Poetry

[pauldun170]

A WOMAN'S POEM:

Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.

I pray he's rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won't be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand.
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other.
And relish visits with my mother..


A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
big tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit..

[Rider]

Truth.

[Trip]

This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit..


lolz

[fnfalman]

A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
big tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit..
Not every man is a knuckle dragging Neanderthal.

My poems are romantic, thoughtful and they even rhyme. Here's an example:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
My wang is long and it's all for YOU.

[Archren]

This thread rocks. :lol:

[Ninjakel]

OMG!! :rofl:

[Rider]

One I wrote to my secretary:

You're great at taking dictation
You're quite the typist too
100 words a minute as you siphon out my goo
You're always 10 minutes early and the coffee's always hot
but the best thing about you is your hairy little twat.

[t-homo]

I really hope you actually gave that to your secretary. It'd either be a great laugh or a great fuck.

[pauldun170]

One I wrote to my secretary:

You're great at taking dictation
You're quite the typist too
100 words a minute as you siphon out my goo
You're always 10 minutes early and the coffee's always hot
but the best thing about you is your hairy little twat.


I go ahead and post an intelligent thought provoking post and you have to ruin it with that bullshit.

That's just fucked up man...
Just wrong.

"Siphon" doesn't seem to work well something about the flow and I personally think the poem should end in "cunt"...not twat.

Maybe twat waffle....just not twat.
Twat is so...British low brow

[Rider]

It's the crinkles in your crackhole
It's your pussy juice that flows
When I cum all over your monster tits
It reminds me of when it snows

[fnfalman]

Here's one poem from a man who's not afraid of writing pretty poetry for the ladies (and it got him laid a lot too).

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

[Archren]

Here's one poem from a man who's not afraid of writing pretty poetry for the ladies (and it got him laid a lot too).

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!


God damn, that was pretty good. :lol:

[fnfalman]

God damn, that was pretty good. :lol:

That's Lord Byron for you. He had a clubbed foot but he was quite the ladies' man because of his poetry writing skills (oh, and some money and British nobility don't hurt either).

Here's a poem that got me laid on Valentine's Day 1991, Operation Desert Storm.

White Rose

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

by John Boyle O'Reilly

[Archren]

That's Lord Byron for you. He had a clubbed foot but he was quite the ladies' man because of his poetry writing skills (oh, and some money and British nobility don't hurt either).

Here's a poem that got me laid on Valentine's Day 1991, Operation Desert Storm.

White Rose

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

by John Boyle O'Reilly


Deployment booty. Haha... as long as you weren't in a port-a-john or a water buffalo, it's all good. :lol:

[Rider]

Here's a poem that got me laid on Valentine's Day 1991, Operation Desert Storm.



I was over there at that time and there were NO ladies around...... So uh...... Yeah. :diitb: did ya?

[fnfalman]

I was over there at that time and there were NO ladies around...... So uh...... Yeah. :diitb: did ya?

It isn't my fault that you didn't know where the chicks were or had no connections with the JAG office.:idk: