Ok, well, you asked for it. Or at least rainbow, holly and crystal did. So blame them. It's their fault :o) I should make it clear that there is no way I'd regard what follows as poetry. More like the versification of cathartic musings. I've had many phone calls with social workers over the past few weeks and my recent with dealings haven't led me to develop any warm fuzzy feelings for them. For now though, they're out of our lives. Long may it remain that way. Just thought I'd share the following. And don't worry, I'm fully aware how technically dreadful it is, but I'm particularly fond of the final rhyme so I don't care!
'Good morning Mrs Housewife
I'm ringing you to say
Your daughter says she hates you
And wants to screw your day.
She's telling lots of stories
We wonder if they're true?
She keeps on running off as well,
Whatever can we do?
For now we'll fill some forms out,
We'll make out it's your fault.
We'll tighten up security
And go and buy some bolts.
We'll deal in cloak and dagger,
lies and deceptions too.
We'll only use evasions
while claiming all is true.
For now though, Mrs Housewife,
don't speak of this phonecall
No one will believe you
Because you know fuck all.'
Monday, 4 February 2008
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10 comments:
well i'll go on record to say not enough poems have the word "fuck" in them. i'd read more poetry if they did...
I totally agree with Holly - good poem..tells alot!
Jesus. You're really having a hell of a time of it, aren't you?
I am new to your blog, but I have read some of your older posts and I have a little bit of an idea of what is going on, so I know of your frustrations.
A better poem couldn't have been written and I am glad you did. You hang in there and don't let the bastards get you down!
Excuse my language.
Nice poem Belle. Better out than in, as they say.
Oooh - can't beat a nice piece of venom sometimes - much tastier than venison anyday, which is highly overrated!
You keep this one Belle - it's a goer!
It's fab. You are fab. I have a little award thing for you over at my place (well I will when I've finished this post.)
I have a friend who had the worst time with Social Workers a few years back, even though it was all sorted out and seen to be a fault on their part. It's scary the power to do harm that some people have. Hugs.
And it's definitley a poem. I love it. Tres fiesty and witty and grrrrrrr.
holly - you need to read Philip Larkin
aims - you should see the stuff I left out ...
rc - it's been a blast ;o)
sweet irene - nice to meet you :o)
sm - taking a leaf out of your book and loving it!
cailleach - cheers m'darling, but I think the proper stuff should be left to you.
jo - why thankyou!
Brilliant! Straight to the point.
Crystal xx
this is wonderfully cathartic -- by the end, I was dropping f-bombs with you
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