Daily Archives: October 9, 2016

Blame the weather

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Naughty breeze
floats through the window
infiltrates my facial orifices
flooding my brain with wicked designs

Today I may climb a tree
hoisting funny oversized underwear
to drop onto unsuspecting heads
Rip off my clothes and spin in the sun
Embarrass an innaccessible man
with insistantly flirtatious blab
having first chosen one far to young
to be either interested or interesting

I want to bother beggers in the street
ask them for change for a busfare or a cup of tea
Accost posh ladies out for a Sunday treat
offer to sell them a stolen watch or DVD
then open my coat to show a badly written phrase like

stop staring at my tits or
oh, so you like my boobs,

scribbled across my naked chest

l could fill a Tesco trolley with bottles of chablis
and when I get to the checkout, say

I forgot my purse
but I have enough pennies in my pocket for a pack of chewing gum

but drop my change, letting it roll under the paystation
precipitating a scrabble for coathangers and
resentful assistance from simmering assistants
who crouch at my feet, reaching in the dust
while I unwrap the tube, and chew insouciantly
muttering about innefficient service

I’d like to waltz down a busy road, halting traffic, causing chaos
enraging sleepy weekend travellers
wait for my audience to swell
then scream

somebody’s stolen my left-handed antimacassar
stopping the snowdrops from blooming this summer
and there’s a poodle in my shoe

just to see how a crowd reacts when I appear to be mad

Shall I pretend to be pregnant
pee in a policeman’s hat
and then run away, yelling hehe, I’m not really

No, these adventures can wait for another day
when I’m a little greyer and the sight of me
makes people think of purple
so they half expect me to be insane

I’m a little tired and it looks like rain
not the kind of weather for playing in the streets
so I hope you don’t mind if I go to sleep

©Jane Paterson Basil

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Hairy legs

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comely green eyes gazed into mine
reavealing his deepest desires
eyes that could hold entire conversations
even while the lips dripped drivel

I read the language of those eyes
the plea
please love me, they cried

the promises
I’d scatter flowers for you, build towering castles in your name,
it would be a passionate game of love that only two can play
me and you, side by side, day by day…
we could be a team, I’d buy you icecream, life would be a dream…

you get the scene

and the questions
wouldn’t I like the company, a helpmate, soulmate, best mate,
a man to to rely on, a shoulder to cry on
a warm companion in my bed
why won’t I try
to be half of a duo instead

I smiled at the cliched phrases written in his eyes

I’ll tell you why, I said
I’m not inclined to shave my legs

©Jane Paterson Basil

Hidden behind your face

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writer beware
those conscientious efforts
to smooth the rough surface of your psyche
may fail

the mind is a subversive muscle
given the break
it will envelope your words
stain them dirty shades of grey
place creased and faded images of
abandoned arachnid dinners
rotting in aged cobwebs
on each fresh page
and in a pitch set perfectly for diligent readers
it will scream those secrets
hidden behind your face

so writer beware
be careful what you say
the mind may do all of these things
but maybe
that is your deepest wish

The Daily Post #Careful

©Jane Paterson Basil