Jump to content

Non-elegant poetry!


Recommended Posts

I don't know if everyone has seen this old chestnut so I thought I would throw it in.

I still chuckle when I hear it.

There was a young man from Kent

Whose dick was terribly bent

One day to save trouble

He put it in double

And instead of cumming, he went.

Link to comment
  • 2 months later...

A couple named Eric and Kelly

Would walk around back-stuck-to-belly

Because in their haste

They used library paste

Instead of petroleum jelly

And one for my favorite AD author.

A boy from Ohio named Bruno

Said, "Sex is one thing I DO know.

"Boys are just fine,

"And sheep are divine,

"But mules are numero uno!"

Link to comment
  • 1 year later...

This was written by a freind of mine.

There was a young fellow named Bliss

Whose sex life was strangley amiss.

For even with Venus

His recalcitrant penis

Would seldom do better than t

.................................................h

...................................................i

....................................................s

*Well, it won't post the way I wrote it--darn. the h,i,s is to trail down from the 't'. Not as funny if it has to be explained. :hehe:

Steven Keiths

If you can't laugh at yourself; your're probably not funny.

*Edit: With my mighty moderator powers I think I have made it look the way you wanted Steven. -DesDownunder

Link to comment
YES, DES HAS A LOT OF EXPERIENCE MAKING THAT THING BEHAVE JUST AS HE WANTS IT TO.

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

C

Okay I confess, I have always thought the reason for my existence was to discover all the various ways of making the hard become pliable.

:hehe:

Link to comment
  • 6 years later...

There was a young man of Boston,

Who drove around in a tiny Austin,

He had room for his ass,

And plenty of gas,

But his balls hung out

And he lost 'em.

Link to comment

Once there was a little anole lizard walking along the floor of the forest, just minding his own business and munching a few insects. He smelled something odd and loooking up, saw a raccoon sitting in a tree smoking a joint.

"Hey you!" yelled the anole. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Just havin' a joint man, wanna join me?" The raccoon replied.

"Sure!" Said the little anole, and began to climb the tree trunk, eating a few more ants and insects along the way. He reached the raccoon and they began to pass the joint back and forth, smoking in a companionable silence.

After a while, the anole smacked his lips a few times and ran his tongue across his face. "Kinda dries you out, doesn 't it!" He exclaimed. "I'm thirsty."

"Well, the river is right over there." Said the racoon. "Slip over and drink some water."

So the little anole slithered down the tree trunk and sauntered over to the river bank where he chanced upon an old alligator reclining on a log and doing his toenails in a most becoming shade of turquoise blue.

"Well hello young man!" Cooed the alligator, a notorious old chicken queen if there ever was one. "Come here often?"

"No." Said the little anole, "This is my first time."

"Well dearie, just here for the water then are you?" Asked the alligator.

"Yeah, I got thirsty smoking a joint with the raccoon." Said the little anole.

"WHAT?" Screeched the alligotor. "I've had quite enough of that raccoon leading young boys like you astray!" He said, getting quite worked up, as only a dowager queen alligator can get. So he hauled himself off the log and with his turquise blue nails stalked up to the tree.

"You! Up there!" He shrieked.

The raccoon looked down, saw the alligator and said, "Shit dude, how much water did you drink?"

Link to comment
  • 8 months later...

I once took a trip to Venus

Where they thought I had an extraordinary penis

They all wanted to inspect it

I found it hard to reject it

So I became an exhibitionist with a keenness.

Link to comment
  • 2 years later...

A few contributions of my own (they may be a re-post but I can't find them, so posting them here in the home of Limericks seems appropriate):

 

I've always liked limericks, usually the naughtier the better. So every so often I try my hand at writing one. Here is a selection of the results:

 

It was cramped for the crew of a tank.

It was noisy, and dark, and it stank.

One guy made a mistake,

Thought he'd grabbed the handbrake.

And he gave the gun loader a wank.

 

This one I wrote after reading a news report, I think from Australia, of a man who was stopped by police for speeding, while filming himself masturbating, and high on something.

 

While speeding, on weed, this mad guy
Films himself parting his fly.
The cops flag him down
Yelling 'Stop that, you clown!”
He can't, and comes hard, fast and high.

 

King Edward II is generally understood to have been homosexual, and in love with Piers Gaveston, who was apparently what my grandmother would call 'a girl no better than she should be'. In other words, a manipulative gold-digger. Their turbulent relationship caused a lot of trouble with Edward's father, and his wife, and the whole kingdom.

