"peg" poems
inspired by
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5120189/love-cannot-be-controlled-or-confined/
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Love is Meant……
and there, I stop…
<>
nnnnyup; continuing on,
this phrase
a self~sufficiency, is it not?
no conditional clause, dangling particle,
no conjunction peg upon to hang your wintered hat,
no adjacent adjective for summer's ending sadness,
no preposition to lead us to sunny places, where we search more
for nouns and pronouns, or to project/protect, in adjectives to clothe our irrationality in logic-e,
logic to define, logic to confine,
illogically
love permits one to say to another human, you mine, hu-mine,
[an aside: "you mine,' (really?)]
a preposterous prepositional insanity notion, that needs no explication,
love is meant, love is meant, love is mean, dream & yet, meant!
stadium sized. concert hall big, mini pup tent,
love is clean+dirty s i m u l t a n e o u s l y
don't you see the self~sufficiency in that?
yet you still seek definition, reasoning, seasoning,
love is meant to-be bent irregular straightaway,
love is meant, to be/not, cold 'n bot, silly hot,
lover is inert, hurt, ert,(1)
love is every point of,
of a sword's length
hilt & blade,
yet ironic,
the tip alone
is a self sufficient *****
to be full~on damaging enough to ****
to fully comprehend,
that love is meant
needs no further modifying defying
pointless phrasal modification of explanation…
s u n d a y
(if the week did not commence with a sunday,
hu-mans would have needed to create one,
to understand,
love is meant)
4:39am
Sun Aug 10
Twenty Twenty Fidelio (5)
in a new york city frame of mine
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 8:06 AM UTC
I need to change the circles I'm in
Because I fell into the trapezoid
Of trying to fit a square peg in a round hole
Making people believe I was a square
When I was really a rectangle
You just had to look at me from the right angles
The shape of things now
Is me looking at you from the wrong angles
You're pretty hot
90°
When you turn away from me your hotness doubles
180°
I think my Pompeii worm could survive the temperatures
But if you were to turn back around
No creature could survive
360°
The paradox of the parabola in my pants
Will never be solved
It's not your math problem
We're just two points on this rotating sphere
Where time is a straight line
And our's is a segment
I wish I understood the formula
So I could predict the outcome
But there are too many variables
Leaving my head spinning in circles
And myself running in circles
Meant to be avoided
Because within those circles are triangular trials
Where two points create a perfect line
And a third point ruins that
As points are added to the population
Lines only get larger
Like the welfare line
Mammoth shapes grow wider and more complex
Like the Pentagon
Lines become more easily crossed
Angles more easily tangled
And my freezing point becomes my boiling point
While I wish for a world more two-dimensional
Because once I consider depth
I realize I could never measure up to my ruler
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
.
T h e
F an t a s t i c
Rocking Horse
T h e Catherine
W heel The Glo w
ing Triangle The
****** The Nirv
ana The Padlock
The SlideThe Ape
The Butterfly The
Ascent to Desire
The Balancing Act
The Splitting Bam
boo The Curled A
n g e l The Bridge
The Clip The Clos
se-up The Double
Decker The Seduc
Tion The Crouchi
ng TigerThe Hero
The Dolphin Th e
Frog The Glowing Juniper The Plow
The Peg The Classic The Kneel The Reclining Lotus The Lustful L eg The Eagle The Cros
s The Rowing Boat The Star Doggy Style
The Super 8 The Bandoleer The
M a g i c Mountain
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
She captures autumn
in a jar
reads the moon's straying
through leaf and branch
Always in love
with love
and always reeling
from the loss
What wave tossed this refugee
ashore?
What alignment
of stars and planets
of uncountable galaxies
brought this woman
to this world and not another?
A simple truth will tell.
The moon at high tide
hides beneath her skirts.
A slight disturbance
in the silken fabric
of space and time
and all is lost
all is born.
I hold my hands out
palms up
in prayer and thanks
every day
to mark the blessing
to place a peg
in the whole.
Given to all
denied to none
and mysterious to most
Life pours out of
a hole in the sea
leaves nothing
and everything
to chance.
This blessed world.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
we're on a break,
meaning we catharsis ****
often in public places,
often with an edge of violence,
much like the session in the
family restroom, here at
Big Daddy's Bar-B-Que (travesty, travesty).
still waiting for Em to to finish "tidying up."
and the brisket is salty.
or it's the leftovers from her forehead.
she should have cut her fingernails.
thinking of a way to hide the blood trails
running wild on the back of my t-shirt.
catharsis, she says. it's healthy, she says.
