A Limerick. Right?

Bad Michael!

A fellow that I know who sweats

quite profusely as he has tourettes

does not know where he’ll be

when it escapes him you see

and will shout out quite loud “SHITTWATFUCKCOCKEATMYBUMBOOBSLICKMESPANKMECALLMEJULIEFRONTBUMJIZZTITS”

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Okay I know, ity doesn’t rhyme 😉

Happy Monday!

Thorns

Dedicted to the couple having a row outside our hotel rooom because he lost the key and the kid needs a poo. Seriously, just break up now. You’re doomed.

When bloom has failed and frangrance passed

and thorns now all that does remain

that into soft flesh dig and draw

tears scarlet which run down pale cheeks.

These nightimes fall without sunset

and lifeless love lies tossed aside

and joy once wild and filled with hope

sits silent, strangled, without voice.

Yet onwards, duty, oath’s fulfilled

and aching smiles speak not of pain

through days they shuffle, numb to loss

and into night , not to emerge

 

 

A limerick about flatulence fetish perhaps?

It is Monday after all. Just about. It just about rhymes. Kinda.

Eproctophilia out in the garden

met a flatulent lass “Beg your pardon”

She proclaimed, did a toot

He breathed in her bum fruit

And it gave him a fart fuelled huge hardon

Look I know, takes some effort reading it but it just kind of slipped out.  Reminded me of the time I did those haiku about fetishes and then when I was teaching in that time and left the research on the laptop when I plugged in in front of about twenty 10 year olds.

Without Regret

Sometimes they’re just words…

Should I regret this life well lived

when night time comes and stars look down

then I should surely reassess

and count the costs, repent the loss

to find the joy that like gold veins

runs through this rock on which we built

and lived and loved and spent our days

for these are all were gifted free

until like sand they run away

through fingers old and worn and laced

across our chests and unto sleep

Along The Weathered Winding Trail – Room 101

A start of somethign perhaps…

In response to M’s writing prompts which you can find at the link below.  These are often just quick pieces, ideas or glimpses of what might be…Fun to do though.  I used to try do them in 101 owrds but meh, it’s close enough…See the prompts here


The lights of the night beyond splashed across the hotel bedroom walls and painted his body in neon pinks and blues as he walked towards the window. Breathing deep he slid open the heavy glass panes and the noise of the city spilled in with the cold winter air. Shivering he lit a cigarette and watched below, the smell of her cheap perfume still on his skin and that god awful noise she made ringing in his ears.

Fighting against the wind Dennis folded the map and forced it angrily in to the side pocket of his pack.

“So, where now?” Cath asked taking a drink from her canteen and motioning towards the valley below them.  “Down there?  Seems the best route I think.”

Dennis took a deep breath and counted to five in his head as he watched the water glisten on her lips.  She licked them noisily and it made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.   

“No, we need to head up.” He pointed westwards to where the sun was beginning to arc towards the snow covered peaks.  “The pass is another couple of hundred feet up and a few hours beyond that we should be not too far from the cabin.”

“A couple of hours?  Jesus Dennis how are we so far off track?  I thought you said you knew how to read a map” 

Dennis snatched the canteen and took a drink. 

“Careful” Cath snapped back, “that’s got to last us until we can find water again and you know I get thirsty.”

He stared at her as he felt the water slip down his throat and down through his chest like a knife slicing slowly into him.  His heart was racing and he wondered if anyone would believe him if he said she’d slipped and fell into a ravine.

“Sorry, you’re right” he replied.  “I don’t know where we went wrong.  We need to get moving though as we need to be there before dark.”  He knew exactly where they had gone wrong, they had gone wrong when Cath had insisted on taking charge because he always got these things wrong apparently. 

Dennis hauled his pack onto his back and pulled the straps tight.  There was snow in the air and the temperature was dropping.  Probably too cold for her to die from hyperthermia if caught out he thought, far too early in the season.   Pity.

“This way then” he said setting off along the narrow track along the cliff top.  To their left tall pines climbed into the sky and far below he could hear the babble of water. 

“Maybe you should go down and get some water before we set off” Cath suggested shaking the bottle. 

“Maybe you should get mauled by a bear in the night because your sleeping bag has been filled with bacon” Dennis thought to himself before insisting that there was a waterfall on the map not far away and that they could hold out until then. 

“I’m really thirsty “ Cath replied taking another drink.  “Are you okay waiting until we get there?”

“Yes dear of course” Dennis replied, his fists curled into a ball wondering whether there were wolves in the area.

They walked quietly for a while, the beauty of their surroundings lost on Dennis as he stared at the ground counting the steps as he went.  This was supposed to be a trip to help fix things but just a day in and things were resuming their usual patterns of accusation and recrimination. 

“Gorgeous isn’t it” he said looking up and motioning to the white tipped mountains in the distance.  “The brochures really don’t do it justice.”

Cath didn’t respond and when Dennis turned around he saw that she had her ear buds in and was humming along to whatever she had playing.  It was probably Bach.  She liked Bach.  Bach made him feel stupid because he simply could not appreciate it like his wife and her university friends did. 

“Fuckin Bitch” he said aloud. 

God that felt good. 

She looked up, removing one of the buds from here ear.  “Did you say something?” She asked.

