Heard you slipped on some lube near the hearth
And your penis, my god, broke in half
Bent at 90 degrees
it’s quite tricky to please
Here’s a card, I tried hard not to laugh
In case you know someone who broke their dick and got them a card but were unsure what to write
Heard you slipped on some lube near the hearth
And your penis, my god, broke in half
Bent at 90 degrees
it’s quite tricky to please
Here’s a card, I tried hard not to laugh
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!
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.
Enjoy. Or don’t. But secretly do.
A vet from round our way quite smitten
By felines, especially kittens
He made two into hats
And a load into spats
Then the leftovers made into mittens
And with a religious theme
A fan of the clan, angry man
Had a son, tiny hands, orange tan
Lost a landslide election
Inspired insurrection
Lost his shit, got himself twitter ban
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
Merry Christmas, or happy whatever you celebrate …have a lovely day!
A purveyor of filth, Nicky Klaus
A whoremonger, purveyor of whores
With his huge bulging sack
And his craving for crack
And a leather clad spank on all fours
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
Just because why not
A God fearing couple were waiting
Until marriage before consummating
He prayed “Give me strength please”!
And he fell to his knees
His unused testicles fast inflating
One about boobs
A large breasted hooker, Celeste
Did declare that her breasts were the best
Local chaps were invited
And the prospect excited
To put her proud claims to the test
Why the devil not eh.
Devout young chap met each Thursday
Buxom wench who would service the clergy
She would take off her nickers
For Priests, Imams and Vicars
And enable arousing liturgy
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
Bloody hell that’s nasty
A drug loving hooker, Petunia
For five bucks, with a strap on, would ruin ya’
But worse, her Sister Beth
Would gave hand jobs for meth
Take a dump on your chest and then spoon ya
Sorry. Hope youre not having breakfast…
A horny young lad from Korea
69ing, though had diahhorea
In the midst of the fun
Felt a stir in his bum
Filled his partners mouth, nose, eyes and ear
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
One about butt hair
A hirsuite young temptress from Dover
You would see each time she was bent over
Not only her thong
But butt hair, thick and log
Which she styled in a fancy comb over
One about leaking boobs
Breast feeding mum, Julie pickles
Had huge boobs but quite lopsided nipples
Left one gushed like a geyser
Gave her baby a seizure
But the right, rather small, only trickles
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”
.
.
.
Okay I know, ity doesn’t rhyme š
Happy Monday!
Count your blessings!
Hygienically challenged from Lincoln
was a lass who’s front bottom was stinkin’
She neglected to wash
men would try, but oh gosh
she would only get laid if they’re drinkin’
Well it has been a while I guess, I’m a tad rusty
A faecal historian from Goole
Fascinated by fine bygone stool
How he took such delight
In a large corpalite
And if corn filled it made him quite drool
Well it’s Friday here…
A lewd husband, bum obsessed, inventive
Begged his wife for love, back door, incentive
Of her beauty he’d gush
For a crack at her tush
She’d not budge, no way, anal retentive
Shall we? It involves body parts and a selection of greases
A stammering tart Ā from Calcutta
Rubbed her bottom with handfuls of butter
Smeared oils on her tum
Grease upon her front bum
āCh-Ch-Cheaper than lubeā, she would stutter