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 Aug 2015
Edna Sweetlove
One of Barry Hodges' (aka Edna's)  charming "Memories" poems

I was in the office with my colleague plump Bet
[totally one of the filthiest ***** I have ever met,
a woman so indiscriminate in selecting a bloke
that no one could be ugly enough to miss out on a poke]
When we heard the news about the Twin Towers attack,
And dear Betty was seized laughing, an aphrodisiac
So fervent it resulted in her gobbing out a lump of phlegm
Green and hideously noisome, a truly lovely gem;
"Splot"* it went onto the floor, lying there reminiscent
Of a frog hit by a passing ten ton lorry laden with cement.

I recognised the symptoms of her desire unfolding
Only too well; I knew that when she got really going
With a frenzied bout of combined giggling and regurgitation,
Only one thing could bring her back to cruel reality: mass copulation.
Thus you will not need to be a polymath to realise and know
That what fat Bet required was to be ******, fast not slow,
By at least half a dozen strong hairy men of lengthy measure
And preferably up her fat ******* for max sensual pleasure,
Whilst she doled out ******* to anyone who offered
To risk their ***** in her mouth so kindly proffered.

Thus it came to pass that I rushed through the corridors
And yelled out to one and all "Betty's got the ******",
Whereupon every red-blooded chappie in the office
[including the one-legged dwarf printer Smelly Boris,
he of the infamous wart-encrusted, donkey ****]
Dropped what he was doing and rushed to the fray headlong
Eager to get their hands on waiting Bet, without fear,  
To give her one up her quivering flabby rear
Before it got too well-stretched, with gape and sag,
Like an old, empty, recyclable, inverted shopping bag.

So, we turned on the TV set to keep an eye on
All the happenings in distant Manhattan
And to keep Bet's state of excitement on the ball;
Dear reader, if anyone ever asks me "Old chap, do you recall
Where you were when the WTC came down?"
I can't forget
That, eager to get stuck in, I had just got my turn with waiting Bet,  
And seeing I was twelfth in line to give her a good poking
Her ***-hole was well and truly greased for action, O 'twas soaking.
In conclusion, my hearing was seriously damaged by her sublime
Multi-decibel screams of lust. Begorrah, but I had a grand old time.
 Aug 2015
Edna Sweetlove
A "Memories" poem by the immortal Barry Hodges aka Edna*

Night fell on Montmartre and, gazing into my love's eyes
Over a candelit chequered tablecloth,
Beneath my belt lurked rancid lust,
The seams of my trousers oozing love's sweet song,
My groin lumped in desire for her wanton ****-flesh.

Streetlight shone through threadbare curtains
Harnessing proudly over my pounding buttocks;
Hermione's screamed climaxes echoing
In deepest recesses of her third-rate mind.
My clear goal: swallow my salty comings, cow.

Morning exposes a sordid scene to chambermaid's gawp:
Spreadeagled cold-as-chilled-salami ****,
Puny synapses crushed like mashed strawberries
Blasted smithereens of overpowering *******
Like chicken's entrails in an unwashed sink.
 Aug 2015
Edna Sweetlove
Yay, it's another lovely Barry Hodges "Memories" poem.*

How happily I recall the excitement of my visits to Lewisham's hospital
For my regular "haemorrhoid adjustment/re-alignment" sessions,
During which time I made the acquaintance of a nursing sister
With possibly the fiercest libido in south-east London.
And one night, whilst we were "on the job" in her comfy cubicle,
I glanced over her fat shoulder through the cracked observation window.

Ah yes, dear reader, it was the relatively cleanish Ward G
(the terminal one where the near-dead await merciful release,
wittily nicknamed "the happy dreamers' room" by the matron,
an evil predatory old **** with a 40-inch waist and wild halitosis);
I watched a spectacularly ugly nurse peering o'er the screen
Around poor old ******* Bertie "Big *****" Bloggs.

His wasted, crippled, whitened pyjamed form
Lay twitching on the none-too-clean patched sheets;
He opened his unseeing, ancient eyes and gave voice:
"Give us a gobble" the old ****** croaked pathetically,
"You know you want to, you fat smelly *****".
And then he croaked.  Unsucked and unloved,

O my beloved lector, compassionate creature that thou art,
Surely thy pleasure will be utterly intensified to learn that
The NHS bedsheets were indelibly and spectacularly stained
As his bowels opened spontaneously with Death's kindly appearance.
"Gor ******* blimey, what a ******* horrid pong," came a groan:
('twas Sammy "No Legs" Smith in mid-**** on a nearby trolley).

These events in the ward led to an inevitable result for me:
You have divined it correctly, O treasured fan of mine,
Yea verily, the happenings I espied made me blow my ***
Most prematurely and my love-partner, the sylphlike Sister Sally,
Was so sodding annoyed she crushed my tender haemorrhoids
Quite brutally in her surgical spirit-hardened left hand.
 Aug 2015
Edna Sweetlove
I once ****** a ******* a boat;
She smelled awful, a bit like a stoat;
She fingered my ***
Which made us both come
And she wiped the **** off on my coat.
 Aug 2015
Edna Sweetlove
Yes! It's another Barry Hodges "Memories" poem!"*

I shall never forget our first date together,
How we wandered through the streets of Soho,
Gazing into the **** shop windows,
Laughing at the giant vibrators on display...

And later, a romantic meal in a French bistro,
Where the rules of hygiene were not
As strictly observed as might have been hoped for,
Promising a regurgitatory treat in store...

You ignored the startled eyes of our fellow diners
And brutally shoved your tongue in my mouth;
O how fiercely I slurped on it enthusiastically
Caressing it with my own mouth sausage...

I ****** and ****** and ****** and ******
And (oh joy!) I could taste the garlicky bits
'Twixt your gorgeous unwashed choppers;
How my underwear damply stretched out of shape...

I withdrew my probing tongue and kissed your cheek
Affectionately, yet trembling with rampant desire;
And I boldly licked a firm yellow-topped spot
With its previously observed black centre...

My huge uncontrollable lust conquered
The demands of demodé bourgeois good manners
And I sunk my incisors into that zitty beauty
Relishing the ******* waiting just for me therein...

The waiting staff were deeply impressed as I chewed
In rapturous sensual joyous contemplation
And you spluttered bloodily in loving agony
Your own mighty ****** fast approaching...

Oh what a foretaste of what was to come
When we repaired to my convenient bedsit
For an immensely gratifying triple bonk
Prior to a staggering mutual diarrhoea session...

And now I lie back in sweet recollection
Of the many nights we spent in copulation
But how sad I am as, looking at the deserted bed,
I can still make out the stains of your dying turds.
Adult Humour Memories
 Aug 2015
Cat Fiske
I try and paint my ugly *** feet,
with black nail polish,
but my medication,
isn't allowing me to feel my hands,
so they shake,
and the only reason I know,
is because of the darkness they've painted,
over my fat uglyer now blackened toes.
just a poem about me painting my nails
 Aug 2015
Tex Dermott
Cletus told Gertrude
Gertrude told Hilda
Soon everyone knew
*A story that was not true
 Jul 2015
Bill murray
My back keeps pinching my sciatic nerve
It's my own problem for loading a hook one hundred pounds
Into a horse wagon year's ago
I guess it was my payback
For all the drug's I used at a young age
Karma caught up to me.
 Jul 2015
Bill murray
Grandmammy just turned
64 today
Grandpappy bought grandmammy
A shirt like a maid
 Jul 2015
Bill murray
Smashing the bug's
In the cabins own hole
Smashing and mashing
Those bugs until I roll
 Jul 2015
Cat Fiske
I watched her bleed tears,
watched the red stain her pale face like it wanted to tear away what was under her skin,
as if tears of blood were telling her you're thicker within.

but you see,
this girl she couldn't stop crying,
couldn't get it all out,
what has been done to her,
she can't even speak about.

you told her blood is thicker than water,
but she bleed the thickest red tears,
so large there like ink,
and will over write your name,

from her memory,
from her family,
from everything you have taken from her,

she won't need you gripping at her ankles,
always being the one to pull her down every time she in another fight,
no longer will will you make her feel like she's living a worthless life,

all the good memories have been bleed on,
red ink does not come out with an apology,
and it doesn't even lift the stain lightly,
when it's done to spite her,

and despite her inocents,
and despite her age,
and despite your gene pool relations,

if all the cards alligned in your favor,
you still better feel some shame.
for the way you acted on a little girl,

to touch her in places her father would never dare,
places where that same father your brother,
wouldn't dare to look at you again,

wouldn't talk to you again,
wouldn't let you near any ******* child gender aside,
again.

if he knew the things you had done,
to his little girl,
he'd of knocked you one,

he'd of made you cry till you bleed.
but he would of made sure you wished you were dead,
before you ever really felt sorry.

but you ruined her,
and you think she should grow up about it,
move on about it,

and forgive you,
she kept silent,
every night she cried because of the things you would do,

and now when she crys,
she bleeds,
Thick tears to cover up the mess,

to try and fix all the monstrous distresses,
fixing her family to feel something right,
breaking limbs off the family tree,

as if they were yours,
and trying to live,
while everyone,

wants to fight,
idk this is like generally bought a few people I know.
 Jul 2015
A Lopez
I want you to take me
To control all of me
My heart.. my thoughts.. my mind
I want you always by my side
From your love I'll never hide
Cause this pure love I long to find

I want you to conquer me
To love me
To care for me

I wanna kiss your tears and pain away
I wanna always be there for you when you need me

I wanna shout out loud ' I LOVE YOU '
So it can reach you
I wanna sing for you
Smile to you
Give you me with no regrets
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