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Susan Barnes Poem
Here he comes, bringing up the rear
So proud to be one of the guys
Blowing me kisses drenched in beer
As he wolfs down several pies
One tortured attempt at a promising leer
Whilst he fumbles with his flies
He’s no idea that I’m sat here
Planning my goodbyes!
Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014
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Susan Barnes Poem
Stereotyped,
The lady-like wife
That unwritten law
Of domestic life . . .
I want to dust in the nude
And cook wearing leather
I want to be very crude
With one pink feather
I want to pant down the ‘phone
As you smile at your boss
I want to scream loud and moan
Bite, scratch, claw and toss
I want to know there’s still passion
For your lady-like wife
Not contentment but hot fire
In domestic life
You know I love you my darling
So much more than the cat
Just climb up on the wardrobe
We haven’t tried that!
Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014
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Susan Barnes Poem
Would Joan of Arc be a post office clerk
In the year of two thousand and four?
And Lady Godiver, if we could revive her
Would she mop the kitchen floor?
These heros of history, make my lifestyle a mystery
Such women we shouldn’t ignore
So well in my thirties, with hand cream and nappies
I went down on my knees, despite the dog’s fleas
For a Wonderbra, a fancy new car
And a job that would take me far
Now I’m totally weary, yet it seemed fine in theory
To split myself in two . . . as you do!
But I feel like a martyr, this lark’s a non-starter
And I blame Bodacea and Germaine Greer
For this deep-rooted need to have a career
Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014
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Susan Barnes Poem
We sit here over afternoon tea
Your lecture starts, all about me
There’s no thought in your words
As you stuff in more cake
Your advice is absurd
And concern so fake
With cream on your chin
You pry, rake and grin
I watch your harsh tongue linger
As you lick your sticky finger
Now the cake has all gone, your job here is done
I sit bloated with lies, numb and dumb
You smooth your skirt over fat sweaty thighs
And we rise to say our goodbyes
As you disappear with your self-righteous view
Set to interfere in pastures new
I wonder dear friend, what would I do
Without you?
Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014
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Susan Barnes Poem
The doorbell rings
“They’re early!” I shriek
As they enter the house
I’m starting to freak
A man in the wardrobe
His clothes in the hall
I’m starting to doubt
I’ll get away with it all
My lifestyle’s not suited
To family visits
My brass neck is shrinking
I can’t fool these twits
I’ve too many secrets
My head hangs in shame
I’m searching for someone
To take the blame
My artistic licence
Has just expired
So I call for the ‘butler’
And tell him he’s fired
Yes the visit was tense
But my parents admired
How I kept the pretence
To which they aspired
Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014
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Susan Barnes Poem
God spare me from modern man
The type that ‘does what he can’
Have you seen how the flick ‘round a duster
All wrist action, bugger all muster
How I pray for the day
When they invent a spray
To keep them well away!
Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014
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