Poems for Adult Readers!

A slightly more risqué selection of poems... for over 18's only!

Love Lost
She filled his mind with intense surmise,
That he did undress her,
With his eyes;
When both eyes met,
She fled.

The Goal
The ultimate aim of the human spirit,
Is to elevate their thoughts closer to God,
For when we leave this Earth,
His hearth,
Where the joys of companionship provide the glow,
We head out alone,

To where, we do not know.
Deceivers and manipulators, whose only goal is gain,
Distort the noble purpose,
Of the human brain.
Once this diversion,
To normal men a perversion;
Is put in place,
Then we give them their grace,
To proudly proclaim,
"Look at my riches, you fool; worship me”
And this; fools; do.

They think not of the rancid ditches,
The sewers whence they gained their riches.
No fresh shower or purity of water,
Can cleanse the souls
Of these grinning ghouls,

By some chemical osmosis they are stained,
Yet think themselves immune from what they’ve gained,
They care not for not the ‘how’
They only understand the ‘what’.
This is the law of the fat cretins

Nobility is a bought peerage,
Another boost to sewers steerage,
A flush of water behind closed doors,
The Niagara of a man named Crapper,
Washing away our smelly shit,
But is that all,
Is that it?
I fear not.

Devious man thinks he always can,
Cover up what's in his pan..
But this he can only do,
Bt persuading others who,
Cover up his pooh,
And sadly for the sake of man,
None do what they can,
Instead humans who claim to be men,
With eyes open wide, nip their nose with their fingers
When they could,
Shut their eyes and open their nostrils,

Shit smells at its worst when the farts hit the air,
Flatulence heralds a turd,
Take my word,
Any smelly introduction,
Such as the announcement of a flunkey,
At a dinner to honour a moron,
Is founded in our inertia,
If we allow a man to polish his shit,
That is it.
He will never be seen as a sinner.
Most will see him as a winner,

Propaganda always wins the day,
In a world where we want to get on our way,
Move on, move on.
Who cares that one of our friends is cheated?
We do not want to get involved,
Thus the problem is 'solved'.
Does it affect me
No,
Then we must move on.
So were sewn the seeds that lead to millions dead,
A world war fought over an insult to a duke.
Lets all puke.

Cowardly bastards all are we,
Gutless, nameless, thus never free,
From the purpose of our earthly life,
To justify our place above all other animals.
By looking at life without bias,
We can see how God does try us,
He gave us the brains to reach higher things,
Yet, injustice thrives, manipulation is admired,
And money rules the brain.
It simply isn’t sane,

Their own soul,
This essence,
The reason for life on earth,
Handed in for another’s worth,
For him to shape to his desire,
A fire
Of rhetoric that consumes man’s will,
Another kill.
For the hunter priests.

Hope can toss all fear aside,
It is the bride,
All decent men must wed,
And cherish as their true love,
Till death them do part.
Man who has known true love is never alone,
Hope and love is celestial sperm,
If allowed to flourish,
Repels the germ,
Of man’s inhumanity to man,
Allowed to grow the hope’s denied,
Now flourish in the mind,
Love and hope will vanquish every foe,
And make weak man invincible

Lust
My scrotal sack is full of sperm,
The testicles, male bodies therm,
Oscillating thro’ the seasons wynd,
Down when warm,
Up when unkind.

Ode to a Divorced wife
Yes, we were married, that is true.
You put up with me,
And I with you.

But now it is the time for truth,
Let lies be less, let us be ‘ruth.’

Though I did once enjoy your crutch,
I never liked you--
Overmuch.

Short and Sharp,
If a man needs to chase his girl to marry,
Then in his bed she may not tarry- - ;
She’ll probably run off with Harry!

And finally - song lyrics that had to be put into this section!

The ‘Pillie Willie’ Rap
The young girl cuddles her pillow,
She wants to stay thin an’ willow.
She do’an wanna grow up an’ get fat’
An’ there’s a whole lotta truth in that.

Chorus:
She mustn't look at his Willie.
Cos she ain't takin the Pillie.
Fat Cats! Yeah do de dah; Fat Cats! Yeah do de dah.
Out goes pussy galore, com'in in is pussy no more.
Cos she mustn't look at his Willie’
When she ain’t takin the Pillie.

I’s bustle to this, ‘an hustle to that,
A’n rush off there but do'an get fat.
Cause she might become less attractive,
An’ her boyfren’ will be less active.

Chorus

Then one night she goes out a’courtin.
There’s one thing she knows for certin.
She’ll dance an’ she’ll kiss, an’ she’ll cuddle.
But she woan get her knickers in a muddle;
No! She woan get her knickers in a muddle.

Chorus - then repeat to fade: