Another day another limerick.
This week…The lunchtime limerick subject will be desire or something kind of inappropriate.
A suicide bomber names Bert
So frustrated, his testicles hurt
Blew himself into three
For the virgins you see
He was promised – tall, short, round and pert
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I set myself a challenge this week…
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Image courtesy of me
I will admit, pressing the like button on things quite often causes me some consternation
I will admit, pressing the like button on things quite often causes me some consternation, especially if it is something sad. I want to support and encourage, please do not get me wrong, but it often leaves me feeling rather uneasy.
I am quite sure that it would not be taken this way, but I recall feeling most conflicted recently when a Facebook acquaintance posted that he had cancer but was determined to fight it. I wanted to applaud his resolve but would not want to give a big thumbs to his loss of a testicle in the same way I would if someone had posted a video of a puppy falling over in a particularly cute way. How can I like just part of it?
But beware, the risk runs deeper and you never quite know how your like might be interpreted. My wife recently liked an article entitled “Child molesters face internet crack down”, and when I first saw it fleetingly it was somewhat truncated and all I saw was “Mrs Michael likes Childmolesters…”
What if the article had been “Big cock fighting ring smashed wide open” or “Many men now using public transport”. How would I have felt then?
What if I was to like a news article which spoke of the injustice of being unfairly accused of a crime you did not commit entitled “Being fingered by a snitch ruined my life”. I think it is most sad that this reservation that consumes me recently prevented me from expressing my thanks for the great work the police in America after reading an online article entitled “Rape and murder incidents on the decline in New York”.
Perhaps I should just leave a nice comment or send a card…
More things from my brain?
Another day another limerick.
This week…The lunchtime limerick subject will be desire or something kind of inappropriate.
Celibate, destined to be
Betrothed and in marriage set free
But it came to an end
When he banged her best friend
And said “join us babe, let’s make it three”
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I set myself a challenge this week…
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Image courtesy of me
You know the drill. 2 Words, haiku, go!
You know the drill. 2 Words, haiku, go!
Thanks to TJ and his fab prompts!
She feels the earth move
Lost in passion sweet embrace
Whirlwind, take cover!
Obvious wasn’t it.
Whirlwind one night stand
Symptoms indicate it’s crabs
right back down to earth
I know, uncalled for.
You reap the whirlwind
Emilio Estevez rocks!
Best western on earth
You never saw that coming though did you. Emilio Estevez in a haiku :). Can you name the western?
More shenanigans?
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge
Another day another limerick.
On being someone’s prison wife…
A posh boy addicted to coke
Stole a car and ran over a bloke
When the cops found him out
“My dads rich” he did shout
pretty mouth like his, jail is no joke
Happy Sunday!
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Fatties in space returns but not quite as you might have wanted.
You really should read this first before proceeding, but you don’t have to – it will just make more sense if you do..I am not ready for the full story but thought I would start exploring story lines through the medium of poetry.
It’s a tale of the round, and the girthy who found
a real love, one that’s true , one that’s strong
and the passion they share, but they’re rather aware
that they just cannot ‘go’ for that long.
For rotund they both are and alas the pair far
From in shape, ‘less that shape is a ball
He has always been big from when he was a kid
And she got real fat after a fall
So both desperate to please one another and tease
In the bedroom they try to delight
So as well as whipped cream for this sexy young team
Nacho cheese and choc pudding tonight
But they try none the less, she fits into a dress
Far too small for a gal of her size
but he gazes with love, says “it fits like a glove”
Then devours her like burger and fries
He heaves up his full frame, and she calls out his name
legs akimbo his hands on her hips
says “I fancy some kink, here what do you think?”
and eats onion rings from her nips
But before it begins pudding still on his chins
and the nacho cheese on her top lip
his legs started to cramp and she’s barely got damp
he tries hard but he’s losing his grip
“That’s enough” she cries out, “I do not want to shout
But I’ve needs and I need to be drilled”
So she books them a flight, taking off the next night
On the love ship, she will be fulfilled
For it heads into space at a jolly quick pace
They’ll be freed of this gravity curse
Yes it cost all they’ve saved, but they’re feeling depraved
And she wants to dress up as a nurse
So next time I will tell, and use words such as swell
And engorge and perhaps Ill use thrust
And Ill tell a bit more and you might just adore
The next verse in this tale of fat lust
More stuff? No? I understand…
Another day another limerick.