Elvis croons over the arcane stereo system
and a white-haired woman with gelatinous
arms taps her fingers on the tabletop along
to "Teddy Bear."
the waitress keeps a hawk's eye on my
half-empty/half-full glass of water.
and I'm afraid to take a drink.
here comes Em. she's an athlete. and we're on a break,
meaning we don't see each other's parents.
don't nod and listen.
and don't say things like, "oh yeah, your sister Sarah. how's she?"
hallelujah, hallelujah. Em played point guard in high school.
her last official sporting endeavor. but twenty minutes ago
she told me to look up a complicated position
via iKamastutra on my phone
because she's an athlete, and I'd be "amazed at what
this
machine [her body]
can do."
but I hate when she says **** like that.
catering to an I'm-almost-certain-peg
of my fantasy. harder, harder
and before I finish, she insists on
swallowing
and
it makes me uncomfortable
but
we're on break, and to argue
would be a crucifixion to this "vacation."
I think about Elvis.
and wonder if any
woman is still alive that
swallowed his ***
and when it's down
to just one, does that mean
anything?
"well that was fun," Em says.
her mascara wasted.
the brisket is salty.
I take a generous drink of water.
I hear the sound of breaking glass.
the waitress has busted
a bottle of ketchup in her
rush to refill my 2/3rds empty cup.
"mazel tov," I say.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
There's a tree over there
that waits for its dreamer.
*I have survived many.
And lost much
but to tell all would encumber several human spans
because
I have lived and longed.
I have learned and yearned.
I have waited.
At the train station, where existence can only be fulfilled
via a spiritual connection.
Bounded by roots that twist and secure
Soon to be bonded with thoughts
Floating through the sky, riding the air waves, see-through till caught
in a spider's web, or something like it.
And imaginary gets real.
Take in the matter
Scrub the void with scrounged emotions and colors
Pour in materials of lint and string.
Mediums with no particular conductance,
but taught it tight
and strum till the vibrations reverberate
and bring your idea to life in my wings
Because you are my dreamer.
And I am your catcher.
Hung on a wooden peg,
in your study.
Waiting for the day you
pick me up
and all your dreams tumble out and
materialize
and you realize* who you are.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 12:08 AM UTC
Hip hop. Equals art stop. That crude **** stopped musical fusion
Right in its tracks.
When it first landed, it was still music with a lotta spittle flying.
Not naming names. I listened to a lot of it.
Then Gangsta rap hit. Oh ****
Cant accuse me of blind judgment, I still check it out from time to time
How do you say.Get diverse mud flappers. Know the history.
learn to play an instrument and read it so you can write it. Then come back an see me.
Who am I?.
John Q public.
Pavlov's dog.
Tin Pan Ali.
Long Tall sally.
Sachmo. Scratch less.
Yard-bird.
Donald Bird.
Stubborn ****
Stuff out there is weak as thrice used tea bags. And cost more to get unless you got
a peg leg and a parrot ******** on yer shoulder.
Lyrically, man my six year old says more about less with **** left over. What?
Flame out digitized No talent constructs that make me wanna hurl, url give a dog a bone.
Tin eared, tone def hoochies and synthetic cool cats. Not to mention the rough neks.
Looking like they pooped their pants six times and forgot how to belt up.
There are some real deal talents out there but it is like pickin peanuts out ****
After disco died. Yes I said disco. It has been a circle **** in the cemetery after dark. Naw mean.
But I digress.
.
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 4:42 AM UTC
I'll follow you through
sunflower cranes, stood
straight up on one leg,
tiptoe-heads above. Thick,
trunk stems support eyes
as though a field of giraffes
came to Loiré on holiday,
a tower of swinging faces
basking in a summer breeze.
Sepia yellows peg out
like eyelashes, shine
against that blue wave
of ocean sky, barely
frothing a cloud. Atop
your shoulders, I'll try
pinching a bud to keep
for home, looking back
a thousand suns echo
a staining rust, autumn
reds sinking as they set.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
Driftin'.........driftin'......driftin'.......
Oh, liftin'........liftin'......lift us
Carryin'.......carryin'.......carry away....
Ah, Jesus .....
Driftin' on this sea
That nobody can see.....
Come.....come with me......
Let us meet that rising tide
Let us drift away.....
On celestial kites.
