Huge Harry swims in his G string
Its stitches burst, he feels them ping
His gonads are so small
One hand covers them all
His massive dong - it’s left to swing!
Teeny
Weeny
~Contest: 1430
Sponsor: Brian Strand
I met her at a biker bar
(C) 2025 by Russ Dodson
I met her at a biker bar
somewhere in midtown Monterrey.
She said she was a topless dancer,
working fifteen shifts a day.
She handed me a well-worn token,
said her name was Daisy Mae,
said if I learned to play the game right
I would never have to pay.
I placed the token on the table,
waited for the song to play.
When it started, she stood up;
I watched her body start to sway.
She headed for a dressing room,
looked back and said, "Don't go away."
She returned wearing a costume
meant to lead a man astray.
In pasties and a beaded g-string,
everything was on display.
Her eyes said, "This is all for you, love."
There was nothing more to say.
Not by covering clothes you warm your body
Just by looking the eyes you see you're cold
Fresh from the morning sun it feels like sunny
While the beamoning eyes wonders see you like gold.
There are things that false the weary eyes
Interpreting things as true in your own discussion
The long distant line you wish the horizon lies
Sometimes not acceptable in the age of public opinion.
Season may equites that the ground is full of snow
Never realizing that it's all land underneath
As you dig in its just a superficial force of show
The sky is using season to subdue and cover the earth.
How the world change abruptly, human life fast change evolution
From old wearing g-string to the modern wearing t-back string, my gee
From primitive invention to science and technology innovation
The fashion world is showing human life the age of innovative morality.
gossip in the velvet declares my surrender
to strip club excess, where fantasies unfold
a g-string serenata that stains the linger
a slow-mo ride through motels of the bold
the DJ's drumbeat dares me to surrender
to tangled trysts and transactions unclear
a haze of haze, a burden to calamity
the echoes of excess, lingering near
i lose myself in slots of satin thigh
where flickering lights ignite an inner fire
a champagne toast to incense my disease
a random selection to drive me to the mire
inflatable unicorns and hydraulic rifts
dances of desire, offering cuts to strife
backroom tales and fresh neglect of reason
adult playground bunny, passions steal the scene
It was the Emperor's birthday.
The Coliseum was sold out.
All over the Cityyou could hear
The people laughs and shout.
First came on the animals
In the early evening heat'
Not much fun once They’d had
enough Christians to eat.
The came on the gladiators
All dressed up to thrill,
Because it was Caesar's birthday
They weren't allowed to kill.
Then came the speciality act,
The deflowering of a hundred maids
All tastefully laidout
Under transparent sunshades.
Out strode the proud Nubian
Dressed In G string and sarong
Eager to get started at
The clash of the gong.
First three dispatched with ease
He stiffened, clasped his head
And without further ado
Fell down stone deaded dead.
In the stunned silence
The promoters was heard to stay
He was fine at dress rehearsal
Earlier on today.
It being a little early
To send the crowd home
They had a little riot
And they burned down Rome.
The Emperor got excited
And quickly joined
Swaying to the flames as
He played his violin.
That's how the Empire ended
By contemporary description;
How different it could have been
With Viagara on prescription.
no G string
Thrift Shop Guitar
1520 songs out
Used to call him ‘half-pint’
He was a sawed-off runt
He’d down his drink in seconds
Then he’d burp and grunt
Manners had he zero
He’d grown up down and out
Roughest patch was X-mas Time
All alone, he’d bawl and pout
But then came New Year’s Day
when this runt became a king
He’d toast the Strumpet, Fortune
removing her g-string…
In the morning he’d awaken
and reach for his good luck
But he’d clutch an empty pillow
~ back seat of a pick-up truck
My auntie wears 'Bridget Jones' knickers
But last week at tea at the vicars
She’d purloined MY lace thong
It was morally wrong
T’was the cause of very loud snickers
My thong’s wedged between her butt crack
Stuck firmly between front and back
But it’s not a surprise
As it’s not in her size
There’s no room to cut any slack
Aunt waddles around like a duck
Like a chicken she begins to cluck
‘Yes I took her G-string
Get me out of this thing’
Stop gawping, help me get unstuck
The Vicar say’s I’ll get my pliers
On reflection it’s what this requires
The vicar doesn’t shirk
As he gets down to work
But after an hour he tires
My auntie’s visage is not pale
(Her embarrassment is off the scale)
When my G string gets cut
It pings clean off her butt
It’s a shame she’s the tush of a whale!
For a ‘sweet’ friend BB xx
07/22/21
New dentist, he’s called Mister Payne
His image is fixed in my brain
He wore fuzzy green socks
Pink suspenders and crocs
I’m hoping I’ll see him again!
