Bad Boy.

 

Bad Boy

http://gigisrantsandraves.wordpress.com/2013/07/17/bad-boy/comment-page-1/#comment-2655     Link to picture.

I had another poem in line for this week but it was way too dark, even for me. So I thought I might continue on with the chicken theme, I thank Rethinking Life for inspiring me with her wonderful artwork. Hope you enjoy this one.

BAD BOY

Bad Boy rolled onto the rink,

he was a real little tough.

The Bantams in the cheer squad

gave their feathers a mighty fluff.

He rolled around, all nonchalant

some reckoned a little cocky.

The he spied the Andalusian hen

the Bantams knew as Rockie.

Coming to a rolling stop,

he turned and preened and crowed.

Rockie turned her head away

and she remained unbowed.

Come on my sweet, he cackled

sticking out a feathery wing,

we’ll zoom around and show these fowl,

who’s the master of the ring.

She spied his shiny Raybans

and leather jacket cool

and thought, I’ll have a little fun,

with this over feathered fool.

They rolled out to the centre

where they preened and pranced and crowed,

and began their feathered, fancy dance,

the Bantams were overawed.

Rockie twirled and twisted,

leapt up in a looping prance

her movements, were poetic,

the audience were in a trance.

Bad Boy spied the Rhode Island Reds,

he heard their crowing snickers,

he took another look at Rockie,

she was showing her speckled knickers.

Angry now he crowed at her,

with venom bile and spite,

you only want to lead me on,

to get me in a fight.

I might be a little Bantam

some say I’m awfully tough.

Then his squawking, crowing epitaphs

became caught below his ruff.

They found Bad Boy in a dumpster,

he’d been there overnight.

The chicken paramedic said,

He’s not a pretty sight.

And added as an afterthought,

as he pecked the driver’s head,

The Rhode Island Reds are getting soft,

Bad Boy should be dead.

A year has passed and Bad Boy,

well he’s a little slow.

Rhode Island Reds and skating,

are a definite no, no.

Instead you’ll find him on his perch

a sitting in the coop,

where he dreams of an Andalusian hen,

doing a fancy loop de loop.

Laurie Smith. copyright 2013.

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14 thoughts on “Bad Boy.

    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Ah, you’ve found my chicken poems, there’re a few there. Hubert the gravity defying chicken, glitter girl. I found myself in touch with my inner chicken. -)

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      Reply
  1. patgarcia

    Hi,
    This poem reminds me of the song Bad boy Leroy Brown recorded by josh Turner.
    Your poetry is developing nicely into another avenue for your writing. Proud of you, Bro. Keep up the good work.

    Ciao,
    Patti

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    Reply
    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Hi Susan, oh boy don’t we have a few things in common, other than good looks. From England, interests in the supernatural, spirituality, etc. I’m looking forward to a great blogging experience here, in Queensland.

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      Reply
  2. Raani York

    Excellent!! Your poems were always good – but then they get better and better! I wonder how you do that!!

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    Reply
    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thank You!! I must be emerging, lol. How do I do it? With the chickens I let my imagination run riot, hang on there’s always a riot going on in there. 🙂

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      Reply

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