High...high....higher
Ah, Jesus
Please.....oh, please
Tides away on a kite
Take this filter, baby
You can't cut smoke
So, float along....on celestial kites.
Take it in, **** it in
Wait, wait, not so deep
There, easy does the trick now
Now, we can sail away again....
I will be your exquisite poesy
You can eat me, all you want
Yes, I'm your intense poem, take me
Absorb the tides in me....
You float my boat up in the sky
My beautiful buoy, you are
Hover gentle over me
Look kind into my eyes......
Hang me in the sky
And peg your love on me
Lay me on the moon
And pierce my mind with stars....
Plop me on a nimbus cloud
Nay, I will not fall through
Forsooth, I'll sail on wind and gale
To catch that kite to you!
How I long for that box to open
Oh, do lemme out! I smell the breeze....
I'll die sweetly, perchance
To be on your celestial kite.
Leave me not sodden and sick
Let's fly high on celestial kites
Where angels pray to kiss
These high skies no-one kens.
Ah, Jesus....
Let me not die bereft of hope
To drift away...... with you.....
Ah.......to snag that tail-end ribbon
And hail this ride on your kite!
Star Toucher, 12 March 2013
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
right in front of me
but out of reach
windiness
tests upon tests
you teach me
patience
i’m weary
but i keep chasing
and i just don’t know
if i can reach the top
collecting pieces
of facts like rags
i shape opinions,
secrets map
trust impasse.
i may never know
the mountain shade
unearthed in doubt
from years of pain
but for it all
i love you more
you teach me
strength
and i’ll plant my flag
and print my foot
drag my wooden,
peg-legged soul
lose my voice,
foretell my wake
altitudes high
and immense
please believe
what i can see
let me teach you
acceptance
everest man
i am
shrinking
as you hide the sun
behind your back
as you hide the sun
away from me
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
A teary farewell at the Airport,
Fake 'good'bye's from heavy Hearts,
Bags filled with memories from the Past,
Cruising over the seven Seas,
A new journey with emotions Galore.
A land promising a colorful Future,
fulfilling every need and Desire,
In exchange of a simple Contract,
Unlearn the ways of the land I Belong,
For I am the square peg in the round Hole.
Burning the midnight Oil,
Stale bread and a cup Noodles,
Celebrating festivals through a tiny screen,
a fake smile masking every tear,
Where's the silver lining amid the toil ?
Oh how the hard work has flourished,
certified successful as defined by society,
smiling at the acquired Possessions,
To realize materials never smiled back,
I am now the round peg without a Soul.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
I'm like other guys... I drink, I
cheat, I throw tantrums, but I
want to love you anyway.
I break hearts, I've broken one
too many... yet I am asking you to
entrust your heart with me.
I'm asking you to try me, I'm not
different... I got the dude stuff
you know and somehow this isn't
just about love... albeit I hope you
can be the peg that tethers my
lust... I want you to swallow
and never spit me... I want you to
be my last... I want you to be
the lady my kids call Mama,
the very last drumbeat of karma.
I want you to be my fate, to be
family that never goes stranger...
I want you to share with me this
vaguely baked cake of the rest of
my life, I want you to be my wife
and if these words cannot prove
to you that you mean a world to
me then I'll peacefully walk away
because I know we cannot force
affairs of the heart... The Heart
cannot listen to what it doesn't
want to hear... I love you and that's
why I'm standing here... I need to
know whether I stand a chance or
not... I'm not different and I'll
never be... I just hope I'm worth
climbing thorny trees for, worth
the rough roads, worth the hills
for that's what true love is in my
bible, it's about two people holding
hands and walking past the rough
and the smooth, past the hard and
the soft, past the hills, valleys
past the winding and the straight
road, true love's combining effort
to lift the light and heavy load...
knowing that the prize of love is
having someone to share with the
good, the bad, the happy, the sad.
Am I that person you'd expect on
this lifelong journey to eternity?
will you be my honey through
bitterness of waves waiting ahead?
Will you take the discomfort of a
ring for me?
Will you marry me?
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
The lines were crisp, clean
Just the way you planned
And I,
I was the round peg
That just wouldn't fit into your square hole
Your dignified manner
Made me chuckle at first
Until it turned you cold
Now
I feel sick when you saunter on by
Forgetting, that you
Did once love me
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 12:34 AM UTC
I came home in the middle of the day,
nobody home but me.
