POEM: Arting Loudly

arting loudly

I can’t believe it
It can’t be true
That such a thing
Came out of you
A pallet of colour
Not to my taste
Shot out of your bottom
All over the place
A parp of Van Gogh
A dash of O’Keefe
Made me needing
A bit of relief
A Michelangelo scent
Descends down the stairs
A litter of drawings
Fly through the air
A raucous Picasso
Looks a bit out of place
Shooting through the room
To mess up my face
A fragrance of beans
Floats through the hall
Should have stuck to soup
Like Andy Warhol.


POEM: I have a secret

I have a secret
that needs to be shared
so every other small child
from this evil may be spared.
After eating brussels and beans
and other dreadful stuff like cabbage,
which is just obscene,
parents bellys rumble
and gurgle like a stew
as dangerous fumes tumble.
It’s time to run! Time to hide!
Terrible smells shoots
from bum to outside!