I remember being a new-born lamb          
kicking my heels high, high, with joyful bleats,          
bah, bahing, at tuts and frowns from my dam          
needing me to hide mid the bleating sheep.          
        
But I sought answers, chewed the hows and whys,          
among the grass-nibbling, nose-down, docile flock          
my eyes searched for fields higher in the sky          
where grass must be greener but, just got mocked...          
        
Time passed and winds blew a sense of unease          
old ones seemed to roam off, new ones were born,          
but I knew my ma's love would never cease          
I turn to her for comfort but, she's gone.        
        
Ma! Ma! I had a Ma!  I bleat,  I did!          
Nose down, I search cropped grass for where she's hid...

God spilled the glow of magic dust He'd got
it swirled round and round and got up his nose,
He, Achooed it all up Eve's Honeypot!

So fellas now you know on your last shot
when you wonder why your thingy don't grow
God spilled the glow of magic dust He'd got...

Although it kinda puts you on the spot
there's this secret not many of you know
He Achooed it all up Eve's Honeypot!

Yeah, yeah, it's tiresome when you get hot
and nothing's happening just down below
God spilled the glow of magic dust He'd got,

And you're gonna get nought but diddly squat
so I guess you've just gotta go with God's flow,
He Achooed it all up Eve's Honeypot!

So, where's Adam in this, him? I forgot,
Perhaps he's looking hard as he seeks Eve's glow
God spilled that glow of magic dust He'd got
And Achooed it all up Eve's Honeypot...


A villanelle.

Some rely on cleaning machines  
the vacuum to **** up the dust,  
and one to scrub floors gleaming clean  
replacing same when those get bust.  
A hammer, these, to crack that nut  
as I think of the leccy price  
you can hear me go tut tut tut
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

No smart sweat-top, nor cut off jeans  
but **** nekked I swing my ****,  
to make dust motes fly in sun beams  
my mind flies with these, as it must...  
momentarily, till I'm pushed  
by brush in hand and in a trice  
I'm back to Earth to strut my stuff  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

A cloth, Acdo, a mop some bleach  
my **** high nose down as I scrub,  
recalling grandma's quick brief screach  
quickly cured by her back-hand rub.  
The bleach does it to me, I blub,  
at memories that sting enticed,  
as I rinse out my cloth in the tub,  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

Not for me the machine's hub-hub  
If offered I say " ain't my vice "  
I'll keep my Aladdin's lamp to rub  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.

The big-bang blew out this universe  
from bubblegum blown by some deity,  
huge non-existent lips were pursed  
then blew and blew with some great glee 
then quarks and electrons came to be  
from its spittle as the bubble grew  
but the thing which is chewing on me  
what did Newton's Third Law get to do?  
  
Coz, I've heard there's no front nor obverse,  
or insides to a singularity,  
nothing for the Third to push in reverse    
no equal and opposite reaction, see?  
But still something blows and with glee  
thick as a Plank I haven't a clue,  
my head aches now, that's reality,  
out of nothing a universe spewed?  
  
When I was a kid,  mother got terse  
and berated me if I chewed chewy,    
she'd not shout nor stamp and not curse  
just say " mucky stuff, waste o' money."  
But she got a laugh thought it funny    
when inevitably my bubble blew,  
and left my face gummed and clarty  
but if this bubble bursts, I guess we're *******...

" On the ground! " was screamed at the man in flames  
the police were baffled at what could be done,
" get down on the ground !" was screamed yet again  

Their guns pointing as the man writhed in pain
why should they care it's not their Bro' or son
" on the ground! " was screamed at the man in flames,

I guess the policemen felt kinda lame
a burning man is no threat to anyone,  
" but, down on the ground! " was screamed yet again

Burning tendons stretched his hands up in vain
there was no way the burning man could run
" down on the ground " screamed at the man in flames,

Hands holding guns began to show the strain
as burning fats flared to outshine the sun
but, " down on the ground " was screamed yet again

Later their bosses played the old blame game
But the police were lost totally stunned,
" On the ground " was screamed at the man in flames
And " down on the ground " was screamed yet again.

He carries round his window cleaning gear
whistling some well known bohemian air,
wears gold earrings, (street cred' is now so dear)
and runs up his ladders like bedroom stairs.

Tanned and sleek, full of self-confident wealth,
he growls, '' you're next !"  (in hope to hear a purr?)
rippling muscles, bouncing around with health,
with a chest full of lush, gorilla, fur...

He cleans windows like an athletic cat
stalks those streets, an animal on the hunt,
but I know the repertoire, all the chat,
and the ****** way he says '' back'n front ? ''

'' Shall I do your inside's, there's not a spot missed? ''
As I'm paying him I think, '' Yeah... as if! ''

Though the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed      
it made its nest among sharp cacti plants    
then caws out oomegoolies very loud,    
    
On return to his nest ***** and proud,    
to bill and coo to find then squeak, " I can't "    
tho' the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed...    
    
So he lived, celibate, not on a  cloud    
no Ma to confide, no sis, Pa, or aunt      
tho' he cawed out oomegoolies very loud,    
    
And no mate to mate that he could've wowed    
his world lacked even a sniff of talent      
tho' the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed,    
    
That's why you'll not see these flock like a crowd    
and twitchers sightings are now somewhat scant    
tho' he cawed oomegoolies very loud,    
    
Wrap him stiff, at last, in his spiky shroud    
There was no hope for this would be gallant,    
Tho' he cawed oomegoolies very loud    
The Oomegoolie bird was well endowed.