A much betrayed woman called Brenda
Her hub banged her sister and friend yeah
Now locked up, doing time
But she really don’t mind
Put his cock and his balls in a blender
Ouchy…
A much betrayed woman called Brenda
Her hub banged her sister and friend yeah
Now locked up, doing time
But she really don’t mind
Put his cock and his balls in a blender
words. mostly…
I remember it quite clearly
Pale sun painting frosted fields
And you at peace, to sadness yields
So many, loved so dearly
…
Butterscotch sweets in kilner jars
Full house, late nights, your Sunday roast
Full ashtrays I recall the most
What was, now framed like painted flowers
…
And years go by, the memories stronger
Each twisted branch still skyward growing
The things you handed down not knowing
That they would linger, loving, longer
…
And so the sequels spring to life
A library of stories new
And every one because of you
Mother, grandma, sister, wife
words. mostly…
When silver threads creak with first frost
And summer thought in mists are lost
I wonder if you’ll count the cost
Or blindly hide from reason
When nights bleed into shortened days
And stars no longer light your way
So willingly you choose to stray
and blindly protest treason
No one to watch, no one to keep
Your candle burning while you sleep
And memories sink into the deep
Lost in the cold, dark freezing
Your stories ink washed from the page
And meekly without pain or rage
The curtain falls on empty stage
At closing of your season
Dirty. But if you read it out loud in a posh english voice it could almost be poetic I guess…
What once were endless summer days, and tender nights not counted
Sweetest whispers, love unbridled, days drift by embraced
And 69 more ways your soft pink flesh was nightly mounted
And your skin glowed with the blush of love’s seed spilled upon your face
The heart quickened, loins wet, thickened, hair pulled, lost souls intertwined
Gimp mask, red room, 12 inch pseudo love meat, I am yours and you are mine.
So spent, we lay in sheets soiled with the remnants of our love
we fit like trains into a tunnel, like large hand into small glove
And when no lube can dampen, when blue pills can not revive
Will we shuffle from this mortal coil, our passions still alive
Somewhere far beyond these night time stars that we once watched together,
Shall our memories drift slowly into inky black forever
________________________
Oh come on, it’s saturday, why not do something a little different.
The first 2 lines and the last two are kind of sweet I think.
Happy weekend you cheeky monkeys!
Because it’s Sunday
A Christian chap from Seahouses
Who’s girlfriend with fine ass arouses
For his Lord he resists
Peach bum, perky tits
And exploded all over his trousers
All a bit rhymey but meh, it’ll do
He watches from his window, rain like tears runs down it’s face
Petals fall as summer fades, once golden face now stark and bare
To this cold earth, beneath the sun, they seep into the earth
Beauty lost, like memories, life’s end to once bright birth
From green to gold and amber his life turns with passing seasons
All alone, he waits for something lost, his mind forgets the reasons
Of what was and is no more, faces blur as time slips by
And in a blink like flowers turn to dust, and skies do cry
They mourn for him, the things he once held dear, like him are lost
Like petals, cold, beneath the earth, embraced by winter’s frost
He slips away and fades from thought like breath in winter’s air
When flowers bloom once more nobody knows he is not there.
A kinda poem thingy but not about anything wholly inappropriate
I made for you a garden
From the stars I stole from cloudless skies
And deep within earth’s warm embrace
Sprung forth as tears streamed down your face
And quiet you sat in this place
And waited patiently
Each passing day under the skies
With hope, new shoots turned into bloom
And brightly shine when sunset falls
Until the light like beacon calls
These shards of nightfall, heart enthrals
From shadows setting free
And with the seasons turning, living
Pass full circle, gold to green
Hearts warmed by light unwavering
And beauty bright, sweet savouring
Sweet tears of heaven favouring
Forever comforts thee
It’s something I guess…
A purveyor of decadence, Lionel
Would oft dress in a gimp mask and vinyl
Found it tricky to pick
For he so adored dick
But also loved all things vaginal
Think this could have been better but I need to get the eldest out of bed and go to the tip…Happy Monday!
I tore the pages from the book
that holds the story of our lives
of darker times that might have been
and in their place I wrote these words
my promises to you.
Not to forget each day to live
and love and laugh and treasures mine
to hold most dear and know their worth
and thanks with grateful heart I give
all that I have to you.
When sunset paints with flames of red
the words we wrote on pristine page
We loved though time will pass us by
as stories gather dust upon
life’s shelf where now we lay.
