Poetry Round Robin

[Bronte]

How you tease and tangle
me in a web of illicit cooing
froing, and toing the fantastic.
Trip across and skip my heartbeat
a tango of moves to groove you;
play a while, stay and slay the clay
man me up buttercup and see the display.
bangers, rockets on fire, the works.

*clapping* I will be back

[billy]

i'll try and do one a day till others join in

[Bronte]

i'll try and do one a day till others join in

well it's them missingv all the fun. I'm cooking dinner!

[billy]

it's taking an awfully long time

[Bronte]

it's taking an awfully long time

yes!! bank reconciliations, still not balanced.. #$%%&^&%

[Leanne]

Cooing and toing and grooving with buttercup --
what are you? Pigeon or pageanted cow?
Move up the wooing to promise some doing,
else ask an expert to show you how now.
Look at the lady, she's drowning in paperwork:
find her a eunuch to fix up her sums,
he'll turn away while you hitch up her draperwork
skirts and unburden your purpled-up plums...

[Bronte]

Cooing and toing and grooving with buttercup --
what are you? Pigeon or pageanted cow?
Move up the wooing to promise some doing,
else ask an expert to show you how now.
Look at the lady, she's drowning in paperwork:
find her a eunuch to fix up her sums,
he'll turn away while you hitch up her draperwork
skirts and unburden your purpled-up plums...

thats scary!!



Today it was moving and sliding and lifting
Making spaces in places that bits had gone from
Pulling up carpets relaying in stages
back into the best spot where they seem to belong
Was painting in purple , the boys room in circles
with strips all in silver and black all the rage
he’s thirteen , I’m wondering about his real age.


michelle kept remining me . " dont forget mother, you are on the 5 step ladder" as if I would step back off a 2nd time!!

[Leanne]

I was never thirteen. There was a year
the cosmos folded; now I'm older I can see
that the warp of tongue and tree
made a knot of normalcy
and unraveled. I have lived
the years that matter, but the
scattered light and logic
took a foot and then another
from the soil and stage to smother
days that shattered into months
meant for someone else: the scene
was cut. I breathed and bowed,
but I was never thirteen.

[Bronte]

I was never thirteen. There was a year
the cosmos folded; now I'm older I can see
that the warp of tongue and tree
made a knot of normalcy
and unraveled. I have lived
the years that matter, but the
scattered light and logic
took a foot and then another
from the soil and stage to smother
days that shattered into months
meant for someone else: the scene
was cut. I breathed and bowed,
but I was never thirteen.

now thats a bloody keeper and I can see it expaned into other ages.. see what you can do with three, twenty three and as many threes as you can count up to.. it will be killer or twos, or nines!! just let rip

back to painting. I'm acheing

[billy]

I knew fourteen, but that wasn't my year.
My time came twelve months later in the spring
a walking hard-on made to share with girls;
not the ones with cutesy curls; but open legs.
Their trembled tears ran down and stained the grass.
They said they loved me, but of course they would,
I'd taken what they thought was theirs to give
and saw my name on desktops more than once;
a scratched initial in a wonky heart.
To know them as I did was just a game;
my pawns to move between and lose at will.
I laid them out across the board to play
and slaughtered them because i was a king.
cruelty and happiness at fifteen.

[Bronte]

I knew fourteen, but that wasn't my year.
My time came twelve months later in the spring
a walking hard-on made to share with girls;
not the ones with cutesy curls; but open legs.
Their trembled tears ran down and stained the grass.
They said they loved me, but of course they would,
I'd taken what they thought was theirs to give
and saw my name on desktops more than once;
a scratched initial in a wonky heart.
To know them as I did was just a game;
my pawns to move between and lose at will.
I laid them out across the board to play
and slaughtered them because i was a king.
cruelty and happiness at fifteen.

yes this one works but I tripped up on line 12

I wanted another beat and image as so!!and but Im really enjoying reading you two .. ps THE king not A king . there can only be one , right?



To know them as I did was just a game;
my pawns to move between and lose at will.
I laid them across the board to play to kill
and slaughtered them because i was the king.


edit PS but I also see that it knocks you feet out from under you too! .so ignor me .

[Bronte]

a piss poor effort at end of day. but billys game board tugged



Again Another battle

You understood the rules the ploys and plays
You left this rook unmoved and all alone
The best defense is silence this I know
And thrice I nearly came to blows
That queen you dallied with took aim
She had me in her sights my blood ran cold
The castle at my back in ruinous stones
I swore in mock defiance you would atone
You lunged you blew a kiss and traveled on
Into the outer reaches of your realm
And all to lay a queen beyond your reach
And kill a king that you might learn
The rules are there to play the game
Where winners win and losers gain.

[billy]

rather a crude write, hope it doesn't offend

Master class

Those brittle game's on little boards a battle?
No! Now I like to hoist my boisterous block
and tackle. Dangled hi then lowered down
your body fights and curses in distress.
The hook, the chains removed; that's when you play.
no castle, crown or plastic counter here;
it's Tooth and claw you like, and so do I.
The pound of ragged flesh you strip away
from neck and back. The bloody bitten lips.
With knees spread wide you bounce and crush my balls
and swear allegiance to my hairy cock
but not before you rake my hairless chest.
You leave, the deed is done, your'e on your way,
and as you go, you whisper "that's check mate."

[Bronte]

rather a crude write, hope it doesn't offend

Master class

Those brittle game's on little boards a battle?
No! Now I like to hoist my boisterous block
and tackle. Dangled hi then lowered down
your body fights and curses in distress.
The hook, the chains removed; that's when you play.
no castle, crown or plastic counter here;
it's Tooth and claw you like, and so do I.
The pound of ragged flesh you strip away
from neck and back. The bloody bitten lips.
With knees spread wide you bounce and crush my balls
and swear allegiance to my hairy cock
but not before you rake my hairless chest.
You leave, the deed is done, your'e on your way,
and as you go, you whisper "that's check mate."

holy fuck! and that's no pun.. lol you are really on a roll. good work

[billy]

anything that gets an expletive in the reply is doing it's job

[poetsorrow]

nice flow to this write keep up the good work

[Leanne]

nice flow to this write keep up the good work

You're obviously trying to get involved in the site but generic comments like this that show you haven't read what's going on aren't really all that well thought of here.

Please do keep commenting, but please make an effort to actually read the posts.

[billy]

so is anyone else interested in playing the round robin? just use the poem below as a sounding board, or do something completely different and start another one it's for fun so don't worry about being critiqued, it won't be

Master class

Those brittle game's on little boards a battle?
No! Now I like to hoist my boisterous block
and tackle. Dangled hi then lowered down
your body fights and curses in distress.
The hook, the chains removed; that's when you play.
no castle, crown or plastic counter here;
it's Tooth and claw you like, and so do I.
The pound of ragged flesh you strip away
from neck and back. The bloody bitten lips.
With knees spread wide you bounce and crush my balls
and swear allegiance to my hairy cock
but not before you rake my hairless chest.
You leave, the deed is done, your'e on your way,
and as you go, you whisper "that's check mate."

[Leanne]

I'm still recovering from the mental scarring imposed by the block and tackle imagery.

---

The poetry has slowed down to a trickle,
the tackle left without the slightest tickle --
the hairy cock has blocked all inspiration,
its only swelling caused by inflammation.

[billy]

fear not my fir tree, hear the trickle roar
again the torrent spurts through hills
and valley trembles, waiting to be
awash and tremulous inflamed once more
opened wide and central split she concedes
to rush of traffic flowing between her