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 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 576
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Partisan PoemsPage 24 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)
Ego-centric Individuals

One after one
They bragged about themselves
Such was the fear
Of old maids and high shelves
They inflated their egos
With descriptions untrue
Super human beings
Unlike me or you
These self acclaimed people
With egotistic minds
So very talented
So loving so kind
Without one drop of humility
No sense of proportion
Inflating their worth
Magnifying the distortion
As boasted of their talents
They embellished their careers
Minimised their discomforts
Diminished their fears
They who shall remain nameless
Though they’re everywhere to be seen
Live life in a bubble
Live life in a dream
No sense of reality
They excel in PR
Marketing themselves no differently
Than a second hand car
These ego-centric individuals
With their exaggerated claims
Always seeking glory
Always seeking fame
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 577
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Posted: 7/19/2012 2:29:58 PM
Fair Play

She had it all
Everything materialistic
Then cancer set in
And she went ballistic
She discarded the trinkets
The gourmet meals with wine
Trying to cleanse her soul
And clear her mind
She had all she very wanted
Then cancer took hold
Then and only then
Did she think about her soul
The trinkets meant nothing
The good life and the career
She reappraised her existence
Such was her fear
Her material possessions
Her status and her job
Cancer arrived
And her life it did rob
It took her existence
And turned it upside down
And she stood on soft sand
Not solid ground
All that was of importance
Dissipated into thin air
As she started praying to her God
And asked him to play fair
She returned to her church
Started saying devotions
Such was the fear
The frightening emotions
She reassessed her lifestyle
And discovered prayer
But cancer doesn’t discriminate
And it rarely plays fair
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 578
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Posted: 7/21/2012 2:17:37 PM
The Bankrupt Lover

We had to part
It was all mathematics
I showed her the sums
The stats and the graphics
I showed her the columns
The trial balance sheet
The decision was made
No more could we meet
She wanted too much
I offered too little
She wanted sweat
I offered spittle
She wanted a ring
I offered her shoes
I gave her good craic
She gave me the blues
She wanted things
Only rich men could give
I wanted good health
As long as I live
She needed possessions
Brand spanking new
To keep her amused
Well what could I do
She was well over fifty
Yet she over indulged
Long losing the battle
The one with the bulge
She didn’t like walking
She preferred taxis and cars
She didn’t like the Glens
Preferring pubs and old bars
I worked out the sums
The profit and the loss
The rate of return
The reward and the cost
Took advice from my accountant
Who said this woman was corrupt
It was then I told her
I was finally bankrupt
I told her I was broke
I had nothing else left
She didn’t get excited
She didn’t sound bereft
She simply packed her bags
Took her new mobile phone
And now I’m free
Of that greedy old crone
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 579
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Posted: 7/21/2012 2:47:53 PM
Free

Free from anger
Bitterness and pain
Free to live
To start again
Free to look forward
Not to look back
Free to love
Free to neglect
Free to do whatever
Whatever is right or wrong
Free to write stupid crap
Or to sing one’s own sweet song
Free to drink the cheapest beer
Free to smoke some dope
Free to screw Iris Robinson
Or free to f*ck the Pope
Free to f*ck the clergy
Instead of them molesting us
Free to lance all social boils
And let all see the puss
Free to hate politicians
Free to watch a match
Free to smoke a little nicotine
Or free to wear a patch
Free in my twilight years
Not to give a shit
Free to call the Prime Minister
A f*cking little twit
Free to mock the professors
In their comfortable little chairs
With their heads up their arses
And their puerile nasal hairs
Free to critique the peelers
Now fat and tiny creatures
Free to laugh at one’s own looks
One’s own genetic features
Free to laugh at the Unions
And the Captains of Industry
Free free free at last
Free I’m fu*king free
Free from the little prison
Built up from one’s own youth
Free to savage falsehoods
Often portrayed as truth
Free to sit and contemplate
The meaning of this life
Free to take a lover
Free to refuse a wife
Free to do almost anything
Free without the fear
Freedom ever increases
As death gets ever near
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 580
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Posted: 7/22/2012 3:32:06 AM
Old Time Love