The snowdrops in the back yard
were a surpliced choir
bowing their heads in prayer,
the camellia flowering still
like crazy.
Spring in the soft soft air
I turned my face skyward
to peg the washing
and thought
this is our home.
Quiet now,
as we were quiet
last night silently reading,
gently letting our anxious words
fall away, and later
I played, for your ears alone,
in the next room
a Venezuelan dance,
caressing the strings
of the instrument that still
holds my heart
as I know you hold mine
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
It had been one of those enervating days,
when officialdom and red tape paperwork
had ****** the yolk and marrow leaving only
a dullness that yawed the ghost ship of her frame.
She decided not to cook, as much as
payback for her ordeal by proper channels.
And so to the "Toilet Bar", cafe of choice
for malicious villagers, though rarely women.
The men folk hardly stared upon her entrance,
by now they knew those leopard skin boots,
that packed a wallop they grudgingly took
stock of, then returned to their cheese and wine.
This was her quarter of salt cod with cream,
prepared by owner Paula and daughter Carolina,
the only other women tolerated amongst the chairs,
that smelled of tar and testosterone.
Lacking collars three tumbled to the stony street,
drunken mechanic, one armed plumber, peg-legged sailor,
the kerfuffle amusing her, their wicked aunt.
Another Lagoan night that shimmered out to sea.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 5:54 PM UTC
**life is a chain of choices and chances
yOu have to make 'EM and take 'EM
if yOu don't STAND for something
yOu'll fall for anything**
**when yOu SET your GOAL
yOu Feed your SOUL**
***life shouldn't be measured by breaths taken
but by the times life takes your breath away***
*put a SmiLe on some ones fACe today
take pride in knowing yOu put it there*
**I THINK therefore I AM over qualified
and that's why yOu work here**
**NO it's not ignorance nor arrogance
I'M just smarter than yOu**
**DO not belieVe or eVen read eVery word that I haVe written
Do NOT believe everything yOu think**
***remember yOu are special, just like everyone else
remember to take your smart pills and STOP pretending
to be STUPID, that's just DUMB***
**that's Mr. AzzHOLE to yOu (ays - oh - lay) it's Esperanto
and YES it is part of my charm, thanks for asking**
***the dAy DreAm is the free thinKer's nighTmaRe
what do yOu thinK? NeVer MiND***
**perjury murdered imagination, without an ASSULT rifle, without
2nd amendment RIGHTS, without maSS media or an iNterNet CoNNectioN**
**it's NOT what yOu accomplish
it's what yOu OVER come**
**I didn't say it was your FAULT
I said I was going to BLAME yOu**
***life is like SkiPPing with a Peg leG
at night it's like Sleeping with SciSSorS***
HAVE FUN
*if you feel offended by this please read again
with your name in each rant, then take two (2) smart pills
and go back to sleep*
hehehe
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
everyone individual
is so intricate,
yet we rush to peg them,
to label them,
to tell them who they are
if someone were to draw me,
i think they'd draw an outline
of my arms and legs
and form my lips
into a sweet smile
but if i were to draw myself,
i would darken the inner parts
of the outline with squiggles
and place a thousand different
expressions on my face
the more i meet people
and flip them inside out
to run my fingers along
the cracks of their beating heart,
the more i realize that
no one really is
"normal"
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 1:07 PM UTC
Janice sat beside you
on the bombsite
off Meadow Row
looking towards
the New Kent Road
watching the people
and traffic pass
you with your catapult
and she with the doll
her gran had bought her
from the market in the Cut
Gran said those are dangerous
Janice said
pointing at the catapult
not if you’re careful
and responsible
you said
but they fire stones
she said
guns fire bullets
you said
they can **** people
David killed Goliath
with a stone
she said
I heard it in church
I only fire at tin cans
or other such targets
you said
she looked at the sky
at pigeons flying overhead
what about birds?
she asked
no I don’t shoot at birds
although I did fire
at a rat once
but missed
and it ran off
I hate rats
she said
there was one
on our balcony once
and it frightened me to death
you laughed
you remember that coalman
who stomped on that one
along the balcony by your flat?
yuk
she said
horrible blood and guts
everywhere
and on his boot
you said
she hugged her doll
close against her
don’t remind me
you studied the doll
in her arms
the way it was close
to her chest
her hands caressing
the painted china head
the yellow flowered dress
and small white socks
and black plastic shoes
you’d make a good mum
you said
watching her rock
the doll in her arms
do you think so?
