Of Mice and Manes
Of Mice and Manes
The lioness looked anxious;
she still had her cub spots.
She was grooming herself
with a long pink tongue.
The older maned one, clearly aroused
in the long grass beside her.
Slyly, she evaded his desires
by padding in circles,
aided by the human interference
of our four-wheeled drive.
When he roared in frustration,
and stormed the game vehicle;
we all gasped in consternation:
Irresponsible guide! complained
one kaki-clad tourist,
visibly excited.
Why did she egg him on?
asked a pith-helmeted lady.
#InMice I mumbled
as we trundled on.
A Beast-a-Daring: Catch and Release
Flaked Fuselage
Flaked
You suffered from psoriasis
And tried so many fruitless remedies
No dairy, no meat, no fish, lots of greens
My pantry was choc-a-bloc
With the remnants
Of one trial effort:
Accusing rows of canned baked beans.
It only took one drunk driver
And death fulfilled your wish
I still recall lying on the beige broadloom
Of our small ‘guest room’
Remembering an afternoon’s rough play
Observing in silent horror
My face wet with tears
Little skin flakes in the weave
My throat still goes into lockdown
I yearn for this itch to also leave.
Inversed
A shoe-in
Fowl Play
A Guinea for my Thoughts
I did not renege
on my commitment;
I wrote a poem today.
However, it will only go
into the final confusion:
Some things are too dear.
Cheap-cheap; I fear.
3G, not 5G: Getting up to Speed
Gifts and Give-Aways
Origins (Daai Orige Sprong)
first, some potassium
Just like potassium
The poet
A sponge of mental pictures
(Not the princess of Picts?)
that chain-melts
into words
A plasma of all our senses
Leaking verse
in phrase changes
Depending on existential temperatures
and pressures
Sometimes degenerate
It matters not.
May the poeforce of phraseology
be with you
Secondly
Die springbok pronk
Hy lyk effe dronk
En ontlont ‘n bietjie
Stront
Askies vir die flou, faux tiek
Genetiese genies, geen lig-truuk
Maar darem slim genoeg
Om te kan spoeg
Okay, origins:
I come from nowhere
(behold, your DNA spit test says otherwise!)
I’m going nowhere
(maybe I’ll give this other cheek swab one a try’s)
Take your pick
(it’s kind of like astrology)
The bitter blue berries
(and now a thousand new relatives follow me!)
Make good gin
Or not; not without truth tonic
Don’t confuse your diary
With a dairy; your cans and cants
(Oh, captain, my captain
Wash your own underpants)
One is full of cheese
The other lack-toes intolerants
[Ma se kind
Punt innie wind
Is jou basies goedgesind?
Bobbejaan se kind
Die eintlike probleem
My boerneef, my vrind ]
h/t: Confirmed: New phase of matter is solid and liquid at the same time
tip of the mitten: Holy Schmoly
Cadmium Diamond Dreams 