CCLVI - Finely hewn fragment

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This was written as part of something else
But that something never progressed.
Might as well put it up here until I need it.


The pride of his manhood, finely hewn,
Was enough to make a young girl swoon:
He was hung like a bull,
And their gravitational pull
Disturbed the path of the moon,
The moon,
Disturbed the path of the moon.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCLV - Light diet

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
This is a second go at the previous prompt.


A guy in a mood for a bite
Ate a candle and half a flashlight
"I’m on a new diet,
I urge you to try it
Now I’m lighter but not very bright."

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCLIV - Once bitten

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A guy in the mood for a bite
Asked a girl if she’d stay for the night.
She said “I won’t quibble,
Whether a bite or a nibble,
But that’s all you be getting tonight.”

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCLIII - Flash Gordon

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Flash"
I have continued my limerick phase...


Flash Gordon

A habit that most would deplore
Just brings Gordon right back for some more;
He gets his pleasures
By displaying his treasures
To the commuters on the 8:44.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCLII - The Nude and the Elephant

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Red Dirt Girl put up some photos that were in search of a limerick.
How could I not oblige?

The elephant thought the guy cute
As he stood naked in front of the brute.
"But your trunk is so small,
It's of no use at all
For jobs like picking up fruit."

.

A lady who was pubicly cleared
Lamented "It's just as I feared.
The absence of hair
(Despite a cute pair)
Tends only to attract the quite weird.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCLI - Streaker

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
I got overly excited and did three.


A girl who was fast on her feet
Would streak every day down the street
The men were delighted
But the women were united
In calling her far from discrete.

◊◊◊

A girl who was fast on her feet,
Outran all the guys, when on heat.
“As much as I enjoy
A romp with a boy
I don’t want to be out on the street”.

◊◊◊

A girl who was fast on her feet
Was at port to welcome the fleet
This speedy young beauty
Thought it her duty
To discharge any sailor she’d meet.

---


© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
---

CCL - A Different Day

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Day".

A Different Day

When the days are long and dragging
When you wonder why you’re there;
When the work they have you doing
Leaves you tearful with despair,
When it all seems bloody heartless
It’s time to quit your chair.

When they ask you to perform
Tasks, for you, unfairly borne,
When you lie awake at night
But dread the coming of the morn,
The obscenity’s in the detail
Of this corporate form of porn.

When the night of life is darkest,
And your sleepless heart just aches,
The new day dawns with promise
And forgives us our mistakes,
For, when the sun breaks through the clouds,
Oh, what a day a difference makes.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXLIX - How can you love an FTE?

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The company I work for does not have employees,
It has FTEs: Full-Time Equivalents.


How can you love an FTE?

How can you love an FTE?
They’re cold and feel no pain.
They’re numbers on a spreadsheet,
An annoying financial drain.

How can you love an FTE?
They make us lots of money, yes,
But we could make a squillion more
If we could pay the bastards less.

How can you love an FTE?
A misplaced socialist ardor;
Money’s there if you sack a few
And worked the others harder.

How can you love an FTE?
A nuisance that encumbers;
Can they really have emotions
When they’re really only numbers?

How can you love an FTE?
It’s not as if they’re real
With wives and lives and puppy dogs
Who love and live and feel.

How can you love an FTE?
You can’t that’s very clear.
They are numbers on a spreadsheet,
So just forget them, that’s a dear.

◊◊◊

Optional last verse.

There’s no way to love an FTE,
That’s how they’ve been designed.
They’re pawns in a grubby chess game,
And to that I’m now resigned.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

And, yes, I have resigned.
...

CCXLVIII - Rondo

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.


A guy who was covered in sweat
Had made love to a Beethoven quartet.
The allegro was fine,
The pizzicato divine,
But the finale he'd rather forget.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXLVII - The Bone Filter

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Theme Thursday's theme last Thursday was "Communication".



The Bone Filter

We humans are a most social lot
And words are there to drive us.
They help us rally ‘round our tribe
And let our knowledge out-survive us.

But communication, like all human skills,
Is spread both thin and thick;
Some can paint a dream with words
While others hit you with a brick.

Despite the varied rhetorical skills
We use in verbal clinches,
It’s not really a communication
Until it’s past the last four inches.

But even then survival’s slim,
In the realm beyond the ears;
Communication’s not what you say,
But what the hearer hears.

In the bony recesses of the mind,
All inputs are there inspected,
Through prisms, lens and filters,
To be taken in or off-handedly rejected.

And so our civilization will progress
On what we think we thought we heard;
Sadly, invariably, we will get it wrong,
And, for that, you can take my word.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLVI - Rough drop

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here is another effort for the previous prompt:


A fellow was trying to dine
But lamented the taste of the wine.
The flavour, he said,
Was of something long dead,
And that death was far from benign.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLV - First Course Entree.

