Sunday, August 29, 2010

CCVII - Emotional Food

One Minute Writer had a topic "Write about a food that gives you a specific emotional response."
A limerick seems to be a good idea for something a bit risqué...

Emotional Food

There are many foods that emotionally sweeten
And make you feel good when they’re eaten;
But, for the food that permits
The best emotional hits,
Chocolate body-paint cannot be beaten.

© J Cosmo Newbery

Sunday, August 08, 2010

CCVI - Not the full story

I know of two folk, one family, one work, who ran off to be with someone that they met on-line.
Or thought they met of line. Sometimes you don't get the full story.

Not the full story.

But soft! What sound from yonder PC beeps?
It is an email! My darling Jools has written!
It’s love poem, full of the sweetest words!
Oh, I swoon, with the heartache of the smitten.

Look at him, dear reader, the poor fool
Is besotted by a woman who isn’t even there.
In his mind she lives, a peaches and cream concoction
With flowing long red hair.
She has legs that reach her armpits
And always wears white gloves.
Angels sing wherever she sits
And she’s attended to by doves.

Oh, my head and heart are throbbing
and I’m losing all perspective;
A very different throb engulfs my loins
And it’s hard to remain objective.
O Jools, my dearest darling!
The angel of my nightly dream;
I long to clutch you to me
With nothing in between!

Oh, if he could see her sitting there
In dressing gown and pink slippers,
She has an over abundance of body hair
And her breath is edged with kippers.
Her hair is done up in curlers,
There’s a tattoo on each breast,
One is a portrait of her first boyfriend,
The other, a group shot of the rest.

But time, dear friends, for a reality check,
Both sides are damaged stock.
Romeo is a bit loose with the truth
And Jools is in for a shock.
He said he carried a six-pack
And she dreamed of rippling abs
But the guy is just a truckie
With an overload of flab.
He works in a sweat-stained singlet
And trucks beer from place to place;
But at night he puts on lipstick,
High heels and black French lace.
He’s had a few relationships
But none of them took anchor;
Well, there was a goat called Suzie,
But she left him for a banker.

I can’t but dread the future
For this pair of lusty dears.
It can’t but end in tragedy:
There’ll be weeping, there’ll be tears.

Romeo, Romeo, where for art thee?
We’re a match well made in heaven.
Come, let’s run away my love,
On a scale of one to ten, I think you are eleven.

© J Cosmo Newbery

Sunday, August 01, 2010

CCV - Tourists as Sheep

Some people have more organised tours than others...

Tourists as Sheep

Carrying roses, they walk in a line,
Like sheep in a field, well crossed.
A plastic label displays their name,
In case the poor darlings get lost.

Orchestrated to the minute,
The group disappears afar.
Sipping beer from the side lines
I gently murmur ‘Baaa!’

© J Cosmo Newbery