Tiny Shorts

Lady in tiny shorts
You look out of sorts
At this family fun park
Full of rope swings and chipped bark

You pose to show off your physique...
From painted toe
To buttock cheek

There is no doubt that you look buff
But surely if you wore enough
Cloth to cover up your bum
Your children could play with their mum


But instead you give them to the nanny
Who can race the kids without showing her fanny

Push

"Push through your bottom" the midwife said
As I lay panting on the bed
"Push, push, push! I can feel the head!"
"SO CAN I!" was my reply...


"Now push, now wait....
no more pushing until you completely dilate."


"Now push, then pant in measured spurts
And I know Mrs Kent your vagina hurts
You should listen to me, I am wiser and older
Must you bite your husband on the shoulder?"

"Push, push, push, just one more try!"
There was a rip, and a slip, and a baby's cry
A girl, a daughter!
A hug, and then
"I am never doing that again."

Stinging Nettles

Nature: out to get you

Overgrown stinging nettles
You have no fragrant smell or petals
All you are is bouquet of pins
Pricking my ankles and hurting my shins

The reddened bumps begin to rise...
And then you sting me on my thighs
How is it that you have mastered
Getting through clothes? You spiteful bastard!

I'll have to change my running loop
Or turn you into nettle soup

Children Stop Fighting!

Children - please stop fighting each other!
Daughter - you should love your brother
Son - stop winding up your sis
There really is no need for this!

Must you sing the Clas Olsen ad...
Until it drives her completely mad?
You tumble, tussle, yell and shriek
And we've only just begun the week!

If this goes on, we won't survive
The summer hols, which is why I've
Booked Holiday Club for you again
You can have fun, and I can stay sane ;)



Like this?  You can find more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/abrighterwriter 

National Trust

If this summer holiday
You feel it is a must
To pack your kids into the car
And visit a National Trust

I'm duty-bound to warn you
It won't be like the ads
Full of Boden Mummies
And earnest, smiling dads

You won't glide around the gardens

I'm smiling because I'm hiding from my children...
at Basildon Park NT

In a state of familial bliss
Your children won't marvel at nature
What will actually happen is this:

One of them will say "boooring"
And "I can see that statue's bum!"
And "This place smells of dog farts"
You will pretend not to be their mum

It will probably rain on your picnic
And your child will lose a shoe
Then get a splinter in their finger
Then announce "I NEED A POO!"

They'll probably drop their ice cream
Then try to eat it off the floor
Or leave a sticky handprint
On an antique painted door

And the kindly National Trust staff
Will never, ever shout
But you know that they are thinking
"Get those bloody children out"

You'll shout out "Put that cup down!"
And "don't sit on the chairs!"
"The piano is NOT FOR TOUCHING!"
And "no running on the stairs!"

All you wanted was a day out...
And all you did was moan
The trick to visiting the National Trust
Is to go on your own

Shirtless Man

Image credit: here 

Shirtless man
I know it's hot
But I cannot
Share your belief that it is best
In summer to reveal your chest...

I have to ask would it really hurt
When you're on the street to wear a shirt?
Your brazen display of hair and nips
Is enough to put me off my chips!

Fights with Tights

Now *that's* a ladder!

Tights that are too small
According to the packet I'm not too tall
According to the packet I'm not too wide
But the tights that have been stuffed inside...

Do not fit me, in the way they should
They're from John Lewis - they ought to be good!
With every move, the waistband slips
Eventually stopping just on my hips

The gusset now sits by my knees
Who the hell is designing these?!
I attempt again, heel and toe
To coax them up my leg but no

They're somehow twisted, the fit is not right
You bloody cursed, stupid tight!
I hoik them up as I lose my rag
Then ladder the front, and they start to sag

They're supposed to be "10 denier - nude"
But in actual fact my 'look' is screwed
I'll have to go bare legged today
And hope I don't scare children away

So if by some chance we should meet
When I am walking down the street
And I blind you with my lily-whites
Please don't blame me - please blame the tights

Radio Ga-Ga - Why the BBC Matters to Me

I have always loved the radio, from the thrill of taping the Chart Show using the 'play' and 'record' buttons on my old Steepletone radio / cassette recorder, to the joy of appearing on Zoe Ball's Breakfast Show in the '90s and winning - yes winning - tickets to an England vs Cameroon friendly at Wembley thanks to my bizarrely detailed knowledge of Stavros and Mrs Merton.