Okay, enough offending people. Back to life and stuff…
A cheeky young fellow from Rhyll
Thought his girlfriend was still on the pill
shed forgotten to take
What a costly mistake
Now they’re 18 with twins, what a thrill
Tomorrow…something else
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
More haiku, and today I will be using the phrase “Dead hobo doorway”
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous.
The snap of the glove
Not completely unpleasant
Prostate checked out fine
Left his phone unlocked
Wife browses the internet
Sweating profusely
Waves crash like thunder
grey skies, cold waters, time flies
Makes me need a wee
Red dress and pale skin
Heads turn, hearts race, open mouthed
Wardrobe malfunction
Cold blue winter skies
Crisp snow covers city streets
Dead hobo doorway
More stuff from my brain meat…
Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge
Deep and insightfully insightfulnessness
Another day another limerick.
One last one I think, as if I haven’t offended enough people already this week.
A Jewish lass, Emily fisk
put her eternal life greatly at risk
with shrimp mussels and cod
she’d offended her god
Now each day she eats hot lobster bisque
Bit ropey but it’ll do…
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another day another limerick.
Continue my limericks on the fall from grace…
A Hindu lass hailing from Neath
caused her family much heartache and grief
and dishonour and shame
to the family name
As she sneakily gorged on roast beef
Back tomorrow with one last one I think
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
… I had suggested, and I thought quite wittily, that she fetch me a sandwich and a nice cup of tea …
I am just reposting this so I don’t lose it. It was my first ever post less than 3 months ago but I really want to use that post as my blog intro and for the life of me I cannot work out how to do that so I am rehousing this one. Sorry to clog up your feed with it.
Michael
I have never enjoyed Tuesdays. Looking back at the significant moments in my life I am pretty certain that were they plotted on a chart of some description – perhaps a rather nice exploded pie chart – not one of those milestones would appear after a Monday but before a Wednesday.
I recall quite clearly my first kiss and it was on a Friday afternoon in late summer, as far from Tuesday as one might hope to get. My children were most definitely not Tuesday babies, preferring instead to squeeze their way into the work on a Wednesdays and Friday respectively and I married for the first time on a glorious Saturday in July and the second time it was a rather bleak Friday afternoon in March. I could attempt to find a milestone moment on a Tuesday but I shall not because there simply aren’t any. Of that I am certain. I do not, therefore, hold out a great deal of hope as I put pen to paper, commencing with it as I am on a Tuesday evening in early July.
Negative it may well seem, and perhaps I would agree that It is hardly the attitude with which to embark on any new endeavour, but such is my outlook as I sit here in the darkness typing. “So why type?” I hear you ask. Well the answer to that is rather quite simple. My wife suggested it might help me unburden myself and provide me an outlet for things inside that would well be far better out and perhaps prove a route to obtaining a positivity which I apparently quite often lack. I had suggested, and I thought quite wittily, that she fetch me a sandwich and a nice cup of tea which I was also lacking at that precise moment in time – but I received only one of her special withering looks and spent a rather uncomfortable evening in the spare bedroom – sandwichless and parched.
Whilst I make no assertions that this is in fact anything other than late night ramblings, were I to consider this something more poetic and meaningful then as creative journeys go this is simply a first step. Perhaps the journey has not yet begun and this is actually only the packing of a small overnight bag. If this is the only thing I ever write then it could actually be the metaphorical equivalent of picking up an exotically illustrated brochure from the travel agents which I ended up leaving on the bus home and then deciding that actually I won’t go abroad this year and will instead potter around the house and maybe build a small wall in the garden.
Not that we have a travel agents. That closed down when the rift opened. As did most things around here. If there is one thing that I am certain of it is the fact that unless the univers decides to undo that which it has done then at no time soon will I be packing a bag – whether overnight or otherwise – to go anywhere because there simply is no longer anywhere to go to.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tea/
Here we go again. I am going to be serious this week. Feel my haiku!
Here we go again. I am going to be serious this week. Feel my haiku! Thanks as ever to Colleen for her prompts. Check her blog out out here.
