My Little Brother
Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2016 11:34 am
Chuffed with a Highly Commended in the 2016 Toolangi C. J. Dennis Written Poetry Competition with the below poem. Honoured to be in very esteemed company!
My little brother.
I have a little brother and I love him very much
His funny little dimples and his gorgeous curly hair,
but don’t know why he likes to play with slimy frogs and such
or why he likes to have such utter chaos everywhere!
He really likes the ooziness of slime beneath his feet,
the muddy, gooey slushiness that comes right after rain.
The squelchy, gloopy stickiness he thinks is really neat
the gunky, gluey tackiness of puddles ‘round the drain.
He’d rather eat spaghetti with his fingers from the bowl
and suck it up with grossly awful, vulgar, noisy slurps
He gobbles down his breakfast and he eats bananas whole
and thinks it’s very funny when on finishing, he burps!
He likes to feed the spiders near the shed with little bugs,
he likes their many googly eyes and creepy hairy legs.
He likes to build small fences for his herd of mites and slugs
and likes his socks to smell like stinky cheese and rotting eggs.
He squashes and he flattens and he mangles all his toys,
he crashes and he smashes and demolishes his bikes,
he breaks apart and rips to shreds much more than other boys –
a jumbled, tangled mess of broken bits is what he likes.
Most anything that wriggles or that slithers or that crawls
or hides in holes or under rocks or lurks between the bricks,
that jump on you from up above or little cracks in walls,
he’ll make a whole lot angrier by poking them with sticks!
He’d like to meet an ogre like the ones in fairy tales,
an ugly, bumpy, scary beast with sludge between his toes.
An awful, yukky, creature eating nothing else but snails,
a hundred rings of gold pierced through his pimply, pointy nose.
He wants to own a dragon with a flame in every breath,
a scaly, greenish monster that is always on the prowl
that creeps right up on passers-by to scare them half to death
by letting out a piercing shriek and most horrendous howl!
I don’t think there’s a messy thing he doesn’t like to do,
A hurricane could learn a lot from little bro’ at play!
I love him just the way he is but must confess to you
When asked, “Sis come and play with me?” I run the other way!
My little brother.
I have a little brother and I love him very much
His funny little dimples and his gorgeous curly hair,
but don’t know why he likes to play with slimy frogs and such
or why he likes to have such utter chaos everywhere!
He really likes the ooziness of slime beneath his feet,
the muddy, gooey slushiness that comes right after rain.
The squelchy, gloopy stickiness he thinks is really neat
the gunky, gluey tackiness of puddles ‘round the drain.
He’d rather eat spaghetti with his fingers from the bowl
and suck it up with grossly awful, vulgar, noisy slurps
He gobbles down his breakfast and he eats bananas whole
and thinks it’s very funny when on finishing, he burps!
He likes to feed the spiders near the shed with little bugs,
he likes their many googly eyes and creepy hairy legs.
He likes to build small fences for his herd of mites and slugs
and likes his socks to smell like stinky cheese and rotting eggs.
He squashes and he flattens and he mangles all his toys,
he crashes and he smashes and demolishes his bikes,
he breaks apart and rips to shreds much more than other boys –
a jumbled, tangled mess of broken bits is what he likes.
Most anything that wriggles or that slithers or that crawls
or hides in holes or under rocks or lurks between the bricks,
that jump on you from up above or little cracks in walls,
he’ll make a whole lot angrier by poking them with sticks!
He’d like to meet an ogre like the ones in fairy tales,
an ugly, bumpy, scary beast with sludge between his toes.
An awful, yukky, creature eating nothing else but snails,
a hundred rings of gold pierced through his pimply, pointy nose.
He wants to own a dragon with a flame in every breath,
a scaly, greenish monster that is always on the prowl
that creeps right up on passers-by to scare them half to death
by letting out a piercing shriek and most horrendous howl!
I don’t think there’s a messy thing he doesn’t like to do,
A hurricane could learn a lot from little bro’ at play!
I love him just the way he is but must confess to you
When asked, “Sis come and play with me?” I run the other way!