I ogled him from the black chair
His quirky clothes sure made me stare
A red latex G-string
Hardly covered a thing
The rest of his body was bare!
He polished and checked all my teeth
And revealed his first name was Keith
He admired MY gold crocs
Lace basque and red socks
We’re dating tonight on the heath!
Fuzzy socks and crocs Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Francine Roberts
06/10/21
THINGS WITH STRINGS
Spider's web, strings of stars,
a weaver's loom, and old guitars.
Balls of yarn, and DNA,
string bikini, and crochet.
Cats cradle, spools of thread,
Tails on kites, and hairs on head.
Theory in music, or in science,
together making a string alliance.
Yo-yo, and Pinocchio,
harp, violin and cello.
Catgut bow, and strings of cheese,
or whiskers on a prized Siamese.
Silly String, and G-string,
an strings of birds on wing.
Math strings, "No strings attached,"
a roof that's been heather thatched.
String quilts, strings of pearls,
strings that tie to locks of curls.
Music staff, and balls of twine,
and tendrils from a sweet pea vine.
Heart, balloon, and aprons too,
and laced up in a tennis shoe.
Garland, hamstring, and quartet,
strings on fingers to not forget.
Braided rings, and strings of lights,
pulling strings, and fishnet tights.
Telephone string through tin cans,
woven blankets and knit afghans.
Brown paper packages tied up in string,
needle, lanterns, and wind chimes that sing.
Drawstring, bowstring, and baby's pull toy,
string, strung, and stringing, we're all overjoyed.
By Edlynn Nau
© January 25, 2015
My guitar just called out your name,
I wasn’t even thinking of you.
I went to pick it up, brushed the guitar strings…..
And my guitar just called out your name.
Maybe I’m going insane,
But I even heard your name in the rain,
I've heard it on the wind, and I heard it once again,
When my guitar just called out your name.
I know that I will never get over you,
I still can’t believe that were through.
Memories remain, and I sure felt the pain,
When my guitar just called out your name.
I miss you so much that I could die,
But life goes on so everyday I try
to live my life without you but I’ll never be the same
and my guitar just called out your name.
Yes my guitar just called out your name,
I wasn’t even thinking of you.
I went to pick it up, brushed the guitar strings..........
And my guitar just called out your name........
(Most female names are two syllables so pluck the
Open B string followed by the open G string
for the finish of the song)
I
>>
I paint pictures with words.
[email protected]
Hear me,
I’m going to try and be cheery
Cheer me,
Chirp like a bird when you wake up in the morning
you ain’t murdered there's no wake no mourning,
You’re alive and kicking,
stop kicking, ice cream licking
in hot hot summertime
it’s not not undercover time,
Feel the breeze, admire the trees, the cold rescind,
sunglasses see the wind lift up a skirt,
G string, wonderful thing eyes don't divert,
a fun pass sees us strip and bathe in sun, umm pervert,
turn red, geees lobstering, now that's gona hurt,
smile, some have one testicle,
vile, and one undetectable, laugh,
you full sacked, not half.
I told you I’m happy,
This a cheery attack,
hands together clappy,
clearly a happy chap,
rhyme well angry,
happy, I'm crap.
High maintenance, Lots of patience
Trying to stay out of police stations
They drive you nuts, With their butts
You better have
A million bucks, I wish you luck
You know your stuck
Nice clothes
Expensive stores
That really blows
Nice cars, Fancy bars
G-string panties
In their drawers
High maintenance, Lots of patience
There's an explanation
For our fascination
Double d's, I guarantee
We all agree
That's what we need
To go broke, Let's try and cope
This ain't a joke
Let's take a vote
This song is dope
A is for a**l
B is for balls
Share them or wear them
Tucked up in your smalls
C is for condoms
Of all shapes and sizes
D is for dicks
Made of chocolate for prizes
E is for enlarging erections
Oh wow!
F is for fig leaves
Worn you know how
G is for G string
Oooh very nice
H is for handcuffs
Double locked twice
I is for indecent
That sums it up
J is for juices
And not in a cup
K is for kinky
Whatever the weather
L is for lust, libido and leather
M is for mask, massage and minge
N is for naughty
Making me cringe
O is for oral
Taken at leisure
P is for pervert, ****, pimp and pleasure
Q is for quickie
If that is your need
R is for rampant rabbit
One you won't have to feed
S is for S and M
With shackles thrown in
T is for torture
Oh such a sin
U is for urinate
Some folk just love it
V is for vibrator
You know where to shove it
W is for whores, whips, willies and wellies
X is for x rated **** on your tellies
Y is for yeast
Well it does make bread rise!
And Z, well I'm f****d
So I'll say my goodbyes!
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