Wronged

Come hither eyes despise

And gloat at easy pickings, prey.

Flaunting promise, egotist

Cannot delay the day

He owns her body and her mind

Travels every quarter,

Possesses all to see and touch,                                                          

After all, he bought her

With wine and dine and flattery

And glinting, glazing gaze,

Some heat, a feat of promises.

Merely love for days.

But eyes know true all she can do,

Patience is her game,

Retribution knows its route.

A poisoned purpose, aim.

A sting or two, unwelcome wound,

Some malice and a cheer

Vengeance potion swiftly served

In glass of frothy beer.

Behind the bar, she tends to fate,

Conquests there abound,

Not all that catch her eye must fear

The potent ordered round.

Just one or two, well maybe few,

Whose undeserving hearts

Relinquished mercy from her hands

Each time their love departs.

She smiles and flirts and shows some favour

To their willing form.

Claiming wives don’t understand

And they are left lovelorn.

Lies, damned lies, she’s found to cost,

Each trivial betrayal,

Is met with lust then vengeance

In glass upon the table.

Drink up, boys, there’s plenty more,

I’m willing and I’m free

For titillation, dining out and

Partying, for fee.

But morning’s dawn will sing new song,

And each new night will bring

Another manly whore around

To laugh and drink and sing;

Flexing muscles, flashing grins,

Strutting their fine glutes

And using lies and lucre

For all their cheap pursuits.

Now faithful wives have staunch ally

And help along the way,

A phone call and a photograph

Help to make their day.

Some castor oil and laxative

Well mixed in each new batch.

Beware, bad boys, the barmaid’s there

And, with aid, she’ll make her catch.

Well Hard.

Sexed-up and keen,

She’s moody and mean

And heavy on the black liner.

Sashays in time

To internal rhyme,

Struts, as though nothing looks finer.

 

Out with the boys,

She makes lots of noise,

Sometimes, squeals with delight.

Holds down her liquor

Makes love, often quicker,

And fills all the machos with fright.

 

She’s tougher than them,

Can tackle the pain

And give just as good as she gets.

Undressed with finesse,

Artfully messed,

And wins almost all of her bets.

 

She’ll kick you to touch

If you as so much,

Declare undying devotion.

She’s been there before,

Not looking for more,

Man’s idea of love, a strange notion.

 

She straddles machine,

Bends forward to lean

And extract more power from throttle.

Look out for when

She stares at you men.

This girl has a truckload of bottle.

 

Stay out of her path,

She cackles for laugh

And flashes her eyes to kill.

She’s toughened up some,

‘Cos treated like scum

Since she was a cute little girl.

 

She’s hard through and through,

So whatever you do,

Don’t go where the sign says, ‘ don’t enter’.

Yes, she’s hard, doesn’t cry,

Though some men still try

But only she knows she  has a soft centre.

 

 

Video reading  https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=1440354522856386&l=4133039580718406615

Perchance To Dream

Unbroken hours,

Scented flowers,

Opiate to dreams.

 

Drifters meeting,

Welcome greeting,

Sparkling iris gleams.

 

A strange caress

On silken flesh

Heated pools of gold.

 

Amber coated honey

Sweet, in creamy

Hidden folds.

 

Dusty shower,

Eyelids lower,

Sparkles in the deep.

 

Wandered mind,

Some dreams to find

In hallowed, blessed sleep.

Image

 

‘Cos no one wants to dream about vampires. I don’t think.