~¤~Light Verse~¤~
Click on the jay for a light twittering of verse
***15 new poems - 12/1/01***
Your desires served at leisure
"You have delighted us long enough"
Mr Bennet
(Jane Austen)
~¤~Index~¤~
Click on titles for poems. Click on the jay
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Click on titles for poems. Click on the jay
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~¤~A languid cup of tea~¤~
Your passion is my pleasure
Your desires served at leisure
Your hands coil round that treasure
Yes - a languid cup to sip.
In these tea rooms they bewail,
The lack of pies and rustic ale,
While all those ladies quiver frail,
For that slice of cake you bit.
You know I crave this most,
To spread butter on your toast,
Among the condiments to coast,
For that moment marmalade.
With those fine white pearly teeth,
You'll provide me with relief,
And restore my lost belief,
The crunch of teeth relayed.
You can reach across to grasp,
Biscuits firmly in your clasp
With a warm vivacious laugh,
By those lips moistly defined.
I would love to plant a kiss,
But such behaviour is amiss,
And would have me soon dismissed
From the table of your mind.
~¤~Man of clay~¤~
The night had just begun,
When he walked into the room,
But, she was already wishing,
That he had gone off fishing,
Down the quarry in the distance,
near the park.
If only he would hurry,
She would not have to worry,
If he had not drunk that liquor,
Then he would be up much quicker,
Instead of hunting for excitement
In the dark.
She was so tired of this man,
And this night had other plans;
He got completely in her way,
Through the darkness and the day,
No matter if his diction
Might improve.
She was so tempted to direct,
With her paramour erect;
Every frantic rushed pulsation,
She engaged in conversation
To ask him if the earth was
Soon to move.
He laid his head upon her chest,
Curled his arm round her at rest;
Oh to make that rose appear,
For her to tuck behind her ear,
Would be the perfect ending
To the day.
She lay with eyes so wide and open,
Thinking that this love was token;
All his roses had such sharp thorns,
With her love for him stillborn,
Could she tolerate this saddest
Man of clay?
~¤~Protected species~¤~
Ode to a Great Hunger
In days of old when knights were bold and maidens took their chances
Here I post, my dearest host, the most foolish of romances;
No tales of great derring do or maidens saved from castles,
But appetites of one fat knight and Theo dragon - rascals!
I met that fat knight on these high cliffs, to learn his many duties,
The poor distressed, he must protect, against rampaging beauties.
Dressed in leather and chain mail, he held his spear aloft,
A creamy tan, befits the man, pink leather, very soft.
His boots, of course are maudlin black, the quality is finer,
Like tasty meats, he gave as treats, from plates of Doulton china.
Smiling affably he greeted me and launched his woeful tale,
The wretched yoke of dragonfolk: Oh! how the creatures ailed.
His best friend was a dragon - Theo - the name was quite absurd,
Despite his strength, his 12 yard length, that name he just preferred.
Friend Theo was completely timid, the true reptilian kind,
He only breathes fire when roused to ire, or when a wench he finds.
The priests and mothers rant at him, the head knight comes and rails.
The daily news, has such dim views, though his tastes boost their sales
Should all this hue and cry go on, for some exclusive feature,
Is all this fair, such deep despair, for this protected creature.
He really likes warm human flesh, but stays quite sore afraid,
Throughout the night, on high winged flight, he seeks a dairy maid.
Despite his scaly skin and teeth, he's a very gentle beast,
In his dark cave, he is not brave, but still he craves that feast.
Let maidens sweet, lie in their beds, of veggies, rice and dill,
For these young dears, to show such fear, is really foolish still.
Theirs is the smallest sacrifice, to show him due respect,
His appetites are fairly slight, though my needs are more suspect.
~¤~Querulous
Tongue in
Cheek~¤~
Under a big tree in the forest of my mind
Trist neath the foliage, together entwined
And wandering hands may creep unbidden
From off your cheek, down to your midden
Perhaps they patiently there will bide,
Until you gesture them inside?
