Category: poetry

Guzzling Gary – March Prompts 16/31

My what a big appetite you have.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Guzzling Gary likes pies

And hes rather fond of meat

Oh he really loves chips

And thinks snake meat quite a treat

He will eat a bag of raddish

And he’ll quaff a pint of soup

See him down a foot of sausage

Eat spaghetti, straight or loop

He will neck a quart of ice cream

Followed by a glass of sherry

And eat burgers by the fistful

Followed by a pound of cherry

Then it’s onto quail and liver

Lightly braised and served with veg

And some monkey and a lizard

And a squirrel from a hedge

Then perhaps a baby llama

And a bisque made from some cats

And a stew made from some puppies

Or some dumplings stuffed with bats

Oh and see him eat a whale steak

And a platypus on rye

Lick the juices from a goldfish

And bake hamsters in a pie

And then turtle stuffed with budgies

then some parrots braised with figs

but for daft religious reason

theres no bacon, its from pigs

Jezebel

sometimes I just start typing words and hope something even half sensible emerges…

A heady mix of dark and light she dances

like gossamer on the breeze and sugar on the tongue

she delights, and in her freedom beckons you to follow

sweet whispers and soft words engage

and head and heart and form then with electric thrill

and without thought of consequence enslaved

to worship and new supplicant is wilful born

and freely takes his place in writhing mass of flesh

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evermore

And evermore to be repaid…

 

Awake she waits then into darkness falls

of loss and life and love and all that passed her by she ponders

and soft and slow surrenders to sweet malaise

and in madness and malady consumed embraces him

 

Her hand in his, and whispers promised sweet

Lured on and on and blind to all but he

And chains that bind and loves dear heart so foul corrupts

He beds and binds and breaks then tossed aside

 

And in that moment scorned and used

Heart breaks over evermore and rising laughter sounds

Tasted, taunted temptress feels the pain again

That she so harsh inflicted causing loves pure heart to fail

Stitches of Glitches – March Prompts 15/31

A quickie indeed.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Crackle of interference

Space and time ripped asunder

And the night lights up lightning and thunder

 

Wormholes spin and fill the sky

And mothers scream and children run

Nowhere to go our time is done

 

And through swarm hordes of creatures dark

And feast on flesh and gnaw on bone

Like locusts into every home

 

Through glitch in time and space they’re drawn

They can’t be stopped they know no rest

‘till all’s devoured galaxies pest

 

Sun blotted out fields turned to red

And mankind wiped out in a blink

Like water swirling down the sink

Bootles Beetles – March Prompts 14/31

A witches curse…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Bootles beetles grubs and grime

Pinch of madness dash of time

What once was yours shall soon be mine

and you shall be distraught

 

A splash of envy, fist of hate

A ruptured spleen and twist of fate

Never on time and always late

In her web are you caught

 

And to her will you’ll surely bend

No stitch in time your soul to mend

And sadness is your only friend

So heed the lesson taught

 

Or you will find as time goes by

All will be lost in blink of eye

Your days to waste and lonely die

A life that’s lived for naught

Consumed

nom nom nom

 

Jiggling, sweat pools and jowls drool

Ill fitting, tight sitting, pants splitting

Slowly, thighs chafe and crevices clammy

Never ending, chair bending keep pretending

One more, maybe two, empty boxes

Lips licking leftover picking

Old notch, new notch new belt

Digging into squishy pink flesh

And more, ever more ravenous

Until alone, mouldy folds and cold

One last trip, fat to render

And dripping, burning furnace consumed

 

Pouty and Plump – March Prompts 12/31

The poor lass.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Once a fellow met twins

who embodied most sins

and he nicknamed them Pouty and Plump

One had full vacuum lips

and the other round hips

and they’d once spent a night with Don Trump

 

That’s about as far as I got in ten minutes.  I toyed with all sorts of ideas and all I could manage was that and whilst it probably hasn’t gone too far yet it probably would have.  Sometimes when I write the first idea I have is what makes it to the page and that idea can dominate to such an extent that no other will shift it and that was the case with this one.

The thing is, I made a conscious effort to remove the twat that is Donald from my writing a month or two ago now and apart from perhaps one or two slips have found myself in a much happier place because of it.  I removed him from my twitter as best I could and made a real effort to simply not consider anything to do with him.

I am sure there are many arguments for and against my approach and I am sure they are all pretty compelling but for me, right now, I like ignorance.  It is bliss after all.

