Today's poems [2.11.18]
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There was a young man named Wyatt
whose voice was exceedingly quiet
And then one day
it faded away...
Copyright; Robyn Scott
From her book 'It's Just a Matter of Perspective'
SEX is a TRANSACTION,
With emotional currency,
You're either lucky or an arsehole,
If you're getting it for free,
Some are prepared to barter flesh,
For company or affection,
A house, a car, a family,
Money or protection,
When morality is attached to
Guilt can reduce the pleasure,
Whereby with uninhibited
Comes ecstasy without measure.
There are those whom believe that, SEX is just for procreation,
While there are others for whom it is, Their favourite recreation,
There are people who only have,
SEX over the phone,
And others who are happy,
To do it on their own,
There are some who really get off,
On lingerie and leather,
And those who simply prefer,
To masturbate together.
Advice in Abundance
Unsolicited advice free and abundant:
So much of it there its often redundant.
When I was a lad and easily impressed:
I listened and nodded at the experts' behest.
Opinions they flaunted on a scale universal:
Expounding at length without forethought or rehearsal.
With style and emotion, each made a case:
Of factual content there was rarely a trace.
Middle age found me as the consummate cynic:
Quick to retort and given to mimic.
With the passage of time I relaxed my position:
Improvised wisdom doesn't require a logician.
In the twilight of life there is time for a chat:
I now render advice at the drop of a hat.
A Fishy 'Tail' of Woe
I've been hooked
I've been iced
I've been scaled
and then sliced
I've been stacked
I've been looked at
dipped in batter
and cooked in fat
I've been sold
I've been bought
then been wrapped
next to a chook
I've been driven
I've been opened
served with chips
who have not spoken
I've been picked at
I've been deboned
drenched in lemon juice
I feel so alone
I've been forked
I've been cut
I think I'm running
out of luck
Now he bites me
And despite me
I'm done...like a dinner!
Copyright; Arcadia Flynn
Over the lips, and down the throat,
May you never wake up, next to a goat.
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