And call them forth with gestures soft,
To raise your sweetness up aloft
There to sleep perchance to dream?
To make the little lady scream?
To cuddle her in scimian arms
As she calls forth in great alarm?
Draping her over one broad shoulder,
He disappears behind a boulder
There has his way with this fair maid,
Shrieks to squeaks and sighs do fade,
Then to gentle rest she wilts,
Buried in love up to the hilt.
~¤~Watching you for hours~¤~
There you, essence of beauty, silent lie,
Were you aware, that I was near to you;
Thoughts flicker on, exhaled with a sigh,
Your face so sculpted in my tender view;
Across the room I see a languourous stirring,
The sheet slides down, revealing pale flesh;
Breathing redolent of a feline's purring,
You smile as you wake, happy, refreshed;
Eyelids opening receptive at connotation,
Shivers run through flesh, precursing lust,
Do I but dare adore your perfumed fragrance,
Or should I do the housework, clearing dust;
I watch you, full of love, my morning flower,
Would you prefer, I vacuumed round your bower?
~¤~Snatching at verse~¤~
The gentle ebbing of rhythmic music,
Affects me so when I can choose it;
Unconsciously, my mind perceives,
Syllables dancing, words deceived;
Watching a laureat idly flower,
Revived fresh stanzas that empower.
Muse spencerian sonnet with elation,
Gyrate pentameter contemplation;
Astringent critics burnish crowns,
Incomplete haikus garner frowns;
Adhering to lost understanding,
Each trochee is still demanding.
Pander to iambic effervescence,
Allegories served in essence;
Broad horizons spread before me,
Snatching at verse, poetic glory.
~¤~Strange Stories~¤~
All kinds of strange stories,
Some cold hard facts,
Sedated, strapped down,
Accounted for;
In a semi coma --
A blushing hors d'oeuvres.
Hands tied to the keyboard,
Invoiced for payment,
Slip around,
Additional duties;
Still alive, I think,
Working for quiche and promises.
A fricassee of stationery cupboards,
Denied strawberry ink,
And soggy
Crested letterheads;
I can't continue forever,
Stapling to malevolent laughter.
~¤~Curdling the morning~¤~
Morning leers in through stained windows,
Haze fills the air thick with obscenity,
Criminal feet pat across sun stained tile,
To reach down into unguarded linen baskets;
And drape soft material over wrinkled faces,
Stealing exquisite scent into rasping lungs,
Painting the spicy cotton with gnarled tongues,
Paradoxical vigour, polluting, never destroying;
Until stress, anxiety and demented driving,
That hitherto prove so lusciously worthwhile,
In an arousing yet overly familiar tresspass,
Are ended by the tap on purloining shoulders:
Curdling the morning like drifting incense.
~¤~Listening skills ~¤~
Would my tongue t-tied pauses
...and s.s..s...stammers,
m..my anxious responses and
..er..hesitant enquiries
force controlling smiles
across your clever face?
Why would you not wait,
ears pricked expectantly,
for the gentle softness
of inconsequential whispers,
as my n.n..n...nervousness
appears to dissipate?
Will your surprisingly loud
and ever raucous laughter
illustrate absolute,
complete, dissonant reality,
That you can hear , but...
you listen too late?
~¤~ Topiary ~¤~
Strange hedges lose romantic affectation,
With your eccentric fussing over them,
The constant snips of pruning and preening,
Aligning them neatly with indiscrete style;
The aloof outward dignity of the plants,
Neatly offset by the leafy creatures above,
Branches uniquely and intriguingly twisted,
Counterbalancing that trimmed foliage;
Nature perverted by hours of patient toil,
To create those obscene topiary figures.
~¤~Destroying an image~¤~
Turning a little more towards him,
Beginning the slow journey,
Moving her thighs apart.
Sense all that cloying stickiness,
Of her viscous juiciness,
Ever lubricious
Hear the moist squelching sounds,
As those thickly coated walls,
Pull away from each other.
Legs moved inexorably apart,
With slow ordained dignity
So very controlled
A pair of mechanical canal locks,
Gates opening to receive
A much desired barge.
Toot Toot
~¤~ The first note~¤~
The first note quietly infects the ether,
Ripple applause - anticipate the next;
Its echo floats around in quite a fever,
Magical chord created to perplex.
Playing, frail yet focused and intensive,
Dancing, over strings, her fingers lithe;
The synergy, achieved now, recompenses,
A sensuous rousing pattern, she devised.
Spread respectful silence, without indulgence,
Entice riches from her alchemy of sound;
Attention so consumed by her performance,
Astonished, at this music so profound.
Hypnotising, intimate, imperfect yet divine,
Delicious harmonies manipulate the mind.
~¤~Dinner Party Dreams ~¤~
Enlarged eyes at his frame, tall and desirous,
Her black dress leaves a shoulder very bare,
He stands behind, obliging, almost gracious,
Breathing on her neck, answering her prayer.
Will tender lips engage her in long kisses,
Imagine cyprian nibbles at her lobes;
The delightful dreamy shivers she dismisses,
If only he'd divest her of some clothes.
"Listen" he cajoles, a whispered purr,
But husky tones, will not, for long, elate;
Sulky in the shadows, she'll not demure,
Disappointedly, the lady evirates.
Then badly irritated by his platonic disposition,
She rises swifly, cloaked and flees from erudition.
~¤~ Domestic Science~¤~
My love will whisper "slowly", I'll comply,
Fingers slide across folds, soft and wet,
Watching all the lurid fabrics couple,
Voyeuristic moments, we will not forget;
Garments swim excited in hot moisture,
Against a background of protesting groans,
The grumbling concatination deafens,
Without subtle connection, I'm disowned;
I feel for compression, new found freedom,
I release fiddling vainly round the back,
Circling round so slyly for the end game,
Wordless, yet defenceless from attack.
Shrugging you turn, despairing at my solution,
As the spin dryer seeks its final absolution.
~¤~Illusion~¤~
A looking glass throws back its vision,
Through deliberate contradiction,
Creates perverted reality,
Leaving chilled sobriety;
The image seems so superficial,
Mirroring lives quite artificial,
No matter how pensive reflection,
Looking through glass is an illusion.
~¤~Love Hunger~¤~
A princess walking with reluctance
Submits the woodlands to inspection;
Absorbed by innermost feelings,
She's lost in verdant reflection.
Exhausted, reaching a bubbling stream,
Heels no match for the forest way;
Dropped the shoes upon the grass bank,
Sleep steals her from the drowsy day.
She wakened stiff, her belly craving,
Reliving vivid dreams of food,
The croaking of a frog sunbathing,
Made meaty hopping legs seem good.
She stole upon him without scruple,
Yet disconcerted, when he spoke.
“Would you mind my kisses futile?”
“Excuse me, frog, is this some joke?”
Brought up to such demanding standards,
Haughtily she drew the line,
Amphibious lust not on the menu,
She would not be his Frogalind.
Quite unabashed the beast responded,
“A real princess with tangy zest?
You know, of course, I am no froggie,
Would you this handsome prince molest?"
"Will you send in croaking battalions,
Satiate the appetites rightly mine?
I cannot see your cuisined cohorts..."
Shw added balefully:...dinner mine?"
"In my kingdom all the courtiers,
Pursue" he said "my every step,
Wanting to love, to cherish, marry..."
"All right frog then - one small peck."
Breathlessly the creature puckered,
She touched the proferred lips so soggy,
She pulled away, disgusted, pouting,
Regarding a bedazzling....froggie.
Unflappable, he responded swiftly:
"That lacked a certain "je ne sais quoi",
Let's part our lips and add more feeling,
Magic writ large" but she scorned: "Ha!"
Was this morsel worth the bother?
She mused, but bent, lips slightly parted,
"A nice kiss on the mouth,"he begged,
Fired with passion now he's started.
Despite endearments, this casanova,
Alas, remains the greenest pet,
"Mendacious frog," angry she splutters,
"Are you," he asks," a REAL princess?".
