When business went
from bad to worse
and the Nookie Bookie
(a pimp)
with a curse
saw the number of customers'
trousers drop
he took umbrage
at an advertisement in the press
inserted by the local knocking shop
(where pleasure is a business)
which was seen to say...
RED LIGHT SPECIAL
Too many hookers spoil the brothel
Gentlemen
today's the day you're in luck
2 for the price of 1
more BANG for your buck!
PURPLE
Purple my soft moss seat in paradise
amethyst crown purple so wise
High Priestess purpled silken silent and bold
has no need to compete with cool
Countess whose court is neat
but oh so cold !
What a sweet treat to see
ripe ripple granadilla purpled fall from tree
she made an indigo way from leafy branch
to loamy Earth to juicy kiss my feet
landing on delicate fairy roots with a scarlet beat
Purple irises erect rows in park holler
such powerful maidens compete not for dollars chased by bookie rookie scholars who fail
to see abundance in nature’s holy colour
divinely composed with innocent hues of valour
How humans sniffle and snuffle when they
seek lilac happiness in ludicrous money
all they need do is close their eyes to
visualise dining on purple aubergine,
mauve butter bean laced with dripping honey
in violet chameleon coves hosting bunnies
watching a shimmering sunset
holy purple burble !
there was a bookie named Jennings
who had to pay the mob his winnings
one day it was said
he kept them instead
and was later found floating in the Hudson
Our sizzling temperatures
like the month of August
on our skyline above the clouds
Swimming with the pigs
dolphins, sharks and stingrays
in our crystal seas
Sunday strolls
on our gorgeous sand banks
and surprising boiling holes
Extravagant boat cruises
to Rose Island
and Blue Lagoon Island
Shaking up to Rake and Scrape
and Goombay music
in our streets
Feeding the taste
of Goombay Punch
and Sky Juice
on our tongues
The sensation
of tropical conch salad
and coconut tarts
filling up our guts
Listening to folk tales
from Bookie and Rabbie
eating flour cakes
and ring playing
on our Out Island playgrounds
A suitcase was left on my porch that was full of body parts.
When I learned whose body it was, it really broke my heart.
I burst into tears when I learned that it was my son.
I hunted the killer down and shot him with my gun.
My son was in trouble with a bookie because he owed him a lot of cash.
It took over two weeks to track him down and I killed that piece of trash.
That bookie begged for his life as I pointed my pistol at his head.
I pulled the trigger and it felt so damn good because he was dead.
But I became a killer and I learned that I was just as bad as that bookie was.
I learned that a man can become a monster because of the things he does.
After I became a monster, you don't want to know how it made me feel.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw the face of a man who decided to kill.
I couldn't live with myself so I decided to call the police and turn myself in.
I will spend the rest of my life in prison, I will never see the light of day again.
If Death in time should somehow find
I'm running just a little late.
I just realized to my great surprise...
I have an expiration date.
I pace the floor with Death at my door
With no out that I can see.
But I've thought it through, I have things to do
Before I embrace immortality.
With one last breath, I entreat with Death
If I might linger just another day.
I have family and friends... to make amends
And a bookie yet to pay.
But Death will brook no tardiness
As they seem somewhat understaffed.
So I accept this judgement
Knowing well my Government
Will have one less soul to shaft.
The End
My nympho neighbour’s Sugar Cookie
She’s well known for her love of nookie,
Now she’s up the duff
Her hubs in a huff
And spends all his time with the bookie
For my on line friend 'Sugar Cookie' who is expecting her baby in January
09/14/20
A GI looking for nookie
Met a Geisha girl called Suki
Would you believe
She could conceive
Faster than a New York bookie?
Every ten year old needs a hustle
The cattle yards the Friday shuffle
The farmer need a sandwich for lunch
Or a horse they've got a hunch
I will run to get your dinner
Or place the bet for the sinner
It makes no difference to me
I am just hustling for a tuppenny
In the back door of bookie shop
Two Shillings I did drop
Over to the copper fiddle
For the ham off the griddle
I hand Paddy his slip and meat
A sixpence on the hustlers beat
I am just a cookie
consider me your local bookie.
I can gather every bit of info
on your accounts and social intro.
I can take your picture on your camera
the one with you and grandma.
I can find my way to all your accounts
the bank, the credit cards without a doubt
I will take your identity with a password guess
let me in, just say yes.
I'm a cookie chipped with every byte
and ready for your info delight
all you have is mine,
isn't that divine?
Just open the window.
Here lies the bookie Reginald Dodds,
Trampled by a horse, what were the odds.
Entry for
An Epitaph to Make Us Laugh 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jesse Rowe.
11/4/19. Placed =1st.
‘Twas the season to be merry, and playing around,
shirker Fred was in Vegas; from work he had played hooky.
Asleep in his hotel room, he strangely dreamed about
a man that looked like a galloping gingerbread cookie.
Fred was startled awake by a knock at his door.
Yelling at him for money he owed was his bookie.
Having no cash, Fred ran from his room. Then he saw
in the hall was the galloping gingerbread cookie!
The gingerbread man – gigantic- said, “Hop on my back.
Your best Christmas gift awaits, and her name is Sookie.”
Away Fred fled to the girl of his dream’s sugar shack
on the back of the galloping gingerbread cookie.
The gingerbread man dropped him off with a wink and said,
“She’s under the mistletoe, and she’s wanting some nookie!’
Christmas cheer filled Fred’s heart till he woke for REAL this time.
No girl had there been, nor galloping gingerbread cookie.
Dec. 16, 2018 for the Christmas Cheer Poetry Contest of Kim Rodrigues
My parents were
far from preachy.
They went to church
separately and I went
to the children’s service
separately as well.
But as a family we
went to many Irish wakes
that enabled me
last New Year’s Day
to look death in the eye
when my daughter died
after a long fight to live.
I’m old enough now
to listen for the bell signaling
my own last round with death.
Hard to believe I've made it this far.
I may even lead on points
but any bookie will tell you
death by a knockout at the end.
Donal Mahoney
When you're wanting to bet
On a racehorse, don't fret.
With this tip from the stable door.
Pair Wunwun with Tutu,
A double that's for you.
It's a wager you should not ignore
Wunwun won,one race,
And Tutu too, her chase.
That has left one bookie,quite sore.
1 1 is a racehorse. 2. 2 is 1. 2
1.1. 1 1 race 2. 2 1. 1. 2.
Wunwun is a racehorse. Tutu is one too
Wunwun won one race. Tutu won one too.
11 / 2 / 2016.
Tom Thumb got caught peeping
Now his life is on the run
Little Bo Peep lost her sheep
On a gambling junket she was on
Little Miss Muffet is having to tuff it
Out these days in jail
Selling ecstasy to undercover police
And now can't pay her bail
Little Jack Horner took him a corner
Of the Mafia drug trade
Once you are hooked on the Meth that he cooks
There's no way of escape
You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet
That even comes this close
Since Mother Goose started hitting the juice
And ended up down on skid row
Humpty Dumpty's more than broke
But not from any fall
He couldn't pay his bookie
And his legs were first to go
Baa Baa Black Sheep
Where forced to sell their wool
To pay for all the damages
While they were in school
Jack pushed Jill down the hill
When he caught her cheating with Little Boy Blue
Now he's paying her doctor bills
Which has left Jack blue too
You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet
That even comes this close
Since Mother Goose started hitting the juice
And ended up down on skid row
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