she asked
yes
you said
maybe one day
I will have a real baby
she said
and rock it to sleep
and feed it with a bottle
and burp it
and change its *****
like I saw a lady do
in the toilets
of Waterloo station
and Gran said
it wasn’t hygienic
not there of all places
Gran said
I’d have to have
a peg on my nose
if I had to change
a baby’s *****
you said
I think men
have weaker stomachs
than women do
she said
I think mothers
are given stronger stomachs
when they have babies
it’s God way of helping them
deal with babies
I’d rather have a catapult
than a baby
you said
or a doll
do you want to hold my doll
and I can hold your catapult?
she asked
no thanks
you replied
if my mates saw me
I’d never live it down
she kissed the doll’s head
and said
likewise
but there was a smile
on her lips
and a sparkle
in her eyes
and a beauty
in the way she sat
in her orange coloured dress
and bright red beret hat.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
Nicky, the neighbor’s dog, drags a road **** home.
A beautiful pelt like those fox shoulder garments women wore in the
forties.
But the head is crushed beyond recognition—maybe it’s a fox and that’s
why Nicky, a canine, is conducting this wake on our front lawn.
Loretta, my wife’s mother, is in the hospital again. Forty years of Crohn’s
disease has finally broken her.
It may take some time but she won’t bounce back from this episode.
None of us are sorry to see her die, not even Loretta. There will be a
thunderous downpour during her last hour.
I like the story about the nuns hitting Peg in school–contumacy is a sin.
Emile and Loretta considered it an inappropriate punishment for their
cherished adopted daughter.
So they pulled her out of Catholic for public school. They did their own
thinking about discipline.
Early Spring, peepers all night, then the birds take over at dawn.
Soothing—the mourning doves.
During this half of the year, May through October, we live in a green
bower.
We turn the house inside out, move into the mountains.
In their annual order, flowers appear in the understory: coltsfoot, hepatica
and trillium through to the end, late purple aster, spotted joe pye and
pearly everlasting.
We let Nicky nurse her road **** watch over it, roll around on it.
Don’t let go of the steering wheel while driving fast in the passing lane.
Jan 16, 2024
Jan 16, 2024 at 7:35 AM UTC
He asked me how I liked it today--
from the back or front?
He wanted to know why--
too small or didn't last?
He said he knew, so I shouldn't lie to him--
as if I was less than him.
What's a ****** to do
when the rumors peg her as a ****
She can't ignore the whispers,
or the blatant accusations:
*Now we all know how ***** she really is.*
It's been twenty-four hours,
and already the **** is coming
with dogs, chained, in their heels,
makeup streaked and lipstick smudged.
He releases the *******
But they don't wait for the cover of night to bite,
no, they lunge at noon in the crowded hallways
teeth of words, power of the sideways glance,
venom of whispers, bullets of pointed fingers
He needs a new name for the list,
his quota is short--
because when a girl becomes single,
she is an updated item on the auction:
Name: Lilith
experience: 1 guy(s)
skills:
hands: 4/10
tongue: 6/10
on top: 3/10
bottom: 7/10
volume: loud
Her reputation is spoiled--
the way her friends talk to her,
the invites she gets to hang out,
the fact that no one wants to talk to a ****
Welcome, little ******
to the Virtue Laments.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
Hanging at the end of
Strained rope
Swing my lost ambitions
And desires
My sanity swaying in the
Cruel winds of
Loveless night
Just a square peg
Confronted with
A round hole
Dropped anchor on
The shores of insanity
It seems so beautiful here.
I must create my own world
As my place in this one
Does not seem fitting
Genius is wasted
Upon the buffoonery
Of mass ignorance
Intelligence shunned
Brilliance and uniqueness
Frowned upon and cast aside
For the normality of uninteresting
****** zombies
The painfully intelligent
Forced into subversion
Hiding their gifts
For fear of being outcast
Men who cling to the faults
Of their fathers
And stories of stir crazy, house wives
Cabin fever was invented
To thin our stock
We all toy with the desire
Forcing blind eyes
Into the faces of
The gifted
Substance abuse is often a malady
Of the painfully intelligent and artistic
Drowning my will to be weird
My own underhandedness
Innately forcing my inner self
Beneath a cloak of politeness
This world
This living theater
Where we all assume
Our own role
Where our actions are
Transcribed
And cast upon us
Like stones on the river
I have grown tired
Of acting the fool
Prepare myself
For a new role
A starring role
Have you ever felt
The wonderment of déjà vécu?
And the sorrow of knowing
You belong to another time?
I need the exhilaration of a time
When life was simpler,
Yet more confusing
Was Judas the only one Christ trusted
To deliver him to his fate?
Is the human race too cowardly
To be welcomed in the arms of a deity?
Are we too ignorant to recognize
That is has already occurred?
Are we the last remnants
Of an experiment gone wrong?
The plague of the human race.
Devouring consciousness
Eliminating uniqueness
Evolving into our own demise
One too many mutations gone wrong
Retching in the soiled undergarments
Of our father's sins
Reveling in the untold lies
Of mother's milk
I have soured on this world long ago
Bounding for higher consciousness
Looking for the unseen
Searching for the undiscovered
Drug sideways
Through the sludge
Of society
Screaming wildly
Through the entirety
The gene pool would benefit
From a healthy dose of chlorine
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?
Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar?
Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?
Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind?
Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad in short frocks in the West,
Are you growing the charms that shall capture and torture the heart in my breast?
Will you stay in the Plains till September—my passion as warm as the day?
Will you bring me to book on the Mountains, or where the thermantidotes play?
When the light of your eyes shall make pallid the mean lesser lights I pursue,
And the charm of your presence shall lure me from love of the gay “thirteen-two”;
When the peg and the pig-skin shall please not; when I buy me Calcutta-build clothes;
When I quit the Delight of Wild ***** foreswearing the swearing of oaths ;
As a deer to the hand of the hunter when I turn ’mid the gibes of my friends;
When the days of my freedom are numbered, and the life of the bachelor ends.
Ah, Goddess! child, spinster, or widow—as of old on Mars Hill whey they raised
To the God that they knew not an altar—so I, a young Pagan, have praised
The Goddess I know not nor worship; yet, if half that men tell me be true,
You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you.
2.5k
Don't **** the Genie
Peg-leg Pete, the pirate, in the good old days of old;
found a sealed amphora, whilst searching for some gold.
The label bore a warning & a faded, scary skull
but Peg-leg Pete was curious & gave the **** a pull.
The bottle appeared empty, so he gave it quite a shake.
A rumbling, grumbling let him know – a genie was awake!
“You didn't ought to do that, you one-legged, one-eyed beast;
to someone who's been fast asleep, a hundred years, at least!”
The genie was so angry, like a bear, with a sore head.
“You'll only get one wish for that, so make it count.” he said.
“Only one!” poor Pete complained. “but I've just set you free.
I've got the very task though, that you can do for me.”
“Me owd peg-leg has woodworm & me glass-eye's on the blink;
me 'ooks gone rusty & me trusty ship's about to sink.
If you can make me whole again, one wish will be enough.
So, come on grumpy genie, shake a leg & do your stuff!”
“Make sure you word your wish exact, for there's no going back.”
The genie smirked, then got to work & everything went black.
When Pete came round, he quickly found his hook & peg-leg there
& underneath it's tatty patch, his glass-eye's icy stare.
“What trick is this, you scurvy dog, you've gone back on your word?”
“I think not Pete, just look around & see what has occurred.
Your ship is now a merchant & that warehouse on the dock.
It's yours, for import/export work – for honest trade old ****
Pete
“I don't get this, I'm still stood here,
like Ahab, off the whaler.”
Genie, smirking
“You asked me, quite specifically
to make you a whole-saler!”
Briz 5/11/13
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 3:35 AM UTC
Even though I have one leg limp
I would train even if I were stem
Bodybuilding keeps me in shape
It keeps me from dwelling in my present state
I loss one total body part
It was pure inspiration I made from the start
I am an intensity male Bodybuilder
I compete to put my body to the test in being a challenge
I am the living testimony in encouraging others to train no matter what
Who says one must settle because they have a handicap?
Bodybuilding is the ultimate and you will become your own vascular map
I am your Coach floor plan
Follow my Bodybuilding success being at your demand
I may have one leg gone
But training is where I belong
Bodybuilding has taught me too be conditioned and the theory of discipline
The training in me is everything I found it should be
It’s the results for all to see
Yes I am a Peg Leg male Bodybuilder
The training gives me endurance and the intensity makes me even stronger
Strides in Bodybuilding principles determined to continue to make
No matter what the struggles, training is never ever too late
I encourage you to make it a date
Keep me posted, as I want to see your update.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC