Archive for the ‘poem’ Tag

08/20/2022 ❤️Bad Poetry Alert❤️   2 comments

After receiving a few interesting emails and poems on my recent “Feet” posting I decided to offer up some of my own Bad Poetry for your entertainment. In my opinion poetry is best when humorous.

I just saw a sexy painted red toe

Peeking at me from a nearby sandal.

It looked soooo damn cute

It was almost more than I could handle.

As it sauntered on by

Four other toes caught my eye.

Oh my! Oh my! I felt such a tingle

And followed along hoping the owner was single.

I raised my head a tiny little bit

To checkout that anonymous owner.

And all of a sudden, I unfortunately discovered

The loss of a perfectly good boner.

😃😂😄

04/15/2022 Bad Poetry Alert   6 comments

Today is the start of a better day than yesterday. Today I’m assured of at least another year before the cancer might return. A good doctor’s report makes for better days ahead. I can stop obsessing over this whole cancer deal until October when I’m due to be scanned again. So, what better way to pass the time than throwing some bad poetry your way. I wrote this many years ago during what I used to call the I-don’t-give-a-shit days. And believe me, I had plenty of them.

❤❤ It’s near in the mist. ❤❤
It watches and waits,
as its urges flicker to life.
A stroke of the hand,
a kiss in the dark,
and a seed is spilled
near your wife.
Some call it desire,
others haven’t a clue,
I see it near you!

12-19-2013. ‘Twas Quite the Night Before   Leave a comment

Five shopping days leaves little time to do much of anything.  In keeping with the holiday I thought a little Christmas poetry was in order.  This year for me has been more than a little strange. Broken bones and weight loss were my themes this year and thankfully I found this version of “The Night Before Christmas” written for strictly for us dieters.  Enjoy!

   The Dieter’s Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I’d wind up sick.

The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
Now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly,
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn
Gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry–
If temptation’s removed I’ll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night
In the morning I’ll starve… ’til I take that first bite!

Dieting for me isn’t quite Christmassy enough.  Many years ago I had a “friend” sent me this next version which was much more to my liking. Sex always sells so why not a sexy “Twas the Nite Before” instead of the traditional version.  Maybe on Christmas Eve I’ll sent along a copy of the original to get us all into the real Christmas spirit.  Enjoy this off-color version for now.

Night Before Sexmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat,
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.
The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook,
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude,
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner and poor momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I’m speaking, he was as high as a kite,
And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.
Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.
They cleared the old lamppost, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jacket to cover my ass,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.
“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile,
“The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay here awhile.”

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.
The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find,
And a six pack of panties, the edible kind.
A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several other things that I shouldn’t even mention.

A fuck ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.
“This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit.
So I’ll leave ’em here, and then I’ll just split.”

He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reigns of his hitch,
Saying, “Take me home Rudolph, this nights been a BITCH!”
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!”

FIVE SHOPPING DAYS LEFT

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