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!

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!
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.
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
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
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
it’s somethign I guess…well actually not really…meh…
It seems that there are those that will, and I think it’s a farce,
but people (per the internet) do hide things in their arse.
I’m told (though not seen it myself for I share my PC
with kids) so cant research it but if I did I would see
Ripe marrows place in darkest holes, and veges by the barrow
inserted, lubed and with great force, pushed into bottoms narrow.
Digits, midgets, varied widgets placed where sun shines not
a friend of mine vanished a vase when on it she did squat.
This bloke from Scotland, cavernous, spread wide, bent to receive
the contents of Old Nick’s full sack when drunk on Christmas eve.
And I did read a tale of woe of one lad who took pleasure
dressed as a pirate placed gold coins inside like hidden treasure.
A story told of one young chap one night when feeling fruity
filed down a tooth bruch, electric type, to place inside his booty.
But not outdone a lass invited several chaps to sample
her gaping hole but it turned out that just the two were ample…
Things stuck inside, spread open wide, or isides falling out
each to their own, and when at home, I really have no doubt
that there are those who cant recall, have lost things, or forgotten
I might suggest they might just be lodged inside your bottom.
These battles played out on the streets….
These battles played out on the streets
For heart and soul, beneath the sheets
And words they spill, lips full of rage
And like blood spill onto the page.
My now
Your then
Our what might be
And blinded, clambering to see
The path not taken, setting free
And time will tell, and roads will wind
As shrouded pasts are left behind
This evermore
That what could be
Those sweetest of tomorrow’s
Like stars beyond my reach …
Like stars beyond my reach those thoughts of you
slip through my fingers to my feet
head bowed faintest recollections blown like sand
I’m left here on this precipice.
Here in the darkness looking out
and fire burns on horizon distant
blood red, golden on my face
One last time wind whispers your name
One of these?
At night he whispers sweet reminders
of how it felt, quite swept along.
Returning tides compelled, jump in,
strong currents have their way.
And beaches red at sunset burn
as she returns to land once more
and on her lips his promise lingers
salt stained on her skin.
Until tides turn and whispers fade,
sepia tinged her longing rests
and deep she sighs, sea at her back
and smiling turns away.
Okay so perhaps a work in progress title but it got your attention I am sure. Just in one of those moods 🙂 Sorry. Kinda.
Were I at last to recognise the thing that we became
The thorny, bristling, spite filled rage
That spews from me onto the page
And like so many through the age,
At last I give it name.
My not again, my what the fuck, my who the hell was I
Quite compromised, unrecognised
And like those fools, philosophised
That I was there, just drowned by lies
And watched as life passed by.
And then, unshackled, this my thought
Regret no more, not turning back
And craving not the things I lack
now place your lips upon my sack
And kiss them like you ought.
Come on, were all a bit too serious sometimes
In sleep I kiss your lips now cold
and miss the hand I used to hold
but god you made me feel so old
I’m kind of glad you’re dead
Heart’s drift apart when rent asunder
but can you blame you blame me there’s no wonder
from day one it was quite a blunder
should have listened to what friends said.
Mouth full of lies and legs oft parted
and that time you shit when farted
Inside I smiled when you were carted
to final slumber’s bed.
On and on such endless droning
pretty mouth but so much moaning
okay so I quite liked you groaning
when you were giving head.
But time moves on and people change
yeah yeah I know I may be strange
but jesus you were most deranged
and filled us all with dread.
So fare thee well, you did expire
now consumed with roaring fire
toast marshmellow on funeral pyre
I’m glad you’re gone, ’nuff said.
Just one of these things.
This cliff top wreckage of the place that once our hope protected
I stand and feel the chill of night as shadows slowly lengthen
And as my thoughts are drawn to betrayed memory of promise
Those icy fingers of regret squeeze tight and leave me gasping.
No night, no stars, no restless slumber
Horizon sparks and crackles
Into this tempest I will run
And scream your name one final time.
Lungs bursting, eyes red as the blood
That thunders through these veins
The words are lost as rising waters
Drag your ghost to inky depths.
And on that beach as morning comes and calm creeps with the sun
I turn , soft waves lap at my feet, and look back one last time
There in that place where love once blossomed nothing now remains
Your name now lost upon the breeze that blows upon my face.
Just one of these things.
When skies turn grey, horizon’s shrouded
Compass bearing wayward, lost
I find my comfort wrapped in you
and threads that bind, knit tight.
Drawing close such warmth I find
life’s colours woven through this cloth
though mended, frayed, it’s patched with love
and never out of reach.
This love, this life, our ever more
through storms that roar and rage,
my shelter until morning comes
and sun shines on my face.
Words perhaps? Not Rhymey ones. The other type.
Lips like fire set worlds ablaze
and reckless how they run
those crimson tongues charred ruins make
and promise they turn to ash.
In sweat soaked sheets they smoulder still
the merest spark brings it to life
and lies once more sing sweetest strain
until burnt out flame fades to black.
Fancy one of these?
Mouth dry, full of regrets and lies
and fading dreams of what we had
they fill my mind when eyes I close
and raging ‘gainst the lovers sunset
I thrash between these sullied sheets.
There in the distance, silhouette,
you walk where once we lingered long
into the night and then slip softly
hand in hand
into someone else’s forever.
I’ve had flu all week so not written anything and this is the best I can muster.
Backs packed and gloom descending
as the weekend nears it’s ending
‘Monday blues’ on twitter trending
and I curse that I have not yet won the lottery.
For Monday, it sucks balls you see
the thought of it quite bothers me
I’ve felt this way since after tea
and I curse that I have never played the lottery.
More Sunday word vomit
One final sleep
‘neath blankets cold
of eath and clay and stone.
And to my end I walk at last
no evermore, or well lived past
and to the darkness wide and vast
I enter all alone.
And you shall be my final thought
my life, my hopes, my joy
remember me, the things I wrought,
my kind and loving boy.
More Sunday word vomit
Were I to hear you call my name
and turn, to see you one more time,
a souvenir, momento of what was.
A keepsake of sweet memories
I would commit to not forget
or reckless scant attention pay
for fear of losing priceless gift.
No holding back, no front’s, no walls
this truth I’ve kept for far too long
and though again you walk away
unburdened watch you leave…
More word vomit
When old and grey still close I keep
those memories dear to my heart
and ‘fore I walk to final sleep
and lonely paths to then depart
A final time I will relive and tender recollect
each smile you gifted though I often sadly did neglect
your light by which I found my way and through the dark did chart.
Love generous and without cost
so freely gave and not repaid
and eager how I ate my fill
as sunset sank beyond that hill
were dreams way back were made.
And so at last, though late I know
you lie as pale and cold as snow
and how I wish I had the time
of days were you were always mine
Stupid, childish, purile and ridiculous. Meh, least I’m not fiddlign with kids or beatign my wife or listenign to K-Pop.
Hey week, yeah you, yes over here
it’s over now and how I fear
I need to let you know you suck
and right now I don’t give a fuck
about how monday made me blue
Tuesday, wednesday, Thursday too
cos Friday my balls oft caress
and leaves my trousers quite the mess
and saturday, well that’s hard core
my skimpy clad foul mouthed hot whore
Sunday will spoon me, there’s no lack
I feel it’s love pressed to my back
You did your best and hey that’s fine
something something 69!