A quite flacid husband called Bill
Pleased his wife, took a viagra pill
All night long, how he railed her
Now she walks like a sailor
With her sticky jizz thighs, what a thrill
Especially for you….you know who you are
A quite flacid husband called Bill
Pleased his wife, took a viagra pill
All night long, how he railed her
Now she walks like a sailor
With her sticky jizz thighs, what a thrill
One for the man in your life.
I adore your diminutive penis
My boobs love it when it is between us
And that cum face you make
When I make your knees shake
Happy valentines, from your sweet Venus
Feel free to use this for your significant other..
I will love you with chocolates and flowers
Anal fisting and warm golden showers
Spankings, kisses and hugs
Oral, choking and drugs
And hair stroking for hours and hours
Stick with it…get to the end.
Waiting, like a man at the gallows
I wait and wait, and watch your desperate dance
The chance to leave this place I seek
But this is not my choice, but yours
And time ticks slow as cold seeps in
My coat pulled tight ‘gainst coming night
That perfect refuge still evades
And so you lead me to the dark
On and on, beyond the vale
of day and dusk and all that’s bright
A merry dance, and I must give
My all to follow where I’m sought
I try to fight against the pull
Insisting our time has run out
And beg, please free me from this duty
As slumber calls me slowly home
Just over here, you beckon me
As helpless I can not refuse
This is my lot, my place to be
I beg my dog, please do your poos
AB
My weekly dose of drivel
Alone she stands, a beacon, calling loud into the night
And to her warm embrace she beckons, drawing in with love and light,
Her warmth and tender words, they promise rest and fretless sleep
Through crashing waves, and razor rocks they flood into her keep
Her eyes as dark as deepest seas, upon which they once sailed
Her pallid skin, her blood red lips, the cross on which impailed
They pledge their love and service for the promise of life’s rest
And at last find solace in the embrace of her breast
Until the end of days, beneath the waves, they serve the throne
Lost to the world and those they left that toil the sun, alone
And in her wake they trail as slow she gathers for her store
Until their memories have faded, and at last they are no more
AB
It’s just made up okay, for shits and giggles. Honest. Plus I get to use the dildo bike gif again.
Once a cyclist of note, name of Mike
Big old smile as he peddled his bike
Look of bliss on his face
For the seat he’d replaced
With a dildo, he really did like!
My weekly dose of drivel
She slips her hand, soft, into his and tender does suggest
that had she known him years ago then all would now be best
Sweet promises that seek to mend the things that cause such rot
With shallow smile he nods, and lies, for he believes her not
Like knotted roots, the tangled web of thoughts run deep and wide
And in the dark he chooses what she seeks to coldly hide
For these things make us who we are, and stoic he persists
Lives the ruin he will not give up, that blinds like winter’s mists
Something a bit different today
She slips beneath the silver spray, and into Neptune’s cold embrace
A tidy pile left in the sand, and not a thing left out of place
The rancid rot of time, well hid, laid bare where lovers hands caress
And in the waves, they tumble, she succumbs to false confess
She counts the life she lived, the lovers lost, and feels the dark
Until his siren beckons, turn away, and to his call she harks
And setting sun lights up the crashing waves like fire’s embers
She looks, forlorn, as hand in hand he leads, but she remembers
But it’s too late, their vows are said, she reigns and rules alone
In inky depths, her seaweed crown on bleached white, flesh stripped bone
Just something about bleached anus’
This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here. These used to be 101 words. Sometimes they still are. Sometimes not. They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time. Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.
“Another,” Balthazar demanded, and slammed his glass on the bar top. His wings bristled, and the dim light glinted on the tips of his horns as he looked around the room. Small wisps of smoke drifted from his nostrils and his thin lips curled up in a sneer, revealing his sharp, white teeth.
A tall, pale faced creature with skin like dirty snow wandered across, his deep blue eyes flashed as he poured a thick, dark liquid into the waiting glass.
“Long day?” He asked. The barkeep pushed the cork back into the bottle, wiped the bar top habitually, and then flicked the cloth so that it sat across his shoulder.
Balthazar snarled and downed the drink, again loudly demanding a refill.
“You sure about that?” Asked the tall, pale creature. “This stuff don’t come cheap you know, and ….”
“Another!” Balthazar roared.
The glass was quickly filled, and then filled once more. The rage in Balthazar’s eyes dimmed slightly with each consumed glass, and by the time he had finished two more he placed the empty vessel quietly.
“Yes,” he said, letting out a long deep sigh.
“Yes, what?” the bar keep asked puzzled, as he offered the bottle once more.
Balthazar placed a hand over the glass and shook his head.
“Long day. You asked me if it had been a long day. Yes, yes it has. Really long.”
The barkeep nodded and placed the bottle back on the shelf behind him as Balthazar continued.
“It’s people you see,” he said, the wisps of smoke now gone and the fire in his eyes dimmed. “You know how it is with them right?” He didn’t, however, wait to find out whether the barkeep did, or did not, know how it was with people and continued. “Every day I get up, clean my horns, sharpen my teeth and ensure that my skin suit is clean and presentable. I’m never late, I stay late, and I give my very best efforts. You know what that gets me?” He asked.
