Sphincter factor nine approaches
food for the fish n roaches
methinks its time for me perhaps
to open up the rearward *****.


------------------------------------
AAChoo !!

Oh, liddle sister, Josephine,
you sure don't keep your
nose real clean.
got stalactites
o' pure pea green
my infectious sibling
snot machine.
----------------------------------------
I thought that I might shoot the breeze
with God or Mephistopheles
and ask them please to ease my wheeze
of my bad back and dodgy knees
---------------------------
Croak with the raven
bluff with the crow
the urchin
the field mouse
beneath the hedgerow
in a flurry they scurry
away away go.
Yelp with the *****
howl with the hound
and bay at the moon
till the sun comes around.
------------------------------------------
Gino's bar and grill.

Away, away afore Bacchus
doles out befuddlement
and Morpheus has his way,
lest I awake to find myself
in the company of
sodamistic bedfellows
with buggery in mind.
---------------------------------
Harry Potter has grown a beard
he lives alone and turned out weird.
Dumbledore, Albus, no more
turned his toes and 'ad a snore,
Voldemort, who's *** is taut
has no nose with which to snort.
====================

Ahem !!

Behind two Lilies- sits Rose,
then Daisies
for two and a bit rows.
with Poppy, and *****
Petunia, Primrose.
and Bryony - who gets up
- my nose.
----------------------------------------------
Amen.
God bless the Cows - for beef burgers.
God bless the Pig - for their bacon.
God bless the wife n her sharp knife
for the slice of their **** she's taken.

-------------------------------------------------
We can, no more fetter the sea to the shore
nor the clouds to the sky
or tether the glint
in a lovers eye,
As sure as the shore loves the sea
so shall I love thee, together,
together for eternity,

-----------------------------------

It bends for thee
sweet chevin,
the cane thats cleaved
by three,
wilt thou now
sweet chevin
yield, my friend ,
for me.
-------------------------------------------------
There's Marmalade then Marmite
and Jams thats jammed between
the buttered bread of bard-dom
a poets sweet cuisine.
---------------------------------------------
I took up campanology
and fired up my ****.
I rang that bell
to ******* hell
till the busies
came along.
--------------------------------------------
so, I've been whittling away
at a buoyant ****-
fashioned something approximating
a poo canoe-
in it, I intend to
surf the **** tsunami of old age
to-- death;
I have named it Public - Service - Pension.


----------------------------------------------

A surreptitious delightful tryst,
with my honey, my sebaceous cyst.
she's my pimple, my wart,
my gumboil consort.
she's the zip, in which
my *******, got caught.
--------------------------------------
Frayed at the bottoms
ripped at the knee.
baggy and saggy
big enough for three.
faded and jaded
and stained with ***
but I'm due for a new pair--
Yippeeeee!!

---------------------------------------

Ther­e's Cockerel in my ear
and he bills and coo's for you
whenever you are near
goes - **** a doodle doo !!!!!,,,,,,,,

---------------------------------------------

Oh,­ for the snap shut skin
in the blue twang of youth
and to un-crack the spine
on the book of love.
now the gulping years
have flown away
we take sips of the night
and are spoon fed the day.

-----------------------------

Zeus made the Moose to be somewhat obtuse,
a big deer- rather queer- I fear.
then God gave him the nod to look funny and odd
the spitting image of you - my dear !!!

---------------------------------------

Knobbly Nobby.

Nobby has a great big nose
a great big nose has he,
and nobby knows
that his big nose,
is big, as big can be,
nobby has two knobbly knees
two knobbly knees has he,
his knobbly knees,
are as knobely
as knobbly knees can be,
don’t pity dear old nobby
for soon it’s plain to see,
that nobby has a great big ****
as big, as big as three !
now nobbys **** is knobly,
as knobly as a **** can be,
so nose and knee and ****
make three,
and we - are ****- ely.

