Crisp autumnal days
Filled with rage out on the streets
Dog shit ‘neath the leaves
Another one of these. Art all by my fair hands!
Crisp autumnal days
Filled with rage out on the streets
Dog shit ‘neath the leaves
Shall we? Been sooo long since we did.
Autumn Leaves appear
At last Moobs will stop sweating
Fattie hates summer
A broad shouldered lady called Brenda
Big old hands, hairy arms, legs quite slender
Wispy beard and top lip
Quite full breast, curvy hip
Size 12 feet, hard to classify gender
Shall we? It involves body parts and a selection of greases
A stammering tart from Calcutta
Rubbed her bottom with handfuls of butter
Smeared oils on her tum
Grease upon her front bum
“Ch-Ch-Cheaper than lube”, she would stutter
Well it’s Friday here…
Loose bowelled Hermaphrodite from Nantucket
Had a penis so yeah, she would suck it
He would caress her clit
Explode cum, squirt, n shit
Near the bed kept a mop and a bucket
Okay so I realise that that first line hardly flows and is somewhat jarring but how often will I ever get to use the phrase “Loose bowelled hermaphrodite”. And I wanted to combine with the limerick classic location of Nantucket which I seldom use. Just let me have my moment okay 😊
It’s that time again
A young cow hand alone on the range
Felt a stirring, peculiar and strange
Watched steers evening till dawn
Loved their rumps, and the horn
Well lets just say that it made him deranged
Just to get things started again
Hot curry fan who too loved basmati
Rice, samosas and tasty chapati
He’d add chili’s galore
Declared “Please, please add some more”
Left his anus on fire and quite tatty
Really rather vile
Nasty mortician hailed from Brasilia
Spent his nights sweating hard, necrophilia
When suggested instead
Go for live not the dead
He protested “Ive not heard a thing sillier.”
The yin to my poetic yang…
Friend of mine met a lass from Bermuda
He pursued, flowers, food, woo’d and screwed her
But within ’bout a week
Realised, quite the freak,
As she cried, strap-on lubed, “Let’s get ruder!”
Because why the devil not eh 🙂
Friend of mine met this lass, not realising
That her bum was quite uncompromising
During candle lit sex
Massive fart, and then next
thing her sphincter’s on fire, unsurprising
As seasons turn and memories fadeonce vivid, love like mist gives wayto vistas new and fresh caresswhere once we lay in summer sun.
As seasons turn and memories fade
once vivid, love like mist gives way
to vistas new and fresh caress
where once we lay in summer sun.
Those vows, heartfelt, made evermore
so easily spilled from our lips
where kisses soft and sighs so sweet
such promises we swear to keep.
Such declarations sworn that I would be the first,
and last thought every day
and undertakings to not fail
loves lustre binding tarnished truths.
Through tests and trials and seperation
Face lined, time urges to recall
Let slip for blurred my recollection
will you, like me, forget at last…
A bit gross tbh…
Once a vet with unhygienic habits
Would enjoy gerbils, squirrels and rabbits
She got pink eye, and worse
Traumatised a poor nurse
As her bottom it writhed with plump maggots.
Sorry…the last line occurred to me and made me gag/chuckle so U went with it…
Where once we lay
Do your think of me those days
Where dark thoughts senses suffocate
That joy I watched drain from your face
As life and lies cruel whispers told
Fools promises and could have beens
I could not keep them from your door
Arms wide you beckoned them inside
Smiles melancholy, sickly sweet
Coarse noose of lies, soft velvet hopes
Blinded, stumbling, on and on
And to this end inevitable
But now alone where once we lay
Thursday baby yeah!
Lonely farmer confessed one day when boozing
To arousal when livestock perusing
He would moan in his sleep
Dreams of round bottomed sheep
Mornigns wake up quite sticky and oozing
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.
Seems I wrote one…
You can read about the WHY here…but it’s out there. 300 of my finest limericks. Currently trending at number 359 in the limericks category on Amazon!
After a few people have read it I am probably about ready to admit I am kinda proud of it now. 🙂
Paperback in the UK is here
And in the US here
There are ebook versions too.
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.
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
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.
You’d think I would have given up by now wouldn’t you…
Once this bloke I know works in a kitchen
Sausage got his aroused, he was itching
For a night of rough sex
But by morn was most vexed
As his anus was torn and needs stitching.
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.
A rude one about a woman and her need for a particularly large penis.
A cavernous lass, quite pedantic
who insisted on cocks most gigantic
No nine inchers for her
(unless girth) she don’t care
Only upwards of twelve get her frantic
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.
Though chasms divide
Hearts long, sweet caress do crave
Such needs unfulfilled
A limerick for you
Friend of mine tells of this chap she dated
Whos bum play need could not be sated
She would spend hours, days, weeks
Hard at work ‘twixt his cheeks
Soiled the bed when he ejaculated