"My antecedents are quite peerless,"
Explains the crossest royalty,
"You are a wretched, lowly creature,
To question, thus, my ancestry.
He apologised profusely,
Craving just one further try,
A delicate embrace forthcoming,
He slips in tongue, she gives a cry.
And soon that long and slender member,
Slides endlessly right down her throat,
Shocking the princess with its talent,
Leaves her squirming and afloat.
She felt so moist and so excited,
His suit brought forth a sigh so wan,
When he penetrates her clothing,
Conclude: surrender is forgone.
Languid passion most surprised her,
Excited intrusion now so warranted,
Swelling to three times his body,
Muscular, entrancing, oh so talented.
She shuddered, trembling aspen leaf-like,
Whipped by his lapping to a frenzy,
Bullfrogs for her now noble creatures,
A filled terrarium could be friendly.
He satisfied her through the warm day,
But wouldn't change into a prince,
When he crawled away exhausted,
She sought excuses, unconvinced.
“Froggie mine, I've loved you well,
My intimacies, you now have tasted,
Tell me the truth or I'll be angry,
How will you lie, when you are basted?"
“Princess I shiver so to tell you,
I am a false amphibious fiend,
You so beautiful, I so needy,
Have your glories thus demeaned.
Can you forgive this slimy creature?”
He looked at her with soulful eyes,
Beguiling, she caressed the taster,
Now love alone might save his thighs.
The unkind ending for the sceptic,
Bland amours curdle crueller breeds;
Limbs will demand a jellied aspic,
Crunchy frog, hors d'ouevres relieves.
Kinder readers applaud enamoratas,
Serendipity belief subborns;
Let her sew 'F's on his pyjamas,
Catching flies, as their love spawns.
~¤~Ode to Breakfast~¤~
(to Binky)
She could scarcely control,
Her amorphous delight
As she sliced off the top of her egg;
The viscous gold yolk
The aroma of toast,
Led her taste buds to sit up and beg.
Excavations begin,
Her hunger refined,
Through the sunny ambience of a smile;
Takes a sip of her tea
Rising delicately,
Leaving dainty crusts cold and defiled.
~¤~Domestic Violence~¤~
Husband enthusing,
a Star Wars film in view,
Was Darth Vader false?
Spouse sat there musing,
What facilities are used,
to wash fetid smalls?
Would it be a sight,
those murky helmets spinning
In washing machines?
Would Offworldly
Extra-terrestrial grinning,
Keep Darth's silkies clean?
Had Darth Vader strode
into the Death Star laundry,
to demand service?
Would his sullen robes
form an irksome quandary -
dark load of the Sith?
Then his wife hit him.
~¤~Heaving Unto Another~¤~
You coif your hair before the fire,
Your head is filled with idle thoughts;
Your lover watches as you muse
His mind intrigued by certain sport.
Obligingly naked, you are game,
You will surrender to intent;
Bending forward to the flame,
Showing curvaceousness content.
Will his palms cup each perking breast,
Excited by your candid state?
Will his hand rest against your nest,
Your beauties thus to contemplate?
Would you restrain such a dubious lover
Guard flesh to heave unto another?
~¤~The taste of true love~¤~
A sagacious crab called Fred
With a lobster one night fled,
A mad folly: yet a passionate affair.
Together they would winter,
Conjoined, entwining pincers,
Yet this idyll led her to a quiet despair.
With his blue-black shellfish neat
Between eight of his stilled feet
Probing gently, he tried hard to reassure her
But, stalks whirling, she demurred,
Gulping sobs and blurring words:
"We cannot see each other, my dear Brachyura."
"Why?" gasped Fred, his love derailed,
"Crabs are too common," she bewailed,
"My father claims you are a low crustacean.
I may no longer tarry,
Let alone run off and marry
One who scuttles sideways by the ocean."
Fred's tranquility was shattered,
He had lost the thing that mattered,
The tide of grief flowed in dramatic fashion.