She let me have sex
Full penetration
After forty one years
It was our generation
Not to rush in
Until she gave you her flower
Not like today’s kids
Who do it in the first hour
We took things slowly
First to be friends
Before full sex
And now at the end
Just before death
At last I’ve got laid
Full penetrative sex
And not in the bed
With her flannelette nighty
Removed to her knees
And her Bridget Jones panties
Showing to tease
No feeble excuses
No headaches et al.
She opened her legs
And in I did fall
She said she was ready
This was the right time
But I'd better be quick
It was nearly half nine
My first was my last time
It was over too soon
I felt like Neil Armstrong
Standing on the moon
She asked if I was finished
For she wanted to sleep
She was no longer a virgin
And so she did weep
No more a virgin
Aged seventy eight
Then she promised me a blow job
When she reached eighty eight
Only ten years of patience
Well perhaps closer to nine
And maybe when she reaches one hundred
We can try sixty nine
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 581
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Posted: 7/22/2012 3:58:13 AM
Conundrums

The girls that I like
Detest me
Another of life’s conundrums
For all to see
Another paradox
Incompatible mates
Irony the brother
The concubine of fate
Sophisticated ladies
Debonair
Don’t take kindly
To the clothes that I wear
Obese woman
Don’t turn my on
For soon they’ll be dead
Soon they’ll be gone
Why fall for a woman
Soon to die
Why tell her fibs
Why tell her a lie
If you’re looking for a future
Why choose a nicotine junkie
Or a woman who laughs
And sounds like a donkey
I know I’m not perfect
I’m small and I’m bald
The psychiatrist said special
That’s what I was called
She called me special
A one-off she said
Before she shot herself
And ended up dead
I’m one of life’s conundrums
My hand from fate
A few cards missing
From a deck dealt late
I’m a few pennies missing
I’m not the full shilling
So said the woman
Who hailed from Enniskillen
I’ve a few screws loose
I’m not the full deck
But then for a life that’s normal
I’ve no respect
I’ve a perchance for girls
Exotic and erotic
But the women I love
Are those who deemed neurotic
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 582
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Posted: 7/22/2012 7:26:12 AM
The Foundling

Born a foundling
No family no name
No hope for a future
No hope to find fame
Passed from pillar
Passed onto post
Her mother a whore
Her father a ghost
No brothers no sisters
No uncles no aunts
No hunger for memories
Just reasons and rants
Born and abandoned
Cared for by the State
No hope of finding love
No hope of a mate
Too deep the wounds
By life long’s denial
Waiting for God
Hoping for a trial
Seeking to find
On that great judgement day
Why born a foundling
Why created that way
Why no parents
No kith or no kin
Was her conception
A mistake or a whim
Why forsaken
From birth to the grave
Born to a harlot
Conceived with a knave
Why no joy
Just sadness and sorrow
The foundling looks past
Today and tomorrow
Awaiting her entry
At God’s pearly gates
To confront her maker
To decry her fate
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 583
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Posted: 7/22/2012 9:17:50 AM
New Age Guy

Within his wardrobe
His most precious possessions
That was his statement
That was his confession
His silk white shirts
To many to count
All worth a small fortune
Worth a considerable amount
His tailored suits
All Savile Row
Some cut tight
Some hanging low
Silk lined jackets
That he wore to Cannes
This cultured creature
This New Age Man
A collection of silk ties
Some in satin
Names of designers
In French and in Latin
Garments from Paris
Rome and Cologne
Various colours
Numerous tones
Some unworn
Brand spanking new
One or two classics
But only a few
Fragrances from Klein
Lacoste and Rabanne
All considered a must have
For the New Age Man
His wardrobe changes
Every other year
Continually updated
Such is his fear
Of becoming outdated
Not in keeping with fashion
This New Age man loathes obsolescence
With a vengeance with a passion
His most precious possessions
His three piece suits
All perfectly ironed
With razor sharp flutes
His shoes of leather
All polished all gleaming
As he stares at his collection
Smiling and dreaming
Contented satisfied
He’s a New Age Guy
With the love of his life
No word of a lie
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 584
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Posted: 7/22/2012 9:51:01 AM
Voyeur

