Boob Tube?
If only brassieres were pneumatic,
uplift would be automatic.
Once more, we’d sport that perfect coning
without benefit of toning,
surgery or silicone.
Our ladies would just stand alone,
proudly there in front of us
with less strapping and less fuss.
When they invented inner tubes,
why did they neglect ones for boobs?
The prompt word today was automatic.
Where did they go? I think they headed south!
This poem was written during a Skype conversation with my longtime friend Marti, as I tried to describe my earlier post about my (ahem) breasts! I started penning it and then just had to continue. If you haven’t already, you should read the poem in the below URL first, then come back to this one!
https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/12/11/keeping-abreast/
Flopped Selfie
I did a selfie of my boobs—clad most decently.
The problem is I’m 68 and did it recently!
I only had two-dozen views—not many. Even worse,
only eleven “liked” them! Perhaps I should rehearse
the proper angle I should use, and maybe use a filter.
What’s more, I have just noticed that my right boob is off-kilter.
I’ve not the right equipment to star as fashion’s slut,
for my boobs will never measure up to Kim Kardashian’s butt!
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/if-i-ruled-the-world/
The Prompt: You’ve been given the power to change one rule of nature. What would it be?
This is one of those prompts that cries out not to be taken seriously, mainly because every time we’ve tried to interfere with nature, things have turned out badly. With that in mind, I will resort to farce and hyperbole!
Keeping Abreast
If I were made the ruler of
this universe I rue and love,
the one thing I would not let “be”
is the force of gravity
in respect to just one issue.
Namely––my mammary tissue!
For, though you may feel dubious,
each year, I grow more boobious!
I do not like them hanging there
where once they used to thrust the air.
Where once each strained against its cup,
It seems like now they’ve given up.
Listless and flat, downward they droop.
Sad Sack replaces Betty Boop.
They have no personality.
They’ve lost elasticality!
The result is truly tragic,
so this is why I need some magic.
Please, gods of nature, give a cure.
There must be some way to inure
my breasts from force of gravity.
Now that I rule, hear my plea!
Tell gravity that it is best
to loose its hold upon each breast
so they are perky once again,
thrusting out below my chin
instead of hanging in two vees
somewhere down around my knees!
Restore my pride. Dispel my frown.
I want them hanging out, not down!
Go here: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/12/11/flopped-selfie/ to read a poem that is an answer to the poem above–as well as the response below! (I promise, however, to end this subject here and now. No more!)
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/if-i-ruled-the-world/
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 