This weeks words are Gift and Song.
Intoxicating, lost
in the heady gift of song
melting to her voice
or maybe
thanks, the gift of song
an itunes voucher from gran
My phone’s an android
And back to serious
Song bird, gilded cage
Trapped, craving the blue expanse
I gift her freedom
Then back to silly, using Serenade instead of song
She smiles, crimson cheeks
He serenades from below
Dad’s Chamber pot thrown
And one last Serious one
truly you’re a gift
you fill my heart with such song
My children my life
Ok ok one last silly one, for balance…
other worldly voice
Children crying dogs howling
clown under your bed
Think that’s quite enough for one week…
More shenanigans?
More miserable and inappropriate limericks – Not for the kiddies
End of days #writephoto challenge
Another day another limerick.
On the matter of losing one’s faith…continued
A Muslim chap hailing from York
had a secretive yearning for pork
so he gave up the life
shaved, de-shrouded his wife
gorging bacon and beans with a spork.
Tomorrow there will be beef…
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another day another limerick.
On losing one’s faith.
A handsome poor priest name of Chad
Found that boobies they made him most glad
So he gave up the life
Found a super hot wife
With big lips, curvy hips and rich dad
Tomorrow…something about Pork…
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another week another Haiku challenge which I do rather enjoy. this week the words to use are TOUCH and MISS. I might try a few things.
Another week another Haiku challenge which I do rather enjoy. this week the words to use are TOUCH and MISS. I might try a few things.
How about a 3-5-3 haiku to start.
You left me
How I miss your touch
I hate you
Okay, now the good old 5-7-5. Perhaps a variation on the first.
How I miss your touch
Taliban cut your hands off
your hooks freak me out
Tanka perhaps, as a variation on the previous piece?
How I miss your touch
Taliban cut your hands off
your hooks freak me out
Up a bit, now left a bit
right there that’s it now scratch hard
Another day another limerick.
It was suggested I do some saccharin sweet limericks…Ill give it a try I guess. Feels a bit weird to be honest.
To my children
Each morning I look at your smiles
even though you both put us through trials
how your mother she bore you
I simply adore you
so does mum though you did give her piles
that could be a hallmark moment!
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
In England they were chopping off peoples heads for not liking the right type of Jesus…
Turn on the television and you might think it was the end of the world. I don’t care for religion but know plenty for whom it is most fulfilling and some of them seem rather excited by the prospect of it being the end of days and disappearing into the clouds.
Theres that orange American maniac picking a scrap with that quite ludicrous Korean buffoon, we have terrorists running amok with a new story of some sort of attack in London every few weeks and there are storms with rather unusual names bearing down on one place or another whenever I choose to pay attention to the news.
So, this got me to thinking – is it now really worse than it ever was or have things always been this way? I figured the best way to answer this was some research and a considered response, and then I changed my mind almost immediately and decided to base this whole piece on conjecture and supposition.
So – what conclusion did I come to I don’t hear you ask. Well, I think mostly no, it isn’t worse that it ever was – in fact I think the world’s a better place, or at least no worse that it has been for many a year.
Terrorists? Oh please, we have always had terrorists and people happy to chop off other people’s heads for one god or another. Remember the Crusades? Only difference is that we can live stream if via Facebook now so more people are aware of it.
War? I am certain that anyone who might whip u graph of conflict across the ages would prove my assertion that it’s probably no worse now in terms of one lot of people who want to do something beastly to another lot of people for mostly no reason at all.
Terrible things that happen to children? You think the awful things that have happened to kids only started in the 50’s and 60’s? How do you think your chimneys used to get cleaned? Small hands make light work indeed. Paedophilia isn’t a recent phenomenon I am certain, it’s just out in the open and no longer swept under the carpet.
Global warming? Okay I might give you that one – though if the Donald is to be believed you’re wrong on that point too.
I quite like the world I live in, though I am a white middle aged male living in suburban England. I am not a pot bellied starving African with a face full of flies so I may have to give you that one too though I bet if I wasn’t so lazy I could find evidence that says it’s been pretty horrid in parts of Africa and other places for as long as we can remember. At least now we try and help out and we write catchy Christmas songs to raise money to feed the starving.
