The Way I Make Me Feel

A poem inspired by:

 
Does sniffing my own panties
make me gay?
And should looking at my own reflection
make me feel this way?

Am I spending too long
lathering in the shower?
Is it right to rub my soapy breasts
for longer than an hour?

Don’t think me vain because I make myself feel so good.
I kiss, caress and pleasure me.
You’d do it if you could.

Dragging You Down

A poem inspired by:

 
I’m the train wreck you’ve been waiting for,
I’ve been here all the while,
slowly tearing my life apart,
behind this plastic smile.

I’m the easy one you’ve dreamed about,
vulnerable and willing.
Come take your place beside me,
in the future that I’m killing.

Look into my eyes, my soul,
tell me everything you see,
as I wrap my arms around,
and drag you screaming down with me.

My Dog Is Not A Snake

A poem inspired by:

 
My dog is not a snake,
let me make that perfectly clear,
and while we’re on the subject,
that guitar is not a beer.

The carpet that you’re standing on,
is not a drinking straw,
and the hole that you just walked through,
aint a pumpkin, it’s a door.

There’s a fine line of distinction,
between a teapot and a rake,
which only serves to clarify,
that my dog is not a snake.

The Answer Is Boobs

A poem about boobs, inspired by…

 
In any question life throws up,
once you’ve analysed the clues,
as unlikely as it seems to be,
the answer is usually boobs.

However profound the question,
however complex the test,
every woman holds the key,
on her double-breasted chest.

You can study ancient manuscripts,
or search for a sign in the stars,
but you’ll see that everything leads you,
to the contents of ladies’ bras.

I Don’t Care How You Are!

A poem inspired by…

 
I’m not looking for a detailed report,
when I ask you how you are,
anything more than a nod and a smile,
is already going too far.

Complaints about your crappy life,
are not what I want to hear,
and I don’t need to know you’re recovering,
from a bad case of diarrhoea.

Just tell me that you’re doing fine,
even if that’s not the case,
or I’ll find it hard to stop myself,
from screaming in your face.

My Memories Of You

A poem inspired by @LoKarloRT:

 
There’s a picture of you,
that I keep in my head,
right next to the sounds,
of the words you said.

It plays back in my mind,
like a Hollywood flick,
but the twist at the end,
always makes me sick.

I’d like to delete them,
get them all out my head,
’til then I’ll just lie here,
and wish you were dead.

Camouflage My Tears

A poem about lost love, inspired by @_JasonRose:

 
The sky has turned the water on,
it fills the space between us,
water slides down past my eyes,
to camouflage my tears.

I stand and watch you walk away,
raindrops drench my face,
deep inside, my broken heart,
is a hollow and empty place.

Finally you’re gone from view,
you’ve taken your love away,
I’ll stand and wait for your return,
on a brighter, sunnier day.

Someone To Insult

I feel like taunting someone,
and being really mean,
it’s just bad luck for you,
that you’re the first one on the scene.

It’s been a difficult morning,
woke on the wrong side of the bed,
I should probably keep my mouth shut,
but I’ll insult you instead.

I’ll start out nice and easy,
with a remark about your weight,
how you seem to be ballooning,
too many pies upon your plate?

I’ll question your personal hygiene,
with some insulting remarks,
and ask if what you’re wearing,
was selected in the dark.

And once that’s out my system,
tears falling as you walk away,
I’ll feel a whole lot better,
and smile for the rest of the day.

Encore

A poem inspired by @JaneDozey:

 
You speak to me,
with silent words,
the sweetest song,
I’ve ever heard.

A captivating,
storyteller,
the purest sound,
an a cappella.

My body listens,
desperate for more,
trembling as you start,
your encore.

Don’t Touch My Ass?

A poem about my ass, inspired by @mllebeckyrose:

 
I can feel you thinking about my ass,
it caught your eye as I wandered past.

It could be the finest ass you’ve seen,
shaped to fit these tight blue jeans.

You’re studying it as you would a map,
could you get away with a cheeky slap?

But you’ll see that if you touch me at all,
you’ll pay for it with a knee to the balls.