I read the profiles
And I start to weep
Realising I’m fortunate
One of the elite
I’ve all I could wish for
I couldn’t want for more
I don’t have to find love
Or want to be adored
I don’t need to find happiness
In some person other
Thank you dear god
And my father and mother
For not being dependent
On other people or things
To find contentment
And all that it brings
Thank you fate
For my particular direction
I don’t need a lover
To get an erection
I don’t need a companion
To have a discourse
And I don’t need to drink
Or to bet on a horse
I don’t need to smoke dope
Or stick needles in my arms
To regurgitate my food
Or cause self harm
I’m so very fortunate
I’m one of the few
Reading these profiles
I don’t know about you
But so many needy people
All wanting something else
A lover well educated
Or a partner with wealth
I read these profiles
And I say a little prayer
But for the grace of God
I could go there
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 585
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Posted: 7/22/2012 10:31:38 AM
The Average Woman

She described herself
As being of ‘average frame’
So I decided to meet
Much to my shame
I read her spiel
Without any photo
I trusted her judgement
Without one iota
She said she was average
But methinks she lied
For she was a size twenty seven
She was fifty inches wide
That’s not average
Did she think I was blind
Or my standards were so low
I simply wouldn’t mind
Wider than taller
She was a little rotund
Too many pasties
Too many buns
Maybe it’s me
Or has average got bigger
As I stood aghast
I tried not to sn*gger
I worked out her calories
Her BMI
And if I didn’t laugh
I swore I would cry
I paid two pounds fifty
To get on a bus
I even had a shave
And all of that fuss
To try and impress
This big tub of lard
Forgive me for laughing
Perhaps I am hard
But it wasn’t me lied
I’m a skinny wee runt
This woman was lying
She was acting the ‘clown’
She wasn’t average
She wasn’t size sixteen
She was a fecking disgrace
She was fat she was obscene
I realise average
Has been increasing in girth
People are getting fatter
All over this earth
Too lazy to train
Too much effort to run
So their bellies get massive
And drop to their bum
She had frittered away
God’s one precious gift
She had destroyed her body
And boy did she whiff
Putrid stale sweat
Mixed with fat lard
I swear I’m not vicious
I swear I’m not hard
I’m just being honest
One body we are given
One body we must care for
For seventy years of living
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 586
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Posted: 7/23/2012 9:54:17 AM
Non-Judgemental (Or I hate non-judgemental people)

I was too judgemental
The non-judgemental lady said
I gave her words some thought
Twirled them around my head
Can one be too judgemental?
Too opinionated in this here life
And if so is that a bar
To getting a partner or a wife
And is it ever slightly so paradoxical
Judgemental to be portrayed
By an person claiming to be non-judgemental
Or at least that’s what she said
After a few moments thinking
I finally had to agree
I’m judgemental and extremely opinionated
So hang me now from the tree
I make judgements day and daily
I have my loves and I have my hates
I dislike arrogant pompous asses
And people carrying too much weight
I dislike extremes of violence
I think politicians are a complete waste of space
And those shallow celebrities from the TV
Should be exiled from this human race
I love looking at all things beautiful
I judge beauty every moment of the day
Be it people or actions or landscapes
I judge in my own special way
I judge ugly in all its disguises
The virtue of free speech I think
And I can pass an opinion often learned
Without an inebriating drink
I’m not a non-judgemental person
Someone un-opinionated without a point of view
Those who claim to be non-judgemental
They should go to the back of the queue
For they lie to me and to all others
Claiming non-judgemental is part of their creed
For here they are on a dating site
Making judgements about who shall succeed
We all here are making judgements
Some people we love some we hate
For making a judgement is central
To finding a partner or a mate
Non-judgemental means having no opinions
No tastes no preferences no voice
Non-judgmental means being castrated
Is non-judgement something to be rejoiced?
Who wants to be non-judgemental?
About religion about God about law
So forgive me dear lady I suggest to you
Being judgemental is never a flaw
I’m proud to be judgemental
I’ve being outed from the closet today
I’m opinionated I’m extremely judgemental
So feck off now please go away
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 587
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Posted: 7/23/2012 10:15:52 AM
Premature Dating

I should have known better
She was six months separated
So she sat and got drunk
Totally inebriated
She sat for over three hours
B*tched, b*tched, b*tched
No wonder he left her
The moaning auld witch
Feck she moaned about everything
Pessimistic b*tch
She hated her auld fella
He was poor he wasn’t rich
He was a loosey provider
On account of no money
He never took her holdiays
To places that were sunny
Yet he never had two pennies
Not a cent to his name
He was just a hard grafter
Jimmy was his name
Then she moaned about her family
Her siblings and her bairns
The more her mouth opened
The more that I learned
I learned that I was better
Off on my own
Than ending up with some auld b*tch
Separated who would moan
I learned being on one’s own
Doesn’t have to mean being lonely
If only I had learnt that before I met her
If only if only
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 588
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Posted: 7/24/2012 2:40:46 PM
Scottish Journey

From Loch Ryan
I wondered on
Heading north
I travelled long
Past the Rhinns
Of Galloway
My journey started
T’was one fine day
Past Girvan town
Then onto Ayr
The skies were blue
The weather fair
Onward north
Up to Ardrossan
And to the boat
For the Arran crossing
From Goatfell peak
I fair could see
Across the Clyde
And the Irish Sea
Across Kintyre
And to Argyle
I sat for a time
Perhaps a while
Looking over
Still blue seas
I sat and wondered
In the still breeze
Colours green
Of many shades
And tartan kilts
Of many braids
Then onto Tarbert
I did travel
My journey still
To unravel
To find some comfort
A warm clean bed
I wondered on
To Lochgilphead
Then onto Oban
I did roam
Again to cross
The bright blue foam
Across Loch Linnhe
And the straights of Mull
I was called
I was pulled
To that North West coast
And cliffs of granite
I walked with brogues
And brand new bonnet
Cool soft winds
From the Atlantic Ocean
They kept me fresh
Like some strange lotion
Then without a stop
Without a rest
To Tobermory
I began my quest
To catch a boat
To the Western Hills
Where glens and munros
Cure all ills
And from the shore
Rhum came into view
The dark Cullins beckoned
And then I knew
Onto Skye
I would venture
Like a man on a mission
With a debenture
Cross Loch Huran
Onto Skye
Where men sit and wonder
And come to die
To be laid to rest
In tranquillity
When the hills of Skye
Set all men free
Then over the Bridge
I journeyed on
For Eilean Donan
Sang her song
That little isle
Though twee and quaint
T’was once the home
Of the Irish Saint
Now cloaked in cloud
And Scottish mist
T’was there I rested
And I got pissed
On some hard liquor
From whiskey stills
I eased my troubles
With mellow thrills
Then upwards north
To Torridon
I went my way
I journeyed on
To walk on hills
Where few men walk
I heard only silence
No song or talk
Just deafening silence
Over Torridon’s shores
Could I want so much
Could I ask for more
Time was pressing
I had to flee
For more drink awaited
At Loch Maree
Not to tarry
Or stay too long
Then east I travelled
For the sun was gone
The rains had come
They were here to stay
So to Inverness
I went my way
Sheets of rain
Cats and dogs
Rivers on roads
Land now bogs
So I upped my bags
And travelled south
Past the firth of forth
Across the mouth
Across the Tweed
Past Berwick’s walls
Lindisfarne
I heard it’s call
And across the causeway
To the Holy Isle
There I did rest
And stay a while
Then once rested
West past the borders
I travelled home
To abide by orders
Past Coldstream’s river
And Jedburgh’s piles
I headed West
I travelled miles
Down past the Borders
Where Reviver’s raided
I was feeling tired
Yes I was jaded
Onto Dumfries
Past Loch Ken
I was coming home
I was near my end
My journey over
At Cairnryan
Wonders of Scotland
There’s no denying
 iceaxe
Joined: 3/13/2008
Msg: 589
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Posted: 7/24/2012 3:08:59 PM
with short little lines a few words long
he pens a painting most often quite long
his poems long and narrow though his vision wide
with little to hide and much to deride

