‘Half Your Luck’ and Haiku by Rose Williams

‘Half Your Luck’ and Haiku by Rose Williams

Rose is an 81 year old poet, mother of 6, grandmother of 14 and great-grandmother of Frankie Rose. Rose finds inspiration reading, walking, and at the beach, and loves coffee and time with family and friends.



I’ve always been a loser, never had no luck

From the time I was a baby and couldn’t learn to suck.

Me mother had to feed me through little toothless gums

Mushy sloppy stuff and nasty gritty crumbs.

And when I started school, I was put into a class

With a bloody crabby teacher who used to whack me arse.

I always got me sums wrong, kept in every night.

So when I turned fifteen, I packed the schoolin in

And went lookin for a job but even then, I couldn’t win.

I read the ads and rang up but was always just too late

Because the bus broke down or I misinterpreted the date.

So I ended up a garbo. Mind you, I’m not ashamed.

Someone’s gotta do the job but I’m always bein blamed

When the rubbish bins tip over . It isn’t bloody fair.

You’d think when luck was handed out, I’d get me bloody share.

I don’t walk under no ladders, I’m careful as can be

But if mishaps are gunna happen, they’ll all fall on to me.

I tried me hand at cricket, thought that might change me luck

But the first time I went in to bat, I went out for a duck.

I bought raffle tickets, Lotto, me numbers never spin up.

I’ve bet on horses, played the pokies, never got a win up.

And then I fell in love and married Betty Bragg.

I thought I was one lucky guy till she began to nag.

Soon’s she had the ring on, she tried to change me ways

I had to give up fags and drink. She took charge of me pay.

I had to shave each morning, put on clean underwear

And sex? Mate, I’ve forgotten cos it was bloody rare.

Well. I comes home this evenin, on time so she don’t get sore

And the house is bloody silent and there’s a note stuck on the door.

I have to read it twice, I can’t believe me eyes.

She’s left me, Betty has, for some sensitive new age guy.

And when I told me mate, he turned green as our garbo truck.

‘ You bloody lucky bastard mate. Wish I had half your luck !!’



After Good Friday

We stand on our crosses

Before supermarket shelves.


Legs tightly crossed

She awaits delivery

Of toilet rolls.


My best friend and I

Meet for take away coffee 

Too far apart.


Masked and sanitised

Neighbours pass neighbours

Recognising no one.



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