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Edna Sweetlove Aug 2015
This is one of Barry Hodges' most inspired memories.

  'Twas morning time in times of yore and I, bold Barry Hodges, stood outside my store, my giant vegetables on display for all to see, when lo and behold! a luxurious limousine drew up, and from the back there emerged a gorgeous form of voluptuous statuesque feminity.
  "My God!" I cried, it is that beauteous lady from *La Dolce Vita
, the wondrous Anita - and I gazed with joyous on her divine body, imagining it sprawled lasciviously in my bed, legs open as wide as a major road junction on the M1 motorway.
  "Excuse me", said she in that Italo-Swedish voice guaranteed to make any man wet himself copiously, "But I am a-lookink for a shop a-called 6B, and yet all I can-a-see is a Barry Hodges' the Master Geengrocer's, complete with a giant cucumber or two, which I 'av to say remind me of somet'ing tasty."
"Dearest lady, said I, you have come to the right place: 6B is the trading name of my sister enterprise: Barry Bodgers' Boil Bursting Beauty Bureau which is located upstairs, Barry Bodgers at your service, my dearest, most delightful Fru Ekberg."
"Shhhhhhhhh! I am een deesguise, not even dear Federico knows I am-a-here." And thus, assuring her of my utmost discretion, and forming a bond by saying that I too, the famous Geordie seducer, Barry Hodges, had indulged in a slight nomenclatural change in order to separate the two sides of my business interests, and in order to do a spot of money laundering on the side.  "But," I enquired, "How is it that you have need of the rather specialised medical services we offer, you who are so radiant and bella-bella?" She lowered her eyes seductively and promised to reveal her terrible secret.

As I ushered her up the stairs to the studio, my eyes on her ****-cheeks wiggling like two delectable beach ***** in a sack, she told me the sad tale of the immense boil which kept recurring on the middle of her back and which no amount of corrective surgery could fix.
"Aha!" I exclaimed, "Only Barry Bodgers, the world's greatest boil-sucker, can effect the cure for which you long, and I shall operate on you personally, not entrusting such a task to even the best of my boil-bursting minions." I added to myself, "Also I want to give you a good old bonking while we're at at."

Once we attained the privacy of my consulting room, I instructed her to strip off utterly so I might examine her, and I can tell you, dear reader, that her **** **** was a joy to behold. I too divested myself of my clobber, knowing that boil-******* can get a bit messy at the best of times. Jesus wept!, but the mighty boil betwixt her graceful shoulders revealed when de-plastered was a true horror, with a yellow tip as big as a Grade One Belgian Turnip. I explained that I would **** it out whilst I rogered her from the rear and that, when she felt her ****** on the way, she should scream out to that effect and I would then bite the core of the boil right out in a blaze of mutual ******* glory, before applying a dose of my exclusive Boil Preventative Cream, namely a handful of our conjoined love-juices extracted from her gaping ***** by hand a few seconds earlier.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" screamed the Swedish bombshell and with a mighty **** like an industrial Dyson FX334 on full power, I slurped and  razor-bit the boil, bursting it asunder, smothering my eager face in blood and putrid pus, thereby causing me to blow my *** as ne'er before. The green core of the boil emerged from its fleshly cavity with a deafening plop as we came together like a nuclear blast d'amour.

O, but only then, as my seminal outpourings soaked my jim-jams, did I awaken to discover yet another nocturnal emission. And, not unexpectedly, dear Nurse Nellie, having heard my cry of ecstasy, rushed in to my bedroom, head-shaking and tut-tutting as usual, as she knelt down and licked my tum-tum dry.
"Yum, yum" she murmured in her dulcet Northumbrian tones, "Ah've looked after three generation o' Hodges laddies, and I kin tell ye, your *****'s the tastiest of them all, ye bonnie wee man."
"Better than Grandad Charlie's?"
"Why aye, mon, yours is well creamier."
Ayeshah Aug 2016
Mind racing thoughts

As I screamed;  
with my mouth closed;
  too afraid to open up
and
let the voices  out

Who
knows what they'd say;
if allowed to shout Loudly
what's always
in
my head.

Secrets
left
unkempt
have ways
of
coming out.

Shhhhhhhhh

Please  don't  tell!

(
they'll send me away again with medicine & try to  make me forget *)
© 2015-2077 by Ayeshah K.C.L.N.
All rights reserved.
No part of this may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,without prior written permission of Ayeshah K.C.L.N
Sister Carnalis Dec 2014
I know you read my journal,
I see the hunger in your eyes,
At night, when Mom is working,
I hear your trembling sighs.

I say a silent prayer for you,
and push my ******* to the floor,
I pray you'll have the courage ,
to step in my room and close the door.

I'll pretend i'm sleeping soundly,
you'll drink in my youthful naked form
exposed and unprotected,
it's just the two of us...alone.

as if in gossamer mists of slumber,
i'll caress my hairless **** and moan.
Come a little closer Daddy,
Mother's not at home.

Shhhhhhhhh, pretend your not there,
standing by my bed,
your **** all hard and throbbing,
glistening pre-*** on its swollen head.

I'm watching you rub and stroke it,
your nuts are tight and filled with ***.
and now you see my eyes are watching,
see my cherub lips ...extended tongue.

I know you read my journal,
and I know you know I've known,
don't waste the precious moments,
when Mother's not at home.
Amanda Fletcher Apr 2015
Shhhhhhhhh, shh, shush!
They can hear you!
The sun is shining and you’re excited
but you’re missing the point!
It’s about change, something new.
It’s about the sport bamarama homerun
outta the park and into their eyes.

Huuuuushhh!
We can’t be a bunch of buzzing flies,
Mean, disturbing cries disguised as whiny babies.
Well, I guess this whole thing is a baby,
But also a promise, to the future.

Shhshshhshhh.
Call it Heaven,
because once they give us the key
the pearly gates open wide.
Let my angels sing with their large white wings.
We got a future to fly for.

Shhhhhhhhh!
Don’t you get it?
Freedom of speech doesn't unlock your voice box.
It strings your arrow and pulls it back,
shooting through the hearts of grey suits.

Hush.*
Now you know,
don’t give away your position with your battle cry,
shoot your arrow into the source.
Written under pen name Abbey Day
Ottar Feb 2015
always
poking
at the sky,
waiting for the signs,
to change,
crashed through a mile-
stone marker,
foolin' with life,
hands on the wheel of
what is broken down,
dark, dark, dark like area
fifty-one
grams are instant,
you might figure it out,
then again, whenever...

first heard of denver,
rhymes and reasons,
eagles and hawks,
music to my ears,
oh then came the tears,

Road Weary too early
in this Rotten World,
but rw came along,
and laughter filled
this heart,
to over flowing,
until tears
came from every laugh
and ... then...
only the tears.

A r m, there was no
harm, only a heart
for God,
step by step you
brought me closer,
if i stand,
brought
me to my knees,
understanding your love
for the Navajo
nation.

Too hard to be a bard,
all the waves that
sound like me
are hammered flat,
sharply.

Too soon.Wanted to grow
old with all of you
even though we share so little
phil-o-so-phically,
but here it is play
with words,
sun still rises
and watching flights
of birds and
dragonflies
make me pause;


from the shape of the sky
to a colour of the paint
that comes from the sun
in the clouds.

Then walking with ugly
toes with feet and
knees,
older than they should be,
seeing
people on the street,
who
love to hate,
hate to love,
each day is a wrestling
match in an atmospheric cage,
that puts ufc to shame,
seeing way more
than can be put on
parchment,
the will, be tried.

roof over my head
like a hat hanging
on an empty coat
hook
between the ribs
tearing at a heart
that refuses to
stop
beating while
being beat up by voices
that keep coming out
of the dark, dark, dark

shhhhhhhhh
whispers,
wisps
of hope
that knowing
as long as the
sounds of music
from many artists
find the ears
and,
able to feel,
lines of tears
and too
the laughter
echoes,
echoes in the
empty hallway
that swallows
red and white
and clear,
I live to write
another
day.
Take courage
to Play
the ukelele
if may I
by deSign.
12 poems in 2012, the other 760+ in 25 months, I had no other way to show You.
For helping me, for saying I matter,
you will never know
what you have been part of
thank you
200K reads
101 followers
A r m - a Rich Mullins, any and all of his music, "step by step", 'if I stand"  denver is John Denver, Rhymes and Reasons, Eagle and the Hawk, two very powerful songs in my teen years, RW is Robin Williams, made me laugh when well...strange what happens to you inside when people you look up to, successful people show their human side, makes you want to believe in yourself and what you can do, just a little bit more, better.
Makes it easy to believe that there is much more than meets the eye, in this world and especially every person.
Enough reading, do what you do best...write and read aloud
Thankyou for reading this if you made it this far, Thank you for all
of your
Poetry.
No Muses were injured, overworked or expected to get a tattoo with my name on it, during this poetic adventure.
Anthony Moore Jun 2010
Shhhhhhhhh
Do you hear that?
I think I've heard that song before
Can you play it once more just to be sure
'Cause under all this water
Everything sounds strange
So can you stay in your lane
I'm not down with the pain
I don't need to know your name
Or your status in the game
I feel like we came for the same thing
So quench my thirst and cure my hunger
You get on top after I go under
Then the rain and thunder
Sound like an infinite number
And as you start to sing
They continue to bring
Ceaseless diseases that break me to pieces
So I'm begging Jesus please just release us
The singing has been ringing
And already started stinging
Can you take it back to the beginning
When it all seemed more fitting
This sound is dampening what's left
**** near making me deaf
So show me the next step
Because I still can't hear anything yet
Anthony J. Alexander 2010
Lily Audra Aug 2021
I love romance,
Soppy songs about broken hearts and longing and holding hands
Have always made me spin and swoon,
American films where lovers meet on a bridge and
They're so happy at the end they cry and so do I,
I love flowers
And poems
And benches with declarations,
I feel romantic about lots of things,
But mostly my friends,
Who hold me like the string of a kite when I flail wildly,
I sit in the raft of their safety and we take turns to row,
To be in love so deeply,
My friends smell so nice and have kind hands and open hearts,
I'm quite broken,
Or so it feels,
But those I feel romantic for quietly hold my pieces until I ask for them back,
The moon shines like a silver coin and its beauty makes me feel worse,
I feel romantic about the moon
and flint walls
and empty bodies of water
and my friends who whisper shhhhhhhhh as I fade into sleep,
Makes me believe I am loved and lovable.
Jojo Aug 2015
Dad
SHHHHH

The hiss of my father signals
That I have been too loud
Again.

SHHHHHHHHH

Again, my father admits
That he values
Silence over my Presence.

"Do you know what I mean?"
I say, after explaining some issue I was facing.
"No"
He says, shutting down our communication
With no other signs
That my conversation means
Anything more to him
Than white noise.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Brujo Alligatore Nov 2015
I will squeeze you well
I will place your nauseous body
In the jaw
I will place the top of the skull upon you
The head will hold you tight
In its mouth
And you will be still
And feel the joy
Shhhhhhhhh
Chris Dec 2018
I'm lyrical
Vocabulary wreck varies
Some words twisted meanings
I ate the cherry

Spit out disease
With these words I'll thrive

Not to be the best
To be noticed

To protest
Express
Dreams into reality

From underground
Love hates war days

To waking life up
To the end of days

Until my last breath
Until I can breathe

In this moment of time
On my music you'll feed

In this mind you'll find my days were restless
Lyrically inclined ecliptic miracles it's nothingness

To the hearts ear
You want them to hear
Shhhhhhhhh
Lisa Pike Sep 2016
Round round round round
Stop start, round and round
Stop the spinning. Let me rest.
Is this a test?
A test to see if I have to do all of this again?

No more mistakes..No more anger.
Goodbye frustration..
Seriously? Never happen

Round round. JUST STOP
I wanna get off.
I need shhhhhhhhh. Get off the the **** up train .
Brain rest.

Cup me protectively .. Hold me gently.
Fragile synapsis..Broken and no connection.
Not firing on all cylinders.


Stop start
Round round
STOP!
Ryan O'Leary Aug 2018
Freedom of thought
is when we are not
obliged to say what
we've been thinking.
Croiyon Dec 2017
Shhhhhhhh
Here I come
In through the front door
I came to see you
Through the halls, I creep just to be near you
Into the kitchen, I go
To see if you're there
Next to the bathroom
But you're not there
Then to the bedroom, I come
And here you are
resting so peacefully
and guess what
I brought a knife
with your name on it
Shhhhhhhhh
I'll be done before the morn
Donall Dempsey Mar 2015
THE LANGUAGE OF SNOW

"Shhhhhhhhh..!" sushes Snow
&: World hushes.

Snow speaks quietly whitely.

Landscapes listens.

All that can be  
heard  

... Snow's voice.
Mitali Das May 2020
Let you and I fly the land,
Where the COVID can't reach us.
Where we breathe the fresh breeze,
We touch each other and kiss.

Hand-in-hand we walk on some ******, unexplored roads,
With the hope to step in the heaven unseen.
The ripe fruits you plucked,
Indicates the maturity to handle my unripe moods.

Oh the bed of roses!
Seems the unseen staged it,
Seems you too were eagerly waiting,
To witness the maiden union of the two of our bodies.

Thirsty, hungry and tired
I began complaining.
You put your finger on my lips and whispered,
"Shhhhhhhhh….
Don't say a word,
Mouths can be used in other ways,
So as tongues artfully can move in other ways.
Let's wordlessly convey all the things
We have waited all this while to say."

I see my reflection in your eyes,
As our lips unite.
My heart urges you to taste me until
You can take no more.

Let my body lie on the bed,
And your hands explore it.
Make love like the world is going to end.
Give your everything to me
And love me hard.

You closes my eyes.
Ignore the clock as your fulfillment.
Only ******* is on my mind,
Lemme make you forget the world tonight.

You whisper sweet little nothings in my ears.
I am unaware of the *******.
As I regained my senses,
I am shy but my eyes tell a different story.
You forcibly take away my hands I used to cover my precious things.

The more it gets in,
The more it heightens the ecstasy.
Finally the quest for depth is fulfilled.
Still the thirst remained unreplenished.

There lies something beyond the flesh-play,
Something that blends two souls.
When it's not about devouring up the skin,
But the marriage of two souls.
A union pure and beautiful.
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com


                                           ­  Cigarettes and Despair


You’ve been to junior high; you know the drill
When childhood fragments into hormones and emotions
And nobody told you it was coming
The fear, the wild uncertainty, the loss

You’re expected at funerals and weddings
(Shhhhhhhhh! They do what!? I don’t believe it! Why!?)
You’re too old to play with toys anymore
Too young for Jack Daniels and midnight rides

You steal a couple of Daddy’s cigarettes
And smoke behind the smokehouse, in despair

— The End —