Most Males
Have more breadth
At their waste lines
Than length
Fully sea-able down below

Lovely take some help of trick photography
And
Become your desired one
Pawn....of sexology
And
A modern celebrity
We all love
And
Yet disown

If I could lick my genitals
Just like my neighbours pet
I’d film it with my camera
And I’d put it on the net

I’d soon be rich and famous
Like a real life porno star
I’d buy a great big mansion
And a big expensive car

A swimming pool, Jacuzzi
Naked women by the score
A wall hung with old masters
Persian rugs upon the floor

But that’s really just a dream
And I’d be happy I suppose
If I could lose my belly
And could see my bloody toes

pink and crimson
are your sighs and moans
submerging in the splendor of white
in a rainbow arch you rise to steal
the riot of colors with a squeal

raj (sublime_ocean)

focus sweet
the whisper and this
press knocks the ink
aligned
and the sheet of idealizations
is lifted blazing with contrasts

You were my plate for years
and every day my print
would arrive
like dawn
sullen and drawn
Exhuberant and errant

where has all the resolution
gone
when its change needed
winds heeded

I shall miss the nocturne
standards
the daylong seige
the turning of the plea
and standard borne
principle

No longer do ghosts haunt the graveyard stones
Their wraith-like bodies now sleep as their souls pass over
So who haunts these cities of the dead?
I am known by the dead, as The Collector

I wander the land where headstones lay
I walk slowly between them
Brushing my fingers ever so lightly across their granite tops
When I receive a sign, I stop

A coin for my pocket sir
for something to eat?
with no mum and dad
we beg on the street.
Not eaten for two days
my little sister and me.
A coin for my pocket sir
for a warm cup of tea?

A coin for my pocket miss
to get shoes for our feet?
We haven’t got a penny
or anywhere to sleep.
Our feet are really sore
without shoes they bleed.
A coin for my pocket miss
for something we need?

She hangs a little taut.
Day old dead,
Now her belly bloats.

Her tongue is limp and wet,
Her hair, alive in wisps of air;

A small mockery of her
Still rocking body.

Swing her to and fro,
And watch her lifeless
Limbs dangle like a doll.

Watch her swing, to and fro,
And have a drink of bread and blood.

When she's all drained,
We'll take her down,
And find us another toy.

Tom says "I am not just a slice of pizza, I am the whole pie."
And this is the way words are eaten
when everything is new under the sun.
And this is the way the earth manifests
beauty
unless there is
an imperfect reflection in the eye of the beholder
holding love hostage for another day.
And this is the way we set ourselves free to face a new dawn
that opens the gates of heaven and lifts the corners of a smile.

I was travelling to Thursford, one day in the car
And I’d followed directions I’d got in the bar
We were on Caister road, was it left was it right
It was late, we were lost we were losing the light
We spotted a policeman and asked of him “pray,
Thursford my friend, can you tell me the way”
Well, he started to chuckle, he grinned then he laughed
Said “ you’ve listened to John, you’ve been pretty daft
It’s a good forty mile, you’ve had a bum steer
It’ll take you an hour, cos it’s nowhere near here”

One Too Many

I have composed countless poems
As you all know
Since I have no fixed mind ,
nor fixture of mind,
I am an unique entity...

No two poems of mine are alike,
as i believe in variety
Loved Style,
All my while .

I stand in no row or queue
of recognition ,
as I know twill never come,
when I am alive .

But then it will be too late
Posthumously
which they will.