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here is my effort for this week:


A fellow was trying to dine
When his wife proposed they recline.
Being on a winner,
He postponed his dinner,
An arrangement that suited just fine.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXLIV - The Hotel

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With another visit to The Harbour City this week, a reflection on the dubious pleasures of hotels.
I much prefer rhyming poetry. This hybrid is the furthest I get away from it
but it seemed to reflect the staccato nature of hotel life, for those on the road.
A tedium not usually seen by dewy-eyed tourists.

The Hotel

Sterile places.
Vacant faces.
Foyer spaces .
Fully devoid of any affection.

Disconnection.
Disinfection.
Introspection.
Sigmund Freud
Could be employed
Full time basis.
Manual erection,
Endless cases.
Cold embraces.
Lack of graces.

Life in bags.
Night-time drags.
Past the panes,
The city races
And life remains.
The sounds of cars,
The hoot of trains,
But not of faces;
Contained but very much alone.
Room service that comes,
By the phone,
Jars
And leaves its traces
Of our needs, unmet
By mini-bars.

Showers you can’t fit in,
Seats you cannot sit in,
Little blocks of soap.
One blanket, polyester.
The air-conditioner’s dead,
A small and lumpy bed.
Sleep’s a forlorn hope.
The TV shows are a rehashing
Of drama, crime and sex molesters.
The bed will cross the floor
If you lean against the wall.
Clock displays are flashing,
If they even work at all

Noisy plumbing
In the night
From neighbours
And the water.
From the calls,
Through the walls,
Someone’s delight
Really might
Be a little shorter.
Or more quiet.

Fitful sleep
With little rest.
Up and dressed
In workplace best
Fed and keen to go.
Last inspection,
Pack the bags,
Check the room,
Take the lift,
Cross the void,
Past the waiting
Anxious eyes.
If you’re wise.
Time to check out
Then to step out
With no adieu.

Into the sun.
Or the rain

Either will do.
And be enjoyed.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXLIII - Fall from Grace

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here are my efforts this week:


A fellow who tended to brag
Was proud of the balls in his bag.
He'd invite all the girls
To handle his pearls
And was distressed when they started to sag.

◊◊◊

Or then there could be this:

A woman who tended to brag
Of her quest for a mind-blowing shag
Got the full attention
Of the male extension,
But none could perform in the bag.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXLII - As game as they come.

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here are my efforts this week:


A woman who always seemed game
Developed spots with a long Latin name.
She got infected
After sex unprotected;
But was at a loss to know who to blame.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXLI - Money Honey

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Mad Kane has a limerick, starting with the first line,
"A man who was free with his money".

Here is my slant on it:


A man who was free with his money
Attracted the wrong sort of honey.
Without much ado
She poisoned his stew;
His last words were “Tastes a bit funny…”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXL - The Question

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Magpie Tales had the above painting as a prompt.


The Question

Life is rewarding, have no doubt:
Fortune favours the brave.
With trembling voice the words came out.
Would she give him what he craved?

“You want what?” she cried aghast,
“We hardly even kissed!
There are many things I’d do if asked
But that’s not on my list!”

“On this I must be very firm:
Your head is full of rocks.
Life is far too short a term
To spend it darning socks.”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXIX - Never Needle a Knitter

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.
Here are my efforts this week:

A man who was lacking in wit
Needled those who knew how to knit.
He did it too often
Now he lives in a coffin;
The details are in his obit.

A girl who was lacking in wit
Thought a penis was something that bit.
At the end of the night
She exclaimed with delight,
“It’s toothless! But it knows how to spit!”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXVIII - A Love-Smitten Guy.

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Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.
She provides the first line, the rest is up to us. Here is my effort:
.
A love smitten guy was irate
When he found his sweet love in a state
Politely described
As ‘over imbided’
And in bed with the coxless eight*.

◊◊◊

A love-smitten guy was irate
That his member refused to inflate.
The eye of his affection
Consoled his dejection
But privately said it was great.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

*For the technically minded (= pedantic) a rowing eight is never coxless,
but what is the use of poetry if you can't use poetic licence?
...

CCXXXVII - The Letters

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Theme Thursday had a prompt: Letter


The Letters

The yellowing letters, ribbon bound,
Lived in the top drawer, beside her bed.
Read and re-read, she always found
Comfort and solace in what they said.

He wrote of his love, forever burning,
He wrote of their lives, forever entwined,
He wrote with passion and an inner yearning,
She always blushed when she read those lines.

Margin notes embellished the pages,
Here and there a flower was pressed,
The letters talked from across the ages
Of a love that failed to be suppressed.

He went to the war, now always apart,
But, in his letters, he returns his heart.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXVI - The Bike

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Magpie Tales had the above poster as a prompt.


The Bike

In a thin gown,
She rode through the town,
And declared that it gave her a thrill.

She didn’t straddle
But rode it side-saddle
A trick that only works down hill.

She took great delight
To ride in sunlight
But exposed her breasts when it was shady.

While a bike is okay,
To be transported away
I’d much rather be riding the lady.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXV - Captivated

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Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Captivate'.


Captivated

He loved her with a passion
That few could understand.
Such love is out of fashion,
It’s often even banned.

He loved her sparkling eyes,
He loved the way she sits,
He loved her inner thighs
And her pretty pinkish bits.

Her skin was smooth as plaster,
Her hair was golden-tressed,
He never thought to ask her
If he could watch as she undressed.

Did she know she had this beau?
That’s far from being certain
But the heartless little so-and-so
Turned and pulled the curtain.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXIV - In the mourning.

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Loss".


In the mourning.

You won me over when we met;
Your silver tongue and golden speech
Filled me with hope, a sense that change
Was really there, within our reach.

But now in the cold and morning light,
I see that it was but lust
And not providing a warm embrace
As a loving engagement must.

Two years on and we have more wars
And Guantanamo is still supported,
Bradley rots in a solitary cell
And cluster bombs are still exported.

Desire was there for better times
But moral issues have been evaded.
Israel continues to flout the law
And sovereign countries have been invaded.

My eyes are open to what I’ve lost,
It’s tomorrow and reality is dawning;
In black, I regret what could have been
And I don’t respect you, in the mourning.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXIII - Show Some Care

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Straw".
I had an urge to do a villanelle, a fairly structured poetic form.


Show Some Care

My back will break beneath the weight,
If you do not show some care;
Stop now, before it is too late.

The ‘things to do’ do not abate
But come to me, as I am there;
My back will break beneath the weight.

What does it matter to miss a date?
Better that than not even there.
Stop now, before it is too late.

Tasks are assigned without debate
And make me wish I wasn’t there:
My back will break beneath the weight

Why rush as a bull towards a gate?
Far better to think, be aware;
Stop now, before it is too late.

As the camel said “Don’t you dare
Put another straw up there.
My back will break beneath the weight
Stop now, before it is too late.”

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXXII - The Morning Light

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Magpie Tales had the above photo as a prompt.
I felt it deserved a rondeau.


The Morning Light

The morning light, like liquid gold,
Runs down the valley, to enfold
The field and farms and those within;
As thick as treacle, sweet as sin.
The sleepers wake and loath unfold,
To stretch and slow release their hold
Of night time lovers, young and old,
And rise, as dreaming, to step in
The morning light.

With inner warmth against the cold
They know how nature’s joy is told
The love of life is in their skin
A day must end and then begin
To greet once more thus behold
The morning light.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXXI - The Green Grassy Patch

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The Green Grassy Patch

The forests are a shady and welcoming place
With glens and secretive clearings.
The green velvet looks
Of these grass-filled nooks
Make the woods all the more endearing,
Endearing,
Make the woods all the more endearing.

Deep in these woods, the birds would sing
Songs of the eggs they would hatch.
They would twitter above as
Some lust filled lovers
Looked for the perfect patch
Perfect patch
As they looked for the perfect patch.

They found a clearing away from the path,
Where no-one they felt would pass.
All that was left
When they redressed
Was an imprint of her bum in the grass,
In the grass,
Was in imprint of her bum in the grass.

Now, the birds of course had seen it before
This couple were far from the first.
But they sensed in the duet
That an egg had been set
They swelled with a pride that could burst
Could burst,
Swelled with a pride that could burst.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

CCXXX - A Three-way Hitch

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Sunday Scribblings had a topic 'Hitch'.
Now, there are a number of possible meanings...

Three-way Hitch

A girl in the Shire,
Fancied the squire,
But, a hitch! He didn't want to date her.

So the little flirt
Hitched up her skirt
And encouraged his lordship to mate her.

He swears he declined
To be so entwined
But they were hitched a few months later.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXIX - Banana Risotto

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I was in Sydney a while ago and I swear I heard someone say ‘Banana Risotto’.
I looked up and it was two ladies, obviously talking in a foreign language.
It was just a coincidental sound alike. That grew into the following:
Banana Risotto.

Sardine doughnuts,
Frog filled snow huts,
Tree-lined pancakes,
Cross-eyed leaf rakes,
Purple ear-wax,
Strawberry thumbtacks,
Wooden lamb chops,
Caustic pet shops,
Rubber wombats,
Yoghurt hardhats,
Ginger shirtsleeves,
Grubby tea leaves,
Copper toupees,
Salty zoo days,
Orange birdcalls,
Feather words stalls,
Tit elation,
Mistranslation ,
Consternation.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

---

Oh, the photo? Well, If you knew sushi, that way that I know sushi...

