Poetry...

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< Therapy > This Girl I knew, well she was dating me, Been nine months and all seemed fine, Things were going swimmingly, Things seemed so grand, she was divine But then one day it struck me. This girl needs therapy! You ask me now why I think therapy, Well, the days were dark and weather alpine December time and children queued behind me, And that’s when I got these thoughts of mine As she sat there on Santa’s knee She sat on his knee, with unimaginable glee, A smile that warmed the soul, but soon sent shivers down my spine, She twirled her hair and fluttered her eyes as she sat there placed upon his knee He talked with her for days it seemed, this girl I loved, so divine She stroked his chest, and sat there still never once looking at me Ok I didn’t want to sit on his knee But much crying and screaming from the kids in line With mothers quite contently blaming me But have some consideration please. I’m beginning to suspect its not quit so benign My girl loves Santa... now that’s gotta be bad for me My next words for hours in my head refine Waiting for when she finally leaves and comes back to me My thoughts on this I’d need to outline But to say that I’m jealous of Santa? She’s going to think I’m touchy! How do I tell her and it not seem like a whine? "You need help, you need therapy" She stares at me, hands landing firmly on her waistline My heart stops, hands damp with worry Did I just say that?! Oh man, look at that frown! Why did I speak so frankly?! "This about me being on Santa’s Knee?" How could she be so abrupt? My thoughts racing I try to confine "You sat there and stroked him, flirting, with a face filled with glee. Wrapped up in your own special world, with me left distant on the sideline Three months down the line and Santa kills any thoughts you may have for me" "Girl I love you but you need therapy, Helping you with this I’m going to have to decline, You can’t get that kind of help from me. I’m sure things will work out just fine With the help you get laid out on a settee" She smiled and placed her hands on me "There’s something I haven’t told you. A secret I’ve kept for a month... or nine, Santa there, the man I stared at with eyes so dreamy He lives at that little house of mine. We’re married you see... ...Sorry"

< The Many Whys of Women - and answers to a few> Women have many whys about them Things that few can grasp, least of all us poor men So some help I’ll give in this short poem And soon the house shall one again be filled with karmic Zen Question one: Does My Bum Look Big In this? This one truly makes our heartbeat run How to give an answer and not take the piss A good starts always just not tell the truth But then where’s that ever gotten you’ll Remember back to your sprightly youth Say yes and run you fool Question two: You love me right? Won’t a simple cuddle do? You better answer well, or it’ll be the settee tonight This one’s never easy And you know she won’t settle for anything less She’s staring, watching your eye’s closely Looking for any signs of distress Maybe you’re best bets to lie Or maybe you should say she’s swell At least that’s an honest reply But don’t expect any answer to not make her yell Question three: And this one’s usually not given much time to consider answer You want to come in for coffee? With alcohols help, through the door you’ll inevitably sunder But is it wise? What the heck’s this broads name anyway! The coffee’s probably a good idea in your state mind, And its probably best to avoid a discussion and just say OK Anyway, its just coffee and she’s just being kind ...You’re an ugly bugger after all, its JUST coffee.

< Ugly Man Meets Mr Bush> Imagine the fun that would be had If Mr Bush met Ugly man. The pure genius of a trip to Baghdad Well done Mr Bush. So far that’s your finest plan! I doubt anyone could stand the presence of you or ugly man... oh this is going to end bad!! Oh look. Here comes self exploding fanatical man!

See the dramitisation of this fine literary work HERE

< Goodo > The English Language was a wonderful art Back in the day when you went to war with tea in hand Chocks away, jolly good show old chap…ah, it warms the heart But recently I’ve heard it mistreated firsthand By some knocked up gipsy tart Why can’t such use be banned?

< Cincinnati> I went for a drive, of all the places to Cincinnati Came as a slight surprise, living nowhere near Ohio It really was a slightly worrying puzzle to me Last I knew was a rolling Dorset meadow Well, I guess it’s a nice holiday for free It’s just the return journey may be slightly slow

< "French Military Victories"> A search once done for "French Military Victories" was done It all worked fine and results abound But hidden away with a little bit of immature fun Google’s ‘I’m feeling lucky’ was used, and the result I’m sure won’t astound French military victories probably already strikes u as a silly notion "No standard web pages containing all your search terms were found." A corrections given however, that I wish to share with fellow kinsmen "Did you mean: French military defeats"

Poems:

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Mr.Ederic

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