All a bit wrong
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Chap I know met this lass on the net
Got him hot and into quite a sweat
The reveal was a shock
Turned out she had a cock
(And some big hairy balls I would bet
slowly easing myself back into senryu and haiku of a more ridiculous kind.
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
First time sleepover…
Hes on the spectrum you say?
No hes just a shit
More of the same
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a POTUS said “Give them all guns
to the teachers, the kids and the mums
to the poor and the sick
to the old and the thick”
“Oh Bravo” said his NRA chums
Aah that feels better. Not a mention of the seasons or little golden leaf boats or winters icy fingers…
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
He turns from his wife
She cries into her pillow
Turns out he liked men
A real who dunnit…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a widow in black at the grave
For her husband did cry, being brave
But when home she’d rejoice
At the fear in his voice
When with candle his head she did stave
In celebration at the end of a rather serious February
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
So cupid woke in quite a mood
thought, “no bugger this lark!
I’m of a mind to be quite rude”
And out he did embark
In search of those who go unloved
Mischievous now his quest
With arrow true, pulled back, take aim
And shoot to lonely chest
With temper foul, his aim not skew
“Just watch this!” he did gloat
And stuck poor Brian, made him love
Old Barnaby the goat
And Barnaby he quite bewitched
His goat loins filled with lust
For Brian in his corduroys
Man/goat love now a must
And cupid laughed and watched them both
Their eyes and bodies burning
A love affair, a passion lit
A tale of cross breed yearning
And to his home Brian did take
Barnaby, who gladly went
And frantic loving they enjoyed
Until they both were spent
And Cupid clapped his hands with glee
his mission quite achieved
he made poor Brian love that goat
and goat seemed rather pleased
And to this day together still
their love endures quite strong
and they take turns at who’s on top
‘cos Brian can’t last long
The devil made me do it.
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
Gentle and tender his caress
pulse races, in his arms
Undying love he will confesses
He’ll never do her harm
She swears she’s his, her searching done
He knows that she’s the one
His roaming days are left behind
She’s his summer and his sun
She melts as lips, so soft and warm
Meet hers and deep she sighs
Her stomach flips, does somersaults
She’s lost inside his eyes
And under sun, both warm and bright
He knows she’ll be his bride
She bites her lip, and whispers sweet
“pop two fingers inside”
slowly easing myself back into senryu and haiku of a more ridiculous kind.
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
Flushed cheeks ,brow sweating
Tears down your cheeks, fire burns
Tikka masala…
A limerick because why not!
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
A fellow rotund, barrel chested
Would snore loudly in bed when he rested
‘till his wife cracked and screamed
Bashed his head as he dreamed
She slept soundly in jail when arrested
Just a thing about a thing and some other things which ends badly…
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
Theres a place made for folk of a kind
Who are carefree and pleasant you’ll find
But they don’t like to bath
And are quite fond of hash
And all substance to alter the mind
But…
All is not quite as it may appear
and possessed both of rage and of fear
their minds twisted and torn
by a pathogen born
in the weed and their lovely brewed beer
So…
Late at night when they ought to be humping
through their veins a dark need is fast pumping
and their hearts turned quite black
and they frenzied attack
driven wild on their neighbours they’re jumping
then…
and they rip and they tear quite asunder
and they feast on red flesh neath the thunder
and the lightning above
for they now only love
to devour, feast and bath in death’s wonder
now…
So the moral it seems is beware
if you travel there then just take care
Hippie harbour you’ll see
here the love isn’t free
there’s a cost you might pay, should you dare
Today a haiku. True story.
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
The flush of teen love
Holding hands for the first time
trouser explosion
So bad I bet you cannot even read it . You’ll see…
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
He does not want what he wants to not want
though he cannot agree more or less
but he did not not know what it was that was said
Though sometimes he was wont to forget
Now he did not not never know or think not at all
And he’d never ever never do what was said
and he knew not what he did not ever not ask
that’s as much as he knew now she’s dead
A bit like another I did to be honest…
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
Ravenous appetite
Sweaty brow and trousers tight
No control, stalks the night
In search of victims new
Throbbing urge rancid needs
Red raw mouth darkness leads
On shimmer bright his hunger feeds
His bile and hate and spew
Neath the stars, cold inky black
He surrenders, can’t turn back
Hear flesh tear and feel bones crack
And he’s refreshed anew
It’s been a while…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
POTUS fond of cavorting in pee
Banged a porn star, big fan of the V
Then he paid her a sum
Not to speak and keep shtum
That’s the norm in the land of the free
A limerick about Andy’s rather dirty wife
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once in Rhyll lived a plumber called Andy
had a wife who when drunk got quite randy
she was game, full of wine
and on beer quite devine
but my god what a tramp when on brandy
Just words thrown together willy nilly
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
Chocolates, sweet and silky on her lips
Reclined and pampered her every whim his wish
Tempted, dark and intense he feeds her desires
Lusting and hungry, deadly and delicious each and every dish
And time after time, her palette he teases
Skilled and cunning he caters, her appetites he knows
so with fake smiles and malice each mouthful he ensnares
Curves and comely come here hips slowly grow
Slowly time passes, senses dulled and sugar seeped she lies
Gorged and pink and perfectly sickly sweet
He draws the blinds, unsheathes cold steel
And dines, his long prepared and gorgeous bridal pickled treat
Just a little silliness in this sea of seriousness
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Friend of mine met a woman called Wendy
who he claimed was incredibly bendy
to applause, whoops and cheers
legs tucked behind her ears
Oh my god! The photos he once sent me
Just words thrown together willy nilly
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we. This was an odd piece for me, a kind of stream on consciousness. I was sat on a really boring conference call about BIG DATA and just started typing words and this is what came out. It is not really anything to me and has little meaning and is really just a series of ideas and images thrown together like a big bowl of wordy vomit.
She rages, face twisted screaming into the wind
Her words drowned out by the crashing shore
Soaked through with the spray of the ocean’s wrath
Fists clenched her heart black like the swirling skies above
She curses his name and dies once more at the memories
Eyes wide, nostrils flared bloody teeth flashed in defiance to the raging storm
As winds rip and tear, hands raised to the heavens she bellows, gut spilling over
Her tears mixed with the dark waters swirling around her feet
Her mouth filled with vile truths and swallowed words long unspoken
And with her last utterance, winds drop and bow to her rage
Tides calm and retreat, subdued and obedient
She dies a final time and in golden robes rests in light
I did an online food order and the delivery came with a free ginger bread man/woman/person
Androgynous baked golden creation
smiling, painted and lifeless . Tempting me.
a single bite I crave, perhaps a leg
or two
Soft on my lips
warm on my tongue
sweet and spiced welcomed into my mouth
just one bite more.
but not the face
with your plastered on smile and dead eyes
neat little jacket between my teeth
I gobble you down
and deny you ever existed…
Just the one…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once was a fellow from Crete
had a quite kinky craving for feet
how he craved toes and heels
cos it gave him sex feels
and the odour he loved, oh so sweet
Not what it seems I assure you.
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a fellow from Afghanistan…
Okay so I have failed tonight. I tried a couple of places right and ended up choosing Afghanistan, and Tehran and Pakistan thinking I would go a little further afield. As a second line though, no matter how hard I tried all I could think of was these people packing their families up into a van. No matter where I tried to go these poor buggers ended up squashed in the rear of an old battered pickup.
They weren’t going anywhere nice though, not on a holiday or anything. They weren’t even going to the shops to pick up some of whatever people would go to the shops to buy in Afghanistan. Probably toilet roll and crisps like everyone everywhere else on the planet.
No, I had them in a van, accompanied by a goat doing their damnedest to not be where they were. What do I know about these places I then ask myself. Not enough probably – they might be perfectly happy in Tehran shopping for magazines and orange cordial and pillows.
I get I can be ignorant, I suppose we all can be. I might have to do a bit of research and then – if it turns out I was right – then I will happily pack them into a van and have my way with them.
A tale of love in the middle ages
This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.
Once a fellow quite fond of romance
took a buxom young girl to a dance
he was charming and sweet
swept her right off her feet
all a plan to get into her pants
photo courtesy of me
A tale of love in the middle ages
This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.
A sweet maid gave her heart to her fella
but alas she was ripe he could smell her
from her feet to her pits
tits and girl naughty bits
but was desperate so chose not to tell her
photo courtesy of me
Dirty dirty dirty
This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.
A comely barmaid from Mauritius
proclaimed “Semen is oh so delicious
and so good for my skin
and it keeps me quite thin
full of protein and very nutritious.”
photo courtesy of me
Men…really.
This week your WordPress feed with be filled with the theme of love, and through my limericks and haiku I will attempt to fill you with some of mine.
Chap I know met a lass from Djibouti
Eyes like sapphires and lips red like rubies
said he so loved her mind
but quite adored her behind
and was rather obsessed with her boobies
photo courtesy of me
Afterwards 