"sexes" poems
It is difficult to be a man,
For I am not a typical one.
It is hard for me to go on,
There’s a secret that pulls me.
I loathe when my memories strike,
They hit emotionally with might.
I struggle so much to survive,
In a world so deaf towards my cries.
I look at a He and my heart convulses,
For I recall a He who gave me kisses.
I was young, forced and naïve,
I fought but He was much stronger.
Society might tell that I’m gay,
For I let a man violated me in a way.
But I’m not a ***** and I’m sure,
I play a role for which others envy.
When I was a teen I met her,
I admired her even if she’s older.
I was then shy and very timid,
With mental and emotional scars.
I thought of her as a dear friend,
Then she turned to be my worst fiend.
One instance she forced herself on me,
And used things that hurt me so.
A girl’s tactics differ from the stronger ***
Tears she used first and blackmail next.
She was cunning, sly and very clever,
She stole my pride and my dignity.
My fears now mixed with anger,
My determinations got bolder.
I still cry and sometimes get lonely,
Like any other victim I want to fight.
I can not shout to the whole nations,
For societies will scorn at my declamation.
Both sexes forgot that I have feelings too,
I am also made of flesh, bones and spirit.
I am not proud of what I become,
Within me clouding reasons try to calm.
My desire is to win this battle to the end,
I am capable of vulnerability like any human.
But where does my right begin?
This universe has compassion for women.
The likes of me are expected to be steel made,
Yet I have feelings too for I am just a man.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
Two people both alike in character
Of the opposite sexes
Sit across a candlelit dinner
In a lovely, fancy restaurant
The room is incandescently lit
With a dimness that balances between ever so bright and ever so dark
Allowing for a gold tinge to envelop the restaurant
But not gold enough to take away notice of the lit candle set upon the White table cloth
The waiter appears and asks the couple
What they would like for dinner
The couple order the food and drink
Much to the waiter's delight the food and drink is expensive
The waiter returns shortly
With a bottle of their finest Pinto Noir
And pours the blood-red wine slowly
Into each of the couple's glasses
And leaves the couple to sip upon their sweet sin delicately
The food is laid out
Triumphant in its debut
A vast smorgasbord of entries
Including frog legs, crab, and delicious ****** steak
The couple prepare their silverware for the battle that is eating
The man stabs his knife into the ****** steak
Cutting it open and spilling the juices all over his plate
He stabs the meat with the fork and guides it toward his mouth
And slowly but surely chomps upon it with the strength of his fine jaw
And swallows the meat into the unexposed mystery that is his stomach
The woman begins to mutilate the frog legs with her knife
Cutting into the once moveable limbs
And stabs the limbs with her fork and brings it to her mouth
And delicately bites the limbs and politely chews
And swallows it into her fine and precious insides
The couple then split the crab legs
Using their bear hands they split the shells open
And remove the meat or **** it right out of the shell
They swallow it whole and do nothing with the shell
Leaving the shell aside to be as still as a carcass
The waiter arrives and asks how the food was
The couple obliged him with their satisfaction
The bill is handed to them and the couple pay it
Leaving a hefty tip
They then leave the lovingly dimly lit restaurant
To enjoy the night that is ahead of them
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
People ask me what it’s like to find women sexually attractive
Often I’m an outcast for liking the same ***
But in the lesbian world I’m an outcast for liking men too
It’s confusing really
There is no way to explain the way women are
And why they are so appealing to me
Not only is their outside appearance alluring and beautiful
But their insides are vulnerable, broken, and insecure
I like that, seeing a women shattered because of society
I like the honesty that encloses them in a blanket of insecurity
Men on the other hand
Well, they are strong and handsome on the outside
And a bit more emotional than you’d expect on the inside
There really isn’t a reason why I’m attracted to both sexes
I just am, I was born this way I suppose
I say I suppose because I am not quite sure
how the whole human nature and sexuality thing works
Men and women are both appealing
Their minds differ so much that I crave both
Call me selfish;
Because I am
I crave to know human nature in any form it comes
Man or woman, I will not judge
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
This greeting comes
Have a nice day
Easier said than done
Haven't had one in a while
Can name the reasons why
The list as long as the Nile
What to do or what not to do
The question I'm left to ponder solo
Feels familiar, always has, oh no!
What shall I do?
Rescue me!
Come to me on bended knee
It won't happen, we're not dating
I'd sabbatoge it if you did
I need pure raw emotions that you keep well hid
The sexes unstable in this world today
What connotations does it carry
When you say, "have a nice day"
February 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 10:00 AM UTC
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,
a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe,
shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,
entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”.
Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,
Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower,
She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,
Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times.
Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,
For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled -
And above all, they added affection and compassion,
They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration.
Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,
The warmth turned the heart warm for all others;
I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,
To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy.
But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,
covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled,
It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,
Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity.
The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,
And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads;
The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,
Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes.
Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:
You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is,
My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,
And they sear me with words not for me, mental!
Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,
Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 9:27 AM UTC
It is quite interesting
The way in which women can proceed through life,
In such a grossly hypocritical manner.
Scorning love,
And mocking their lovers openly,
As if to say, your feelings don't count,
Only to later on raise their voices in condemnation
Of their slighted partner,
Thereby proving that they are without a doubt
The far more dishonest
And petty, of the sexes.
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
When words are not enough,
and the world won’t get off her back,
she dances the Devils way,
She’s a princess,
wait she’s a queen,
wait she’s an angel,
wait she’s everything,
a Goddess,
the hottest performing artist I’ve ever seen,
and she’s dancing,
dancing is her therapy,
I mean,
I’m not James Brown,
but it’s a man’s world,
even if Rihanna runs this town,
See,
she’s been suppressed all her life,
and I’m not just talking about Rihanna,
I’m talking about every girl that was ever forced to be a wife,
just to survive in this life,
she was touched by her father,
or brother or cousin,
when she was just a little girl,
I know we all wish it wasn’t,
but it is true,
so what’s a girl to do,
when she’s a clean 13 messing with The ***** Dozen,
this isn’t battle of the sexes,
this is war of the worlds,
wants to be a woman but she’s just a girl,
no No Doubt just burnt out nerves taken turns,
she never asked to be born,
with the burden of being beautiful,
but she refuses to conform,
she is attractable irrational and radical,
so when it’s all too much,
the stares and the catcalls,
the aggressive forceful touch,
the nails across her back like a blackboard,
and the moans become just white noise,
she takes it all in,
she forgives the man because he’s just a boy,
he is an angel even if he has fallen,
she takes it all in,
and she uses all of those abuses,
as the fuel with the tools which induces,
an allusive state of truth which,
allows her to move with intuitive smoothness,
and lose herself in the music morphing into what a centrifuge is,
separating fluids transforming what was otherwise useless abuses,
into a truth that cruises and confuses the stupid stooges,
she dances,
in a statement of glorious refusal to submit to their ideals,
she is more than a princess queen angel goddess,
she is fire burning up all preconceived notions of *** appeal,
the real deal,
dancing sweating cleansing her soul and her pores,
moving faster in progression refuting repression,
overcoming an obsession of oppression and knocking down all doors,
she is not a possession,
though she is possessed when,
she’s a dancing expression of how we all feel and more,
no words are enough,
she shows what we all feel,
she reveals what,
was before thinly concealed,
she is the perfect expression,
of imperfect circumstances,
she is poetic stanzas,
she is the paint on the canvas,
there is no question that she is the answer,
and all of this is made clear when she takes it all in,
let’s go of everything and dances…
∆aron L∆ Lux ∆
#strength #metoo #dancer #ballet #blackswan
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
I went for an X-Ray the other day. My name was called
and after the expected delay, I heard a nurse say
Right knee? I said Yep! She said “Come this way…
Can you get your trouser leg up to your thigh"?
I said “No… these skinny jeans don’t go that high”.
“In that case” she said looking me up & down... with a frown
Pop in that cubicle… and put on this gown!
For a start…it took me ages to get these trousers off…
and force the rest of my stuff into the carrier bag supplied
and then, when I saw the gown, I very nearly died!
It would have fitted me just fine if I’d been 18 again
but the gaps and bulges in the thing were a farce...
and allowed everyone in the corridor to see my fat 71 year old ****
I said out loud when I sat down again in the queue
“You know…I had an inferiority complex before I met any of you.
But this has definitely taken me down a notch. And I apologise about the view”.
However, inside the X-Ray room with all the techie kit and Radiographer Rob,
I felt better… The pain in my knee had almost gone apart from a distant throb.
Then he said “You’re completely safe, just lie back calm, quite still…serene”.
Whilst he clicked the shutter from the other side of his lead lined screen. (So he was alright then!)
Well, I’m home again now, hobbling about… It’s bearable (not like childbirth ladies) but not great.
I’m sitting here with my leg up waiting for the letter that will let me know my fate.
Ah yes… men and pain! There is a well know fact about the differences between the sexes.
It’s proven that, with men, colds become flu…and ailments:- epidemics… (No really!)
So, here’s the letter… Now...will it be Ointment? Physio, to transform a permanent slouch?
Or a keyhole flush with a catheter? Or - Oh no!…
For me - it’s a titanium replacement knee!… Ouch!
Somebody pass me that gown!!!
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
mum's well intended tough upbringing ended in a two sided razor sharp sword
i am independent, intelligent, and successful
that same achievements cause me no shortage of frenemies
and a severe debilitating starvation for true friendship and love
men wont touch me with a 10 foot poll
both sexes make me out to be weird beyond the point of recognising there reflexion in me
imprisoned in a life i wanted, successful
with a incurable case of loneliness, i'm drowning out with food and bad poetry
this is my roaring twenties, hooray
cant wait for the next 80 years
going senile will be a blessing
no longer haunted by pain and unreached potential
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
Common arguments like which decade is better
the 90's, 80's, 70's or the 60's
each had its advantages and each had its disadvantages
good things and bad things
the same can be said for the 00's and the 10's
I'm a 90's the same decade that we got the TV show Friends
Common arguments like which football team is better
Arsenal, United, City, Chelsea or Liverpool
each club had its chances, had their time
We stood by them through the good times and the bad
the same goes for every other team
I'm a Liverpool fan, the 2005 Champions League final was like a dream
Common arguments like which *** is better
Male or Female
Each are equal but have more sexes to compete with these days
we might hate our opposites at times but we love them really
Common arguments like which country is better
U.S.A, England, Russia, China or any other country
We all have our problems, we all have our good points
Leaders might argue and fight but social networks have connected us
Our leaders might not realise but we have more in common with each other than we ever knew
we are all united in our goals and our dreams
that is a statement that is true
Common arguments some times go to far
people get hurt
one word fixes most arguments
"SORRY"
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
In the name of Allah, Most Gracious, Most Merciful.
