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Near the Knuckle
is an anthology of liberated verse by Ken Wood.
It is hoped to produce it as a book in due course. If you enjoy the poetry, why not send a note to the author by email to hello@scribblingrivalry.com, who will forward your comments.
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I haven’t had it up since I just can’t remember when, Recalling how it used to be, so long and straight back then. But now it’s short and stumpy and it sits inside a zip. No need to wipe it dry or even let it stand and drip.
It’s best if touched by wetness, when it rises from the dead. It springs up just like magic – higher than my head. It makes just such a statement: it speaks so much of me. Persona quite laid bare, for all the world to see.
But that was long ago. It’s not been thus a good long while. It’s not come even close. The memory makes me smile. I really miss the feeling being snug inside its cup. I wish it soon would rain so I can put my brolly up!
© Ken Wood 2005
The Modern MissShe’s sassy and she’s kind of fun. she wears a beaming smile When she walks in the room, the other girls all run a mile! She’s blonde right to the very end of her much darker roots. Her legs look very sexy in her snake-skin cowboy boots. She’s all fur coat and no knickers on. She does things her own way. She likes to flash her wares around to lead the men astray
And if she wears a skirt, it’s always tiny, round her hips, And ‘cos she wears no knickers you can always read her lips! A guy once said she looked fantastic in her fake fur thong. She said, “Hey, mister, you just couldn’t be more f***ing wrong!” She’s all fur coat and no knickers on . . . . .
She doesn’t own a bra at all. She lets her tits hang free. Her nipples stand like champagne corks, erect expectantly, Protruding from her beautifully shaped and curving breasts. She’s also known to use them to repel unwanted guests. She’s all fur coat and no knickers on . . . . .
While other girls will peck your cheek, their arms around you flung, Our modern miss will do her best to choke you with her tongue. She carries condoms in her bag, because she likes the guys She always has them handy just in case the need should rise. She’s all fur coat and no knickers on . . . . .
She only drinks champagne. She says the bubbles make her sin, And any man who buys a bottle finds himself straight in. He’ll realise immediately he’s come to the right place. She loves to see men pop their corks and feel spray on her face. She’s all fur coat and no knickers on . . . . .
© Ken Wood 2004
The morning afterShe wakes up. God! Her head hurts! What a night that must have been! Oh God! A man! She wonders who and have they been obscene? He’s rather nice. She hopes so, but you never know these days. With AIDS and other STDs it’s led men to strange ways.
There was a time when falling drunk into a bed ensured A shag or two, a blow job and all kinds of things so rude But nowadays it’s odd but you can spend the whole night long In bed quite nude alongside this cute guy with gorgeous dong.
A bit of snogging, foreplay, groping at each other’s bits Their hands upon each other’s parts, him kissing at her tits, He asks her if she has a condom so they can proceed?” She says she hasn’t but still wants to do the lovely deed.
He says they better not. It isn’t safe at all, you know. Then falls asleep without a word and leaves her still aglow And nothing happens. What a waste! He might as well be gay. She does so miss getting rogered in the good old-fashioned way!
© Ken Wood 2004
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