| | Partisan PoemsPage 19 of 38 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38) | | holey crap your poems are fantastic! a bit of a Roald Dahl for adults | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/2/2012 3:42:56 PM | Ah - the though that shite might have a religous significance is worthy of a poem!!
Button Up
Do you mind if I ask you
To button up your dress
May I have a little decorum
And a little less of your breast
I’m trying to speak to you
Look you in the face
So if you could pull in your bosom
I’d consider it good taste
I’m trying to be a gentleman
Pretending not to look
But your blouse is wide open dear
Your chest an open book
Are you hot are you warm
Have you a desire to reveal
So much chest so much flesh
Why this strange appeal
Am I suppose to have a conversation
With your nipples or your eyes
Is this a test is this an experiment
Or just a nice surprise
Am I a prude for looking elsewhere
Am I a letch for looking down
I can see right through your cleavage
To your shoes upon the ground
Perhaps you’re impoverished
Have your buttons gone astray
Here buy yourself a cardigan
You can buy it from my pay
Will you cover up your cleavage
Will you place inside your breasts
For I really must inform you
That I’m actually not impressed
I feel I must inform you
Without sounding crass
I’m not a big titted loving man
But I love a shapely ass
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/3/2012 11:28:09 AM | Life’s a Real B*tch
She was looking for a gentleman
Isn’t life a real b*tch
She ended up with me
Isn’t that rich
She was looking for suave
Debonair
Instead she got me
Bald with no hair
She was looking for a man
Sophisticated
I think she was misunderstood
And got inebriated
She was looking for gentile
A man refined
To be waited on hand and foot
To be wined and dined
As fate would have it
She ended up with me
I think she was blind
They say love can’t see
As fate would have it
No gentleman called
Karma sent her
A rogue thin and small
Perhaps it was destiny
Perhaps Déjà Vu
But she ended up in an asylum
Well wouldn’t you
I still go and visit her
Whenever I’m in the mood
That there are others insane
It makes me feel good
She was once pretty normal
Now she’s ga ga
She thinks I’m her mother
Sometimes her pa
Still all is not negative
She’s stopped looking for a male
As she talks to her reflection
In her hospital jail | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/3/2012 12:00:18 PM | Intimate Encounters
She said she was looking for
An intimate encounter
Would I do her the honour
Get up and mount her
Well look here says I
Who do you think I am
A cowboy a Mountie
An equestrian fan
I could never mount her
For I have never ridden
A horse or a pony
I hope I’d be forgiven
She started to get stroppy
She started to get rude
Called me an ass
A bit of a prude
Her temper was foul
She used words forbidden
Just because I said I was sorry
She couldn’t get ridden
It wasn’t my fault
I’m from the inner city
We don’t have any trees
Or flowers that are pretty
We have no horses
No ponies or green grass
And we never had riding lessons
Never mounted an ass
She looked dumb struck
As if I was mental
She pleaded to be ridden
I could be hard or gentle
Well what was I to do
The lady was pleading
And I am a gentleman
Of exceptional breeding
So I said what to hell
I’ll give anything a try
Then when I got out my saddle
And she wished me goodbye | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/3/2012 3:29:58 PM | Dead Ends
Down streets down alleyways
Where ere life sends
Meeting obstacles
Meeting dead ends
At this time in life
Dead ends frequent
In the maze of life
Dead ends are sent
Dead ends in employment
Dead ends in romance
Dead ends in this race
This life this dance
Maybe it’s this era
Maybe it’s this age
Hard to know
Difficult to gauge
Dead ends lie waiting
Hidden from sight
When you turn left
When you turn right
Blank walls and gables
Baring the way
Dead ends to our pleas
Dead ends when we pray
Dead ends at cross-roads
Roundabouts to
Not knowing where to turn
How about you
Are you hoping are you seeking
Doors to open
Is life grinding you down
You’re just about coping
With dead ends in your love life
Dead ends killing joy
Dead ends killing passion
Hope to destroy
Dead ends increasing
Year upon year
Dead ends my nightmare
My consummate fear | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/4/2012 10:38:14 AM | Old Faces
Old faces familiar
Crossing our paths
Remembering the tears
Remembering the laughs
Old faces new features
Grey hairs more lines
Creating reflections
Of sweet bitter times
Old faces puzzlingly
Is it or is not
That some special person
Not yet forgot
Old faces with wrinkles
Twenty years on
After youth has departed
After middle age has gone
Old faces familiar
Halting our tracks
Shall we feel joyous
Shall we feel vexed
Old faces reunited
Sad feelings of pain
Torture and torment
Floods back again | |
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Posted: 3/5/2012 11:24:27 AM | Tamara
She was a work of art
Was Tamara
She painted with rouge
Painted with mascara
She coloured her lips
Soft and inviting
The colours were subtle
But the effect was exciting
With each stroke of her brush
Lovingly applied
Her wrinkles disappeared
The artist she lied
No longer aged fifty
She dropped a decade
Call it a skill
Perhaps a charade
She deceived all and sundry
