Men are only mysterious when they have nothing to hide

A knight in shining armour and a damsel in distress,
But with his clichéd one-liner he just cannot impress.
He then moves to embrace her but he spills his pint instead,
Oh love’s young dream is shattered as the drink goes to his head.
Although she is no beauty she still tells him where to go,
Her mind is changed, though, soon as she cops on that he’s got dough!
When she gets keen, then he gets mean, and suddenly goes coy,
And leaves her on her tod while he goes drinking with the boys!

The boy next door is chatty but he doesn’t reveal much,
He makes out he’s real sensitive and needs your loving touch.
He’ll phone you without fail when you tell him not to ring,
But won’t return your phone calls, cause that’s not his kind of thing.
He’ll chase you like a dog on heat as long as you are cold,
But look in his direction and you’ll see it all unfold.
He’ll make out he’s real deep at first to whet your appetite,
It won’t take long, til you cop on, he’s only talking shite!

Some are too devoted, and some just won’t commit,
And others only want to paw and maul your fleshy bits.
He’ll take your cash and stash it in a comfy joint account,
But when it comes to marriage, then he suddenly wants out.
He’ll put on weight and lose his hair, and still think he’s real cool,
But when it comes to your lard ass, there is a different rule.
And after several years go by, the closeness makes him clammy,
But really, he’s pissed off, because you’re nothing like his mammy!

Published in: on September 9, 2007 at 10:40 pm Leave a Comment

Passion plays

Passion slides soles into shoes
(Can’t afford , but Christ, I’m bored)

Passion points red velvet gloves
(Hello you, plus me, makes two)

Passion shouts the devil may care
(Shall we share my underwear)

Passion stays when lusting fades
(How uncouth, the naked truth)

Passion casts its evil spell
(So I’m the bitch you’re going to ditch)

Passion frightens feeble men
(I never fell, so go to hell)

Passion wants what isn’t mine
(All the time, eternal crime)

Passion pays the price of pride
(Ego torn, feeling forlorn)

Passion puts the world to write
(Unpublished poems in endless tomes)

Published in: on August 27, 2007 at 6:13 pm Leave a Comment

Pop!

Warm hands embrace
bottle neck nook
nestle along curves -
Fingers grip
Tongues trip

Wait…

…Anticipate…

bubbles break free
cluster in huddles
titter in whispers
undulating curves
wrist twists
voices rise
quick darts
flicker and flare
draw breath
pip upwards

And then
a
slow
gentle
hiss

Sigh of a contented woman!

Published in: on August 21, 2007 at 11:24 pm Leave a Comment

Blood from a stone

nature pokes – nurture prods

the vacuum.

foetal-like
body curls -
every month
swelling – aching -

empty cramps
contracting
to the clock
that needs no winding.

with no warning
waters break
flowing down
unkissed cheeks
weeping wretched
tears of blood

mourning life left

unlived.

scarlet
in
darkness.

Published in: on April 4, 2007 at 9:15 pm Leave a Comment

Venus at Vesuvius

feel of flesh against fresh cotton
life lingering tickling hairs standing
to attention at the mention
of a tingling touch

fingers trigger silk implosions
limbs exploring whims and notions
warming from the inside out

urge to shout

tip of tongue tracing contours
hard palate to soft
trembling chest breath expanding
undulating deep contractions

blessed by hands
that understand the mistress’s command.
bleary-eyed she lies

ecstasy rising

fox-trotting to a central spin
staccato steps on a pelvic floor
turns burns
first burst

bubbles to the surface
voluptuous volcano
molten lava spewing

Venus at Vesuvius

Published in: on January 29, 2007 at 11:22 am Leave a Comment

Sole Trader

I said I do
not wish to sell
my soul for any
old shoes.

A self on the shelf -
Animal hide moulded
Leather clad lover -
Perfect pair.

Sliding into you
feeling my heel
squeeze against your hard back -
Adrenalin attack.

Your sole enveloping
my bones – kissing
between my toes -
Curling lotus foot.

Caressing my ankles
in tender devotion
strapped to me -
Emotion explosion.

A slip of plastic
making me moan
Sloping through electric doors -
We elope.

