Tag Archives: poetry blogs

There Once Was an Author Named Kafka

There once was an author named Kafka

Whose books are all lacking in laughter.

There can be no denial,

For I have it on file:

His books are all lacking in laughter.

Miss Nicola

A young lady known as Miss Nicola

Invites all the gentlemen to tickle her.

My friend Heather

Dresses in leather

And no gentlemen dares to tickle her …

Threadbare

The scent of cheap perfume

Pervades an overheated room.

She in her mini skirt

And too high heels.

He in t-shirt and jeans.

 

They play their scenes.

She loses skirt and heels

And feels

The threadbare carpet under her feet.

She wants to sleep …

 

Sometimes she weeps,

But not in front of them.

He sighs.

His fun is done.

Occasionally he cries,

Though not when they can see.

 

The same dance

Of no romance

Over and over again

To hide his pain.

 

She has a child to feed

Or perhaps some other need.

Sometimes  he wonders about them.

But they are free

As is he …

To choose …

 

Lorna and the Sauna

I am dating a young lady named Lorna

Who works in some kind of sauna.

When I say, “what goes on there?”

She refers me to her colleague Claire –

Who refers me back to Miss Lorna …

Lin’s Disertation

I know a young lady named Lin

Who is writing a dissertation on sin.

My wife Coral

Finds her immoral.

But I’m really quite fond of Lin …

Role Play

When a dominant young lady named Fay

Said, “lets all indulge in role play!”

And severe Miss Jane

Produced a large cane,

I made my excuses that day …!

A Young Lady Whose Name is Mustard

A young lady whose name is Mustard

Said, “you are a no good bustard!”

I said to her, “Beth,

You bore me to death!

Go wash your hair in egg custard!”

 

Shadows of Poetry

In early January

My shadow goes in front of me.

The sun shines

But my hands are cold.

 

One day I know

My shadow will no longer go.

Though perhaps in rhyme

I will leave something behind

And people may see

Something of me.

For poets make shadows

Through their poetry

Magpie

She left her hair extension.

I kept it for her

Knowing she would return.

There was no pretension

That she was my lover.

 

 

Others have left things behind.

A girl left an earring.

I have always returned

But have never learned.

A sad magpie

Am I.

 

A Young Lady’s Vice

A young lady who is extremely nice

Is known for her love of vice.

She is fond of cake

And loves a good steak.

And now lets discuss that girl’s vice …