poetry standoff

**All posts originally appeared on poetry standoff


SUBJECT: Getting dumped by Greeting Card
10/07/10

Dumpsville, Population? You.

A welcome surprise from the postman today,
A pink envelope and a giant bouquet,
I tore through the pink with delight and intent,
Taking the time to breathe in your scent.

Rose petals fell out, a clever attack,
With a smile on my face, the card smiled back,
Glossy, embossed, I was confused and amazed,
At the seal on the front with his flipper upraised,

Your intentions unclear, the meaning unknown,
I pondered the card that was waving ‘hello’
An interesting choice from a tempestuous lover,
But you can’t always judge a book by its cover.

I opened the card, expecting great things,
Creative expression and the good that it brings,
Cursive calligraphy, ‘I’s’ dotted with hearts,
Yearnings about my most intimate parts,

You’d promise me loyalty, passion, romance,
You’d cross oceans for me of any expanse,
You’d tell me my beauty is like Helen of Troy,
You’d tell me without me life holds no joy,

But you wrote me a letter you’d never written before
For all that was written was ‘I love you no more’


SUBJECT: Mesh underwear and dinner with the parents.
09/07/10

Meshed Potatoes

It’s quarter to six, I’m feeling quite stressed
Dinners in ten and I’m still undressed,
The laundry’s still wet, no knickers in sight,
I can’t go to mum’s without a fanny dressed right.

The pickings are slim, and now I don’t care,
I suck it all in, for my mesh underwear.
I’m off in a flash! To dinner on time!
A night off from cooking with a litre of wine!

Mums opens the door, with a glass of Merlot,
But there’s something not right with the mesh down below.
I writhe and I shiver, are they starting to shrink?
I send my mum off to fetch me a drink.

With her back turn I strike, at my momentary glitch,
I readjust my gusset, but it’s starting to itch.
I stare at my glass, and ask for ice cubes,
I shift in my seat to unknot my pubes.

Ice cubes in Bordeaux? My father aghast,
he took to the kitchen, while my knickers surpassed
The length of my thighs right down to my knees!
When my mother returned with a side dish of peas

“Alright everybody! It’s time to sit down!
Dinner’s now ready, so please gather round.”
I pulled up my briefs, with a great deal of haste,
Placing the band, back onto my waist.

I gritted my teeth at the hot little fire,
That was knashing my mound like a mess of barb wire,
“My dear”! Mum exclaimed, “You’re so awfully flustered!”
“You’ve not said a word about my unlively custard!”

“It’s hot in here” I stammered, “And the custard is lovely,”
The bread is amazing and the wine is so bubbly”
She smiled at me gently, with motherly love,
when the doorbell went off as a sign from above.

The family distracted, their attention alert,
I strike like a cobra right under my skirt,
They’re off in a flash, and I gather my calm,
As I angrily clutch the vagina napalm.

“Never again”, I say to myself,
Will I wear mesh undies and endanger my health,
The next time I find no clean ones about,
I’ll just turn a dirty pair inside and out.


SUBJECT: A poem about limericks written in haiku
09/07/10

Suggestion Erotica

Dirty limericks
Should be made mandatory
During intercourse.


FIN.