a wheelie bin
And pen her a limerick
Just to make her smirk 
If she don't like my head will spin...

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Silverado truck and F-one fifty Ford
Went on a date but both got extremely bored
Chevy made a wheelie and Ford promptly booked
Date didn’t last as long as the dinner we cooked....

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THE INTERFERING OLD BAT

Sometimes; I wish I could just chuck my neighbour in the wheelie bin
But; No, my inner conscious says, laughable as it is, it would be a sin

Indiana Shaw . . .   

"O' Lord, just how I wish I didn't have a conscious". . . : /...

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I BINNED THE OLD BAT
"I've just had a quick whiff of the wheelie bin, it smells malodorous" 
Indiana Shaw . . . *o*

"My inner conscious at first said "No", but; then it changed its mind" . . . ; )...

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Death 

death gives no fear
cos winters here
his bony hand is thin
he'll need his coat
but will he float
when i step on his neck so thin

when he comes back 
his bones i'll crack
and check him out for sin
and bruise him blue n black
and leave him in the wheelie (bin)

perhaps

Don Johnson 19-may-11...

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troubles are a state of mind,
 the tree wont bark if you unwind,
leave em on a leafy branch, 
ask the lord to them recant,
till less of them you find...Don

I spoke to an old guy on his motor wheelie today...
he said he was going to the uniting church for xmas...
to join the lonely and the looney...

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I'll race you to the corner
   Watch me do a wheelie
Want some ABC gum*
   Mary is a fraidy-cat...

As we age, inevitably badly
   and enter our final phases
The cruel lash of time
   contorts these treasured phrases

I'll race you to the coroner
   Watch me in my wheelchair
Want some more oxycontin
   Mary is a vegetable...

Hate to be so grim
   but when the fix is in
All we've left is words to say
   'til dementia takes those away



*ABC = already been chewed...

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Trees were bending, gates a-banging, leaves were airborne too

Howling like a banshee, autumn reigns anew.

Around the parks broken boughs lay like severed limbs,

While out on empty windswept streets, hurtled wheelie bins. 

And so it is, seasons change, in turn they take the floor

A flourish of autumnal hues, before winter knocks the door.










Entry for
LATE SEPTEMBER 2018 STANDARD,ANY FORM ,ANY THEME,
UP TO A MAX OF 20 LINES Poetry Contest
21/9/18. Placed 1st....

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