 

 

 

 

Jelly Jars – March Prompts 12/31

Of all the things you hold most dear.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

There is a man with jelly jars

Keeps babies teeth and fallen stars

And virgins tears and la-de-das

And fathers best cigars

 

Into your home he sneaks at night

And steals the things you hold so tight

And harvests thought both dark and light

And steals them without fight

 

And when you wake it feels amiss

You cant remember your first kiss

You thought you had more cash than this

and fear replaces bliss

 

and so he steals your dreams and plans

and time and love holds in his hands

lets slip away like grains of sands

and returns to distant lands

Sepia smiles

She pages through albums

Dog eared corners, tear stained, well thumbed

Faded smiles and distant echoes of laughter

Take her back each time and lines fade from her face

 

Sun through broken windows illuminates

And beckons from the shadows

Memories of those who for far too long have waited

Fearful of the dark and of her rage

 

In those moments small hands held and brows kissed

Full bellies and blankets tightly tucked

Of regret no thoughts and of nighty nights

Until setting sun brings once more dark veil

 

And as sepia eyes smile and say goodnight

She looks through bars to catch sunsets dying embers

And lies as stars peek through inky black

and regrets, remembers and tries to forget

Billowy Breezes – March Prompts 11/31

Truly scraping the bottom of the barrel here…I should be ashamed.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

There was once was a fellow called billowy breezes

His real name was  Bob and he shits when he sneezes

So great is the force that it buckles his kneeses

And bent over he tends to explode

 

“Can’t be helped” he insists when he’s asked on the matter

One time at a wedding the bride he did splatter

Caked a kitty in turds left her fur quite in tatters

When one day he was crossing the road

 

If he’s sniffly at work folk will run and take cover

He once exploded so hard the filth knocked a man over

Hes quite famous, once painted the white cliffs of dover

After eating some chillis he’d growed

 

So watch out if you see him take care and beware

It not really his fault and yes people will stare

You should not walk behind him on the way up the stair

Just in case he happens to unload

 

Powder Blue – March Prompts 10/31

The poor lass.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

 

In powder blue a true delight

Her belly full her clothes quite tight

He knocked her up hes doing right

And marrying it seems

 

She loves him so, he thinks he might

Just love her back but late last night

He met this girl oh quite a sight

she quite fulfilled his dreams

 

well dreams may be a wee bit trite

they fondled in the pale moonlight

and to her place they headed right

and devious thoughts he schemes

 

And home at crack of new day light

inside he tries to tread so light

but she’s aware and now his plight

is far worse that it seems

 

He tries to lie but gets a fright

As on his neck she left a bite

no longer he her shining knight

Tears replace loves beams

A tisket for a tasket – March Prompts 9/31

Imagine it being sung as a nursery rhyme by a creepy little child as it plays with a broken doll.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

 

A tisket for a tasket throw your mother in a basket

Put the basket in the fire watch the flames as they grow high

 

A tisket for a tasket put the baby in the basket

Watch the baby sail away and then rule the land one day

 

A tisket for a tasket push the boat man in a basket

Put the basket in the river watch him drown and watch him shiver

 

A tisket for a tasket put the lover in a basket

Pop the basket in the pot serve the lover piping hot

 

A tisket for a tasket shove the father in the basket

Hang the basket from the tree watch him jig and dance with glee

 

A tisket for a tasket lay yourself down in the casket

Put the casket in the ground there you can’t make any sound.

 

Punch Drunk – March Prompts 8/31

Wincing, eyes blinking, afraid and never thinking

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

 

Wincing, eyes blinking

Afraid and never thinking

Using, abusing

just cover up the bruising

aching, shaking

giving never taking

violent, silent

need to be compliant

pretending, never ending

in time the flesh is mending

beneath covers, lost lovers

from this he won’t recover

Silly Assumptions – March Prompts 7/31

“Oh take care to assume
or to careless presume
that the world will still be there tomorrow…”

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

 

 

Oh take care to assume

or to careless presume

that the world will still be there tomorrow

for it could all just end

so wise up don’t pretend

as it could all just end in real sorrow

 

We could spin into the sun

Then we’d all be well done

And sun screen wont do no good at all

We could suffer a blast

From a meteor fast

Which would melt us in its fireball

 

Or a virus that turns

you to mush as it burns

your insides and they drip from your pores

Or a zombie infection

And your without protection

And your wife eats your brain while you snore

 

Perhaps creatures from space

Who would eat off your face

And lay eggs in your gut a foot long

And you’d burst at the seems

As young creatures burst free

And they feed on your corpse and grow strong

 

So take heed and beware

Live each day and take care

As today could well just be your last

You could die in your chair

No one find you and there

You’d be found, face chewed off by your cats

Hobbity Bobbity – March Prompts 6/31

“Samwise Gamgee squealed with delight his buttocks clenched quite tight…”

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

 

There was going to be a poem in response to the daily prompt and it was going to start like this:

“She was hobbit bobbity the queen of blow jobbity”

I then thought better.  Not that it would not have been funny – to me at least – it would have, it is just that I don’t really want to besmirch the idea of the Hobbits with the idea of them overly sexual.  Obviously they have hobbit loving but I hold them very dear and as a huge Tolkein fan would prefer to not imagine Pippin and Merry naked, eyes closed enjoying the oral pleasures of the afore mentioned blow jobbity.

