MyPoetryFeet

DIVIDED

Here it’s called pudding

In Old Blighty blancmange, where a pie can be pudding too;

Though not all puddings are puddings per se

They all got lumped under one simple name;

Pudding—

That’s Dessert to You.

We too call it afters

One stop after starters

In a British three-course meal;

But most of us got just

Two courses at ‘ome

After one, what’s for puddin’? ensued.

We call our fries chips

While your Chips are our Crisps

It’s amazing we get on so well, isn’t it?

Zucchini to You, We call them Courgettes

Stuff always sounds better in French, doesn’t it?

But grow either too big, it’s a Marrow you’ll get.

Romaine or Cos?

Lettuce discuss,

Your Cotton Candy We call Candy Floss;

As for more puddin’ there’s Figgy, and Plum, ‘n’

Let’s not forget the Christmassy one; covered in Brandy and all set alight,

Along with what once was a sixpence inside

Before it all became decimalized.

Our jelly’s your Jello

Our jam is your jelly,

Regardless, too much will still sit on your belly;

Our Sweets be your Candy, Our Prawns be your Shrimps

But why is the Aubergine Eggplant, what gives?

Yes Divided, Shaw said,

By our common language.

Reign of Error

I’m willing to sit and knit

As Madame DeFarge once did

A seat in first row as the heads start to roll

Would appease my anger a bit

I care not who’s first on the block

In this line of government twats

But it’s hard to sleep tight when it’s tweeting at night

Swilling about in its’ slop

It constantly barks, it never shuts up

It rants and it raves for no reason

Bent on destroying whatever it can

On the vulnerable declared open season

But we can get this wreck off the road

And round up the rest of those toads

Then off with their heads, in the figurative sense

If everyone gets out and votes!

https://youtu.be/yBoaY

MUM

What dreams did You have that You put aside for me?

What promises made to yourself, You never got to see?

In the beginning of life I demanded, You gave

I had the benefit of Your wisdom

Of course I did not always listen

For this is how we are set up

To live and learn from mistakes we make

Triumphs accomplished, love forsaken

Yet still I falter, still I wade

Through life’s oft’ muddied waters

Teetered on the edge, I hold my breath and say to myself

What would Mum do?

Suddenly, I remember things you taught me

Words You gave in comfort

Tears You dried, wounds You healed

I'm up to your knees again, I feel picked up and held

I see You daily now, in my reflection

Your wisdom is forever with me

I love You Mum

Thank You for everything

Mum. England, 1942. Age 16.

YOU'LL ALWAYS BE

You’ll always be my baby

You’ll never understand

Even as you’re growing up

En-route to be a man

I love you so ferociously

A lioness you awakened

A strong and solid mothers’ love

Never to be shaken

You teach me so much every day

Of patience, understanding

I don’t always have it,

Nor do you, so we’re even!

You’ll always be my baby

That has never changed

Even in your teenage years

Alien, and strange…

But, when all is said and done

And you follow new horizons

You’ll always be my baby

The love on which I grew

To be a better person

For growing, knowing, loving, YOU

PERSPECTIVE

A cloud-ridden sky had my thoughts downturned

The tall trees bending in the wind

The rain would soon be heard.

You were unusually silent,

Pensive even for one so young;

While the tall trees bent and twisted, searching for the sun.

My perspective concrete, fallow; Yours?

Unbridled and not yet repressed You said

Look Mummy, the trees are dancing!

Such innocent wonder a child possesses;

It is at our peril

To ignore their message;

Keep looking up; there’s more to see

In tending child-like

Curiosity.

Elly LeBlanc 2005

THAT ONE

There’s always one isn’t there?

Everyone’s known or knows one

That One

That One who always pisses in

Or is the turd

In the punch bowl

So hard to endure That One

It sucks the air out of the room

That One

Changes the vibe

That One—everybody feels what’s going on

But no one says anything to That One

Am I “That One” to someone?

Maybe, have been, occasionally

I’m betting you have too

But there’s still That One

Who is That One all the time

It’s all they are

That One

Elly LeBlanc, May 5, 2020

WISHED

She wished she were the tree across the way

Or something more inanimate lying in the road

She wished like magic She could disappear

She wished She could be anywhere but here

Others always cool and full of grace

She just seemed to fall flat on her face

She felt so hopeless falling out of gear

She wished She could be anywhere but here

She never fit the schema in her head

There are days She’d rather never leave her bed

She tried so hard but all She felt was fear

She wished she could be anywhere but here.

#scrapsfromanoldnotebook

The Late Bloomin' Author

MY ANTHROPOLEGY a little tome in praise of pole dancing

Hello Luvs !

GRAVID

DIVIDED

AT THAT AGE

ALL I SAID WAS....

BRIEFLY

ONE

RISE

TIME

Reign of Error

BLOOMED

TRIED

MUM

YOU'LL ALWAYS BE

PERSPECTIVE

THAT ONE

WISHED