----------------------------------

The Woman that wouldn't eat meat,
had reeaally, reeaally big feet,
her **** was as big as an hermaphrodite brig
and her **** were as hard as concrete….


--------------------------------

Hearken the clarion call of the crows
afore the snow-
they caw,
hey, get your **** into gear lads-
we gotta feckin go !!!

-----------------------------

Gods pad

I took a peek within
your house
wherein on pew, I spied
a mouse,
and in his hand,
a Bible clasped,
and out his mouth,
a parable rasped,

---------------------

I'd say she had
a pigeon loft in
her eyes and
bluebells up
her nose.

But then again
I wear a flat cap

and stroll through meadows.

----------------------------

Would you care to buy our house?
It's minus Mouse n devoid o' Louse,!
Spiders, Roaches, Bugs or other,
have all been eaten by my brother,
snaffled up n swallowed down
then jus' crapped out a - yellowish brown.
so would you care to buy our house?
from an oddly pair -- devoid of nous

-------------------------

Though the Crows got her eyes
and the Worms got her gut.
comes as no surprise
death can't keep her mouth shut.

-------------------

Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.

-------------------

Been whittling away at a buoyant ****
and fashioned something approximating a canoe,
in it, I intend to surf the **** tsunami of old age;
I named it, "Public service pension"

-------------------------------

.
Well,
     I could wax on the wings of a butterfly
but, I ain't that kind o' guy.
rather kick the nuts off ******* squirrels
pluck the wings off - blue assed fly.
I'm the stuff that flops off dog chops
when he's up for it and high.
an infection in your sphincter,
a well
that's jus' run dry.

----------------------------------------------

befeathered­ and bright scarlet
is my ladies bonnet,
jauntily askew and -
lilting on a paramours
grin.

"- Gladlaughffi -"

I'm reliably informed that dear ol' Muma
sported a goatee around his **** sphincter,
now, whilst this is merely educated speculation
from my esteemed friend his "groom of the stool" ! 
who was in fact required to wear a mask,
ear muffs and a blindfold whilst he went about his business,
He did possess reeaaally sensitive fingertips
somewhat akin to a blind man reading brail,,
and, swore blind that said "**** sphincter' spoke him in Arabic
and asked him for a quick trim, (short back and sides)
I myself being a practising proctologist of some repute
am inclined to believe my friend the "groom of the stool"
as I've come recognise -- Arsolian when I hear it !!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------

In a Belfast sink by the plughole
where hair and gum gunk meet
'erman the germ-man  and toe jam
bop the bacillus beat.

________

Doctor this I know as fact
that I have a blocked digestive tract,
I'm all bunged up and cannot go
my trump and pump is - somewhat slow.
I need unction jollop for junction wallop
some sorta lotion to give me motion.
If you could please just ease my wheeze
then I needn't grunt and push and squeeze.

-----------------------------

They are breaking out the thwacking sticks
and sparking Godly clogs
pulling tongues through narrowed lips
at the infidel yankee dogs.

------------------------------------

As a paid up member of the
lumpen bourgeoisie poetry appreciation society
I can confirm without fear of contradiction
that poetry is indeed baggy underwear
with ample ball room, voluminous in the extreme
and takes into account
the need for the free flow of flatulent gassiness
that is the want of a ****** up poet.

-----------------------------------------------

She's a rough hewn Trapezoidal gal
a gongoozler o' the ol' canal.
She's copper bottomed n fly boat Sal.

I'll have thee know that
that there hat
is a magic hat,
it renders me invisible
to the arty intelligentsia
and roots me firmly
in the lumpen proletariat .
-------------------------------------------------------
Said the sneaky Scotsman, Jim Blaik.
if the pension, you wish to partake,
bend over my son, lets get this thing done
and cop for this thick trouser snake !!

I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.


He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.

Fandango'd o'er the cornflakes
and the spillage in isle four

-----------------

I'm linier and analogue,
a ribbon microphone man
mired in the dust of the monochromatic,
the basement, the attic.

------------------------------

Simple simon met miss Tymon going to the fair,
said simple simon to miss Tymon - "pfhwarr what a luverly pair"
of silken thighs and big brown eyes and scrumptious wobbly bits,
Said simple Simon to miss Tymon---------- shame about you **** !!!

So sad sweet Shirl thought she'd give a whirl to clubbercise n pound

Squat, slightly,
tilt head 45°
and squint.
See the shimmering blurry
dot in the distance?
That, timorous ****,
is ME !
Fast twitching my
narrow white ****
to the pub.

There was a young lady named Sue.
whose ***** and **** was askew,
whilst taking a ****
she'd aim it and miss
and she lifted 'er hat when she blew.


Oh Mon Dieu !!

Obi.

Daves squeeze.

Waayyy below Mozart
n closer to a doggy ****;
she's in painted toe nails
of poodle dawgs;
in colonic irrigation
of a plastic tummy tucked clone,
she's contemporaneous
with minuscule ****
has extraneous fat Dyson'd
cyclonic Mike Tyson'd
and a crows foot is botoxed
- to *** **** ******* death.....death.

so am I wrong to like James Blunt.
am I wrong to like James Blunt.

she's cut n paste n drug n dropped
last seasons face has up n flopped
am I - am I - am I wrong;
--- to like James Blunt.

she sings sour songs in
cavernous bathrooms
with a badly strung violin voice
but smiles the smile of the fuckyoualls
I'malrightjacks,,,

Am I wrong..to.

just moments ago, a dawning realization
     arose within this sol son begat
from ma late mother
     and octogenarian widower father,
     oh..no nothing cat

tuss strophic, boot merely the revelation,
     how fist bumping dee clocks hour hand ahead
     remembered by dat
dog gone refrain spring ahead, and fall back,

     this unemployed chap doth down play eclat
attests that his quotidian schedule minimally effected
     holed up here in Highland Manor named flat
roomy enough for thyself, the Missus,

     and buzzfeed ding fruit flies
     each approximately the size of a gnat
a minor nuisance, though tolerable
     within this appealing habitat

where minor inconvenience experienced
     by this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania resident
cuz as a recipient of social security disability
     (social anxiety) this psyche didst get rent

which fixed (unearned) income budgeted
     and predominantly costs of living money spent
hence no need to arise bright tailed and bushy eyed,
     a freedom akin to folks camped out in a tent,

which exemption immunizes
     this doodle ling middle aged
     muddle brained chap subject ranting
     early morning drivers,

     who angrily rant and vent  
thus, the tendency, piquancy, and lunacy
     to twitter (for the Yardbirds),
     and keep company with night owls, who went

a hooting for all the world wide web
     to hear, whence dawgs Bach
the exact number of hours, yer oblivious
     to the tight rigorous mortised schedule
     manned by Mister Clock,

essentially foisting on Bread Winners,
     an abstract artificial construct spurring
     madcap commuters to scurry in the rat race,
     lest tardiness could cost

     more than paycheck
     (to ap pier with permanent dock
hue ment aye shun),
     an unwonted blot add hoc
king worry about getting canned -

     i.e. on permanent furlough,
     perhaps forced into a life of crime, yet if caught...
wasting away in a jail cell
     as warden turns the lock

one redeeming factor,
     would offer opportunity to mock
management, and more pertinently
     mandate to rock
and roll to the incessant muted,
     yet devastatingly loud tick tock.

Switch up the samples,
Giving spoonful, howling wolf yes indeed,
I make the tracks bleed, once the vinyl, gets a touch of the need,
Placed at a steady speed,
See my heart,
Similiar to Apollo Creed, try to live sin free, so i dont curse my own seed,
But it seems since im always in a need,
Theres always room for greed,
But if i stay in the light,
The darkness, will be back to bite,
A tip of my consciousness, to slowly digest,
Whats happening in reality, and in reaity,
Real men dont get they credibility,
Only fakers worshipped, fowl praises to the higher bees,
Its all written in prophecy,
Whats a fool to gain his soul,
Only to lose it all, in a fold,
Never seen a brinks truck, following a casket to graved,
Many more souls need to be saved,
Sometimes i slip off, only to put it back off,
Evil vs good, and vice versa,we just playing the same circa,
Revert back to 1923, now we strugglin' still in 2023,
Peep the presence, i lay my royal presence, heavenly worth,
Extended the scrolls growth,
Now they wanna silence, me cuz they scared of the rebirth,

Ben Franklin didnt make ABC 123
But E = MC2 Perfectly
You cant make this up
We were placed here
Its a paradox
But we read
Add subtract
An in then end its down to decimal
Not a penny short
But when 3 men pay for a 30$ bar tab
Whos gonna tip or accept the missing bill
Sounds like a gradual paragraph
Talk about alien
Release the dawgs
Breakfast lunch dinner
You need help
1 store cant feed you
Wish you would know
Goes to show
Are you woke?
I think youre kinda blind personally
Goes to show

How do they know
That you’re not real
When all they see
Is a low-level thee

And how will they know
That you’re a master of the ink and
You’re a great thinker
Who doesn’t get sink by
They eye of those I call blinkers

And how do they know
When they only see a side of you
When they don’t believe you could
When they even reject you
Your hard work bloom

And how do they think they knew
How to make you feel blue
Is it by the criticizes they do
Oops; that doesn’t seem to move
Do they think they’ve broken you
I really don't know
Can someone give me a clue

And how do they (ladies) know
When a man got the cash
I guess they're sniffer dogs
In a field full of hash

And why don't they (ladies) know
When a man is a dog
Can't they tell by his breath
When they're having a snog

And why don’t they (ladies) know
That men who could give everything he gets
To get their dress flinged at the leg of the bed
Only wants to ***
Then, the next is
Go to hell’ *****

And why don't we (guys) know
Which woman to love
Because some of them uhn;
Don't fit like a glove

And why don't we (guys) know
When a woman looks great
It's highly unlikely that
She wants a soulmate

And why don't we (guys) know
That a woman who shows
Too much of her body
Is simply a ‘**’e

And why don't they know
That years down the line
Most men want a woman
Whose body's still fine

And how do they know
When you're looking at them
It's them that you're after
Not one of their friends

And what makes them think
That when you've had a drink
It's okay for them
To tease you with a wink  
And what makes them feel
If their man's not obsessive
The love he proclaims
Just cannot be real

And why can't they see
That their love for money
Will never allow their soul to be free

And why do they try
To always imply
That relationships fail because of the guy

And who is the fool
That said it was cool
To trust everything you’re taught in your school
Or those counselling messages shared in them WhatsApp groups
Or quotes wrote by that psychological dudes
Or some videos you came across on YouTube

And why is it
That after things go wrong in a relationship
That’s when she suddenly develops hips like a ship
Uhn, I got that drip
Thumbs up! b*tch
But not everyone could get ****
By your seductive tricks

And what's with these kids
Who games like PS3
Or some kind of YouTube skit
Is more real
To them than reality is

And why do I feel
Like these questions I’m asking
Can't possibly stop
Young people from blasting gun
Or sniffing puff
And those hacking-thugs
From throwing cyber punch
To innocent head; home and abroad
And them all-night mistress
Whose goods for business
Is kept under their less-rag dress
And them young hood girls
From walking the street with naked ***
Or hanging out with top-labelled dawgs

So what's in a lie
Why not tell the truth
Why do people cry
Why do people do
Things that makes me feel confuse
Why do people die
And when all's said and done
What's up with my mind
Why do I consistently ask why
And oh!
What's with this prose
Called what do we know