Published in: on January 15, 2007 at 1:05 pm Comments (1)

Paradise Lust (A Passion Play)

Way back when the world began
When God first created man
And woman, a discarded bone,
A frivolous creature who was prone
To folly wrong and evil ways,
History gave her no praise.
But wait a minute, I protest,
I am not at all impressed
At this philosophy, I frown,
It tries to keep good women down.
I propose a counter tale
To tell about the first female.
Her name was Eve and one could say
That she was gifted in every way.
A good brain, she, of course possessed,
To knowledge and wisdom she professed
A dedication, and high esteem,
To know it all, her only dream.
But as it happens so in life
A good woman becomes a wife,
Something borrowed, something blue,
Some big dope without a clue.
A choice, poor Eve, she did not get,
Adam was her only bet
Big on brawn, but low on brain
He was ignorant and vain,
A one track mind he did possess
His only wish was to caress
Eve’s curves and body, not her mind
Just get his hands on her behind,
But often Eve said “Adam, no,
I wish to read, so you must go”,
And left him to his own frustration,
Hence man created masturbation.
Now Satan, was another sod
Who had fallen out with God.
So in the garden of paradise
He decided to entice
One of God’s creatures to disobey,
Eve, the woman, was his first prey.
And in the form of a snake
He tried to convince her to take
The fruit from the forbidden tree
But he did not quite forsee
That Eve was prone to use her reason,
She would never fall to treason.
Soon after Eve had left the scene
Adam, who was still quite keen
To have his way with Eve in bed
Came along, his face was red
From frustrated self restraint,
He nearly fell into a faint,
And Satan knew it wasn’t hard
To catch Adam off his guard.
He said “Your problems I can solve
The answer, here, it does evolve
Around this fruit upon this tree,
Eat this apple and you will be
Rewarded with virility
That will conquer the chastity
Of the woman you desire,
The one that sets your loins on fire,
And no longer will you be vexed
Frustrated, mad or undersexed.”
And being such a brainless brute
Adam delved into the fruit.
Suddenly God came on the scene
Angrier than he’d ever been,
He said “Why did you disobey
My sacred word in such a way”.
Adam said “The fault’s not mine
For I did have no wish to dine
Upon the fruit that is forbidden
The fault lies with the woman, hidden.”
At this time Eve came by
To see what was the reason why
Angry looks were cast her way,
Then she heard Adam say
“There she is the Evil one,
Who has, humanity, undone.”
These accusations she did refute
But no one listened to her dispute,
And God passed judgment, without fair trial,
And unto woman, punishment vile.
And so you see the reason why
I say our history ’s a lie.
The fall of our humanity
Lies in the mismatched destiny
Of a woman who was wise
And a man who told great lies,
Without a brain in his scull,
Just the one he likes to pull!

Published in: on December 29, 2006 at 8:10 pm Leave a Comment

Pressure Cooker

Shall I bake my way into your heart -
Queen of Tarts from the top shelf,
Wrap the apron strings tight around my curves,
Let the juice of my fruits ooze for you.

Shall I wash your dirty laundry -
Iron the creases from your life,
Sort your socks and darn your
life into a tidy seamless fit.

Shall I earn my own living for you -
Bang my head on invisible ceilings,
Press my face against the cold glass,
Carve myself up on the cutting room floor.

Shall I turn up the heat in this hothouse -
Tenderise my meat til it’s bloody and rare,
Roast my soul on your wooden spit,
Slice myself thinly on the cracked plate.

Shall I split myself in two for you -
Produce the perfect heir to the throne,
Come home and bake a scone
in the brief case of my life.

Shall I smile at my sweet success -
Superficial smile – superwoman stress -
Desk-ridden Diva and Domestic Goddess -
Prematurely grey in my Martha Stewart dress.

Published in: on December 4, 2006 at 10:13 am Leave a Comment

Lunar psychles

Moon is my mistress -
Melancholy muses,
Menstrual mayhem,
Lunar fuses
Sparks – confuses.

Moon is my master -
Harbouring boats
Float and fall,
Ebb and flow
Towards the glow.

Moon is my maker -
Tides may turn,
Crash and burn.
Calm commotion
On waves of emotion.

Moon is my mentor -
Magical mysteries
Molding – scolding
Sores and insights
Of poet and playwright.

Moon is myself,
My cynic, my soul.
Goal of my gun,
My pen and my pun.

Published in: on November 24, 2006 at 10:43 am Leave a Comment

Dilapidated Destiny

Bygone beauty’s
must hue fills
barren kingdom -
Maiden mistress.

Dust mites feast
where paper crumbles -
Tumbles from walls
split to core.

Damp rot bores
greys and greens
gold of moulds -
Paintwork peels

bare patches reveal
blistered brick eruptions –
stark naked walls
fissured and veined.

Cover up this
cracked whore -
Forgotten folly-
Rotting slowly.

Published in: on October 26, 2006 at 1:20 pm Leave a Comment