I may be fat but I can cook soul food to put you in a good mood I don't mean to be rude but you look like a string bean
You only know how to make sandwiches I can make steaks to take your breath away
you say I look like a steak but you can't even make a cake you need to drink more shakes
I need to eat more salads but at least I have a big wallet
I may be fat but I can dance your eyes are glued to my thighs are you hypnotize yet
Do you want to take a chance and try to beat me in dancing you can't defeat me
I can shake my hips and do flips I can drop it like its hot you can only pop that's not much
Oh, now you want to challenge me but you can't balance on the dance floor
The crowd wants to see me more you were just a bore
I may be fat but I'm the one who looks pretty in this skirt you look silly like Big Bert
You say I don't look good in a bikini because I'm not tiny but at least I'm not bony like you
You say I look like a buffalo but at least I don't have a problem finding a fellow
I don't mean to be a pest but you started this mess why don't you give it a rest
I'm fat but I'm telling you I'm the best you don't need to guess
I may be fat but I'm good at writing poetry
You say that you're good too but people are going to say boo to you
You say that isn't true and I need to pray because I won't win but I know I can
You say that people wouldn't pay cash to see me but they will chase me I have a nice ass
you say your poetry will get publish but that's only a wish I will you forgot to take your pills
Men want to be with me because I have meat on me you only have bones
You say that I don't look like a model but men want to play with me and pay me to date
I may be fat but I found a man who likes me like that but your man said you act like a brat
I'm getting married tomorrow don't feel sorrow
You can laugh but at least I'm glad that I'm not sad or bad and I'm not a brat so take that
When snakes had legs and love was free,
A man called Adam climbed a tree.
Although he knew the act was banned,
He plucked an apple with his hand.
In Eden you could always find,
Delicious fruits of every kind.
And everyone of them were free,
Except the apples on this tree.
A snake you see, the curse of man,
Had swayed the mind of his woman.
His partner Eve had tried it all,
Except this luscious juicy ball.
But God had made it very clear,
He was the one you had to fear.
There is one thing you should not do,
”This tree is mine, and not for you!”
When battle rages in man’s mind,
To do what’s right for all mankind.
A woman’s will, will then prevail,
No matter if it makes him fail.
So Adam plundered to his fate,
His woman said she could not wait.
He plucked the fruit to his demise,
No matter that it was unwise.
Now God’s authority was broke,
They’d disobeyed the words he spoke.
He told them both to go away,
And closed his garden from that day.
So Eve and Adam, duly clothed,
Now left that place they’d been betrothed.
And found a world so large and free,
Where they could climb just any tree.
The snake of course had lost it’s legs,
Because he put God’s power to test.
By tempting woman in this way,
He’d had an awful price to pay.
But God it was, who came off worse,
His power was gone, and even worse.
A ‘woman’ had defeated him,
By making man commit this sin.
So women now will rule the land,
Not God, or men you understand?
For women conquer all they see.
While God enjoys ‘snakes legs’ for tea!
Lucy and Matilda were on the job at the burger joint.
Bad boy Buzz Muldoon rushed in brandishing a gun.
Matilda kicked the would-be robber square in his junk.
Lucy bashed his head in with a badass ball-peen hammer.
The two hard working ladies continued cleaning up the joint.
They chunked Muldoon in the dumpster with the rest of the trash.
Lucy and Matilda opened the establishment without missing a beat.
It was just another typical day right here in the big bad city.
To be successful entrepreneurs in this old turbulent world,
you have to grow a pair of big brass gnarly ones, be you male or female.
I have heard: Women burn fat almost 10% slower than men
It's does not feel justified
I have heard: Women live on average 3 years longer than men
Women have a better durability date (used before: .. - ... - .....)
Men: (must be used within: .. - .. - ....)
Why is it only women who are thinking about calories and diets
I bake delicious cakes .... that can only be eaten by my husband
..... I think I'll try one more piece :)
A-L Andresen :)
Before the "I do" she must choose
A man that does well in dance shoes
His psyche gives a clue
When employing step two
Ply him to the limit with booze
A spanking good tale
I read a blog -was it only yesterday
I haven’t laughed so much, I can truly say
About large women and I will not make fun
That’s because I am turning into one
But the blog that I read proved there is hope for all
As long as we can make sausages, if I recall
A massage or two with a pin rolling flat
Is it to iron out wrinkles or reduce the fat?
A spank a day or so I have heard
Is what middle age men like, but girls think absurd
A front bum, well that’s a new one on me
I have enough in the rear to perhaps make up three
But what gives me hope, apart from the front bum thing
Is that some men out there seem to enjoy this sort of thing
So send me you dreams followed by your numbers too
I’ll put them aside for when I’m ready for you
So thank you Chris for your blog yesterday
You have given hope to all women and that’s all I can say
Inspired By Chris D Aechner's Blog 15/02/2012
I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.
Women are a thing of beauty
Created by God for man
From their different hips,to their lushes lips
Or the gentle touch of their hand
They all have a way about them
That I've noticed throughout the years
They have tender hearts,and precious smiles
With beautiful eyes that sparkle,when filled with tears
But they constantly look at other women
Though none will tell you that it's true
From their styles of hair,to the clothes they ware
It's a hidden secret that they all do
Some will say that I'm wrong
As they claim,"Hey that's not me"
But I'm a man who has watched for many years
And am now exposing the secret that I've seen
Some of them are concerned about their weight
Or possibly the droopiness of their breasts
Or the stretch marks that may have appeared some where
Along with menopause,PMS,and all the rest
All I can say is we are men
Who don't really notice most of those things
You are all beautiful in your own special ways
And you will always be a part of our dreams
Your love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and i'm
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried
by the dove of someone I use to know.
Come join the three for another cheap, meaningless day in their lives
They consider themselves to be hip, part of the same sex marriage, Burly the
husband, Flo and Mary the wives
Their day always starts at the breakfast table bashing the males that exist
They wish the males could be on the endangered species list
Sometimes things change among the three, as the estrogen level rises in Burly
Once a month, she wants to be a wife and act very girly
As for Mary and Flo, they think Oprah is hot
Burly thinks Rosie O'Donnell has the goodies she so much has sought
They sip their Busch Beer out of Nascar Coozies
There is no more room for anymore women within the circle of The Three
From their point of view, all men should be women's slaves
Burly has a strong scent of Old Spice after shave
They love watching domineering women type movies
The popcorn is shared by all Three Floozies
They go out to only all girls clubs
They cheer on the under dogs, their favorite one is the Chicago Cubs
Their closets are full of clothes by Dickies
They leave each other love notes on little stickies
Mary likes champagne on a store brand soda budget
Flo likes Butterbeans with cumin to make them smell pungent
Burly likes Pickled Eggs and sardines
Burly's favorite movie line is In space no one can hear you scream
Flo's favorite movie line is Go ahead, make my day
Mary's favorite movie line is My name is Chucky, do you wanna play?
Burly dreams of one day wrestlin' steers
Mary is concerned that Burly one day will leave, that's her worst fear
Flo watches the WWE, she is such a loyal fan
Burly uses her forehead to smash empty beer cans
None of you are mothers, so on your peanut butter selection, quit being choosy
Mary, Flo and Burly are today's Three Floozies
The Pilgrims were so happy to finally set foot on Plymouth Rock,
They decided that the time had come for each to take some stock.
They built themselves a Pilgrim town of houses and very little more,
Then they sent the women out to get groceries at the Pilgrim store.
Pilgrims lived in a time when it was thought that only women ever shop,
They weren’t very enlightened and men would never make that stop.
While the girls were at the store the men invited the Indians over for lunch,
So as soon as the women got home they had to go get more to munch.
The men started to toss an old pumpkin around that was long and kinda tall,
Then they played shirts against the skins in a game they named football.
While the women worked to prepare a feast, the men all went for a walk,
With buckled hats and feathered plumes their parade was all the talk.
The women wanted revenge so they picked cranberries to make an awful sauce,
Then they made the men eat it the stuff just to show them who was boss.
Then there came a heated discussion whether to use sweet potatoes or yams,
Then a second argument broke out about the use of turkey meat or hams.
It all seemed to calm back down when the Indian cornbread was finally tried,
And the Indians really liked the green beans topped with onions that were fried.
And when the day was done and the guests took home the left over feast,
The men cleaned up the dishes, since it’s what women liked to do the least.
This is how they all came together and invented the first Thanksgiving,
It gave them strength to continue on with the hard life they were living.
The Native Americans went back to their home and were grateful for so much,
“But next year,” they said, “let’s tell the English it’s our year to visit with the Dutch.”
You send bolts through my skin
something I was never to
accomplish with you, when I
saw you it's like my heart sank
to my stomach and I was in
shock my body still my body
heavy felt like when I moved I
was about to fall to my knees
you make me want to get
inside my brain pick you up and
take you out pick you one by
one like a flower because I do
love you and love you not.
Crookhill ladies take the tee
On their very first “girly” golfing spree
To High Street stores they wave goodbye
Preferring sun-baked Spanish skies ,
Aperitifs in long, cool glasses
Served by waiters with tiny asses
No tears were shed, all eyes were dry
As they boarded EASY JET 109
On route for the infamous, Alicante
Where golfing convention rules out “hankey-pankey”
Aperitifs in long, cool glasses
Served by waiters with black silky ‘tashes
Pretty conservative as you’d expect
These would be, competition golfettes
All that is, except for Sheila
A real little animated golfing diva
She’ll sip the aperitifs in long cool glasses
More likely to kick than kiss their assets
All thoughts of home are driven away
Anticipating the games they’d play
Of practice, putts and competition
With dreams of victory a firm conviction
They sip the aperitifs in long cool glasses
While thoughts may turn to the young Señors' assets
Balmy nights they came and went
Their passion for golf now almost spent
Except for our Sheila - golfing diva
Lifting the trophy, a mega achievement
Sips champagne till way past dawn
Her entourage, she can’t recall
Coincidence?, I really can’t say
But those Spanish Señors look content today
Well it was another one of those days
Where the devil had come about
I was trying to write about the beauty of women
And the words just came right out
What I was trying to say was their all beautiful to me
And most men that I know would be sure to agree
But the words that I wrote that flew out so free
May have started a hate for me that I shall soon see
Now I'll spend my days all alone,and affraid to leave this house
For a woman might sneak up and try to strangle me with her blouse
I should have never wrote those words because I'm a spouse
And now my wife probably thinks I'm nothin more than a louse
But what I was trying to say was somethin most men will all agree
You don't need to always compare yourselves for it's something we all see
Your shoes,your clothes,your hair,your nails, it all just drives us so crazy
You all have your own beautiful look so please accept it and just let it be
I never meant to degrade you in anyway or to cause you any alarm
But the hits those words received seems like I may be heading for some harm
So I ask for your forgiveness and please don't send out your women of arms
Because I told the men in my neighborhood,and their quite handy with their charms
I become quite vain when around pretty girls.
And a whole flock of them makes my head whirl.
I asked one, "Do you have a disease?"
She said, "I was fine a moment ago, but NOW I wanna hurl!"
NOTE: This was based off a true story (though I exaggerated it slightly, for the sake of having it rhyme and fit with the limerick). I came into work one day and noticed one of my co-workers didn't look so hot. I was concerned and said, "Are you feeling alright today? Did you sleep well?". She just looked at me and said, "I'm quite fine, Timmy. I've actually had a full nine hours sleep... I just didn't take the time to put my make-up on this morning". Needless to say I never quite heard the end of it...
If you ask me, who are my favorite
Teachers at school –well, I’d say there are six;
All of them are good friends too, you know –they’re
Like a box of assorted chocolates!
Miss Latifa is Black American,
She’s the coolest expat teacher at school –
She’s like a basketball –fun to play with
But if it hits your head it might hurt –that’s
When she yells at you –if you break her rules.
Miss Sultana is from Oman. She is
Our friendly teacher in Geography –
Her smiles are as innocent as babies’
And when she speaks she does so like sweet flight
Attendants discussing airplane safety.
Miss Rasha is from Morocco, our tall
And pretty teacher who teaches us French
She may look like a Barbie doll but her
Class is like a movie that brings suspense
For the zeros we get are too intense…
Miss Heba is from Jordan. She teaches
Us Math in a very delightful way –
Although Math is a subject that I hate,
I enjoy all the games she’d let us play –
She’s like a cool breeze in a scorching day.
Teacher Mashaa’el, a Saudi local,
Teaches us Islam in the subject “Deen”.
She teaches as fast as a cheetah runs,
Yet her lessons are well-taught and clear –And
Speaks like she has a mike so all can hear!
Teacher ‘Aisha is Saudi-Syrian and
Is the most beautiful teacher at school!
In many ways she’s like a lioness
In terms of character and when she rules –
She hates fakes and students who act like fools.
They work together as a team of friends
Whose friendship is as tight as clips and glue
They’re loyal to Allah first and foremost
And faithfully obey all the school’s rules
They’re excellent leaders though they are few!
Note: This is a made-up poem, not based on any character in real life :)
Oh! but the jealous thing She has eyes flaming green How to quench what hell spurns Where envy and mischief does burn Revenge on her lips she's an Irish queen
Is my life not tortured enough for you to see?
I am broken as can be.
My heart is torn.
My tears stain these perfect floors.
Why are singing with glee?
Why do you not care about my every plea?
I am trapped in your arms.
I am the hopeless moth.
How did you pick me?
What is it that you see?
A girl untouched by life?
A flower blooming in the desert?
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.
On the first day of Christmas my granny gave to me, an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the second day of Christmas my granny gave to me, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the third day of Christmas my granny gave to me, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the fourth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the fifth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the sixth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the seventh day of Christmas my granny gave to me, seven cocks a crowing, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the eighth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, eight dogs barking, seven cocks a crowing, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the ninth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, nine women baking, eight dogs barking, seven cocks a crowing, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the tenth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, ten birds chirping, nine women baking, eight dogs barking, seven cocks a crowing, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the eleventh day of Christmas my granny gave to me, eleven bikers riding, ten birds chirping, nine women baking, eight dogs barking, seven cocks a crowing, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
On the twelfth day of Christmas my granny gave to me, twelve carolers singing, eleven bikers riding, ten birds chirping, nine women baking, eight dogs barking, seven cocks a crowing, six hedge hogs and five shining bulbs, four Christmas cards, three baking tins, two jingle bells and an ornament to put on the Christmas tree
Reference/ Inspiration: The twelve Days of Christmas
She hails from San Antonio
In the great state of Texas
And there is something you should know:
She is not just a cowgirl
She is a walking party
She can chug drinks like Jack Daniels,
Crown Royal, Jim Beam and Bacardi
She loves the Country Music
Of Jack Ingram, Pat Green,
And the king himself George Strait
Every guy that takes one glance at her
Wants her to be their next date
They love the way she walks
In those tight Wrangler jeans and her white cowboy hat
She is an absolute fox
I wish I had the courage
To ask her out
But she is way out of my league
There is no doubt
She is so hot and Texas trouble
My tale about the barnacle I bared upon my bum
has now passed into legend and folk law
The battle I thought was over and now long done
Just when I thought I could sit down and relax
and lick my wounds
and heal my poor bum
I now have two barnacles
clinging on instead of one.
Their jealous of each other
and like a porcupines
my bum is very sore
I'm stuck in the middle
and I don't think I can take any more!!!!!.
My telephone is melting
and they push love notes through my door
I'm divided down the middle
and I'm preparing for war.
I have no idea why they follow me around like flies
maybe it's my aftershave that smells so nice
There's nothing about me
I do declare
but everytime I turn around
there's always someone there.
Why couldn't it ever be
who I really like
I even tried to escape on my motorbike last night
I thought I was just saddle sore
but latter when I pulled my trousers down
what did I see
not two barnacles but three.
I darn't leave the house no more
and I've barricaded myself in
I'm now a nervous wreck
and I've taken to drinking Gin
I've sealed the letter box and took the phone of the hook
and have been searching amazon for a useful book.
If your a poor sufferer too
have a hammer and chisel
we can help each other get through
just bare your bum like me
and maybe we could throw the barnacles back into the sea.
''Beware! their out there''.
Peter Dome. copyright.2014.march.
If married women were painted blue
so men knew who to hit on to.
And fatter women came with numbers
so men could tease their weight than wonders.
If meaner women wore bright socks
so men could save themselves hard knocks.
And stupid women's shirts had stripes
that dumb old men could find their types.
If all these wonders became true.
The day when women paint themselves blue.
Victoria’s Secret Well Kept
By Elton Camp
Those pictures of sexy lingerie
Women is intended to betray
Come buy here and look like this
They imply to each passing miss
Women like those are very rare
It’s why their pictures are there
Women’s fantasies to inspire
Marketers never seem to tire
To look that sexy and cute
It puts women into pursuit
Real women whom men admire
Don’t need such garb to inspire
There’s no need to look divine
Ordinary appearance is just fine
Men look, but don’t highly rate
Such a wife would intimidate
If my wife looked like that dame
She might be hunting another name
A regular wife will surely do
For I’m ordinary looking too
The Cyber Nymph
Loch David Crane
August 18, 1997
Lie back--expose your belly ring
up unto the sky. . .
I just hope when I get down close
it won't put out my eye!
That summer I was 48
and she pert 25;
I left Prozac in the cupboard
and Reality went Live.
I shoulda taken time to stop
and used the vorpal rubber
But 48 he couldn't wait
to find another lover.
So while the Sun was merciless
to sand and skin and sea
"If she swells I'm sure she'll tell,
returning then to me."
I must admit I got her drunk--
I used her just for sex:
Blue and blond with freckles,
suntanned buns and pecs.
But she revealed computer skills
That took away my breath.
Her dancing cyber fingers sang;
I soon saw who was best.
Ol' 48 could bare compute
"Not very fast" she said;
"I've practiced years not to be fast"
gasped I, collapsed in bed.
Then the Sun warmed up the honey--
it dripped twice more in a row.
Ulysses' "rosy-fingered dawn"
beheld her frown, dress, and go.
That freshly-flossed feeling
reverberates my spine
A smile wells up from deep inside
and stays there all the time.
At play I watched this cyber nymph
on Netscape and E-mail;
Her eyes flashed, fingers flying,
shaking golden ponytail.
"You're kinda slow," she grumbled,
"But I like that in a man," she grinned,
making me feel great.
My old 12 color monitor
was not enough for her;
More movies, GIFs, and videos
flew by me in a blur.
But 48 he had a trick:
while she stared at the screen
I spoke in her ear, nibbled her neck,
and adored her like a Queen.
I kissed and bit and licked and squirmed
'til wrists and spine went quiet--
The way a mouse's legs go still
when python's on his diet.
And then the honey dripped once more,
the Sun was past its rise.
I felt its rosy hug and knew
that love was in my eyes.
I asked her for her address,
she wrote with @ in code;
I said "I'm too old fashioned"
and asked for her telephone.
So when you dream, sweet 25,
tall cyber nymph of mine,
remember please old 48
who isn't past his prime.
And as the honey of the Sun
drips down into the sea
I'll recall my Cyber Nymph
and she will undelete me.
Don't ask me how it happened; I have no clear recollection. I have always had this brazen habit of coming right out and directly asking for whatever I want; I always figured "no!" was the only worst possible outcome, aside from a good cussing, perhaps. Either or both I can handle.
My best friend, who had invited me to this event, wasn't even a speaker; she was just present for class credit and I had nothing better to do so I happily joined her. Her professor was the director, or MC, of the night's festivities and proceedings and Jill introduced us soon after we entered the banquet hall and before the speaking commenced.
I also have this horrid habit of mentioning that I am an artist to anyone of any importance or significance whatsoever, hoping to sound gallant and impressive. I can only surmise that Jill's teacher asked me what kind of artist I was, and I must have boldly stated, with an air of haughty confidence no doubt, that I was a de facto grand poet of the ages. I was only 19 at the time and thought I was Poe! My style was sloppy and unrefined, but I didn't know it yet.
Given that this was a "Women's Studies" organization and all guest speakers that night were, obviously, going to be female, I don't know how I convinced, finagled, schemed, bulled, or mechanized my way into making myself an impromptu speaker as well that evening. It was an "anything goes" type platform, from women reading poetry to short stories, to essays or presenting artwork. I was, I kid you not, the first male to EVER be a speaker at this "Women's Studies" gathering.
Having committed many of my poems to memory, I just quickly jotted down four or five particular favorites, and when it was my time to speak, impertinently stepped right up to the platform, adjusted the microphone, and recited my horrible poetry to a group of...I'm not sure if "feminists" is quite the word for which I am searching. Let's just say that if Gloria Steinem or Gertrude Stein had been in the audience, I might have been yanked off the podium. So there I was, babbling about, having basically crashed this Feminist rally. That I wasn't mauled or had my eyes scratched out can only be attributed to luck, progressive-thinking, guardian Angels or plain ol' polite courtesy. In retrospect, I blanch at the thought of my shameless, unabashed audacity.
I would love to know whether any more males ever took part in anymore of their events, but I guess I'll never know and can only hope that little bit of history I made that night remains intact. True story.
He was getting old- but he wasn’t cold
He still had that fire burning deep within
And the urge to commit that adulteress sin.
A sub conscious thought to prove that he
Was still the man from many years ago
Because on his face it didn’t show.
When comments are made about
How good he looks for his age
That’s when he’ll climb on stage.
The ego is the downfall of every man
And to prove himself, he’ll take a stand.
How foolish can we men be
And it’s shown throughout history.
Men will always fall under a woman s spell
From that point on, he goes to hell.
Cleopatra queen of the Nile- Sampson and Delilah
Helen of troy-just to name a few
Took down these men, and knew exactly what to do.
When it comes to women “ we are weak”
The sexual fulfillment is what we seek.
Once the sexual desire is satisfied
The man will try to say good-bye.
But he’ll be pulled back into that web of sin
And on the women s face- there is a grin.
It started off when Eve ate the forbidden fruit
And convinced Adam to eat it too.
It has gone on till this present day
What else can I say.
Now these celebrities are in the news
It is not something that they would choose.
Men are building their own web
And when the spider comes “ they are dead”.
Ha-ha- ha- you’ve got to love it!
Women over fifty
need to have a mammogram yearly,
It is an important test
that involves squeezing a woman's breast.
It is for cancer screening
but leaves some women really screaming,
Place your breast on machine which
clamps down on it like a fish sandwich.
Then it's tender to the touch
not many women like this too much,
I do believe it's a man
who invented this type of torture plan.
Why don't they screen men this way
put their member on this thing I say,
Then prostate cancer will flee
I'm just laughing at this imagery!
This poem is so serious,
that the content of it is mysterious,
Government claimed it as classified,
Did they lied?
I tried to make it public,
for everyone to see,
but two women came,
they started threatening me,
They also said that I'm endangering your life,
that I'm even endangering my wife,
which I don't have, as I was never married.
who am I to say,
something against them.
That they are wrong.
Those women seemed freakisly strong.
And in a bad mood.
So I'm sorry,
but don't worry,
Not even a goon
Won't stop me,
to write a new song soon.
They say this is a man's world
but women have the upper hand,
we solve the mysteries of the universe
but it's women we can't understand.
A female walks by in a mini skirt
and immediately we are lost,
and when it comes to buying clothes
it's the man who counts the cost.
If a man takes his clothes off in public
it's certain an arrest will ensue,
but if a young lady does the same thing
she will instantly start a queue.
If a man should catch a bad cold
an ambulance is on it's way,
but if a woman catches the flu
she carries on with her normal day.
The day that men become pregnant
is the day we will understand,
that man can only rule this world
if women are in command.
I WOKE UP THIS MORNING, LOOK ACROSS MY BED.
THERE WAS THIS BIG OLD WOMEN,LYING THERE IN MY BED.
SHE PUT HER ARMS AROUND ME,GAVE ME A HUG.
I FELT LIKE I WAS BEING SQUASHED LIKE A BUG.
I WENT OUT ON THE TOWN,DID ME SOME DRINKING.
I BROUGHT HER HOME,NOW WHAT WAS I THINKING?
I DONT KNOW WHAT I DONE,OR WHAT I SAID
TO HAVE THIS BIG OLD WOMEN HERE LYING IN MY BED.
LORD,LORD HAVE MERCY ON ME.
STOP MY DRINKING,SET ME FREE.
IF I DONT STOP MY DRINKING,
THIS BIG OLD WOMEN IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME
I try to be the best wife and mom
Yet my patience is running thin
There are bills to pay and screaming mouths to feed….
Oh, Where do I begin?
Just too many duties
In the course of a day
And did I forget to mention
My earnings... “NO PAY”
Laundry, shopping, cooking and dishes
I have no time-
To even scratch where I’m itching
“Can I have a dollar please?”
“Mommy I have a terrible wheeze!”
“Mommy she called me a “Name”
“Mommy can we play a game?”
The dog keeps messing on the floor
My kids are always crying poor
Or something on their body’s sore
I want to run right out the door!
Homework, cupcakes.. due tomorrow!
"I have a date..The car can I borrow?"
Answering the door and phone all day long
Confined to a punished for doing nothing wrong”
I can’t find a soul to take out the trash
Off to the doctors for my daughter’s butt rash
I wipe up a drink. I mop up the floor
Only to find that my daughter spilled more
Entertaining a birthday party sleepover
Picking up the guest like i'm a chauffer
I have to scrub the toilet and sink
I only have time for one eye to blink
I finally get home to rest on the sofa
In hopes to catch a glimpse of some Oprah
Instead I'm entertained by Spongebob again
Rehearsing the lines inside of my head
Nick Nite and MTV,
Is just about killing me
Between Rap Music and big bootie shaking,
I pray that my sight and hearing is taken
Where is the time for me to be “ME?”
To sit in quiet at my own TV
Or take a hot bath, even read a good book
These things are so much overlooked
Well I have to go
Someones calling my name
“MOMMMMY” …The underpaid dame
(Can you relate)
I pack rhymes and squeeze lines like I got a big de-luggage
I eat burgers and beg them elders like I’m some piece of de-garbage
I eat snacks with de-sanguages and flow lyrics with de-language
I eat de-lays while chasing chickens like women need to be de-laid
I de-lay verses when writing poems like I’m so de-educated
I de-language metaphors like Saddam Hussein being decapitated
I de-compose verses & sooth poetic souls like criminals renouncing de-fraud
I consult with presidents and confuse deputies like I’m some de-vice
I complete de-forms and design signatures like Bill Gates on debates
I trail de-tails like polices dogs sniffing cracks of different de-scents
I de-fuse nuclear bombs & threaten twin towers like September de-eleven
I’m precise when closing arguments like women screaming de-fine
I deviate from impurities like preachers praising the Lord’s good news
I flow sicker than poets when writing poems like drug disorders
I de-frost tension when aggressively speaking like a deep freeze on degrees
Ezra was a wise old bird and he knew very well of what he spoke,
But his words to the scattered nation almost caused the men to choke.