Sideways to despondent sorrows,
And oblivious, ebbing morrows -
Frustration drowned out all aquatic passion.
That night at lobster sands,
A marvellous Homidae band
Played solely for the pleasure of those invited.
Absurd merry making thrills,
Yelping lobsters in quadrilles,
And a clicking of the throng was thus incited.
Suddenly, a hammering out of tune,
Stopped the dance beneath the moon,
The princess gasped; the King of lobsters rose;
Slowly, painstakingly, Fred the crab,
Made his way FORWARD to her dad
The princess blushed with pride, a feisty glow.
Fred carefully encroached,
Cancer-like the crab approached
Until he clasped his lovely by the claw,
There was a sudden deadly hush,
And the princess lobster blushed
To a rose that restauranteurs so adore.
There, upon that crowded beach,
Fred lectured in solemn speech,
Exposing his deep love for lobster rare;
He had shown how he could move
Like a lobster, skilled and smooth,
His moral: Different shelled tribes ought to share.
The King thought Fred a PC beast,
But finally let him join their feast -
As the first course on the menu, oh alas!
Still the princess's mood improved,
Since Fred's crab sticks now imbued
Her palate with her true love's taste at last.
~¤~Five Star Fancies~¤~
Approaching steady footsteps,
In corridors near your room;
Stop a while to hesitate,
In the five star hotel gloom.
The handle turns so slowly,
You can barely hear the squeak,
Huddling 'neath the bedclothes
Far too fearful now to speak.
Such encounters can be fatal,
When doors are left unlocked
You can curl up oh so foetal
Emanating five star shock;
Assuredly the intruder,
Steals in without regret,
He may rip away your nightie,
Incensed by your toilette.
He may pander to your fancies
Bring delights upon a tray,
Stealing away your scanties,
In erotomane display;
Standing powerful, unsated,
Prepared lest you interject,
Wide-eyed pupils dilated,
With no five star respect.
Is this the unsavoury prowler,
Of whom you've heard so much?
Or some after hours towels for
That five star service touch?
Will your senses be assaulted
By some vile masculine musk?
Can the coffee here be faulted
Does toast have buttered crusts?
So many matudinal questions
Your mind fuzzy and blocked
It seems in all fortuitous
You kept your room door locked
Your frillies lie abandoned,
Where they were tossed last night
Five star fancies culled at random
Usher in the morning light.
~¤~Verse and Cake~¤~
Devour rich words of Beaudelaire
With a freshly filled chocolate eclaire;
Thus engaged they are so creamy,
Quite hedonistically dreamy;
Providing those gentle cushions
For my perambulating mind.
Those steamy words ensorcel me
Accompanied by Lapsong tea;
When I take those Soochong sips
I reach a peak to warm my lips;
Elevating that choux pastry
To the utterly divine.
~¤~Find a voice, make a choice~¤~
One can lead a girl to paper, but one cannot make her write,
Despite the begging of her lover, her mind stays blank and white;
And one wonders what a lover, with his pleadings thus ignored,
Should consider at inaction that hardly deserves applause;
He could shrug his shoulders and await her sad reform,
But this lady should be careful lest his patience is outworn;.
Her response in her hands, her thoughts are in a mist;
Her recalcitrance must cease unless a sundering is her wish.
~¤~A gap in the mail~¤~
Decidedly pensive and full of calm reflection,
Denying abdication of a fervent love;
An irritated mist obscures a tearful genuflection,
Stinging broadest shoulders up into a shrug.
Without the laced epistles, deprived of that perfume
Calling forth reserves of sweet devotion;
Until an intercourse, now disrupted, soon resumes,
It cannot satiate the build up of emotion.
The artful rendition of a medley of fine words,
Leaves a silence gaping in its wake;
When a promise of short missives is so suddenly deferred,
The hurtful pounding heart must echo fate.
You can lead a pen to paper, though it may not slake its thirst,
The resultant gap in mail turns expectation into verse.
~¤~Hungry Eyes~¤~
Eyes to feast as women are devoured?
