Broads Poems

Leo The Lion

I'm Leo the Lion, I am, I am
From the mystical world of Astrology
I'm generous, strong and warmhearted
That's if you believe in symbology

Not making this up, check it out
Masculine, positive and extroverted
If I listen too carefully, my head will swell
Which should definitely be averted

My wife suggested widening the doorways
Or I might severely injure my brain
Methinks my honey's being a bit facetious
But I love her a bunch just the same

I'm Leo the Lion, I am, I am
Just a fun loving guy who enjoys life
They also say I'm very broad-minded
Love broads but don't tell my wife

Different

Heavily, I lay down my head.
You said this time would be different.
As blue as the evening sky, this is true.
Each bruise is in a different place.

My face faces southward to the lowest degree,
dirty from your unwashed hands.
Plans are rearranged, like my shifted skin.
You say you want to begin again.

The gin's poured anew, like wholesome juice.
Loose are your boundaries and new broads,
goddesses of lust and deceit.
You cheat yourself of what could be.

Freedom becomes my dissociative hope.
Soap never washed me clean.
I lean into an open dream,
a different time, a new paradigm.

10-9-24

Daffodils and Landfills

   O, the perfumed scent
     of lilac and daffodil
   You'll never replace the stench
     of the repulsive local landfill

   All hail to New Joisey, the Garden State
     weeds, thorns and thistles your visit await
   Yes, hail to Joisey, where the goils braid the hair
     in their nose with acid rain from polluted air 
  
   Forget your long-stemmed roses and fancy poses
     Gimme the stubby ‘toeses’ of Kardashians
   Broads who look swell ‘til they open their yaps
     Shut-up, honey. Unfasten your brassiere snaps… 

   All hail to New Joisey, the home of the oil slick
     See the pretty colors stream o'er her highways
   Yes, hail to Joisey, where the landscape's pure scum 
     Drink a toast to the reek of her rot ~ cheap Ripple and rum

Mrs Truttlestone

aint our anniversary on the 29th.
you best get me something this year.
!
fat tuesday and Valintines Day.
Three gift's mista!
I need sumthang to brag to them
unmarried broads about
so they can envy me!
The two pretty gals think they cute
but when I get to the office with these words
them pretty thangs
will frown and envy me!
just like I envy them
when they talk about
the adventures of
 Brave tricks. They the worst,
and them pretty boys be after them
wild azz chix's. This world
is on it's head.
Guess it's alway been that way!
Don't buy me no tuba this year
get something senual.
I feel like Loving.
Make them punks who rejected me
curse you out!

Tarantula Soup

The TS Restaurant was started by two old broads.
They hammered drums outside using lightning rods.
Come one and all! Get your Tarantula soup!
It’ll make your innards happy, it’ll make you poop!

The mayor was upset, he said “it’s not dignified!”
Until his tummy got knotted, and his feces stayed inside.
Now he is outside yelling “Come get your Tarantula soup!”
It has made him more pleasant, now that he can poop.

Running From Two Proud Old Broads

They talked about their great grandbaby as if she was a movie star.
I was sick of smiling at her pictures, and I could not walk very far.
They would chase me down the sidewalk to see her latest video.
They are ninety plus, but you should see these old bats go!

I cannot see without my readers, and I do not wear them outside.
These two sisters were screaming at me today, I had nowhere to hide.
They brought out their cell phone and chased me to my shed.
I said I had not heard them and could hear laughter from old Ned.

He lives three doors away, so you know these biddies are loud.
All they have is this little one; and you can see they are mighty proud.
I got my reading glasses out and took a quick look at the queen.
She might be the prettiest baby anyone in this world has ever seen!

Leo the Lion

I'm Leo the Lion, I am, I am
From the mystical world of the Astrology
I'm generous, strong and warmhearted
That's if you believe in symbology

Not making this up, check it out
Masculine, positive and extroverted
If I listen too carefully, my head will swell
Which should definitely be averted

My wife suggested widening the doorways
Or I might severely injure my brain
Methinks my honey's being a bit facetious
But I love her a bunch just the same

I'm Leo the Lion, I am, I am
Just a fun-loving guy who enjoys my life
They also say I'm very broad-minded
Love broads but don't tell my wife!

Pick Your Poison

Booze—Broads—The Bible,
  which poison will you claim

The one that numbs, the one that thrills
   —the one your soul to shame

‘Captain Tony’s, Key West: June, 1971’

Adventures of the Cuddledog Dolls

WOMEN AGAINST
MEAN WOMAN
IS AN NON FOR PROFEIT 
ORGANIZATION
THAT CHAMPIONS WEAKER MENS
AND WEAKER WOMEN CAUSES
AGAINST MEAN BROADS SYNDROME
THE SLANG FOR THE ORGANIZATION
IS BATTRE UNE CHIENNE
OR CUDDLE DOG SYNDRME
THE ORGANIZATION WAS FORMED
IN HARLEAM NEW YORK
IN 1932 BY AN UNKNOWN SOURCE
FUNDED BY SUPER HERO'S
FROM
BLACK HORNET
TO GREEN LANTERN,
THEY SAY EVEN
BEX THE DRECKLER
SUPPORTED THEM
GAL'S FRESS FROM BATTE UNE CHIENNE!

I Know You Know Better

Arhinio the Highland Hussy, is a story about a tribe of woman who were
exiled from the Tribe of Tithious in the land of Srimadd, in the land of 
Edenusfarr. They worshiped the Evil Goddess Unsharer, who forbade the women to marry men. Yet they could have male friends who were allowed to pay for favors. BBifer was the Queen-Hussy of Meaniest, who would allow these Broads to bare children, but couldn't marry, because the books of Frownbouis forbade it. Doltrime, was said to be the prettiest, she was allowed to smile and tease her male friends, Arilfo was the ugliest she had to submit to the first man who spoke, yet she was forbidden to marry. Thw high-queen,Longtouge, the Spearer, gave word to the kro-kro men of the Neitherworld, those who had many children, could have more and marry the whores, but the fairling and beautiful people were subject to scripts, were they were allowed to be pimped, by different names, if the woman, was pretty she could receive money from a member of her customers club, to receive payment for womanly chores. Askpikeheadrub, was away to show aprecation so this was taxed by the Hussywomen.

Hear Some Music

She know's she can't afford this life
I guess someone will
stand amused.
beyond the contracts, the fortune and fame
it's kinda hard to get people hip
to the game, little like listening, and a whole
 lot of understanding. Some times you see these Bankday Broads
turn nice men into monster. And on the other hand you seesome of these peasants
turn their Gal's into pro's. The script is on the strip, and it aint groceries
the punk is negocating!
In my own way, sometimes, like those who liken there selves to the life, a celebrity is a star, but a wealthy singer
aint nothing but smart. You gotta be able to no what you doing, before you let someone else do-it for you, or to you you know!

Article from the Book, Rock and Roll Diva's and StoneCold crooners! Ballad by Beezwax, written by Delgrin Meatus, @001 From the samples of "Greatful Men" written by Fool soo Branchez, 1952 Newsman Music Company.

A Caveman's Love - For Jan Allison

No Jedi-mindtricks through poetic force,
Nor married women which for blade espouse,
Will see these sexy cheeks that face divorce
Abandon Wookie looks - Adonis vows.
Unless you’ve walked a day without my beard,
And grown exhausted beating off with sticks
The throngs of Starbucks broads smooth-features feared,
Then spare me nicks ‘n cuts by limericks.
It churns my butter blue to render strife
On rare occasions when I tell girls no -
My heart’s too huge for tears, just ask my (ex) wife(s),
Thus on this face, for them, thick hair must grow.
   So to my ‘mum’ and Jan who’d have me shave,
    I love you both like sinks I won’t deprave.

2/27/17
My response to Jan’s limerick, found here:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/for_phillip_and_diane_garcia___ditch_the_beard_880362

The Old Broad Way

They say the neon lights are bright
hate the day but love the night
Dancers flame
Fans acclaim
The show goes on —old broads take flight.

Reversible Baggage

In Backwards Land where ladies worship me,
And never cut my brilliant speeches short;
Where women celebrate adultery,
And feel the same as I; they’re merely sport;
Where broads don’t care how many kids I’ve got,
And care far less how many mothers by;
Where chicks acknowledge make-up makes ‘em hot,
And no mascara runs if bunnies die;
There, because then I’d be a perfect man,
Freed bulky baggage through which snoopers dig,
I’d rarely have to fear the frying pan
Greased up ‘n aimed at this chauvinist pig.
   Ah, but a pipe-dream.  How am I single?
     Nevermind, dollies.  Who wants to mingle?

1/30/17

Valentine Shmalentine

When I do read the cards that sell like meth,
And see the crap men buy in hopes they’ll get laid;
When I behold the roses plucked to their death,
And wilted droops of petals proudly displayed;
When candy aisles I see are stocked with lies,
Which come in fancy boxes priced to sell,
And single broads in need of comfort supplies
Who on romantic nights feel lonely as hell;
Then of misfortune do I celebrate,
That I’ll not have to care about the day,
Since all my love the ex did confiscate
And spared me tons of stuff I hate - Hooray!
   It’s nothing ‘gainst our friend, St. Valentine,
   But less his holiday we’d be just fine.


1/21/2017

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