Inevitable

Where once we lay

Do your think of me those days

Where dark thoughts senses suffocate

That joy I watched drain from your face

As life and lies cruel whispers told

Fools promises and could have beens

I could not keep them from your door

Arms wide you beckoned them inside

Smiles melancholy, sickly sweet

Coarse noose of lies, soft velvet hopes

Blinded, stumbling, on and on

And to this end inevitable

But now alone where once we lay

Things I would not place inside myself – A poem

it’s somethign I guess…well actually not really…meh…

It seems that there are those that will, and I think it’s a farce,

but people (per the internet) do hide things in their arse.

I’m told (though not seen it myself for I share my PC

with kids) so cant research it but if I did I would see

 

Ripe marrows place in darkest holes, and veges by the barrow

inserted, lubed and with great force, pushed into bottoms narrow.

Digits, midgets, varied widgets placed where sun shines not

a friend of mine vanished a vase when on it she did squat.

 

This bloke from Scotland, cavernous, spread wide, bent to receive

the contents of Old Nick’s full sack when drunk on Christmas eve.

And I did read a tale of woe of one lad who took pleasure

dressed as a pirate placed gold coins inside like hidden treasure.

 

A story told of one young chap one night when feeling fruity

filed down a tooth bruch, electric type, to place inside his booty.

But not outdone a lass invited several chaps to sample

her gaping hole but it turned out that just the two were ample…

 

Things stuck inside, spread open wide, or isides falling out

each to their own, and when at home, I really have no doubt

that there are those who cant recall, have lost things, or forgotten

I might suggest they might just be lodged inside your bottom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My First Book – For those who missed it last time…

Seems I wrote one…

You can read about the WHY here…but it’s out there.  300 of my finest limericks.  Currently trending at number 359 in the limericks category on Amazon!

After a few people have read it I am probably about ready to admit I am kinda proud of it now.  🙂

Paperback in the UK is here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1916089011

And in the US here

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1916089011

There are ebook versions too.

 

 

Succumb

Mostly just rhymey lines of stuff

If time will tell of darkest deeds

Succumbed to burning wants and needs

And how for love she gladly bleeds

Hunger unfulfilled she feeds.

 

And in those moments laid quite bare

She spirals skywards through the air

And soars like morning clouds most fair

Unbridled without thought or care.

 

Lips blood red and wild unleashed

A lovers tale between the sheets

Where love and lust at crossroads meets

To bliss succumb and love most sweet

 

 

Waking

These battles played out on the streets….

These battles played out on the streets

For heart and soul, beneath the sheets

And words they spill, lips full of rage

And like blood spill onto the page.

 

My now

Your then

Our what might be

 

And blinded, clambering to see

The path not taken, setting free

And time will tell, and roads will wind

As shrouded pasts are left behind

 

This evermore

That what could be

Those sweetest of tomorrow’s

Stars

Like stars beyond my reach …

Like stars beyond my reach those thoughts of you

slip through my fingers to my feet

head bowed faintest recollections blown like sand

I’m left here on this precipice.

Here in the darkness looking out

and fire burns on horizon distant

blood red, golden on my face

One last time wind whispers your name

Fading

One of these?

At night he whispers sweet reminders

of how it felt, quite swept along.

Returning tides compelled, jump in,

strong currents have their way.

And beaches red at sunset burn

as she returns to land once more

and on her lips his promise lingers

salt stained on her skin.

 

Until tides turn and whispers fade,

sepia tinged her longing rests

and deep she sighs, sea at her back

and smiling turns away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reduce — constant Variable

You’re gone, and then you’re back again You’re back, and then you’re gone Reduce your words by lacking pen The hourglass you fractured then But swirling grains of you, I’ve seen before, they never linger long You’re smiling, and then you frown You’re laughing, then you cry Reduce your presence and your sound I search […]

via Reduce — constant Variable

 

Read it damn it.  Read all of his stuff!

Always you

Just a few libnes…I’m off to bed.

Should I ever turn and find you gone

and memories are all I have

then each as treasure I would hold

each precious as the next.