You should thank me really because I am doing my very best not to ruin The Lord of the Rings for you by using sentences such as:

“Samwise squealed with delight his buttocks clenched quite tight…”

I realise that would be upsetting for some, and rightly so. No one wants to have to consider the fact that Frodo and dildo kind of rhyme, and god forbid they end up in a sentence such as “Loins on fire Mr Frodo, brandishing knobbly dildo, did approach…”  That would just ruin your Sunday and I just would not want to do that .

So no need to thanks me, let’s just all breathe a collective sigh of relief that this is most definitely not a gratuitously filthy piece about Gandalf’s staff…

Creaky Cranks – March Prompts 5/31

Not really sure what its about, I only had ten minutes…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

The cranks that creak they get the oil

creation running smooth

The cogs that whir the chimneys belch

The pistons thrust, wheels move

 

Red lights burn bright, see furnace blaze

Hear click and clank and whir

It trundles slowly through the night

Black smoke it fills the air

 

Atop he rides his dour machine

Colleting souls for fuel

Wheels turn, cranks pull and push and thrust

Boned finger pointed, cruel

 

With oil that’s squeezed from those he finds

He greases, handles turned

His cogs and pulleys, back and forth

Remains discarded, burned

 

To fuel his creature, through the dark

In search of those who stray

From light to dark and pledge themselves

Until the end of days

Fidgety Fiona – March Prompts 4/31

Ooh you better stay away from that Fiona…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

 

Fidgety Fiona

Was a groaner

And a moaner

And the sort of girl your mother wouldn’t like

 

She would tease

And she would please

And she would have you on your knees

And then maybe she would ride you like a bike

 

She was never sated

Though many men she dated

While some others sat and waited

Hoping maybe soon it might just be their turn

 

But soon it went awry

And Fiona she did die

And the men all wondered why

And soon they were a ghastly truth to learn

 

For it seems Fiona sweet

The dark darling of the street

In the air often her feet

On the corner her wares eagerly parades

 

And the men she satisfied

Very soon withered and died

And their wives gnashed teeth and cried

For Fiona gave them syphilis and aids

 

Purple Nurples – March Prompts 3/31

He comes bearing gifts from the new world…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

He’s the king of the seas, he explores for the queen

And her court they await his delights

He amazes and thrills and his deeds pay the bills

And he looks so damned good in those tights

 

With a flourish and swirl he appears to the court

Women love him and men think he’s great

Walter Reighleigh’s no match for his most recent catch

And the Queen and her court congregate

 

Says Victoria “Do tell, your gift would do most well

To compare to My Walters potato

For it brings me delight so must yours here tonight

else they’ll lop off your head at my say so”

 

So he reached for his bag and the court fell quite still

It was velvet and plush and quite purple

And he reached deep inside and with face filled with pride

He pulled out a quite fab pair of nurple

 

The court gasped quite amazed and the clapped and they raved

Such a sight they had not before seen

He approached to the throne with the pair quite full grown

And presented his gifts to the queen

 

With their bright bush tails and their thick purple scales

And long legs and short arms and pink hair

And their bellies quite round and their low gurgling sound

It was surely a breath taking pair.

 

“Oh how quite wondrous” she said making a fuss

And she held them, and seemed most excited

Walt’s potatoes forgot, and right there on the spot

To his knees and was by the Queen knighted

Galloping Gadzooks – March Prompts 2/31

In celebration at the end of a rather serious February

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

A band of men of dubious past together off to war

to fight the Hun, face Prussian gun and drink and laugh and whore

Into the breach they gladly surge and willingly they lead

to sate desire and feel alive for King and kin they bleed

 

Their leader ,fearless Jack O’Rourke a fallen catholic priest

now filed with rage and whisky fuelled and dining at war’s feast

His right hand Man Old Jock McCann thrice married thrice bereaved

they died of natural causes if his tales they are believed

 

The twins, Siamese, dead shots for sure and none that can compare

kills in the  high three hundreds and you’ll never know they’re there

Tom Sparrow, mute, his tongue cut out stands silently with poise

and Taylor,  prim and proper, college type who loves young boys

 