A wide mouthed, bat like creature with ears where its eyes ought to be and eyes where its ears ought to be settled on the bar next to him and looked him up and down. It then caught the attention of the barkeep and asked for two vodka martinis to be delivered to table seven.
“You know how it is with people right?” Balthazar asked it, “you know how they are I’m sure.”
The bat like animal flashed a smile with its ear-eyes and gave Balthazar what he took be a confirmatory nod, and flittered off towards the back of the room where what appeared to be a couple of snakes were having a loud disagreement over the existential power of apple imagery in medieval architecture.
“You see, he knows,” Balthazar said, “he knows what they’re like.”
The barkeep was used to this sort of thing, he tended to see it a lot as the week wore on. First thing Monday morning everyone was filled with the optimism of the week ahead, the potential for pain and suffering, the chance to make a real difference and bring proper misery and sadness. But by Wednesday he could see the doubt seeping in as the long hours took their toll. By Friday the stark reality would dawn on them and they would flock to the bar after work with a pocket full of silver and a big old dose of reality.
“People,” the barkeep said knowingly.
“Exactly!” Proclaimed Balthazar. “See, you get it too. There is nothing that we can do to them that they probably haven’t already done to each other.” He seemed invigorated in finding someone who understood his plight. “Do you know, that just this morning I was doing some anal stretching on a school teacher from California, and do you knwo what she said?”
The barkeep shook his head.
“Bleach. She asked for bleach. Said she wanted to look her best and was wondering if she might be able to put a picture of it it on the ‘gram becasue she was pretty sure none of her friends would believe it.” Balthazar took a deep breath to compose himself, visibly shaking. “Do you know how hard it is to find bleachg down here?” He continued. “But even when I did find some it really wasn’t as if it was my idea, so where’s the joy in that. I had intended to start with gaping and progreess from there. I mean most people finish at gaping, so I set a high bar, professionally speaking. But I just couldn’t relly get into it. She stole all the pleasure from it. Left me with this horrible empty feeling right in the pit of my stomach.”
“That’s out of order,” said the barkeep as he signalled the bat like creature to fetch the drinks for table seven.
“Damn right it is, I had to desecrate a couple of yoga teachers to try and make myself feel better about things, but sometimes even defiled yoga teachers aren’t enough to make you feel good.”
“So what did you do?” The barkeep asked as Balthazar motioned to his empty glass once more.
“2 million likes for a bleached stretched anus,” Balthazar replied, his shoulders slumped and his eyes dark with disappointment. “Two million. I swear, we really should have just left them to it. They dont take anything seriously, and nothing we can do can make it any worse up here…fuck them all.”
Another from the drafts that I cant really remember writing…I should refine it and make it rhyme properly…but I cannot be arsed.
I would kiss your lips a thousand times
But god, just imagine the chafing
and they’d get really scabby
and you’d get quite crabby
And you’d need lip creams and balm and look awful
___
So I’ll shout your name from the roof tops
But not late, we have neighbours you know
Though I could likely fall
So perhaps I’ll just call
Out your name from the top bedroom window
___
Hey I could climb the worlds highest mountain
Swim deep oceans to declare our passion
But heights scare me to bits
And cold water is shit
Is there anything else that’s in fashion?
___
Ooh a poem would show my devotion
And some flowers and choccies and wine
But you’re quite fat already
And drink lots, take it steady
And your reading age is not much more than nine
___
Oh how I love thee, let me count the ways
Let me woo, swoon and bask in your beauty
(once you’ve put on your make up)
Then perhaps we can make up
Cos I quite like your tits and round booty
Found this in my drafts. Don’t have a clue what the devil it’s about. Random words mostly I think…
Do your think of him those days
Where dark thoughts senses suffocate
That joy I watched drain from your face
As life and lies cruel whispers told
Your many secrets slow, unfold
Fools promises and could have been’s
you would not keep them from your door
Instead with smile forced on your face
Arms wide you beckoned them inside
Embraced as they to you heart lied
Promises, so sickly sweet
Coarse noose of lies, soft velvet hopes
’till dangling feet dance all alone
Blinded, stumbling, on and on
And hope, and faith, bright eyes now gone
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
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 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
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
Blah blah blah…Limerick tomorrow I promise…
Your name is always on my lips, the fairest treat
The furnace heat, life’s love, stars intersection
We walk the chapel built of breathless whispers
Spend summer days in golden fields, love’s raw reflection, soft flesh yields
Rush headlong to oblivion, with not a care and no retreat.
And orchards ripe and bursting full, we lay beneath their shade
This promise made, devoured like sweetest fruits, head on my chest
Full moon nights, desires willed, of yearning filled
Are all I need, surrendering to secrets spilled
And winter’s icy fingers wrapped tight around my heart do fade
And now amongst the living do I find a way each day
The path to stay and memories once so lost I cling to dearly
Love’s winding path home leads so very clearly
To the door, and like before, you wait
I close the gate and know that I am home at last,
Read the word ‘Fluctuate’ somewhere on my reader and it triggered this…
Between the tides he fluctuates
The stir of dreams, the love and hate
seems far too late a pause he takes
And break the silence, then to wait
But echo’s are all that returns
While soul it yearns and passion burns
Like fire, fierce, consumes and turns
Man into cinders, so he learns
To quell the cravings, quiet the hate
Embrace the now, love out of reach
And leaves but footsteps on the beach