Women to relish plucked eyes on a plate?
Is this the meaning of women empowered?
Is this your option or is this your fate?
~¤~Lychees~¤~
A lychee can be sweeter
Than the creamiest desert
The nectar that entreats her
Helps to heal her hurt
Relax let all the worry freeze,
Sit down after curry please,
These aphrodisiac lychees
Will make the taste buds spurt
~¤~Hurling Clogs~¤~
Awaken romantics! Do not age in your beds,
Let us sit on our handsies, butt keys with our heads,
We may discuss porridge and pelican pie,
Yell doting abuse as goats swoop from the sky.
To those who might question our engagement in wit,
We'll fling heavy boulders and concrete and bricks,
Let's be confessional in a naked endeavour,
Is this nonsense verse a thing we can treasure?
What purpose has life, when divested of sleep,
While lovelorn wolves gambol, midst cute woolly sheep?
As this magical half-life drifts on so divine,
Spend it here hurling clogs for no reason or rhyme.
~¤~Oriental Confession ~¤~
After a light supper of suchi,
The japanese confess,
They are ready for excitement,
That the emperor won't bless;
They clad lascivious bodies,
In finest oriental silks,
Pertly rising up like temples,
On bonsai bedecked hills
They do well to remember
As they drink saki in the sun,
Not to remove those kimonos
Lest the sumo wrestlers come;
Naked allure casts a shadow,
On dalliance and discretion,
Revelations of geisha beauty,
Take intrigue from confession.
~¤~Consequences~¤~
When cats are dropped,
they always land on their feet -
Happy consequence.
When toast is dropped,
it falls buttered side down -
Unhappy event.
I will strap my toast
To purring felines' backs,
Buttered side up.
Dropped together,
Opposing forces hover,
Spinning above ground.
I can foresee
High-speed monorail systems
Running in this way.
Aided, Abetted
By such communication
Will you feel alone?
~¤~Caffeine Haiku's~¤~
Coffee in dawn's light,
Stimulates intelligence
Chasing off nightmares.
Animate, bleary
Subconsciousness can't exist,
Without refreshment.
Filtered water,
Waftings of aromatic beans,
Cause salivations,
The years that pull hard,
The emptiness of coffee pots
Occasions to moan.
Examine reflections,
Dishevelled hirsute thoughts,
Caffeine inspiration.
I'm not sure I mind,
Dregs chase innocence away,
Sponsoring concerns
When life just flounders
Transform the inner being,
Agreeable coffee.
Energising brew,
Coffee belies my passion,
Either hot or cold
For parched tongues,
The temperature matters not,
Helps you keep a grip.
How appropriate,
To read such caffeine haiku,
Over a second cup.
~¤~Fruit fiends~¤~
Here come the fruit fiends,
Frightening keen bananas,
Out of their thick skins,
Preying avidly,
'ware scantily clad orange,
Tangy pips must squeak,
Apples denuded,
Their voluptuous peelings
Never recovered.
Fruitbowls quiver,
A terrorising approach,
For seedy kiwis.
Virgin cherries pop,
Their succulence crushed
By attendant mouths.
Hairy coconuts,
And scaly pineapples,
May deride assault.
Cavort fruit knives,
Refute equivocation:
Palatable chunks.
Disable mangoes,
Devour pomegranates:
Fructose excesses
As usual
~¤~Unsound criticism fogs the scribbler~¤~
The disingenuous ferment just confounds
pellucid guidance insidiously decanted;
Angry fog obscures much spleen unsound,
Nebulous rhymes are breathlessly recanted.
Thoughtless myopic tendrils inflame the mind,
Contention overflows through vapid praise;
Discontented scribblers will decline
all ruthless criticism thus untimely raised.
Vexation may conceal a brumous force
befogged by forlorn angst and words unwise;
Mist thick and grey hides jealousy or worse,
Lamenting writers leave verse unrevised.
Irony assists to squash each glib excrescence,
yet excessive deprecation kills off effervescence.