Photo courtesy of clearanceaisleltd
- yes you can still buy these!

Imagine my delight then when a man appeared at my door a couple of weeks ago asking if I wouldn't mind taking part in a radio survey.  It turned out he worked for RAJAR (the radio version of gaydar?) who were conducting a survey on listener habits.  I wondered if it was at all linked to the recent announcement that Apple is 're-inventing radio' and the push to change the BBC and signed myself up.

Ritual de lo Habitual

What I discovered is that I'm a creature of habit when it comes to 'tuning in' and also a massive fan of the BBC.  Radio 2 is the first thing that goes on for its family-friendly start to the day and tunes that remind us that the music we once believed to be 'cool' is  now considered retro... 

Once the kids are packed off to school it's over to 6 Music for a dose of hip-hop, indie and rock that makes me wistful, joyful and causes me to either leap, rock-out or do the running man in the kitchen - I mean, what else were kitchen floors made for?  

Four play

If I'm in the car, then I'll probably tune in to Radio 4.  Oh Radio 4 how I love thee..... I initially started listening when I worked at Microsoft as a means of genning up on business news courtesy of the Today Programme and James "Knock-er-tee" Naughtie - why won't he pronounce his name as it is spelled?  Imagine how much more fun his life could become!  After a while the incessant baiting of, and arguing with, politicians became too much but I have stayed loyal to the channel, thrilled at the ability to hear the most incredible feats of human endeavour and some of the most thought-provoking stories thanks to Prof Jim Al-Khalili's Life Scientific and Jenni Murray and the Woman's Hour team.  

Radio 4 has taken me into the cab of one of the very few female driving instructors in India, introduced me to the awesome Prof Kate Jones (leading bat scientist and funniest guest I have heard), helped me understand (a bit) financial markets, and most recently, made me cry at the moving conversations captured between ordinary people by the Listening Project.  

Perfect Peace and a children's mosh pit

When I really need to concentrate, Radio 3 goes on - no lyrics to invade my work, just interesting music that lulls and stimulates my brain.  I was inspired to give it a try after visiting my childhood next door neighbour's house - we were a bloody noisy family to live next door to; too many children spread across too great an age range in too small a space.  As I stepped inside with my then newborn daughter I couldn't believe the tranquility.  In Yvonne's kitchen was a crossword on the table and classical music coming from the radio.  It was amazing - I'd always envisaged soundproofed walls to keep out our din but no, here was a light filled space of calm just a wall away from the equivalent of a children's mosh pit.  Classical music is magic.

Trumpets and tonguing

But what of Radio 1?  I left there long ago, turned off by Chris Moyles and music that I found too kiddie-pop for my indie tastes.  But then I happened to tune in randomly to Scott Mills one day and discovered Innuendo Bingo.  It was featuring a clip from a Radio 4 programme about trumpet playing - with a particularly emphasis on the optimal tonguing and fingering technique - I spat water across the dashboard as his studio guests spat water over one another.  Puerile?  Yes.  Funny?  Absolutely!  I have been back more than once since and the Greg James "Going Home Song" is now a family staple.

The BBC has something for every aspect of who I am: curious, serious, focused, passionate about music and every now and again (ok, very often), downright childish.  And as a parent I love the fact that not only are their stations advert-free, but when it snows, I can share the joy with my children that is tuning in to your local station to find out if the school is closed - oh the suspense as Andrew Peach from Radio Berks reels off the list of schools and oh the shrieks of joy as ours is called out!  Whatever happens with funding, I sincerely hope that BBC Radio continues in all of its current brilliance - life would be much poorer without it.

  

My radio love affair - in true Craig David style we did it all day Wednesday!