 

A report reached the court: “It appears
That Edward and Cornwall are queers!”
The king made a scene -
Claimed he did love his queen;
But the queen that he loved was his Piers.

 

Two limericks about surnames. The first was inspired by the name of the BBC reporter, Tom Geoghegan. It's a name with Irish origins, and it's pronounced 'gay-gun'. You'll need to know that to make sense of the limerick.

 

I'm stuck with the surname of Geoghegan,

A name that goes back to times Peoghegan.

Once, just for a laugh,

I pronounced the first haugh

On its own and was Geoghe for a Deoghe, Man!

 

At the wedding of friends, boy to boy,

We wondered whose name they'd employ.

Speculation was trounced

When the vicar announced:

Roy Fitzalan, and Alan Fitzroy.

 

There was a light-hearted 'Talk like a Pirate' day a while back, and a writer's forum that I follow got into the spirit of the thing in a big way. I contributed the following limericks. Note that Charlie Cochrane and Alex Beecroft are the names of two of the other authors who participated.

 

Messrs Morgan, and Bonny, and Teach
Did disport with a cabin boy each.
They each thought it best
Not to use the Crow's Nest
But to roger his boy on the beach.

Grim Blackbeard, the last of his breed
Committed a dastardly deed
His practice heretical
(albeit parenthetical)
Was to sprinkle his crew with his seed.

 

The feared Cap'n Charlie Cochrane
Swore he'd never be tempted again
After Dread Pirate Bee-
Croft suggested that he
And his mate should try sexual pain.

The dread Pirate Beecroft alone
Is the scourge of the high seas, I own.
With his bo's'un at night
He cavorts with delight
And the whole crew can hear how they groan.

 

The next few deal with the common problem among older men, prostate trouble. For the first of these I have to apologise, nay grovel, to my dear friend DesDownunder, who is the butt of this joke. He has broad shoulders (he's big everywhere that counts, so I'm told!) and will not doubt take this affectionate joshing in good part. And to put the record straight, he's not nearly as old as the limericks imply, I have it on good authority he's well under a hundred years of age. A mere stripling.

 

Our Des, who's a hundred years old

(Or, roughly that age, so I'm told),

Gets up for a slash

Runs a thirty yard dash

Thrice nightly, and always wins gold.

 

The guy has to look after me,

He must - I'm his prostate, you see.

The doc gave a prod

(Felt like his mate's rod)

And declares that I'm A1 healthy.

 

Lift your knees up!” the doc said, and pressed

His finger inside me, no less.

Ignoring my pride

He stroked side to side

And I spurted all over his chest.

 

A doctor named Coriolanus (wait for it!)
Attempted to test me for gayness.
He got me disrobed
Then he prodded and probed
Till I squealed 'Take care - that's my... coccyx!

 

Tchaikovsky was almost certainly homosexual, and lived a tortured life because he could not express himself freely. He formed a close attachment to his young nephew Bob, which was the inspiration for his sixth symphony, known as 'the pathetique'. Sadly he died less than a week after its first performance.

 

Peter Ilych wrote music unique,
His last piece he called 'Pathetique'.

Inspired by his 'Bob',

He completed the job,
But the poor man was dead in a week.

 

We got on surprisingly well

When we camped on the Cumberland Fell.

My friend whispered “Shall us

Cavort with your phallus,

My anus, this condom, and gel?”

 

Shake hands; I'm your new friend – your penis.

You'll soon find what fun I can benis.

When you're down and alone

When there's no-one else home

You and I can let fly with all freenis.

 

This last limerick is not 'all my own work'. The original version is in the public domain, penned by that prolific genius, 'anon'. I have taken his work and bowdlerised it mercilessly, resulting in my gay-themed variant, which I like to think works better.

 

A plumber, young, randy and free

Was plumbing his mate by the sea.

Said the lad, “Cease your plumbing,

I think someone's coming!”

Said the plumber, still plumbing, “It's me!”

 

I hope you've enjoyed these and are not scandalized by them. I also hope I have not sullied my reputation irreparably!

 

 

 

 

Link to comment
  • 1 year later...
On 11/17/2007 at 10:03 PM, DesDownunder said:

Okay I confess, I have always thought the reason for my existence was to discover all the various ways of making the hard become pliable.

:hehe:

Damn. I thought you said "palatable." My bad.

Link to comment

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...