With her majestic strokes
She was the real thing
No impressionist hoax
She had the skill of an artisan
When she painted her face
All was perfection
In the best possible taste
Not too garish
Not too pale
Just spot on
To attract a male
Her use of light
The contrast of shadow
And eyes bright green
Like a field in a meadow
Cheek bones structured
Jaw defined
A real work of art
As the colours combined
Eyes highlighted
To invite you in
And the canvas she painted
Invited men’s sin
She invited attention
With her consummate skill
She was one painted lady
With looks to kill | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/5/2012 11:48:11 AM | The Momentary Token
She was one fu*ked up woman
She’d just separated
So she was out to find ‘love’
Inebriated
She was out to find a man
Out to find another
Though it was only three months past
Since she separated from her lover
Her partner of ten years
They had just split up
Now she hated all men
They were devious and corrupt
Her lover had gone
After cheating with her mate
Now she was out to find another
Crazy is fate
With no throught of waiting
She was a screwed up lady
Thinking about dirty
Thinking about shady
Thinking no
She didn’t need to think
She’d rely on her mates
And a skinful of drink
Perhaps she’d find love
Or just a quick screw
Stupid fecking woman
Stupid old shrew
For as fate would have it
She met a nice fella
One who open the doors
And carried her umbrella
Who was kind and affectionate
In fact a bit of a gem
But she thought he was like her ex.
And this fella was condemned
She treated him like shit
She treated him like dirt
She lost the plot
This stupid piece of skirt
Not giving herself enough time
Enough time to heal
Getting back into the action
With premature zeal
She was a real fecking mess
Who needed time to recover
And in her great haste
She chased away her new lover
So for all you old fellas
Who might be reading this
Forget about a rejected woman
Who’s out to get pissed
Forget about a woman
Who’s recently been dumped
Who’s out for a quick screw
A back seat jump
Forget about getting too close
For she’s mentally broken
And you are just a stop-gap
A momentary token | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/5/2012 1:29:45 PM | Jenny Was A Follower
She followed him through thin
She followed him through thick
Though he was an as*hole
Though he was a prick
She followed him in the good times
But those weren’t too many
He’d call and she’d come
My old friend dear Jenny
She followed him in the bad times
Even visited him when in jail
She told lies to the Chief Justice
And helped to pay his bail
She followed him unquestioningly
Like some little girl lost
I warned her to be careful
I warned her of the cost
I warned her he was no good
He would take her for a ride
But she followed him to the altar
She said yes to be his bride
Then she followed him to the barroom
Many times every week
For he was a fecking waster
And well Jenny she was a little weak
She followed him when he hit her
She followed him on the drink
She followed him irrespective
That he drove her to the brink
She told me one day confidentially
She never regretted becoming his slave
Then I read in the obituaries
Jenny followed him to the grave | |
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Posted: 3/5/2012 1:52:57 PM | The Silent Disguise
He wasn’t mysterious
Not strong and silent
He was f*cking stupid
Really compliant
Under her thumb
He was under control
This hunk of a man
Who use to be bold
This man once my friend
Never left the house
Petrified by this witch
This four foot high mouse
He use to be chatty
Loved having a joke
He was one of the best
Came from good folk
But ten years of marriage
To this miniature dwarf
Had changed him completely
Into his shell he had morphed
You’d ask him a question
And the witch would butt in
Scrawny fecking jezebel
Four foot and thin
She told when to speak
Told him when to stay quiet
Told him what he could watch
Told him to diet
She castrated his ballacks
This dominating witch
Just because she’d money
Folks that where rich
She said he was strong and silent
This was his appeal
I saw a man bent and broken
Gone was his zeal
Gone was the glint
The twinkle in his eyes
Only left was the shell
And the silent disguise
Only left was the emptiness
Not a man just a token
Who would be told off for speaking
For laughing and joking | |
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Posted: 3/7/2012 12:49:18 PM | Obnoxious
She called me obnoxious
An honest held belief
I was an obnoxious bas*ard
Who just brought her grief
I was a son of a b*tch
I sat at Satan’s right hand
I think it’s fair to say
She wasn’t my favourite fan
She said I was a wan*er
I couldn’t disagree
For wanting another lover
Not two in bed but three
Well again I couldn’t argue
Not with a statement based on fact
Thirty years with her had become boring
The same old same old sex
I was a disgusting twisted creature
Who had crawled out from below a stone
Wanting another playmate
Wanting to hear her moan
I was depraved, corrupted perverted
Wanting another woman to come
To join us in the bedroom
Suggesting three-some fun
I was something she described as pitiful
With expletives in between
For wanting a manage de trios
For threesomes are obscene
But what really got to her
What sent her around the twist
Was I suggested inviting her mother
Or if not, what about her Sis?