a small little sparrow flitting wire to wire
seeming never to pause yet never to tire
t'were it ink from a pen on a parchment quite long
many pints of black would be long gone

all the best to you, birdy!
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 590
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Posted: 7/25/2012 7:35:51 AM
My friend you're still living - Allah be praised!!

The Time Waster

Guilty as charged
For I waste time
So she refused to write
To drop me a line
She refused to acknowledge me
I didn’t exist
For I wasted time
In my idiotic bliss
She said t’is true
Time Wasters where banned
Seems of time wasting
She wasn’t a fan
But what was the harm
Where was the wrong
For time is free
And to no one belongs
I wasn’t stealing
Or abusing time
Maybe I’m abnormal
Out of my mind
Wasting hours
Perhaps even days
I was a criminal it seems
Because of my ways
Well Dear Lady
Let me confirm
I’ m a fecking time waster
I’ve nothing to learn
I waste time writing verses
I waste time writing rhymes
I waste time on auld biddies
Like you all the time
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 591
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Posted: 7/25/2012 9:53:48 AM
Herr Dokter Guttenberg PHD

The lies and cheats
Of the political brigade
As they try to save us
In their great crusade
As they try to save us
We the great unwashed
The political elite
Omnipotent unabashed
These men of the state
These statesmen like figures
Forgive me for laughing
As I smile and sn*gger
More and more
Not just a small few
Have been caught plagiarising their degrees
Smell the stink smell the pooh
Herr Dokter Guttenberg
The German Defence Minister
His dissertation was copied
Nothing really sinister
When you’re a member of the government
You can cheat and you can lie
Still he had to resign
With a tear in his eye
The Hungarian President
He copied his script
Now he’s resigned
And remains tight lipped
Romanian Prime Ministers
Ministers of the State
All plagiarising their degrees
Isn’t life great
Cheats and charlatons
Every single one
To be lined up and shot
At the barrel of the gun
Stealing other’s ideas
Plagiarising text
No wonder I hate these feckers
And have zero respect
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 592
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Posted: 7/27/2012 10:21:10 AM
Satan’s Spawn

She wrote to me
In text speak
Looking for conversation
The lady did seek
So I read her profile
And near dropped dead
These were the words
That the same lady said
I’m having some trouble
Filling in these lines
It’s taking so long
A very long time
How many more words
Must I rite
To complete this profile
This dont seam rite
I dont no wat 2 rite
I don’t no wat 2 say
LOL LOL LOL
And I started to pray
Her profile contained
No description
No photograph
To meet prescription
She only wrote to confirm
That she couldn’t be as*ed
Filling in her profile
Too hard was the task
She couldn’t be bothered
To write a few lines
It was far too much trouble
To difficult for her mind
She seemed to think
Her incompetence was endearing
That men would come sniffing
Men would come leering
Doh, you cretin
You idiot you fool
Who or what
Are you hoping to pull
An illiterate man
Who can’t read and can’t write
Or a man who’s an ass
And doesn’t give a sh*te
Please don’t write to me again
Saying just LOL
You fifty year old child
You demon from Hell
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 593
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Posted: 7/28/2012 10:35:20 AM
Patience is a Virtue

