Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 13

THE SLY WARRIOR

Hasta la vista, bullies!

Do you sometimes feel like a cloud,

Vaporized by inconsiderate words,

Shocked into momentary inexistence?

 

Does your mind whirl,

Flailing like a crazed inmate,

IQ in freefall?

 

Vaporize, sweet pea,

And flail if you must.

Let your brain add flowers and pretty cushions to its dishevelled nest.

 

Then,

Once your world has recalibrated,

Your self-worth re-puffed its chest,

And your warrior’s whisper intensified to a roar,

Fling your aggressor into the bin

Wrapped in a sly, satisfying poem.

 

Ha!

BUY ME A COFFEE!

 

VOWELS AND PLUM PUDDING

Twinkling a gin and tonic,

His jowls deformed by decades of vowels,

Sir Edgar Broadwick regularly doused his guests

In endless, plum pudding-laced

Life lectures.

 

So, imagine the hoots of laughter

Echoing through stately homes

When, two years ago, in the springtime,

Both his cheekbones imploded

From the effort of holding his own against

The Duke of Marbles’ second cousin’s best friend,

A man whose legendary jowl control

Had already caused considerable cheek carnage

Among the upper crust.

 

Epilogue:

 

Despite several surgeries and the online services of a world-famous voice coach operating out of Bondi Beach, Edgar never recovered the posh vowels of his youth, and eventually emigrated to Australia where he met the heiress to one of the biggest cattle ranches in Queensland and married her. He takes pride in the fact that his sliding jaw matches his sliding stops. Yeeha!

 

Now that’s better, isn’t it!

 My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, will be available at the end of April. Stay tuned!

If you enjoy my sense of humour you will surely enjoy my romantic comedy, JUST LIKE A MOVIE, available on all the Amazons.

ARRIVALS

I know a place where love lingers

Long after everyone is gone.

Stand among people gathered there

And immerse yourself in essence of love.

 

Oh, this place doesn’t always smell delightful!

Not everyone has the time

Or the courtesy to shower prior to scurrying in.

You may suffer a woosh of armpit juice

Mingling among that wonderful fug of love.

 

But rise above!

Find the wonder, weave among the crowd.

Cosy into the comfort of someone’s laundry detergent,

Experience a twinkle of Miss Dior, a swoon of Shalimar

Or a rush of Aromatics Elixir.

 

Then stand back,

Enjoy the invertebrate wriggling of impatient children,

The waggling of accepting dogs.

Listen to the chatter, to the anticipation.

Tune into so many sounds of love!

 

You could find amusement in certain unfortunate sartorial choices,

Or ponder Piero Paccione line of business as he strides through the sliding doors in full suited swagger, dark eyes locking onto the sign featuring his name.

 

Then you might gasp unexpectedly,

Winded as an old flame caresses your mind,

A memory roused by the lingering kiss of a love-starved couple.

 

Shake it off!

Zoom out,

Back to bubble-light emotions as drunk-gaited toddlers

Fold into enchanted grandparents,

As adolescents awaiting friends gambol like puppies,

And golden-aged girlfriends slow-dance with giddy delight.

 

Yes, there is baggage there, lots of it, because such is life.

 

But how irresistible is that love-fug

Suspended in the arrivals lounge of an airport?

 

My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, will be available towards the end of April.

LIMPING BACK TOWARDS FUNKY TOWN

My funky has been in bed with my aching body for a while,

and they are not exactly making wonderful music together.

All I’m getting is a laborious, sleepy, quivering violin duet

That needs way more practice in the art of Lamentoso.

Lamentosamente, now one of them (guess who) has a black eye, too...

 

Allegro? Non troppo. Forse domani...

It’s nothing much, just a nasty mole that had to come off, but it was right next to my eye, right in the corner, and this morning it really hurt! I had to sit down afterwards and eat chocolate (yay!) and drink sugar water because I was very shaky for some time.

THE ANSWER IS NOT ALWAYS YOGA

The answer to all ailments is not yoga.

Nor is it magnesium.

Or bone broth.

Or the B’s.

It’s certainly not a kick in the butt.

Sometimes nobody knows.

Although, admittedly, I did write this in corpse pose…

MOON BOOTS

Locked in a vice of exhaustion,

My blood throbs,

My veins host insane bungie jumpers determined to escape gravity.

I stagger, a drunk astronaut in Moon Boots.

Bedtime, again.

POOR BERT: A FUNNY AND RUDE LIMERICK

 

Bert’s rumbunctious intestinal nightlife

Seriously hindered his quest for a nice wife.

Trumpets and trombones overwhelmed his cologne

Somewhat complicating his sex life.

 

LET THEM EAT CHOCOLATE BUNNIES

If all the Mega Bad Guys give up Badness

For Lent,

Maybe by the time Easter rolled around

And they wanted their Badness back,

We could have been sneaky enough to have confiscated

All their Evil Clusterfucks and vapourised them

Like dangerous luggage.

 

And then the Mega Bad Guys would all be lumbering around

On Easter Sunday,

Looking for trouble,

But they’d only find Chocolate Bunnies.

 

 

THE SECRET TO ETERNAL CONFIDENCE

You need this,Said the wizard, waving an assortment of makeup brushesAnd guiding meTowards a seat before a mirrorIn the beauty zone/danger zoneOf the pharmacy.Oh, I said, meekly,My obedience surging In a sudden weird need for beautification.So, I sat,Surrounded by elegantly packaged dreams,And the wizard flewBack and forth between meAnd a fancy Japanese makeup brandOn his magic makeup brushes,Returning each time to dab my face with Yet another Secret to Eternal Confidence.Voilà! he said, preening at himself in the mirror.So, I peered at myself,Wondering whether this might finally beTHE FOUNDATION,The one that takes a decade (or two?) off my many decades,And has the staying power ofMy parents’ marriage.Bonus points for fixing every single one of my problems.I shall keep you posted!

My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, will be out sometime in late April!

SLEEPLOGGED

I felt underwater. But it wasn’t turquoise water, sadly…

There are days when putting away breakfast,And taking a shower is an heroic act.(Washed your hair? Superhero!)Afterwards, even as you try to rally,Attempt to read a book, Or simply enjoy the gorgeous view on a gorgeous day,Your body just bleeds fatigue,Thoroughly sleeplogged.So you crawl back beneath the duvet.Today, I am having one of those days.