...

CCXXVIII - More Pete, more feet.

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While we are on Pete and his feet, Magpie Tales
had the above picture as a prompt.

There once was a mollusc, named Pete,
Whose stomach doubled up as his feet.
When the meal was quite grand
He could no longer stand
And had to look 'round for a seat.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXVII - Taking Stock

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Stock"

Taking Stock

There once was a cook known as Pete
Who made soups for royalty to eat.
The foundation rock
Was a really good stock
In which he had washed his feet.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXVI - Theatre

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One Minute Writer had a topic "Theatre"

Theatre

The world is full of action
With births and deaths and toil;
There’s people, fish and animals,
There’s water, wind and soil.

And as they go about their lives
In life’s maze of daily hedges,
I doubt they even notice me
Watching from the edges.

All the world’s a stage,
Said the Bard who said it all,
But I often feel I’m seated
In the back row of the stalls.

But don’t feel sorry for me,
In my dark, embracing hall;
The show I see before me
Continues to enthrall.

It’s just I do not feel
A member of the cast.
I’m just a curious bystander,
Watching them go past.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXV - The Mahdi's Socks

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The Mahdi’s Socks


There was a Mahdi who ruled in Khartoum,
And had a cushion in the middle of the room,
From here he would command
Vast tracts of his land
And did it quite well, I assume.

Chorus
Scimitars swing, like scimitars do,
Slicing infidels, two by two,
Khartoum high street, the fields of Sudan,
The people all shout “the Mahdi’s our man”.

Foreign armies he knew how to handle
And ruled with an absence of scandals
But he caused regular dismay
To the press of the day
By wearing socks as well as his sandals.

Chorus

He was a fighter and answered that calling,
And the British received quite a mauling.
But as Gordon had said
Before losing his head,
(Pucker) He knows how to fight but his style is quite appalling.

Chorus

But while victories kept upping his stocks
The people still worshiped his socks,
“We prefer battle glory
To a social page story;
We don’t care if his fashion sense shocks..

Chorus.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXIV - The Day That William Wed His Kate

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The Day That William Wed His Kate

It started early and finished late:
Coverage of the pathway to their fate,
With breathless stories of secret courting,
The day that William wed his Kate.

It was like a free hit for the fourth estate,
The media revelled in the wedding fete.
There was no other news worth reporting
The day that William wed his Kate.

There was no mention of climate debate
Nor the nasty moves of the tectonic plates,
Neither got the coverage that they deserved
The day that William wed his Kate.

Nor did the bids to kill heads of state
Supported, of course, with UN mandates,
And there was no word about oil reserves,
The day that William wed his Kate.

Yet millions of poor, condemned by fate,
Struggled to put some food on their plate.
The world was in a sorry mess,
The day that William wed his Kate.

But none of this could be equated
To the eager tension of those who waited.
All eyes were focussed on ‘that dress’,
The day that William wed his Kate.

The social columns were quick to relate
The lines of succession traditions dictate,
They were even trying to name the kids,
The day that William bed his Kate.

They entered the palace and closed the gate
A life in a glasshouse lay in wait,
I wouldn’t swap with them for quids,
The day that William wed his Kate.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXIII - The Watcher

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Theme Thursday's theme last Thursday was "television".


The Watcher

I stayed at a hotel recently;
It had all the normal stuff
One needs to be quite comfortable,
No sense in living rough.

In the centre of the room,
On a cabinet of it’s own,
Was an enormous television,
With a remote beside the phone.

A brochure proudly told me
Of the shows of every kind
That I had the chance to choose between,
If feeling so inclined.

Four days later, as I packed my things,
Preparing to move on,
It stood there black and sulking
As I had never turned it on.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXII - Ova done

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Magpie Tales had the above picture as a prompt.
I had a few ideas...


Ova done.

Oh, proteinaceous yellow goo,
The natural friend of wholemeal toast,
The white, of course, has merit too
But it is the runny yolk I like the most.

◊◊◊

Wanting reasons, mankind is cursed,
To ponder how some things begin.
But neither the chicken nor egg came first,
It was the rooster, with the cocky grin.

◊◊◊

Hope was in the young lad dawning;
Assuming acquiescence, he asked by and by –
“How do you like you eggs in the morning?”
“Unfertilised” was the curt reply.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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CCXXI - Three Little Words

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Three Word Wednesday requires participants
to use the three words of the week in a composition.
The words this week were cleanse, knead and melt.


Three little words

The bath, the oils, the fire in place,
The music, the candles, the private space;
The delightful charms, seen and felt:
To cleanse, to knead, to slowly melt
Into the arms of a lover’s embrace.

---
© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery

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