Waiting for the summer
Waiting for a date
Waiting for tomorrow
The day that always comes late
Waiting for the sunshine
But all I see is the rain
Waiting it seems for forever
Waiting I’m waiting again
Waiting for the good times
Waiting for that person called a mate
Waiting, waiting I’m waiting
Cursing and moaning at fate
Waiting for the tide to turn
Waiting for the cycle to end
Waiting patiently forever
Is driving me completely around the bend
Waiting because I’m lazy
Not getting up of my fat ar*se
Blaming fate and destiny
Not seeing my life is a farce
Waiting when I should be doing
Waiting when I should get up and go
Waiting for something I don’t know what
Waiting for someone I don’t know
Waiting I’m waiting and I don’t know why
Not empowering myself today
Waiting for tomorrow when yesterday is gone
Fritting my whole life away
So much of my life has been wasted waiting
So many years feeling frustrated
And all because I was told it was a virtue
Of being patient so I waited
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 594
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Posted: 7/28/2012 11:07:03 AM
Ignorant

I was ignorant so she told me
And she had no respect for ignorant people
As she got up upon her high horse
Her pinnacle upon her steeple
She nailed her colours to the mast
Firmly to her cross
She who was telling me I was ignorant
She acted like some frigging boss
I replied in my self contained manner
Misses please pray tell
I require some further information
For your words have struck a bell
Could you illuminate me am I ignorant
Because I’m stupid or ill mannered or dumb
I asked if respect was automatically given
Was there a law maybe a rule of thumb
I asked if respect required earning
And wasn’t an entitlement for all
Maybe she was referring to the Bible
Something preached by John or by Paul
I asked if being stupid merited hatred
Or if being ill-mannered was a crime
It was then she gave me the two fingers
Paradoxically she gave me a sign
She stopped all further communication
For I am an ignoramus so she said
Except when she had multiple orgasms
Every night when I came to her bed
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 595
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Posted: 7/28/2012 11:22:30 AM
Multiple Orgasms

I want a woman who has multiple orgasms
Not just one or perhaps two
So I’m wondering if whoever is reading this
Has multiple orgasms, maybe, perhaps, even you
I’m looking for multi-orgasmal
A woman who has sensations one after the other
I don’t want a woman taking three hours
To be my next and last lover
I don’t mind if she’s fat or heavey
Black or yellow would be a big bonus
The only requirement that I ask for
Multiple orgasmic is the main onus
I don’t mind if the lady is a midget
Or a lady-boy if she has thirty six inch breasts
So long as she has multiple orgasms
And doesn’t go to bed just to rest
I don’t want a woman to sleep with
Well not until five or six in the morn
I want a woman who takes me to the bedroom
And orgasms the way they do shooting porn
I want to wake up the neighbours
I want to hear them banging on the walls
And is she happens to live on the Shankill
I want to wake them up on the Falls
I want a woman who has multiple orgasms
Who is never just satisfied with one
But the only woman who is in contention
Is the one I pay on the phone
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 596
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Posted: 7/28/2012 2:57:24 PM
Whiskey Thoughts

Solace she sough
Each night on her own
In the bottles of Scotch
Drinking alone
Solace she found
Come ten or eleven
When the bottles were empty
And she thought about Heaven
Meeting her maker
Was praying on her mind
Peace and contentment
She was looking to find
Solace in the bottle
Contentment with drink
Makes a body wonder
Makes a person think
Hell when sober
Without the drink or the pills
Only the whiskey
Brought her some thrills
At first it was one bottle
Now one had become two
He swore he would stay faithful
He swore he’d stay true
But young men are feckless
Unfaithful in their youth
Not known for their honesty
Not paragons of the truth
He swore he would love her
Would make her his own
Now each night she drinks whiskey
Each night on her own
Remembering the promises
On a young man long dead
And the promises he made her
And the words that he said
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 597
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Posted: 7/28/2012 3:15:30 PM
Intimate Encounter

I’m looking to be honest
For an intimate encounter
Not just a quick f*ck
Not just to mount her
I’m looking it seems
For what many people dread
I’m looking for intimacy
That moment in bed
When two souls are united
When two hearts beat slow
When unions of minds
Far places do go
When loving becomes giving
When two people become one
That moment of intimacy
That eclipse of the sun
I’m looking for that intimacy
Most people don’t achieve
Some never go searching
Some people don’t believe
Some people are fearful
The word often scares
Going far beyond friendship
Or partners who care
I’m looking for that moment
The encounter that’s intimate
That most people seem to ridicule
That some people appear to hate
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 598
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Posted: 7/31/2012 1:52:17 PM
Wanted - a good hearted man?