 

Each sweet caress and gentle word

heart racing at your touch

and incomplete I recollect

each morning by your side.

 

For time and tide may senses dull

diminished may I be

you shine as bright as summer sun

and home is where I find you still.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Families

This is one I did for linda that I will not post here but please go see her and follow her because she is fab.  Do it!

https://mainepaperpusher.wordpress.com/2019/04/19/guest-in-jest-93-afterwards/

 


Families

We all have them.  Mostly.  I mean there are those that don’t see them, or don’t particularly care for them.  There are those that have disowned them and live a blissful existence where they are never obliged to try and see them once a year so as to not feel like a complete bastard –  even though a reciprocal visit is as unlikely as is a simple thanks for the present you sent their kids.
Heavens I am sure there are people out there who don’t have to like someone simply because they fell out of their vagina.
Okay so thinking about it I will admit that there are those who have, by fate or choice, simply ended up without any.   But we’ve all had them at some point then.  Let’s settle on that shall we.
Anyway my point was that I wanted to share a tale or two from mine this week.
I have two boys and like to think I’ve done my best and when last week the youngest looked most upset when watching a TV show about cancer patients and how 2 in 4 people will get the disease I thought “yeah, empathy, good qualities.”  Mrs’ Afterwards eyes welled up as we were encouraged to dial in and pledge just £2 to cancer research and she looked over to Aterwards Junior and assured him that it was okay, it was just part of life, but before she was able to assure him further he explained that “fingers crossed it’s you and dad that get it” and not him and his brother..
I see a career in politics or the church for him surely.
There was also an incident at the end of a particularly tricky day with my eldest who, despite being a lovely gentle boy, is prone to outbursts of profanity when I am perhaps a little less understanding of his hormonal situation as I might be.  He is 14 after all.  Anyway, the boys were tucked in bed and I came down from checking on them and Mrs Afterwards insisted that wasn’t it good that he hadn’t once insisted I fuck off this evening.  Straight faced.
To make it worse I actually agreed thinking yeah, I am fucking super dad!
The week though was crowned by a moment of such glorious madness that I believe I will be telling the tale for many a year.
A particular family member came out you see.  After more than four and a half decades a certain someone decided that in fact he was gay and had been fighting it for many years and was ready to admit to it and see where that lead.
More wonderful than this act of self acceptance though was his mother’s response.
She insisted that if that was his choice then he better not use her tooth brush ever again and there was absolutely  no way she would ever again eat any of his leftovers.
I mean what the fuck.
Dissect that as you will.
I mean does she think she will catch something from him using her toothbrush?  To be fair I don’t want to share one with anyone regardless of who they choose to place themselves inside.  Does she think she will catch syphilis if she eats his leftover sausage roll?
Does she think you can catch gay?
She is 75 so maybe she is worried she will eat half of his cheese and pickle sandwich and wake up desperate for a shaven headed tattooed lass to eat her out and then insist she fist her and there’s no way she can, not with her arthritic wrists?!?!
Oh god maybe Freddie Mercury got aids after sharing a family size bag of crisps with some bloke in a night club toilet?
People eh

Kiss my nuts

Okay so perhaps a work in progress title but it got your attention I am sure. Just in one of those moods 🙂 Sorry. Kinda.

Were I at last to recognise the thing that we became

The thorny, bristling, spite filled rage

That spews from me onto the page

And like so many through the age,

At last I give it name.

 

My not again, my what the fuck, my who the hell was I

Quite compromised, unrecognised

And like those fools, philosophised

That I was there, just drowned by lies

And watched as life passed by.

 

And then, unshackled, this my thought

Regret no more, not turning back

And craving not the things I lack

now place your lips upon my sack

And kiss them like you ought.

 

 

 

Chilled

Come on, were all a bit too serious sometimes

In sleep I kiss your lips now cold

and miss the hand I used to hold

but god you made me feel so old

I’m kind of glad you’re dead

 

Heart’s drift apart when rent asunder

but can you blame you blame me there’s no wonder

from day one it was quite a blunder

should have listened to what friends said.