God is mad at all of us and we need to get ourselves back in his good graces,
But He can see too many foreigners and he wants our girls in their places.
So boys if you ever hope to go back home sometime in your lives,
You’re going to have to do what I say and get rid of your shiksa wives.
When the Lord can look down and see that to nice Jewish girls you’re wed,
He’ll send us home to live again as long as we stay Kosher in the bed.
Ezra - Chapter 10
10:1Now while Ezra prayed and made confession, weeping and casting himself down before the house of God, there was gathered together to him out of Israel a very great assembly of men and women and children; for the people wept very sore. 10:2Shecaniah the son of Jehiel, one of the sons of Elam, answered Ezra, We have trespassed against our God, and have married foreign women of the peoples of the land: yet now there is hope for Israel concerning this thing. 10:3Now therefore let us make a covenant with our God to put away all the wives, and such as are born of them, according to the counsel of my lord, and of those who tremble at the commandment of our God; and let it be done according to the law. 10:4Arise; for the matter belongs to you, and we are with you: be of good courage, and do it. 10:5Then arose Ezra, and made the chiefs of the priests, the Levites, and all Israel, to swear that they would do according to this word. So they swore.
Why is God a Man?
Being a menopausal woman really sucks. At night, it’s like having a wrestler in bed with you
without the sex. When you flash you wrestle the covers off because you feel like you’re going
to spontaneously combust. When the flash is over you wrestle them back on since you’ve
gone from sweating profusely to the ice queen. And what is sleep? I used to remember,
but it’s been so long that I’m going back to school to re-learn how.
And why the heck do they call it menopause? It has nothing to do with men. Oh sure, men
have to put up with we suicidal women when we’re going through this so called “natural
progression of aging” but, during this time it’s the men who pause and say, ” My wife has lost
her mind. She's frantically running around the house begging me to throw ice water on her
before she bursts into flames.”
After all, During menopause, everything dries up (and I mean that literally). It’s like
someone took a wet vac and sucked all the moisture out of our skin, hair and other
unmentionable places. And as far as sex is concerned, KY Jelly becomes your best friend, for
without it there’s just no getting in. And what is a sex drive? We wish we could remember,
but our minds are drying up too. Oh, I remember now. It’s all about the drive. That is,
driving to the mall to go shopping. Now that’s a turn on. After all, who wants to have sex with
a dried up woman’s body whose parts have all gone south? I guess that explains why we’re
hot all the time. When our parts go south our body gets hotter. It’s like your body’s in Florida
without living there. We do take small trips up north when the flashes subside, but
unfortunately our body parts don’t.
We try to workout, but someone needs to come up with a workout with minimal effort as the
slightest movement causes us to pee ourselves. So if you want to make the most of your
workout, go buy Depends. You still pee, but they keep you dry along with your skin and hair.
Oh, and did I mention the bouts of uncontrollable crying? Your husband asks you why you’re
crying and you tell him it’s all his fault because he’s going about his merry way while you’re
slowly going insane. They can't empathize when they have no freaking idea what’s going
So I’ve come to the conclusion that all women who make it through menopause have earned
their place in heaven because they’ve already lived through hell on earth. To all my
menopausal women friends out there. . . .
THIS IS WHY GOD IS A MAN!
From my perspective, a 27 year old male,
A woman's true beauty never sets sail.
The stereotype is women should date older men,
and we should date the younger hen.
Cougars think this should change.
I like it, to me it doesn't sound strange.
Some women just know what they want.
And some nights they go on the prowl and hunt.
Just as any animal out there lurking, their behavior can be risky.
Just as all other animals, sometimes you just want to get frisky.
Most younger men like this, but they say it all depends.
This means they like it, as long as they aren't seen leaving by his friends.
So mostly I don't have a problem with the cougar effect,
but there is one part of it that I do reject.
Its the part where I tell my friends I'm getting my gun,
because they tell me all the time, that my mom is one.
***By Chris Matt for Dr. Ram Mehta's contest “The Cougar Effect."
As I stood out on my doorstep,
these figures caught my eye,
two women on opposite sides of street from each other,
but it look like they were walking side by side.
On the far side was a younger women,
maybe in her late teens,
On the near side was the older one,
i'd say mid to late 50's.
I don't know why but I stood there and watched,
as they both walk on by,
Just looking at the differences between them both,
imagining life through there eyes.
The younger women stood tall and proud,
as she causally strolled on by,
With her slender body and really good looks,
she tuned at me and smiled.
The older women walk with her head to the ground,
at a fast pace it looked like she walked.
With a plump round body, and bright red face,
she never even gave me a look.
Now if the roles were reversed,
would it be the same,
one walk proud
and the other in shame.
Or is there another factor here,
that only one perceives,
the old are wise,
and is the young are just naive.
After all the streets they walk,
aren't the safest place to be,
not in this town anyway,
labeled one of the worst in the country.....
M.Mahauariki © 2012
Men say women are brainless
women say men don't use the brain they have
men say women love cats
women say men always run for bats
men say women act like total blones
women say men are jealous because they ain't blonde
men say women take a long time to decide on things
women say men don't have a clue
men say women are just pains
women say men don't know what pain is.
I cant figure out why women are such a puzzeling sex to men.
I think its like the three letter word, we say when, and you say how long
has it been?
I especially love it when they say " oh I'm not high maintenance" and
I need to get this and that done as we scratch our heads and say is it me
or is she the only one.
When we go out we pick any old thing we have on hand, and women say
"Oh I have to get something new" and it probably cost more than our wedding
We guys go and spend ten bucks on a haircut and a shave, but when you go its
an all day affair and cost so much I have to ask for a raise.
So men we are left to ponder and sworn to never concede,
but I find its easier not to argue and just give them what they need.
Wine, women and song-
both over- and understated.
Nonsense to the uninitiated.
This is how my daydream began:
gyrating on stage with long hair
like and adolescent shaman-
visions of a young Jim Morrison.
Wine, women and song-
punk, funk, southern boogie drunk
battle ax guitars, pounding drums
blacken and brutal beer soaked bars.
This is the dream come true:
an insidious reality
that suddenly struck rude.
Nonsense to the uninitiated.
Now, it is still the wine
women and song that I long for.
both over-and understated.
The women of the sea:
Gentle vaginal giants
Rowing, rowing, rowing.
Then a fruit cup, a spray down,
And back into the Wild Blue!
Make room for more!
All you need, really,
Is a rope tied to a jug
To catch you some women of the sea.
Na Wahine O Ke Kai:
A hug would collapse a lung.
My goodness but its hot
I'm wringing wet.
"Women perspire," he said,
"only men sweat."
Well, guess again buddy
maybe la-de-dah ladies perspire,
but Real Women sweat
and right now I'm on fire.
In high school my mother
would take me to the beauty parlor
to get me a fancy dance doo
and then later I'd hollar
Because after a dance or two,
my hair would be dripping wet.
I was so embarrassed
all covered with sweat.
Air conditioning is just too cold
and it smells funny,
so I sit in front of a fan
when it gets too sunny.
But running out for chores
in 90-degree heat
is no fun at all
I just come home beat.
So you'all have a good summer ...
and I still say it yet ...
that ladies may perspire,
but Real Women sweat.
I do not know?
Not long ago,I went with a couple of married
friends of both,so human genders,
To another man's house,peopled full,both
persuasions together,real sentence-enders.
When we arrived,my friends were greeted with,
what I would term, mixed cheers,jeering applause;
But,the manner I was welcomed within
had me searching faces for an escape clause.
Our host spoke,very careful ways,laughingly
set me 'mongst company of women there;
Though,intelligence is undoubted,he did not
see,I'm a snake,curled in circle's square.
While he was busy wasting everyone's
attention with tales,giggling,"do her,do her.",
I was happy to bide my time in absolute
silence, measured to avoid a stir.
With his great wit,he kept conversation
fixated on fictional preferances;
Amusing all with abilities to question
This truly self-made man must be admired
for his insistance,inheriting his lot,
Be amazed at such an individual male,
ev'ry frustration met's eas'ly bought.
He's more than happy enough to spend his
life observing life through his office window;
But,he'd best ignore my features,for I'm
smirking,my manhood is not for him to show.
The overwhelming pleasure I tend to take
in women is like an old,well-worn coat;
While his lot seems an ever-worsening worry,
he had better buy a bigger boat.
I'm happy to contemplate self-knowledge,
while writing's a growing content,though lonely;
But,his own is to wonder if identity is for
Women, please listen to what I have to say!
Unfortunately, so many men were misjudged.
Listen to the things and then please decide
As to whether or not we deserve your love.
We were taught the ways of being strong,
Importance of standing up for our rights
But, now as men, those traits live on
And you women just say we enjoy fights.
In fact, if given a choice in the matter
Most men would choose to walk away
We enjoy our friendship with all the guys
And may want to hang out with them one day.
We were taught not to talk when taking a pee.
Never, oh never , to look around!
We would be labeled, oh yes, for the rest of our days
So, we just keep our eyes affixed to the ground.
Many were taught to hold open the doors
When women were walking on through.
Because of Steinham and the bra burning days
Some chivalry was lost unto you.
Though some are romantic and others are not.
It doesn’t mean love can’t be found.
Just open your eyes and open your hearts.
Know their love, still has no bounds.
You see, many today, all men just the same
Seek the love that you can provide
Yes, we love your scent and arousal is easy
However, we just want to be by your side.
Any way to be near, is the way to be had,
And recognize the fact that we’re there.
For many just like the smell of perfume
As others, they like to twirl hair.
I, speaking for them, can’t tell you everything
For there is an unwritten law.
Just remember each time you judge one of us
That women, too, have their flaws.
I do not know?
(This is a fictional poem)
I've watched every episode of the Golden Girls.
Those old broads really rock my world.
When I watch them, I get hot and sweaty.
I want to have oral sex with Estelle Getty.
I like Blanche, Rose and Dorothy too.
Those are four ladies who I really want to do.
A friend asked me to date women my old age but I will not.
I like women with gray hair, wrinkles, false teeth and liver spots.
Old broads are the only women who I date.
The Golden Girls is coming on so I'm going to masturbate.
You are the female whose perfectly stacked
You should wear a sign that reads MAY CAUSE HEART ATTACKS
Pay no mind to what other women say
Women have their men neutered, keeping them at bey
You never fall for those smooth pick up lines
You would be in prison, if a smokin' body was a crime
Your last name is Parker, with a circle not so vicious
You get the highest rating of bootylicious
I am Sherlock Holmes, so give me a clue
A hint of how I can get next to you
If a genie granted me three wishes
I only want one, I want to experience bootylicious
Just the look from your eyes put men at your beckon call
Every room should be filled with bootylicious from wall to wall
If they could design a computer using you, there would be no glitches
You would be the mainframe, the nerve center of bootylicious
Bootylicious is in all women out there
Go on men, check them out, take a long stare
The walk, the talk, the strut and the look
Your story is all true, a non-fiction book
As you men stand at the kitchen sink while washing the dishes
Look out the window, you'll spot bootylicious
I do not know?
(This is a fictional poem)
I have the IQ of Kelly Bundy and the looks of her brother Bud.
When women and I go in the bedroom, they always call me a dud.
I'm such a lousy lover that I make Mickey Rooney look like Fabio.
When I ask the ladies if I can see them again, they tell me where I can go.
I've come to realize that I am not a stud.
My name is Randy but to women my name is mud.
I do not know?
(This is a fictional poem)
Every woman changes after we go on a date.
They become lesbians when they were previously straight.
I'm not popular with women because good looks is what I lack.
I'm getting tired of looking at mirrors because they always crack.
One woman screamed and lost bladder control when I kissed her.
Maybe the reason why I'm so ugly is because my parents are brother and sister.
I only go on blind dates and women never like what they see.
They find it more appealing to date each other than to date me.
Why his old head is so hollow you can see him think.
Onlyest time he ever makes any sense is when he takes to the drink.
And that don’t last too long caustit puts him right to sleep,
Kinda like me whenst I go to count’n them sheep.
Well old Booger never claimed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer,
Shoot he just now figgered out where he’s possed to sit when drivin de car.
He’s been want’n to get hitched but there ain’t no single kinfolk around,
And besides they gots to be some of the ugliest women I’ve found.
Well me and ole Boog went in to town, just kinda piddlin I guess,
When out front Langtry’s hardware stood this ole gal, and I think somebody
done shortchanged her on that dress.
Why old Booger said that wuz the pertiest thing he ever did saw.
Said he wuz gonna marry up with her and take her home to meet pa and maw.
Well old Booger started to put the move on this sweet little ole thing.
He asked her right there on the spot, said I’ll even buy you one of those
Well she turned him down and it made poor ole Booger cry.
She told him she wuz a transvestite that wuz the reason why.
Well poor ole Booger wuz kinda like me
He didn’t know she wuz a he well this( he-she) fooled him and me.
Well we headed on back cause our luck done went sour.
And besides it wuz getting onwards of the drinkin hour.
Should you ever find your way back here in these hills.
Bring your on jug and have it filled at one of our local stills.
Shine down here the best you’ll ever find.
Just be careful of the women some of em are the funny kind.
I do not know?
(This is a fictional poem)
I regretted trying to pick up a woman who was drinking coffee.
I used a line on her and she threw it at me.
It went in my face and on my shirt.
It was scalding hot and it really did hurt.
I made certain that the next lady I tried to pick up didn't have any coffee to throw in
She didn't have coffee but she did have mace.
The next lady I tried to pick up turned out to be married.
I couldn't walk after her husband broke my legs so I had to be carried.
Trying to pick up women is something that I've come to regret.
Now I talk to women online because they can't throw coffee on the internet.
I've worked hard to have my franchise
I am surrounded by bleach blondes with green eyes
I was no homecoming king, I received no coronation
Please take a stab at my certification
I don't study the existence of life
I am a working man, no time for a wife
My certification is not a Biologist
No study of the mind, I am not a Psychologist
I've gone to the school of hard knocks
My business covers many city blocks
Every night is a celebration
I have yet to tell you my certification
I don't like Dinosaurs, I am not a Paeleontologist
I can't put anyone in a trance, I am no Hypnotist
My education is from up and down the streets
I am not on doughnut patrol, I don't walk a beat
I am definitely not into Claymation
Are you still in suspense about my certification?
I am no womanizer looking for a tryst
You can scratch an actor off your list
I am no Polar Bear coming out of hibernation
Soon I will reveal my certification
I am not into sports, I am no Analyst
My work is tax free, I don't have to deal with the I.R.S
I have no fruit baskets on a sofa, I am not a Psychiatrist
I will now tell you, I am a Pimpologist
Now that you know, keep in mind how much dough I make
No cheap wine, no pot pies, just champagne, shrimp and steak
Constant growth, all women are welcome to become part of an industry leader
Most of my women come from men who are wife beaters
I hook my women up with my patented 201k plan
I am the CEO, I am the man
5-2-9 can give you my specifications
5-2-9 helped me achieve my certification
I do not know?
(This is a fictional poem)
I'm a twenty-five year old man and I've been told that I'm weird.
People say I've become a nut just like they feared.
They were shocked because it's ridiculous and silly.
I get an erection when I see Granny on the Beverly Hillbillies.
Pamela Anderson called me and asked me out but I refused to meet her.
Sexy women like her give me a limp peter.
Old broads are the only women who arouse me.
I choke my chicken every time I watch Aunt Bee.
My friends ask me if I'm going to take a wife.
I tell them that I'd love to marry that old fat lady on the facts of life.
Last week I mailed a letter to the publisher of Playboy.
I told Hefner that he should make a new magazine and call it Grayboy.
I do not know?
(This poem is partially true)
My friend put a radiator hose in his pants and people thought he was well-
He seemed to grow over night and women wondered how.
He appeared to have a very big johnson and this was what many women
But the ladies raised hell when they learned that they were being deceived.
He had women chasing him because they wanted to get him in the sack.
But a man came and told my friend that he wanted his radiator hose back.
When he pulled it out of his pants, the ladies attacked him.
They were really pissed because he didn't have what attracted them.
In reality his penis was only two inches long.
After they beat the crap out of him, they cut off his tiny schlong.
One of his attackers said he deserved what he got and most of the women agree.
Now my friend has to sit on the toilet when he pees.