She was looking for a good hearted man
And me with my angina
She with the over active thyroid
And her never satisfied vagina
No wonder I thought
Reflecting back
She needed a good functioning heart
On account of all the sex
She was what some might call
And old fashioned nymph
She banged to the right side
On account of her limp
But her one gammy leg
Never once held her back
She liked to make love
But preferred having sex
I told some little white lies
I was fit I was able
I liked to eat whipped cream
But not of a plate on a table
I didn’t mind being punishment
Or being put in detention
And for hours upon end
I could stand to attention
I think that’s what sealed it
So we arranged out first date
Unfortunately I came a little too early
And she came far too late
It was then that it suddenly hit me
Why she wanted a man with a good heart
For she let off a belter
When she started to fart
The smell was disgusting
She farted when she came
She said it was hereditary
Her mother got the blame
The bedroom wafted
Every time she was pleased
Of rotten cabbage and mushrooms
Baked beans and mushy peas
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 599
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Posted: 7/31/2012 2:14:32 PM
The Lady doth Protest too loudly

I’ve never farted
During sex she protested
I beg to differ
I hotly contested
Then she got holier than thou
Took the hump
Gave me a dirty look
Then a whacking great thump
Feck where’s your sense of humour
I said in a flash
Feeling my cheek
And a new red rash
My sense of humour!
It’s normal not sick
Then she called me a moron
I was an idiot I was thick
Jez woman are crazy
Sensitive creatures
They hated it when we men
Act as mentors and teachers
They’re so competitive
They can’t stand positive criticism
Or pointing out their errors
Or jibes or witticisms
I’ve never farted
When making love
She said like some angel
A cherub a dove
I’ve never let off wind
Or let off steam
I’m a lady she says
I use deodorants and cream
Then she started to gurn
She looked glum and down-hearted
And as a whimsical paradox
Once again she farted
Q E D
I immediately said
Then the air turned blue
And she went off her head
 bird on the wire
Joined: 6/13/2007
Msg: 600
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Posted: 8/1/2012 6:29:47 AM
Misrepresentations

She was vivacious she was voluptuous
But I reckoned she was just fat
She stated she was an executive
Who owned her own penthouse flat
It seems that this particular lady
When using self-descriptions
Used artistic licence
Way beyond prescription
Her executive ‘status’
Was actually cleaning the latrines
Filling the multi-pack durex
Within toilet vending machines
Her flat wasn’t a penthouse
As she once described the flat to me
It was cramped it was tiny
And it reeked of feline pee
She told all who would listen
That she had passed her PHD
She was moving up the corporate ladder
Climbing up the social tree
She had the key to the bathroom
On the upper executive suite
She was a high flying executive
One of the corporate elite
She used titles and descriptions
To inflate her lowly station
Her persona was an illusion
Based on ego grade inflation
Her car a new convertible
Ten years old with a hole in the roof
She never spoke 100% lies
But neither did she tell the wholesome truth
She was more to be pitied
Than denigrated or condemned
Deeply unfulfilled
By her family and her friends
She hated her life’s position
Her station living with us lowly plebs
She was looking for the good life
With high financiers and TV celebs
Self delusional with her own self loathing
Suffering from inadequacies of societal grandeur
We politely nodded and kept our counsel
When she pitied us for being poor
She was a Walter Mitty character
Misrepresentation was her middle name
As she distorted all and sundry
In her constant search for fame
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