She exploded like a volcano
I thought she was having a tumour
Woman feck it they disappoint me
Not one with a black sense of humour | |
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Posted: 3/7/2012 1:16:50 PM | Crap Poems
I write crap poetry
For shitty people
I write crap rhymes
With words that are feeble
I write crap songs
Without any tunes
For eegits and morons
And fecking balloons
I write crap words
They’re a load of shite
For people who are bored
And others not bright
I write crap verses
Crap choruses too
You’d never have guessed it
I write them in the loo
Sitting on the bog
Having a shite
That’s the only place
For a poet to write
Crap poems written
Whilst having a crap
Sitting with my cigarette
Wearing my hat
I write crap odes
With terrible grammar
Woeful spelling
Not helped by my stammer
I write crap poetry
Disowned by other bards
For I use simple words
I never use hard
I write crap words
From a male perspective
For feminist neurotics
And the PC collective
Who have no sense of humour
Just hatred to nurse
So just to rub it in
I write crap and I curse
But don’t you feel rejected
Don’t you feel blue
For I’ve written this crap poem
Especially for you | |
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Posted: 3/10/2012 5:15:19 AM | The Beast and the Priest
Hear my words
I am not proud
These words I speak
Soft not loud
My conscience grips me
It is not clear
I blame the fates
I blame the beer
My sins are great
More than many
I wronged my Judith
Fiona and Penny
But nothing compares
With all my sins
With all my errors
With all my whims
Hear my confessions
My father priest
For I lay naked
With the beast
I removed my clothes
In mirth with leisure
And without a care
I took pleasure
Indulged in sins
I now confess
When my hands moved up
Inside her dress
Her underwear
I removed
To reveal a body
Soft and smooth
Soft white thighs
Bottom firm
And many things
Last night I learned
For hours and hours
Time stood still
I lost my mind
I lost my will
Gave it all
In sins congenial
Mortal sins
To a host convivial
My eyes took pleasure
My loins did feast
As all night long
I rode the beast
My father hear
My false repentance
For I am captivated
By her presence
She is a lady
Of the night
Her breasts are pert
Her eyes are bright
Her lips are red
Ruby waxed
And as for love
Or was it sex
I’ve had no better
My body aches
I want her now
For pity sakes
She burned lie sun
She shone as the moon
I came too late
I came too soon
I came again
And then again
Father help me
I’m going insane
I need repentance
For I have paid
With this beast
With which I’ve laid
I placed my coins
Into her hands
And she made me feel
A God a Man
Strong are the feelings
These flames which burn
For I know tonight
I shall return
Tell me father
My family priest
Is it wrong
To love a beast
A scarlet woman
Of ill repute
This wonderful wench
This buxom beaut
To pay for sins
Sins of the flesh
And suckle on
Her subtle breast
To pay with money
Silver and gold
Am I condemned
Here take my soul
I have no use
For such a thing
For when she came
I heard her sing
I heard her sigh
I heard her cry
And in that moment
I could have died
Ah so my son
You lay with the whore
But please don’t stop
Please tell me more
All the details
You most tell me now
How you rode
That beast that cow
Every detail
You must spare none
To receive repentance
My sinful son
To be fully cleansed
You must confess
What she wore
Under her dress
Every detail
I must hear it all
Did you come
Did she call
Did you take her
Many times
Tell me tell me
Ease my mind
Hurry tell me
Every detail
Did she come
Did she wail
And what’s her name
This wench this beast
And her address
Asked my priest
What’s her name
Her cell phone
He demanded
In whispered moan
What’s her name
For she is sick
Tell me tell me
Tell me quick
T’was then I stood
Rose from my knees
And from the confessional
I did flee
From the Church
I was repulsed
For this man was filled
With savage lust
And to the beast
I did return
And for fifteen years
My passion burned | |
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Posted: 3/10/2012 11:43:27 AM | Love In Boxes
She said I loved in boxes
I said she was wrong
I loved on pedestals
Witnessed in song
I loved on pinnacles
I loved in curses
I loved in wounds
Bandaged by nurses
She said I loved in boxes
Compartmentalisation
As if it was a sin
Procrastination
I replied she was wrong
Completely biased
She’d distorted logic
Saying such lies
I loved on pedestals
On which she was placed
Me at the foot
Worshipping on grace
I loved at altars
I loved in prayers
I loved with my soul
Open laid bare
I loved with a magnitude
Arms wide open
With which she was frightened
Never a token
Never in a box
Never a half measure
I loved her more than gold
It was she who I treasured
She said I loved in boxes
I said that she lied
Until I went to my coffin
After I died
Then I came back
As she lay in her bed
And I said she was right
The words that she said
I loved in a box
Oak with lined satin
With six foot of earth
And a stench something rotten
I loved in a box
Lying below the grave
And my love in a box
Would always be a slave
I loved in a box
I whispered above her bed
To the woman I loved
Who refused to get wed
Who thought rings were manacles
Marriage was a chain
And having two children
Was something insane
Who despised convention
And boxes and titles
And I told her I loved her
In ghostly recitals
I told her I loved her
From six foot below the ground
And in a box called a coffin
Love could be found | |
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Posted: 3/10/2012 1:27:53 PM | Astute Woman!
Your opinion is something
For which I do not care
I don’t claim to be equitable
Just or fair
Your opinion is something
Which counts for nought
I do not gloat
I do not pout
Your opinion is
Only that
Biased musings
Falling flat
Your opinion is something
You hold dear
Mouthed when sober
Drunk with beer
Your opinion is
Based on hate
Of which you feed on
And cannot sate
Your opinions are
Never facts
They embarrass youself
And all your sex
Your opinions are nebulous
Not set in stone
And still you shout
And still you moan
You opinions are things
I cannot see
That’s what my last girl
Said to me
Astute Woman! | |
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Posted: 3/10/2012 1:55:38 PM | Victoria
Her name was Victoria Meldrew
I should have known
All she ever did
Was moan and groan
Her glass was half empty
Never half full
A manic depressive
As a rule
If the bus arrived
Just a minute late
She cursed the Gods
She bad mouthed fate
Never satisfied
She was a fecking dragon
Her mouth turned down
Always sagging
She never smiled
She’d only grimace
I’m glad we’re over
Glad we’ve finished
Her days were dark
Her nights were black
She even moaned
During sex
Isn’t it over
She would say
Hurry up
Have your way
Get a move on
Corrie’s on
I’m ever grateful
Now she’s gone
No more sex
With Victoria
For she’s moved back in
With her ma and pa
No more abuse
From her turned down lips
No more sarcasm
No more quips
No more depressive
Manic wants
No more of Victoria’s
Sycophantic rants | |
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Posted: 3/19/2012 6:16:37 AM | Chalk and Cheese
She wanted to have fun
So she upped and left
I can’t say I was surprised
I wasn’t bereft
She wanted to have fun
We were like chalk and cheese
Better she went her own way
Her soul to please
She wanted to have fun
Simple and pure
The call of far off countries
And other allures
She wanted to have fun
I wanted to have meaning
I wanted to have a purpose
She preferred dreaming
I wanted to make a difference
Make some form of contribution
Not fearing death
Or God’s retribution
But I wanted to have a purpose
Not high and mighty
She wanted to have fun
Be flirty and flighty
She wanted to enjoy
All the years that were left
I fully understood
So wasn’t bereft
Whenever she went
Walked out the door
She wanted to have fun
For life was a chore
She wanted to enjoy
Life’s finer things
Drink fine wine
Enjoy what life brings
She wanted frivolous
For your a long time dead
So we decided to part
We’re no longer wed
She wanted simple
Hated complicated
I wonder in hindsight
If we ever were fated
I wanted to have a purpose
Have an objective perhaps a goal
Something with meaning
To satisfy my soul
Someting to say
My life was not wasted
I didn’t care for rewards
Or for finer things tasted
I wanted to make a contribution
Not just to take part
So that’s the reason
We’re now living apart | |
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Posted: 3/19/2012 8:19:58 AM | Home Truths
Too many too frequently
Too often too late
Search for the truth
Then love to blame fate
They search all too infrequently
They don’t want to know
Content with illusions
Get on with the show
Who wants to know truths
That will only bring hurt
So their mouths open wide
Lips start to pout
Demanding the truth
Praying for lies
Inwardly pleading
For plausible alibis
Their lives are comfortable
Going nowhere fast
They prefer deceptions
Distortions that last
Who wants to know truths
That shatter old dreams
When women are rejected
Paupers not Queens
Who wants to know truths
To shatter illusions
Distort all pretences
Bring only confusion
Bring only sadness
Madness and tears
Who wants to know truths
Only prophets and seers | |
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Posted: 3/19/2012 8:37:50 AM | Money For Love
Give us your dollars
Give us your coins
If you want full membership
Test out your loins
If you want to have sex
Perhaps find a mate
Give us your sterling
Then pray to fate
Give us your dollars
All your old notes
Write us a cheque
You stupid old goats
All looking hoping
Searching for a mate
Give us your credit card numbers
We’ll help you find a date
Give us your pounds
Your dollars and cents
If you want to find love
You know it makes sense
You old and you lonely
You sad and you wise
Give us your money
We’ll find you a prize
Give us your dollars
We want to get rich
If you want to find a lover
A wife or a b*tch
Give us your sterling
We must have your money
And in exchange we’ll advise you
You have to be funny
You have to be considerate
If you want to find love
But when all is said and done
When push comes to shove
You have to pay dollars
Silver and gold
So send us your money
Just do as you’re told
Send us your money
For full membership
No arguments no dissention
None of your lip
Send us your money
Hurry we haven’t got enough
Give us your money
Give us lots of the stuff
Just seven pounds a month
If you want to get laid
If you want to get a man
Or a woman in your bed
Seven pounds a month
Just one pound sixty nine a week
For the love of your life
For the partner you seek | |
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Posted: 3/19/2012 10:33:56 AM | I’d Love to Say
I’d love to say
I was tall dark and handsome
And women were my playthings
Their feelings I could ransom
That I was well educated
Well qualified
But the words I might say
Might only be lies
I’d love to say
I was extremely fit
Considered humorous
A bit of a wit
A member of the establishment
The old school brigade
But my words might be lies
A fabricated charade
I’d love to say
I was well endowed
A man among men
Standing up proud
But alas and alack
This might not be true
And this lie could haunt me
If I ever met you
I’d love to say
I was contented with life
Looking for stability
A partner and a wife
But I’m betwixt and between
I’m uncertain what I want
So I don’t want to say things
That tomorrow I’ll recant
I’d love to say
I was a gentleman
Nobel and virtuous
That I’d hold your hand
Open the doors
Give you my seat
I was the crème dela crème
I was one of the elite
I’d love to say
That I was very secure
I was intellectual
And my mind was pure
That I was extremely wealthy
Considered worldly and wise
I’d love to say it
But my words would be lies | |
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Posted: 3/19/2012 3:04:31 PM | The Angel
She was stunningly beautiful
Out of my league
Those where the rules
That was my creed
She was too bloody gorgeous
With her long black hair
It’s not about equity
Or about life being fair
She was simply a vision
An angel from grace
Her body was perfect
As was her face
She would drive men crazy
With a glimpse of her thighs
She captivated men’s hearts
If they stared into her eyes
Her lips would move
But no sounds would be heard
That’s the way life is
Isn’t it absurd
All men would give chase
Well all men but I
No point why bother
No word of a lie
Why chase after the impossible
Why hanker after a vision
It only brings pain
Self centred derision
She was simply stunning
Too good for me
Now all those years thereafter
She’s still single still free
She never settled down
No man ever asked
For all men just like me
Didn’t feel up to the task | |
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Posted: 3/19/2012 3:36:24 PM | Sunday School Songs
You are my sunshine my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You never know dear how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away
You are my sunshine I sang softly
All those years back in Sunday school
Standing beside my teenage sweetheart
Even back then I was a fool
You are my sunshine in the daytime
You are my sunshine in the night time too
You are my sunshine in the summer
And in the winter when feeling blue
You are my sunshine I sang softly
With my sweetheart by my side
Now all these years I still sing softly
All those years now since sunshine died
You are my sunshine you are my sunshine
Even though you’re long since gone
You are my memories you are my words
You are my vision you are my song | |
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Posted: 3/21/2012 11:14:36 AM | Conversations
Conversations
One to one
Talking about the weather
Talking about the sun
Talking about the wind
The clouds and the rain
Conversations
Going around again
Conversations
Words spoken
Tears in between
Laughter and joking
Talking about politics
The budget the economy
Talking about religion
Perhaps Deuteronomy
Conversations
Talking to oneself
Nobody listening
Poor mental health
Taking about sport
Talking football
Talking about rugby
The scrum and the maul
Taking about the match
Ad-infinitum
Talking about whatever
Is likely to excite them
Conversations
Devious twisted
Talking about topics
Usually blacklisted
Talking in metaphors
About life and facts
Then out of the blue
Talking about sex
Conversations
Getting flirty
Conversations
Turning dirty
Conversations
On internet sites
Talking about underwear
Crutch less tights
Conversations
It’s always the same
Women are innocent
Men get the blame
Conversations
Don’t you dare talk to me
For from conversations
I like to stay free | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/21/2012 2:34:52 PM | The Road Less Travelled
She had grandiose tastes
For one as simple as I
So many places to visit
Before she did die
The strange and the exotic
The distant and the far
By ship and by plane
Not by bus or by car
By the Orient Express
She wanted to travel
Not by bike or by foot
On bit-mac or over gravel
The Seychelles she said
In the Indian Ocean
She wanted to drink Chablis
Or other such potions
She wanted to visit Aztecs
Inca Civilizations
And somewhere in the Bahamas
To bring her elation
She was far to grandiose
For someone as simple as me
Except for that one day
When she asked for a can of peas
Canned peas I quizzed
Only to be rebuked
With such feeling of contempt
A distained look
She wanted to see Hong Kong
And Zanzibar
She wanted to travel first class
She wanted to go far
To the Indian Sundarbans
To Table Top Mountain
And dance in Rome
In a classical fountain
To see the aurora borealis
And climb Ayers Rock
She would tease me
How she would mock
When I said I was content
Nowhere else did I wish to go
Except to the Western Isles
Passing through Glencoe
Nowhere else in this world
Did I wish to visit before I die
Than the Great Glen and Loch Ness
On my way to Skye
No other Continent
No other cuisine or style
No other landscape
That the green Glens of Argyle
So we agreed to differ
She went on her way
She to somewhere called Patagonia
And I to Dumfries and Galloway | |
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| Partisan Poems
Posted: 3/22/2012 2:21:58 PM | Chris Rea Review
Standing watching Chris Rea
Playing the Ace of Hearts
Listening to the music
Smelling the farts
Of the fat old ladies
In the Ulster Hall
All aged about fifty
At the Chris Rea Ball
Middle aged chubbie’s
With their husbands in tow
Listening to Josephine
Watching the show
Chubby Chaser husbands
And boy-friends et al.
Sweating profusely
At the Ulster Hall
The crowd were bopping
The bellies were flagging
Shirts well padded
Looking like lagging
Listening to Julia
Before Driving Home
Snapping Chris’s photo
On the mobile cell phones
Rotund bellies
No waists in sight
It suddenly struck me
This isn’t right
Middle aged women
With their middle aged spreads
Gyrating nay wobbling
Before going to bed
Looking for the Summer
Way back On the Beach
Unfortunately their toes
Were way out of reach
Then came the stench
That whiff that strange smell
From the chubby fat women
On the road to hell | |
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