************************************ ****************
1. I do call to witness the Resurrection Day;
2. And I do call to witness the self-reproaching spirit: (Eschew Evil) .
3. Does man think that We cannot assemble his bones?
4. Nay, We are able to put together in perfect order the very tips of his fingers.
5. But man wishes to do wrong (even) in the time in front of him.
6. He questions: 'When is the Day of Resurrection? '
7. At length, when the sight is dazed,
8. And the moon is buried in darkness.
9. And the sun and moon are joined together, -
10. That Day will Man say: 'Where is the refuge? '
11. By no means! No place of safety!
12. Before thy Lord (alone) , that Day will be the place of rest.
13. That Day will Man be told (all) that he put forward, and all that he put back.
14. Nay, man will be evidence against himself,
15. Even though he were to put up his excuses.
16. Move not thy tongue concerning the (Qur'an) to make haste therewith.
17. It is for Us to collect it and to promulgate it:
18. But when We have promulgated it, follow thou its recital (as promulgated) :
19. Nay more, it is for Us to explain it (and make it clear) :
20. Nay, (ye men!) but ye love the fleeting life,
21. And leave alone the Hereafter.
22. Some faces, that Day, will beam (in brightness and beauty) : -
23. Looking towards their Lord;
24. And some faces, that Day, will be sad and dismal,
25. In the thought that some back-breaking calamity was about to be inflicted on them;
26. Yea, when (the soul) reaches to the collar-bone (in its exit) ,
27. And there will be a cry, 'Who is a magician (to restore him) ? '
28. And he will conclude that it was (the Time) of Parting;
29. And one leg will be joined with another:
30. That Day the Drive will be (all) to thy Lord!
31. So he gave nothing in charity, nor did he pray! -
32. But on the contrary, he rejected Truth and turned away!
33. Then did he stalk to his family in full conceit!
34. Woe to thee, (O men!) , yea, woe!
35. Again, Woe to thee, (O men!) , yea, woe!
36. Does man think that he will be left uncontrolled, (without purpose) ?
37. Was he not a drop of ***** emitted (in lowly form) ?
38. Then did he become a leech-like clot; then did ((Allah)) make and fashion (him) in due proportion.
39. And of him He made two sexes, male and female.
40. Has not He, (the same) , the power to give life to the dead?
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
My body
Is not obscene.
It is not something
That needs to be hidden,
Brought out only in the dark of bedrooms,
And showers,
And alleyways,
And incognito mode.
My body
Is not for sale,
Not a commodity, though if I chose to sell it for money you'd ridicule me--
Deep down you love it, don't you?
The fine you pay for fine curves and no promises.
Those desperate nights you need something to come into.
Is that what we are?--
Somethings?
And no sooner exchange the dollar for a dance than sweettalk for ***
And I could do the same to you, too-- I am not excused.
Not that you know that. We all pretend I can't...
Just a prize to be won?
I'm not anyone!
Come on, try to take me...
And when you do, oh-oh-oh!
Congratulations!
Lucky you!
You got me.
Success
Sweet success.
I have desires too,
But they don't matter--
If I want to **** him, he's the one who won
Because females don't desire.
And being trans?
Genderqueer?
Androgyne?
Hell, that doesn't exist!
What a load of ****
And I smile now, because I don't remember how to cry.
I am not allowed to desire,
And if I do, and I reach what I want,
Then I am a ****
Worthless.
Trash.
But were I a "real" man,
I would be a winner for it.
Anger has lived in me.
Jealousy has made my bones its home.
I am not allowed to exist.
I am not allowed to want.
I am not allowed to sin.
I am not allowed to be.
I am a second, a lower form.
Collateral--
And I'm yours.
Why do you worship my body and yet disrespect it?
And disrespect me?
I cannot exist.
Kiss me just to shut me up----
I'm tired of pretending to be human in a world that won't let me be.
I quit.
You complain that I complain.
But sexism pervades every moment of my life:
I am constantly fighting it;
Each kiss, every ****
My schooling, my career,
Everyday conversations,
All of my relations to other people, no matter which kind,
Each time I shower,
Get dressed,
Exercise,
Turn on the TV,
Go out to the pool or a hotel or on a walk,
Sexism is there to hold my hand.
It is with me.
I've never had an ally so loyal.
It wouldn't dare leave my side.
Would I dare?
To leave it behind?
Would you?
Could we join hands,
Across genders,
Across sexes,
Form a new alliance?
One that helps me feel safe in my own body,
My own mind,
My own home?
That gives other women and other afabs a chance to be seen as more than just bodies?
Will there be a day when I can stand beside an amab, both our chests bare, and be seen as equal?
Will there be a day when you will see me as my gender?
And will there be a day that you will finally see a trans woman as more of a woman than me?
We may be females.
Biologically or mentally--
But that does not define us.
We define us.
This is My Body.
It is not me, but it is mine.
It will never belong to anyone else.
My Body.
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
Inside…
Preachers, teachers, sleepers
Ponies, cronies, phonies
Murders, murmurs, lurkers, tearjerkers
Sexes, hexes, Pseudo T-Rex’s
Splices, spices, identity crises
Chasms, spasms, *******
Tongues, songs sung, smoke-filled lungs, décor hung
Confessions, obsessions, strange blessings
Gargoyles, rich spoils, no mortal coil
Rose windows, ruddy elbows, emperor’s clothes-
A place of chaos and a place of hope
Outside…
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
Lost in the club on the way to the bathroom
American dreamless, existed in a vacuum
Every day, another way for us to consume
Raids on the senses, a general consensus
of the senseless, reprehensible amendments
The armaments by the tenements, diffused
Confused, never used, lonely in the fugue
And you
You who assume, presume, eschew the ruin
of the brewing times, rising tides, the lies
and of ties that bind - us to the times
and to meaningless rhymes
By illuminated rooms when the eye blinks
Think, blink, the pink rink - closed
By the hours that be, powers that see
Subversive naturalism
in a state of debate, compensate the reckless
Feckless and dick-less, compost of the senses
The sexes have wrecked us, ****** of the spectrum
By your septum reset them, mind wiped
Iconic lights gone
The new light's on
Right on
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Circle Circle
Dot Dot
This dream of mine has been shot.
This nursery rhyme is no longer
a good time.
The lights are dimming.
The sexes are mixing,
exposed to the epidemic.
Everything is becoming a work of
spin art.
No medicine can provide a vaccine
for this lifestyle.
Circle Circle.
Dot Dot.
Endless cycles of not.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
I can't concentrate because of your words,
the ones I can't help but listen too.
You say people are selfish
for loving two kinds of people, not one.
You say that it's confusing,
to like both sexes the same.
Like we need you to understand,
like we need your permission to like who we want to like
I never asked you at all.
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 3:29 PM UTC
I'm sick and I'm tired of these men always tellin me
I gotta be round, ***** curvy and sultry
To be down with the boys I must want all the novelties
They fantasize about in their minds, sprinkled with misogyny
Lookin up and down, undressin me with droolin eyes
Can't walk across busy streets without feelin victimized
Violated in public, creeps sneakin peaks up my skirt
All cause I wore tight clothes with a lower cut shirt
Is this all I am, some delectable tasty treat?
Just cause you think I'm delicious don't mean I want your meat
I'm vegetarian now, keep your distance please
Only hungry for life and creativity
Yearnin to grow and continue to educate
Myself even if that means makin mistakes
Already have media fillin my brain with these lies
Don't need to be feelin your hands up my thighs
No I'm not your girl, don't even wanna look at you
Cuz you'll misunderstand my glance for bein into you
So what if you call me a ***** or a ****
Don't care-I won't be the chick bustin your nuts
Just want my mothers and daughters and sisters to know
We're not created to give men any type of show
We're human beings capable of thinking and feeling
As well as making decisions, we have a purpose, a meaning
Other than getting all **** and appealing
Silenced and bogged down by society
Women ***** and murdered, blamed for their femininity
It's a shame men don't realize without us they would never be
We're the only *** on this earth capable of maternity
As breeders of life we nurture and care
Yet our voices seldom heard, like we're not even there
It's time women put a stop to this ****** up** ideology
That we matter far less than our male counterparts - what equality?
Hating on feminism just because they don’t see
This world overflowing with double standards and ongoing dichotomy
Between the two sexes- sure it’s not how it used to be
But sexism runs rampant and will for eternity
Unless we all - men and women - fight against it globally.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love,
Or chide my palsy, or my gout,
My five grey hairs, or ruin’d fortune flout,
With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve,
Take you a course, get you a place,
Observe his Honour, or his Grace,
Or the King’s real, or his stamped face
Contemplate, what you will, approve,
So you will let me love.
Alas, alas, who’s injur’d by my love?
What merchant’s ships have my sighs drown’d?
Who says my tears have overflow’d his ground?
When did my colds a forward spring remove?
When did the heats which my veins fill
Add one more to the plaguy bill?
Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still
Litigious men, which quarrels move,
Though she and I do love.
Call us what you will, we are made such by love;
Call her one, me another fly,
We’are tapers too, and at our own cost die,
And we in us find the’eagle and the dove.
The phoenix riddle hath more wit
By us; we two being one, are it.
So, to one neutral thing both sexes fit,
We die and rise the same, and prove
Mysterious by this love.
We can die by it, if not live by love,
And if unfit for tombs and hearse
Our legend be, it will be fit for verse;
And if no piece of chronicle we prove,
We’ll build in sonnets pretty rooms;
As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs,
And by these hymns all shall approve
Us canoniz’d for love;
And thus invoke us: “You, whom reverend love
Made one another’s hermitage;
You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage;
Who did the whole world’s soul contract, and drove
Into the glasses of your eyes
(So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize)
Countries, towns, courts: beg from above
A pattern of your love!”
1.6k
i like girls
and boys
and cats
and dogs
and fruits
and vegetables
and light
and dark
and black
and white
and wine
and water
but i'm different
because i like both sexes
because i don't care whether you have
***** or a ********
because i can't tell anyone that i want to try having a girlfriend
because then i won't have friends
and i won't be able to live with my roommate anymore
and my family won't love me anymore
i'm not ashamed
but i'm ashamed because you'll be ashamed
but i can't say for sure
you're ashamed aren't you??
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
It was the rain against the windows
And the moonlight sonata playing
That accompanied my transition
Into melancholy insomnia
In the mid-morning deluge of the overcast sky
The reading of books and Freudian dreams
The watching of movies, Kubrick stare and all
Where emotions are captured and paraphrased
Amidst fight clubs and Fantasia
The Klimt surrealism outreaching from the walls
A lone piano listens, glistens; ripples of time
All dissimilar reinventions
Swirling in the incense smoke rings
Dancing in the flowing spirit air
Free and marvelous among vacant living room eyes
Memories recall the rain of Pasadena
Over rustic-themed modernism for
Eager tourists and the nonchalant few
Whispering words to descend the stairs
From the surface to below where thrusting cocktails reside
Years ago in the same position
But younger than I am now
At another desk with a bleeding pen
Pouring over the torn fickleness and skin I saw
Matchstick men smoking flesh roaches in alleyway shadows
Something hidden underneath the seen frailty
Single mothers courting hairless young men
Cracked anchor teens moving to a beat not of their own
Act of demon from the hand of God
Itching skin and slimy **** for sexes of all;
the men can take a turn in bearing the small.
Tales written from reflection and soul
Those wanderers and solicitors passing over the sick
The dead that laugh and the living that cry
Cold flesh injections stock markets for cattle to imbibe
Like so many humans do
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 7:19 AM UTC
this being
dedicated to wicked woman hiding cold eyes
behind overlarge sunglasses;
sporting blackest velvet dress coat firmly buttoned smoking
long, cruel cigarette lit from glare off your cartier-replete wrist
as hordes of men in line to perhaps hold your parasol
while you read tedious course material are turned away
by singular lazy wave of the unsympathetic hand,
ashes falling & cherry red nail polish flaming across
the patio panorama like hellfire;
with hard, rangy body and cut-to-shoulders
blonde curtain to hide behind, safe upon your wicker throne;
wary of males & their hidden, bursting sexes.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
When Adam and Eve played love's old game
We thought early romance a little too rough
We wanted kinder and gentler rules
We looked at it good and added our touch
We turned it sideways and looked at some Masters
Cleopatra and Marcus, Burton and Liz
We looked through history and weighed each technique...
Studying hers and studying his
We re-invented love
Applied TLC without the big rush
Someone had to do it; it was way overdue
And no one gets in it quite like me and you
Making it perfect, re-inventing love
We wanted to see the sexes more equal
From Rome to Paris we studied their style
We watched new positions in old Kuma Sutra
In Mumbai and Murmansk to the banks of the Nile
Now when they ***** a great Hall of Fame
The applause will come down falling on us
They'll put our names upon a big plaque
Everyone marvelling and making a fuss
CHORUS
Bridge: Now the cave man technique is gone from romance
Barbarians no longer can come to the dance
CHORUS
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC