Best House Of Ill Repute Poems
At center of soul,
Lien my wealth of gold,
In the bible,
You’re very well liable,
To see gold,
In centerfold,
Of soul,
Not in centerfold ,
Of playboy, so bold,
Not in scorn of ****, magazine,
The mind thinks so keen,
Not in your house of ill repute,
Like a flute’s toot,
But in your center,
Is Godly splendor,
She is the real contender,
For men’s souls,
She holds the gold, of souls,
She is your centerfold,
She is your well, and you can tell,
When she begins to swell,
Infinity’s well,
She begins to spin,
And begins to gin,
The gold of soul’s,
Centerfold,
A vortex of power,
Men will declare,
How can this be,
Mein eyes can’t see,
This within me,
So they return to be,
Of mind’s vanity,
As death’s reverse swirl,
Returns them to the world,
Like a natural woman in earth,
Her wealth is her girth,
Not of this earth,
A birth from above,
She is love,
Receive,
Believe,
Within your relieve,
She is your power,
By which you build your tower,
By the hour,
In earth,
Love is her girth,
Not of this earth,
So let her love give birth,
In earth,
Particles of pure light,
Your lady is a holy sight,
Not a cat's fight,
In repute’s night,
She is your mold,
For your life’s unfold,
Unfold, your gold,
Let the outer unfold,
Be the center mold,
Of the Godly Gold!!
7-17-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Categories:
house of ill repute, allegory, love
Form:
Rhyme
I strolled through the local cemetery the other day
And here are some epitaphs I observed along the way:
Cletus O'Toole lies herein
Too much boozing done him in!
Here lies a gambler molding in his crypt
Odds are he was shot by a chump he had gyped!
His spouse spotted him leaving a house of ill repute
In short order she done him in during a heated dispute!
Clyde raced down the mountain and failed to swerve
Meeting his doom on an S-shaped curve!
His plea to the judge was ruled to be moot
He was sentenced to hang for fencing some loot!
Buckaroo Bob was throwed from his horse
And was buried with his boots on as a matter of course!
The town ruffian was our late friend Keith
He met his match and was interred sans his teeth!
Pilot Pete's final radio message was, "Oh! Shoot!"
Seems he forgot to don his parachute!
Farrier Fred was a premier cobbler as a general rule
Alas, he was kicked in the head by an unruly mule!
Butcher Bruce was expert at wielding his knife
But in a fatal spat he was out-wielded by his wife!
POTD 24 June 2021
Categories:
house of ill repute, death, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Homeless, destitute with nothing more then a backpack and cigarettes
down the rabbit hole she went, no linen tablecloths just stricken wood,
in a house of ill repute;.
She could not refuse the hunkering of a horny man who lived by threats
so she counted her bills and tucked them in her brassiere with a tear
She cringed when glass smashed and grinded her teeth when she was cold
it was a bordello made surreal by alcohol mellowed Johns who were so old
A bawdy crib, (bagnio del innocente) bath for the innocent...
a knocking shop that foiled the linen and gave shiners to young girls,
no one cared
in this disorderly place, where the stew was watered down with whiskey float
Then came the raid that brought everything to a halt,
in a gestalt moment she found freedom, perhaps her prayers were answered?
Down to the river she went for a bath and a rest,
it was then that she remembered her first time, it was incest *
The wild caged bird had no other place to hide but in this fortress
she slept for days on the grass beside a great big boulder, ,
all the wild animals in the forest thought she was a Princess.
They let her sleep, and fed her pine nuts from the trees. Until this day,
Gianna never mentioned the brothel to anyone, no even herself.
Feb. 20, 2021
Categories:
house of ill repute, innocence, loss,
Form:
Free verse
ILL REPUTE
It was a house of ill repute
And though the occupants were cute
(Or so I gather second-hand,
I haven’t visited, you understand)
The local residents agreed
That, though such places served a need,
They really didn’t think it should
Be sanctioned in their neighbourhood.
Theirs was a clean, God-fearing town
And this would drive house prices down.
That really wouldn’t do at all
And so they marched on the town hall.
But that all ended in despair
(The Mayor was a client there)
But, in the end, they won the day;
Corona virus came their way.
And to the joy of all the town,
They had to close the brothel down.
They could no longer ply their art
With everyone six feet apart.
19th February 2021
They Closed The Brothel contest
Sponsor - Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
house of ill repute, humorous, lust, sin,
Form:
Rhyme
On a dark gloomy street at the very end
across the river close to where the road takes a bend,
there's an old tattered mansion whose splendor was glorious in days of old.
It is said to have been a house of ill repute.
And in the foundation is much hidden gold.
Many a young girl entered that house never to be seen again.
And all the while the secret of the foundation challenged every man.
Year after year it was always said
that all who lived in that house were truly dead!
Some night when you feel a chill run up your spine.
Go to the end of that dark gloomy street
and creep up that hill,
go on that spooky porch, open that creaky door
and see who you'll meet.
Look all around that darkened room
and find the casket that you're laying in.
Then let the foundation of this old haunted house win!!
By Marty Owens
For A Creepy, Scary Haunted House contest
By Constance -My Dear Heart-
Categories:
house of ill repute, adventure, angst, death, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
He rode in to Santa Fe one summer day on a broken-down, sweaty nag.
All he owned was the clothes on his back and the Bible in his saddle bag.
He wore a suit of black, an old slouch hat, both so dusty and frayed.
He was an itinerant preacher man by the name of Jeremiah Slade.
Beneath his well-worn duds he wore a brace of pistols on his hips,
With the 'sinners' in towns he occasionally enjoyed a couple-a nips!
His District Superintendent took a very dim view of his associations,
Warnin' that it might lead him into very injudicious temptations!
He dismounted, hitched his hoss and brushed the dust from his suit,
And strolled to Clancy's Saloon, well-known as a house of ill-repute!
He sauntered up to the bar and pointed to a jug of whiskey on the shelf,
Sayin', "Bartend, hand me that bottle. I'll pour three-fingers fer myself!"
He leaned with his back to the bar surveyin' the riotous scene before him.
The debauchery he viewed indicated reapin' souls looked mighty grim,
But he drawed his guns and hammered the butts on the bar fer attention!
"By Gawd!" he thundered, "I intend to clean up this place is my intention!"
With that the dancin', brawlin' and gamblin' came to an abrupt cease!
"Now, I want y'all to find Jesus and give each other the kiss of peace!"
Forty-two souls searched and found Him that day in Clancy's Saloon!
He praised the Lord, sayin', "That's a purty good haul and it ain't even noon!"
The new saints were shoutin' "Hallelujah!" and he roared, "Now hold on there!
I remind y'all I don't preach fer nothin' and if'n y'all would care to share,
I'll pass the hat and as Jesus said, ''Tis better to give than to receive!"
He gave some to the bartend, sayin' "Set 'em up!" With that he took his leave!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories:
house of ill repute, humorous, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
One night, this fellow named Newt
Decided to visit a prostitute
But she stole all his cash
and gave him a rash
Then his wife gave him the boot
It was the worst morning after for Newt
after he went to that house of ill repute
When he pissed it did burn
A hard lesson learned
Of that there is no dispute
Categories:
house of ill repute, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Doc Holliday truly amazing
Sick to death and two six guns blazing
Though his blasting appeared not to be phasing
The calmness of his gelding equine’s grazing
This be the glory, how the west was won
By house of ill repute, and the six gun
Plenty of action, was never boring
Funeral parlors, were businesses soaring
Stank of many bodies in pine boxes
All human life was generalized poxy
In the west, principle way of the law
Generally how fast every man could draw
These early days were quite chaotic
Wyatt Earp’s moves were a bit methodic
The saloons were filled with poker tables
And many big bosoms of dance hall mabels
Indians drank of white man’s fire waters
Sheep herders were known as only free squatters
The winning of the west, was quite a quest
Reservations put Indians to the test
America has it’s many stories
How our west was won by many glories
So greatly was the west romanticized
We wonder how much was only lies
Well documentation of westward truths
Or documentation of many human spoofs
Maybe fraudulent claims, as was the hog leg’s aim
We accept no blame, but we’ll take the fame
Placed # 15
Categories:
house of ill repute, fantasy
Form:
Rhyme
The Failure
When I was bored with sea life
and walked ashore in Santiago
I could find no work except in house of ill repute
throwing out the rebellious and for some reason
became a father confessor to the women, not a good start
No one wanted a book- learned man who had read Nietzsche
so when the money was gone it was back to sea.
any ship would do as long as I was paid so I could leave and
try my luck. I got a job on a Liberia type ship that looks as
it was ready to sink – it did after I left- for some reason
the ship was going to Norway it is a mystery we got there.
After years of self-disgust, I had a heart attack and the state
gave me a sick benefit which was not enough to live on
in Norway so I want to Portugal and stayed, there deep in
the interior and spent my time walking or writing
alternative poetry with little success, which disappointed me
that not being knows, until I realized it didn`t matter
I had found my Shangri La and that in the end is my goal in life.
Categories:
house of ill repute, character, chocolate, cinderella, color,
Form:
Blank verse
Waterway
When I saw the river it was not new to me I had often
seen it my dreams, its brownish water steadily seeking the ocean
and unquestionable becoming inconsequent.
It was obeying the law of the nature and not asking why it
could not run the other way back to white water of innocence.
I’m a rusty leaf in this water being dragged downstream trying
to hide under the long grass of the embankment trying to learn
once more that sex is not love, I nod in deference but I do not
understand why coitus should be wrong even if it is the wrong
Time, wrong woman in a house of ill repute. I say; let me do my
Mistakes again and learn nothing of interest.
Categories:
house of ill repute, absence, abuse, adventure, africa,
Form:
Ballad
When a Bordello was fun
I sit down with the best intention to write about flowers
and love which made me think the whore houses tend to have
plastic flowers and that is apt as it is
not a place for romance red roses and chrysanthemums
I have had much fun at house of ill repute not only the sex
but also dancing the laughter and the girls liked a young
sailors and the possibility of warmer feelings.
I know of seamen who married former prostitutes and their
marriages have normally been a happy one.
Time has changed women victims now of men’s sexual demands
And it has been outlawed in many countries.
Just as well now girls are called sex workers like hire home help
cold cash on the table the price depending on the position like
asking the home help to weed the garden, well you have to pay
extra or that
Categories:
house of ill repute, anger, anxiety, aubade, film,
Form:
Sonnet
Something New
I would like to buy a brand new shirt
So I can attract that silly mini-skirt
I’m tired of being a funny flakey flirt
Even knowing I’m an all-out introvert
I would like to buy brand new shoes
With rolled up sleeves and new tattoos
But Social media, the newest schmooze
Hash tagging with a bunch of yahoos
I would like to buy a brand new suit
To look presentably proper and astute
Digital images deceiving don’t compute
Drawn to enter a new house of ill repute
I would like to buy a brand new classy car
Driving around town smoking a new cigar
Driving top speed not getting much too far
Then again it may be time for a new Bar
I would like to buy a brand new Super Soul
The one I ware may have a new holy hole
Being careful not to end up in the South Pole
As I sit here sipping from my new Soup Bowl.
Oct.11.2018
Trying Something New
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
N/A for contest
Categories:
house of ill repute, courage, dedication, motivation,
Form:
Rhyme
You got your blue slip on Zezes that Zeses ala ala BEll
Play music right boys you nasty boys Play the music
right boys you nasty boys Zezes has her blue slip on
in the white house of ill repute don't rebuke luke
and all the gentlemen, give me la la bell Zezes give
me la la lay lay al Bell the Libery Bell of Lady Liberty
you nasty gentlemen, you nasty gentlemen, give
me la la la Bell zezes got her blue slip on la la lay
lay al Liberty this isn't louisahanna purchase. you
nasty gentlemen
Categories:
house of ill repute, political, song-blue, blue,
Form:
Ballad
(for Scarlets of the world)
Scarlet was born in a house of ill repute.
She learnt early how to use lipsticks, and
Dreams never visited her.
Enslaved by carnivorous nights,
Her heart feared to fly, but
Accompanied her to the church.
One gloomy Sunday, she confessed -
Father, forgive me for I've sinned.
And she had a dream.
She was in heaven, standing in a crowd,
Who kept looking up.
'Even here, people keep looking up',
She thought, and asked
A woman standing next to her -
What are you looking for?
A white smoke - replied the woman.
Scarlet later found out;
'God is only a chimney', and she
Woke up beside a drunk.
Categories:
house of ill repute, anniversary, anti bullying, anxiety,
Form:
Free verse
In New Orleans for some highjinks.
Here to rally ‘round the flag.
She’ll be open to suggestion
When I’ve got her bound and gagged.
I won’t need to solve the riddle
Of the chicken or the egg
To distinguish first from foremost
While I’m making Mandy beg.
You can bet your bottom dollar
Gonna taste forbidden fruit
On a fragrant bed of roses
In this house of ill repute.
Hog the limelight. Gild the lily.
Need to take her down a peg,
Teach her all the whys and wherefores
As I’m making Mandy beg.
There be rotten things in Denmark:
Humble pie and bathtub gin,
Sour grapes with gall & wormwood,
Magdalena’s Den of Sin.
Gonna need a pot to piss in.
Go and tap another keg.
She’ll be forced to face the music
When I’m making Mandy beg.
There’ll be ample food for thought
When I talk turkey with the cook.
I’ll be tickling her fancy
Till she babbles like a brook.
Then I’ll call her on the carpet
As the juice runs down her leg.
Demon rum, Miss Goodie Two-shoes,
I’m just making Mandy beg.
Categories:
house of ill repute, fantasy, gothic, satire,
Form:
Lyric