“No Dear” Dennis responded.  “Not long to go now though and we should be at the waterfall.”

“Ok” Cath said and went back to her music.

“I want to screw your sister” Dennis muttered under his breath smiling.    

Cath removed her earbuds again.  “Are you sure you didn’t say something?  You do have a habit of mumbling as you know.”

“Bears” thought Dennis.  Bear would probably eat all of her, even her fat arse.

“Up there look” Dennis said “the waterfall.”

The last hundred metres seemed to take forever as the path grew steeper and underfoot large rocks made the going difficult.  By the time they reached the summit they were both breathing heavily. 

“God look at that, isn’t it amazing” Dennis said.  Before him a river cut through the rocks and plunged downwards to the valley below.

“Yeah its lovely” Cath said handing him the canteen.  “Fill that up will you I want to take a photo.”

Dennis watched as she walked up to the edge of the bank where the river fell over the cliff edge.  Unfortunately it wasn’t particularly fast flowing so there was little chance that she would be washed away.

“Hey Dennis, come and take a photo with me” Cath called out.   

Dennis walked over reluctantly, his usual smile plastered across his face. 

“One for the scrap book” He said standing next to Cath, the heavily wooded valley stretching far into the distance. 

“Indeed it will be” Cath said as quite suddenly she pushed Dennis hard in the back and he stumbled forward twisting slowly as he plunged over the cliff top.

Looking up he saw her smiling down at him as he fell towards his death.

“Fucking bitch…”

Your Tuesday limerick

It’s that time again

Once a virginal lassie from Bury

To her boyfriend she offered her cherry

“Damn wrong hole” she did cry

“You’re two inches too high!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, she replied “Very!”

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I had to do a wee but of research on this to get the imperial measurements as I am very much metric born and raised.   Oh and yes I know, position matters here in the general up and down of things. Look you’ll work it out I am sure…Now my browser needs clearing.  See the lengths I go to for your limericky pleasure!

The fizzled enchantment and other stories of ruin – Room 101

A start of somethign perhaps…

In response to M’s writing prompts which you can find at the link below.  These are often just quick pieces, ideas or glimpses of what might be…Fun to do though.  I used to try do them in 101 owrds but meh, it’s close enough…See the prompts here


The lights of the night beyond splashed across the hotel bedroom walls and painted his body in neon pinks and blues as he walked towards the window. Breathing deep he slid open the heavy glass panes and the noise of the city spilled in with the cold winter air. Shivering he lit a cigarette and watched below, the smell of her cheap perfume still on his skin and that god awful noise she made ringing in his ears.

Snow began to fall slowly as she emerged below and stepped out onto the street, already he could sense the life beating inside her, feeding hungrily. He hated himself almost as much as he hated them, but their soft pink bodies made great hosts…

And onwards…

Something inspired by something else

How beautiful you are

Beneath the stars alive, so brightly burning

And all about, the darkness yearning

For a word, a touch, a glance

That sweet romance, the slightest chance

To feel that light and love and grace

And like the sun warm on my face

We are, always, here in this place

And lights we pray won’t dim

Like far too many, gone before

those promises they sweetly swore

But time moves on, they are no more

But that is not our fate…

Alas my beard is no more.

A thing about why I am currently beardless…

Note to self…next time you decide on a quick beard trim before bed remember to check the settings because if you don’t youre likely to shave too much off and end up with a goatee, and let’s be honest – unless you’re the devil, a jazz saxophonist or a dirty bastard of dubious morals who hangs around pet shops with ill intent then you should not be rocking a goatee.

In hope rather than expectation I asked Mrs Afterwards whether I might perhaps not have a goatee and suggested it might be okay though I knew full well that I did and it wouldn’t and she quite honestly pointed out that it looked ridiculous and I needed to go finish the job and could I stop disturbing her whist she watched the end of her whodunnit.

Actually, that isn’t the first beard related shenanningan in the last week thinking about it. I run a quiz at work each month and this month I did a “Who’s mouth and beard is this?” thingy. Turns out my team has a lot of beardo’s and before I knew it my phone was overflowing with man bush. I made sure I told the mrs as it struck me that should I get run over by a bus (something I was assured happened often when I was younger and I ought to therefore always have clean pants on), my phone might suggest that I had been dipping into the ‘bear’ pool on Grinder.

I did have a chuckle when I considered turning each of the mouth and beard photos 90 degrees but again, Mrs Afterwards reminded me that it was a work thing I was doing and that I was a horrible man and ought to be ashamed of myself. Just think about it…

Shes always right you know 😉

Now in the calm

Some rhymey stuff

These words, these thoughts, these in between

The lines, the sheets, the days and dreams

This place he finds her,madness screams

As nothing ever lasts.

Each syllable twists in the wind

Words whisked away, she cant rescind

Or even hide where they have sinned

And clings to hopes now dashed.

Forlorn until time heals and mends

To keep from harm the heart pretends

Until new starts warm cold dark ends

Their pain slips to the past.

Out in the Van – Ilkley Moor

A day out in Yorkshire. And without one’s hat…

Okay so not strictly speaking a van trip but a great day out clambering about the Cow and Calf up on Ilkley which is just a hop, skip and a jump from where I live.  

Pictures say it all really.  It was windy and somewhat grey but a lovely way to spend a good few hours indeed.