 

Mouth full of lies and legs oft parted

and that time you shit when farted

Inside I smiled when you were carted

to final slumber’s bed.

 

On and on such endless droning

pretty mouth but so much moaning

okay so I quite liked you groaning

when you were giving head.

 

But time moves on and people change

yeah yeah I know I may be strange

but jesus you were most deranged

and filled us all with dread.

 

So fare thee well, you did expire

now consumed with roaring fire

toast marshmellow on funeral pyre

I’m glad you’re gone, ’nuff said.

Debris

Just one of these things.

This cliff top wreckage of the place that once our hope protected

I stand and feel the chill of night as shadows slowly lengthen

And as my thoughts are drawn to betrayed memory of promise

Those icy fingers of regret squeeze tight and leave me gasping.

 

No night, no stars, no restless slumber

Horizon sparks and crackles

Into this tempest I will run

And scream your name one final time.

 

Lungs bursting, eyes red as the blood

That thunders through these veins

The words are lost as rising waters

Drag your ghost to inky depths.

 

And on that beach as morning comes and calm creeps with the sun

I turn , soft waves lap at my feet, and look back one last time

There in that place where love once blossomed nothing now remains

Your name now lost upon the breeze that blows upon my face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bound

Just one of these things.

When skies turn grey, horizon’s shrouded

Compass bearing wayward, lost

I find my comfort wrapped in you

and threads that bind, knit tight.

Drawing  close such warmth I find

life’s colours woven through this cloth

though mended, frayed, it’s patched with love

and never out of reach.

This love, this life, our ever more

through storms that roar and rage,

my shelter until morning comes

and sun shines on my face.

ReD

Words perhaps? Not Rhymey ones. The other type.

Lips like fire set worlds ablaze

and reckless how they run

those crimson tongues charred ruins make

and promise they turn to ash.

In sweat soaked sheets they smoulder still

the merest spark brings it to life

and lies once more sing sweetest strain

until burnt out flame fades to black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My First Book

Seems I wrote one…

I have written before about why I started my blog.  For those who missed it one of the main reasons was due to a friend who’s wife, an aspiring writer and a vile human being, insisting that anyone that self publishes does so as an act of vanity which is probably why she had never been published and for the most part refused to work.  Writers retreats she enjoyed a plenty I believe.

Anyway, perhaps I ended up proving her point, but I suggested to my friend that I would from that day forth take up writing and publish a book before she did just to prove the point that surely it isn’t that hard and perhaps if she wasn’t such a horrible cow she might have achieved more.

Anyway, the result of that rant can now be found on Amazon in the form of my first book ‘A Collection of Inappropriate Limericks.  Its only 300 or so of my limericks but it’s something I guess.  Something I made that perhaps my grandkids will hold one day and ask “What the fuck was wrong with Grandad?”

Paperback out now with the E-book to follow on the twelfth mostly because I made a mistake setting it up and couldn’t work out how to remedy it.’

Oh and I dedicated it to her too.  Seemed only right.

Paperback in the UK is here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1916089011

And in the US here

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1916089011

UK E-Book can be preordered here for delivery on the 12th of April.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07QF58TYM

 

The US E-Book is here

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QF58TYM

 

Who’d have thought it eh…

Then

Wordy wordy lordy lordy

Regrets I’ve bundled, wrapped in hope

and set aflame to warm myself

at night as fire side burns so bright

with what and if and maybe so.

 

Instead I choose a path of is

and simply tis just how it goes

and from my tongue hyperbole

flows as the streams of passing time.

 

And cinders drift into the sky

as light illuminates my face

deep lined with things I now forget

and carefree watch them pass me by.

 

 

Yesterday

Wordy wordy

This England I now roam of green

which for another time holds dear

would at the hearth of days long gone

stand, warm itself hid from the storm.

 

Crisp cricket whites hung on the line

and tea enjoyed at summer fair,

and fingers black from Sunday papers

beckon sunset shine on her once more.

 

Dreams sweet as jam from berries tart

of who she was and could have been

from mirror turns at sight most foul

and searches for the good old days.