With Jones and Simpson hired guns just in it for the coin

and Mason dark of skin and heart and fierce with fist and loin

a band of brothers, horse astride you wont see in your books

but through the bloodied hell of war rode The Galloping Gadzooks

For my children

Some deep rambling stuff

My memories will fade one day

my eyes will shine less bright

and into dark I’ll surely slip

but you’ll remain my light

 

The best of me I hope I gave

My smile, my laugh my frown

from good and bad, your path I shaped

you’res the thing’s I’ve handed down

 

Your hand I help, your head I kissed

scraped knee and fever soothed

beside your bed all night I sat

a heart once hard so moved

 

And seasons pass, I watch and smile

you clamber, fight and strive

too quick to run before you walk

eyes bright and so alive

 

Each year that passes I embrace

such change and watch you grow

my hand let go you walk alone

and deep inside I know

 

Too soon my time will surely pass

alone you’ll be but find

your joy and hope and always feel

the love we leave behind

 

 

 

Red Crush – In the Dark 8

I thought perhaps I would turn my hand to a spot of erotic fiction…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.

 

Love’s passions red

Thoughts in his head

Lies in death’s bed

And scheme

 

Unknown, she sleeps

through curtains peeps

and inslide creeps

She’ll scream

 

Calls stifled still

Exerts his will

And drinks his fill

She’ll dream

 

And drifts to black

No turning back

Now life she’ll lack

His queen

 

 

 

Through his mothers eyes

She watches, he, a picture of his father

beautiful and flawed

forever and always in her heart

protected, loved , adored

She watches, he, a picture of his father

beautiful and flawed

forever and always in her heart

protected, loved , adored

 

A world awaits, alone she prepares

first steps, first words, forehead kissed

hand held, knee scraped tears wiped

he – birthdays, Christmas missed

 

Held tight she wishes a life far more

than she can ever give

love overflows, it’s all she has

to pave his way to live

 

And seasons pass, she watches

he grows, eyes bright, unknowing

not realising what he does not have

the scars hidden, unshowing

 

Such pride she wears on tear worn face

a life surrendered without regret

to see him grow from boy to man

though her heart cannot forget

 

the life now passed her by,  in days

each lived but not her own

freely given yet taken too

by the man he has not known

 

 

 

 

 

One more day

Let’s try a little serious shall we…

Okay so I piss about a bit with my blog I realise. If my poems had a ‘Eeeeuuuwww button’ then I am pretty sure it would get pressed more than my likes. I was challenged by Roda – I think that’s what happened – to try a happy ending or two so for this week I will have a crack at a few more pleasant subjects.

At Days close he waits content

to say goodbye and drift to night

and in those moments years rolled back

warm smiles and joy and eyes shine bright

Her warm embrace and tender kiss

and babies cries and laughter sweet

when blankets laid across his knees

worn eyes do close and visions greet

First words, first steps, first dates first kiss

long days dark nights but then

he sees her face and hears her voice

and love’s restored again

And as he slips to dark and rest

a life well lived he sees

of family, love and heart and hearth

life passing like the breeze

And in that moment vivid, clear

old lips whisper and say

each day a treasure I received

farewell, on this last day

Erotic Sentiments – In the Dark 9

I thought perhaps I would turn my hand to a spot of erotic fiction…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.

I thought perhaps I would turn my hand to a spot of erotic fiction for this prompt piece but realised that I would need to be serious and found it rather difficult.

There I am trying to create the right mood for you the reader but before I know it I am throwing in words willy nilly such as throbbing, veined and moist.

“You’re better than that Michael” I tell myself sternly and quickly follow it with a paragraph where I choose to toss in engorged, breathless and arched in quick succession.

“No one needs that, the 50 shades phase has passed” I insist (though Mrs Michael did go to the cinema the other night to watch it) before attempting a scene where a white cotton shirt is ripped asunder exposing a smooth taut chest.

I had to do a spot of research on the matter and by the time I was done my description of the smoothness of the aforementioned chest was such that it made it sound like it was that of a child and I quickly deleted it because no one wants to read about children ripping anything asunder never mind nice cotton shirts.

My browser was also full of dark curly haired fellow looking wistfully into the distance whilst their shirts flapped in the wind.

At this point I am thinking I will give it one last go but I found myself overusing the letter ‘m’ in my ‘mmmmm’ and realised that I had no idea what I was doing, the female in the piece sounded like she had a really bad cold and that not only should I pack it in and go fill the dishwasher or empty the bins but I should delete all trace of the piece entirely just in case one of the kids stumbles upon it.

I really don’t know my vulva from my Volvo and I wouldn’t want tmy boys having to ask why nice Mrs Chambers from number 4 was having her Volvo examined by the postman.  He’s a nice enough chap but not sure he knows much about cars.