Chiffon Knickers

I own just one pair
Of sexy knickers.
I wear them under
A clinging dress,
To avoid the rolling of fat
Over elastic waist bands,
Because they rest on my flesh,
And don't dig in.

But I also know
All day, that they are there,
And await their discovery
By the ambulance men,
After the bus accident of legend,
Our mothers always warned us about.

3 March 2008

I forgot to say earlier, that this was one I wrote"on the spot" during one of my creative writing workshops with Paula. We chose the theme of clothes. Not my usual style at all! I'm still debating whether I shld have "skin" at the end of the 7th line. It rhymes with the "in" in the next line, but "flesh" assonnates (is that the verb?!) with "rest". Strangely, Paula's poem was much more in my usual style!

Victor/Conqueror/Might is Right [work in progress]

The roof is decorated/fringed
With pigeons - evenly spaced like gargoyles
On a Gothic cathedral.

The white pigeon
Works his way [sidles/shuffles] along the ridge pole,
Forcing/skittling his grey companions [out of his way]
Onto the lower slopes/tiles,
Until he is at the far end,
Alone.


2 March 2008

This obviously still needs a lot of work, but I thought it might be interesting for people (if anyone reads this!) to see how I work... I did consider "Apartheid" as a title, but thought it was too unsubtle?

Corrida

The pigeon flock takes flight:
The snapping swirl
Of the toreador's cloak,
In a grainy, black-and-white,
Spanish documentary.

1 March 2008


Yet another of my pigeon poems! When will this obsession end?! Don't really like the title, but am yet to think of a better one.