Boy meets girl. Using Maya Angelou
We’re crushes, we’re candy, we’re muscle for hire.
The ripple of pecs, six pack of desire.
Our suntans and biceps, our white-glinting grins.
we star in your dreams full of lascivious sins.

Bug-killing, hole-digging beer-swilling fun
the rubbers of cream to protect you from sun.
The flash of smiles in the dark of the bar,
the press of our hips, the brush against bra.

As much as you hate us, in truth it’s a game
you flicker with passion when we say your name
and fingertips stretch on a sunset beach
to lock intertwined so each caress each.

For the faults and the failings we endlessly list
drop from our thoughts as our lips meet to kiss,
since the truth is, despite what we say to each other
the world would be wasted without you, my lover.

Your cromulent love embiggens me

I don’t know if I told you,
I love you loads,
large loads,
the sort that needs a sign
and a police escort on narrow roads,
train loads,
heavy duty container loads,
filled with hopes and dreams,
like a football field
full of fifteen amateur league teams,
more than an ant colony loves honey,
more than a greedy banker loves his money,
more than wasps love Coca Cola,
(and that’s a lot, especially in Summer),
oceans of love,
tons of love,
A rewritten plot where Bambi’s mum comes back from the dead love.
Like I said, I don’t know if I told you.

The text
To begin lift the receiver, insert
correct amount and dial the required number.
Insert more coins when indicated by the sound
of rapid beeps. To end the call, replace the
receiver. No change given.

The poem
Let us start this dance, this enrapment;
you shall speak and I shall listen and
together we will carry your words to nations.

Pull me towards you, close so I can feel the brush
of your cheek against my skin. Touch me with that
gentle caress, first here, first there, by a
prearrangement that leads me to connect at one
with the peoples of the world so I may let
your wisdom drift amongst the ether.

When I cry, softly and urgently for more you
must feed me as I demand, for my love is
conditional and can be broken by inattention.

Yet I know, despite this, you can do away with
my passions in an instant if you choose. You
can cast my hand from your face and fling
it against me so my words are muted and I will
no longer hear the beauty of your sweet voice.

But I shall keep a part of you within me, the gold
and silver of your love..for ever.
Until the next time.

“You sleep here, our guest“, he ushered proud
with gestures through a darkened door
that hid the horrors of the pinky cloud
and unicorns with flowing hair upon their head
and for our slumber; the truly mocking,
garish, pink fairy princess bed.

Stiff-armed corpse I, gazing up
to spy the glowing fairy sky
and around our gifted passion parlour
a Barbie car and house given by
brother, father.

Taunt me princess with your wings
and your daytime glowing things;
stack your Barney DVDs, his singing
doesn’t frighten me (I grit and set
my teeth just so and resist the urge
to shriek and go).

Rattled handles resist the wrench
of fulsome promised fun-time
wench; so slipping from
the fairy princess bed I turn the
handle for her instead.

But in place of smiling perfumed
partner I look down low and
see the owner of the pinken palace
boudoir, come to rescue Barbie’s
car and as I follow the fairy princess
gaze I see she looks at me amazed
and points a shaky pinkie finger
thus and says, as only fairy princess
must,

“I…”

“…can see your winkie…“

Meepos thinks she smells lunch

Things I learnt:
* Goats eat everything they want to eat, especially the neighbour’s rose bushes.
* Goats don’t like standing on wet grass and much prefer standing on the roof of your car.
* Never let a goat burp in your face.

Here’s a poem about Meepos.

TV Goat
Oh Meepos dear, my lovely goat
with your black and white and shiny coat,

You sit on the chair and watch the telly
even though your breath is really smelly,

and as you walk about or skip or run
you drop a stream of currants from your bum

and if I leave you in the room alone
I think it’s safe coz you can’t use phones

but bills, and cheques and five pound notes
you think are tasty food for goats.

Your favourite show is Strictly Come Dancing
you bleat and kick and copy their prancing.

But weirder still, you like Anton Dubec
and can tell the difference between Ant and Dec.

You don’t have time to read the papers
you prefer the celebrity dancing capers.

Instead of reading about credit crunch
you eat the papers for your lunch.

You prefer your news shown on telly
and especially read by Lorraine Kelly.

Thank god I haven’t got Sky TV
or there’d never be TV left for me

because you’d Sky Plus all of BBC1
and have non-stop celebrity dancing fun,

and when I tried to find the remote
I’d turn and see a chewing goat

munching on crunchy remote-control plastic
watching them trip the light fantastic.

Girls from television,
girls he met at work,
the lass from the opticians
with that nearly-open shirt.

Bang bang bang,
it’s great surfing on the ‘net,
look at mucky pictures
“you derty felthy get”.

Sticky tacky keyboard,
an accidental shot,
crunchy paper hankies,
trust me, it isn’t snot.

The lovely ladies’ pictures
have no sense of style or fashion,
there are no barriers to
imaginary palmist passion.

No art of conversation,
no need to buy them drinks,
fine for all perversion,
at least that’s what he thinks.

He’s fapping and he’s slapping
to a passionate crescendo
too bad he never noticed
the face staring at the window.

I’m going to listen and try to
be good,
to be understanding,
to ride to your rescue
with my armour shining.

At ten, when you hear your mum and dad,
about 20 seconds before, you think
"aha, that’s mum and dad, that is"
then time ticks rapidly past and
you think "I’ve not heard them make
that noise before".

and then, as your ears peer against the wall
after 20 seconds more you think
"oh no, that’s my mum and dad, that is"
when your mind clicks frantically fast
and you go "I wish I’d heard something
else, like before"

Mum and dad didn’t go on too long
when I was ten, just little bits.
It was just a piddly fight
but I heard them just the same.