People may well be fleeing Africa for the promised land of Europe but it is not that long ago that we were fleeing Europe for America because all of our potatoes had gone a bit manky and in England they were chopping off peoples heads for not liking the right type of Jesus…
And do not get me started on how great smart phones are or the ability to stream Netflix in the depths of inner Mongolia whilst or just how brilliant all the different types of Oreo cookies are.
The world really isn’t all that bad I reckon, and I am pretty sure that if I did some real research I would prove that it used to be pretty rubbish for most people in the last 2000 years. Maybe its now just not as rubbish for more people that it used to be.
I might be wrong but I am too ignorant to ever find out…
More stuff? I have a lot of stuff if you fancy it…
I don’t have a dog called Caper – Daily prompt
Bernard and Charles – Daily prompt
photo courtesy of photoshopper24 @ pixabay
Another day another limerick.
A jolly fat bellied chap , Nick
Christmas Eve of the children got sick
so he went to the pub
had some drinks and some grub
cancelled Christmas next day, what a dick
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another day another limerick.
A limerick, at lunchtime. The clue’s in the title really…
A hillbilly chap, quite obese
one day coverered his sister in grease
from her toes to her head
then he took her to bed
she gave birth to his daughter and niece
maybe another incest based limerick because they fun
I once went to school with a lad
who had a quite young looking dad
turned out his mums lover
was his hot older brother
that’s just wrong, quite disturbing and mad
Anyway, have a good Saturday, not going to be writing much else today got a lot to do…
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another day another limerick.
A limerick, at lunchtime. The clue’s in the title really…
A sturdy young chap, Roger black
Hard liquor each night he knocked back
Young vibrant and bold
But then he got old
Now he’s fat and addicted to crack
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another day another limerick.
A limerick, at lunchtime. The clue’s in the title really…
A cuddly bus driver from cleaves
was beset by a posse of thieves
stole his clothes, bus and phone
left him stranded alone
and his modesty covered by leaves
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Today I bring you not 1, but 3 mediocre haiku in response to TJ’s challenge.
Today I bring you not 1, but 3 mediocre haiku!
Brave window cleaner
Poor man, his heart in his mouth
Curtains left open
Oh heart, fickle friend
open window, thieves sneak in
ransacked and ruined
still my beating heart
eyes the windows on the soul
How I love cliches
Fancy something else?
We unlikely few – An Armitage tangent
https://amaviedecoeurentier.wordpress.com/2017/09/09/tjs-household-haiku-13/
My weekly assault of the gentle art of Japanese poetry
This week i shall attempt a haiku, a tanka and a haibun.
New shiny smart watch
controlling it with my voice
Looking like a knob
Not a bad start. Now lets tanka it up shall we
New shiny smart watch
controlling it with my voice
the king of the geeks!
You know you’re not on Star Trek
Wife looking quite embarrassed
True story…
How about we go full haibun. Well as best as I can muster. Still working on this element. Poem, Prose, Poem for this one.
New shiny smart watch
controlling it with his voice
the king of the geeks!
You know you’re not on Star Trek
Wife looking quite embarrassed
But proud he stands, connected. One with his devices. He is man and he is confident – legs akimbo with hands on hips waiting patiently for her to emerge from the changing rooms and to see him with renewed eyes. He feels taller, chin up, eyes bright as lesser men scurry laden with bags disconnected and alone. But not he, not today. Today is his day, and tonight he will delight her because he is connected and he feels alive.
Candles, wine, music
Children fast asleep in bed
warm breath on her neck
“Bloody hell you’re scratching me,
now you’ve laddered my stockings!”
Well I guess its something…sorry Japan
Here you go …something different.
photo courtesy of Thorr_deichmann at pixabay
Another day another limerick.
A skinny young postman called pat
Who could eat but could never get fat
Pies and cakes, buns and sweets,
vegetables, breads and meats
Had a tapeworm you see, fancy that
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Another day another limerick.
Proof that the limerick form can make sad things less so.
A chubby young fellow called Giles
Got a rather bad case of the piles
Doc said “Don’t be so glum –
pop this cream in your bum,
’till they’re gone just sit carefully and smile
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
Image courtesy of me
Afterwards 