Words and more words and more words still…
Silver wisps of memories
The things that once so brightly shone
Now gone but one alone remains
Which fight the pull of time, refrains
From slipping through soft fingers
Clasped in prayer, in silence lingers
On that vision of her beauty, sweet
Her countenance so kind and meek
And one last time her forehead kisses
Always misses all they were and sunset burns
Like furnace flames
He smiles
And says goodbye
One about ‘tucking’. I write mostly from a place of ignorance. Sorry.
There was a trans fellow called Betty
Who when ‘tucked’ would get sticky and sweaty
What a frightful affair
When at last it got air
Pale and sickly like day old spaghetti
Words and more words and more words still…
Time steals the sweetest memories
Those moments where we wished that she’d
Halt in her tracks and carve emotions into stone
Forever monuments to love
Where, in later days we’d celebrate
That which was and now still is
But cruel she marches unrelenting
And halo slips, becomes a noose around the neck
As envy’s eye looks greedily on summers long ago
These barren lands, unfertile soil where only sadness grow
And dreams they whither on the vine as winter steals
The very breath that spoke you name
These lips once red now bare the pale of death’s caress
Eyes closed I fall to his embrace
and beg he take these memories
And cast them into the abyss
Not sure what I was going for here. I started something, inspired by a song, then painted the bathroom so lost my train of thought…
In the dark stripped bare and cold
Drowning in things handed down
These rags, the curses, bloodied lips
Sins of the father, chains that bind
And shadows in the doorway watch.
Each blow, each bruise and words that cut
far deeper into sun bleached bone
than sharpened blade could ever do.
Dark lullaby and icy kiss goodnight
The hooded shame chokes, burns and blinds
But from outside wide smiles deceive
And shackled, shuffle silent by
Oh it will do. Hardly great but these are tough times…;)
Once a chap who was self isolated
Day and night himself hard violated
He developed a cough
And his penis fell off
And his sphincter was annihalated
Words and more words and more words still…
Memories in monochrome, sweet youth now seems so far away
and slowly memories ebb and flow, sandcastles crumbling in the tide
And walls fall down she cannot hide
Heart’s windows closed, doors locked, inside
She waits, so frail, her mind to long lost days does stray
Remembering, those rainbow days
Grey swept away, bright lights so shine
And lovers limbs do sweet entwine
Once more taste embrace divine
And hand in hand he finds her there in summer’s perfumed haze.
And so he leads her, barefoot, laughing, youth restored
Down paths familiar painted through the years
In love and joy, devoid of fears
And through the door, there no more tears
At last she rests, home, much loved and adored
Go on, treat yourself
An oft aroused lass from Aruba
Had a vagina shaped like a tuba
Should the wind blow just right
It would play silent night
And in bed there was no need to lube her.
It’s Friday. Why not.
A food fetish fan from Bermuda
Had a wife but he wanted one ruder
Who’d rub guac on his nips
Place asparagus tips
Deep inside him then smear him in gouda.
Aren’t they the best type?
Forgetful chap who was inclined
To place objects inside his behind
Ended up youtube famous
For his cavernous anus
Left him gaping, but he did not mind
Ooh excuse me
A legumephile lady of Queens
Just could not get enough of the beans
Kidney, Fava and more so
Haricot, Black and Pinto
Flatulent, blew a hole in her jeans.
Friday! Result!
Lonely fellow from North of the border
Bought his ladies online, made to order
Silicone lips and tits
Plastic nipples and clits
arse cheeks plump, narrow waist, shoulders broader
Friday! Result!
Once a devoted girfriend named Julie
Vowed to love her beau, madly and truly
But when out on the town
Knickers soon were pulled down
On the vodka quite wild and unruly.
Not to everyone’s liking I am sure.
There once was a fellow called Jesus
Connoisseur of the finest of cheeses
“Bring some Brie” he’d insist
“I’ll make wine, we’ll get pissed”
Red, white, rose – whatever he pleases.
Well it is Wednesday after all.
A betrayed french wife, Mademoiselle Eiffel
Went to jail, for she used Monsieur’s Rifle
Caught his with her next door
Eating puddings galore
Found him balls deep in her Sunday trifle
Wholly inappropriate for a Tuesday. Actually scratch that. perfectly suited for a Tuesday.
Christian couple in love, most appealing
Was desire but they fought it, prayed kneeling
Waited patient ’till wed
In Christ’s love took to bed
Balls so blue when he came, hit the ceiling.
Let’s have a few of these this week shall we…
Once a fine undertaker named Pete
Had a secret, though kept it discrete
Until caught late one night
Cleaner shaken, the sight
Of him rubbing himself on dead feet.