A Bit of Advice to a Bit of a Stud
Are you dreaming of a new romance
Or is that a pistol in your pants?
Judging by the way you swagger
You'd think you have a RIGHT to shag her! !
She, of course, is far less willing
Unless she thinks she can make a killing,
Unless you're rich, in other words,
Which is typical of bloody birds! !
Unfortunately, you don't have a penny
So Sarah, Anne, Denise or Jenny
Will not be opening their door
Like any tart or little whore.
You'll have to offer something more
Than just a romp between the sheets
With a guy who prowls the city streets! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison

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From Sarah With Love
[Verse 1:]
For so many years we were friends
And yes I always knew what we could do
But so many tears in the rain
Felt the night you said
That love had come to you
I thought you were not my kind
I thought that I could never feel for you
The passion and love you were feeling
And so you left
For someone new
And now that you're far and away
I'm sending a letter today
[Chorus:]
From Sarah with love
She'd got the lover she is dreaming of
She never found the words to say
But I know that today
She's gonna send her letter to you
From Sarah with love
She took your picture to the stars above
And they told her it is true
She could dare to fall in love with you
So don't make her blue when she writes to you
From Sarah with love
[Verse 2:]
So maybe the chance for romance
Is like a train to catch before it's gone
And I'll keep on waiting and dreaming
You're strong enough
To understand
As long as you're so far away
I'm sending a letter each day
[Chorus]
[Last chorus:]
From Sarah with love
She'd got the lover she is dreaming of
She never found the words to say
But I know that today
She's gonna send her letter to you
From Sarah with love
She's gotta know what you are thinking of
'Cause every little now and then
And again and again
I know her heart cries out for you
From Sarah with love
She'd got the lover she is dreaming of
Never found the words to say
song performed by by Sarah Connor from Green Eyed Soul

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Little Drummer Boy
Come, they told me, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
The newborn king youll see, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom.
Our finest gifts we bring, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
To lay before the king, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
Pa-romp-pa-pom-pom, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
So to honor him, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom, when we come.
Little baby, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
I am a poor boy too, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
I have no gift to bring, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
That fit to give our king, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
Pa-romp-pa-pom-pom, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom,
So to honor him, pa-romp-pa-pom-pom, Ill play my drum.
Come, they....
Little baby....
song performed by by New Kids On The Block

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The DirtyWhore
The Dirty Whore
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
With her heavy hips and juicy lips
She is bound by her pimp who gives her, her daily dose
Crack Coke heroine or lsd
In them she her emotions pores
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
As she tickles your dick and gives you new kicks
Biting down your balls to take it all
She massages your chest as she bears her breasts
Coming close yet staying a far
As her panties she removes to make new moves
Saddeling up your prick up and down she rolls
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Her job is tough her beat is rough
Pimps and pushers her companions at night
She dines with gangsters and cops alike
Getting paid well and getting beaten at times
Taking pills to giving new thrills
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Either at street corners, in bazaar's or mandi's
My friends you are bound to meet this raandi
500 for a blow 5000 for a shag
She even carries rubbers in her bag
To please you is her job
But you of your morality she will rob
Beware of the whore the dirty little whore
poem by Anuj Tikku

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Jenny
(orbison)
Ken cook
Oh Im thinking tonight of my jenny
Who has gone far away now from me
Oh.Im thinking tonight of my jenny
And I wonder if she ever thinks of me?
Long ago we were strollin together
All the shores and the drive-ins we did see
Now she spends all her time with another
But I wonder if she ever thinks of me?
Oh Im thinking tonight of my jenny
Who has gone far away now from me
Oh.Im thinking tonight of my jenny
And I wonder if she ever thinks of me?
Oh Im thinking tonight of my jenny
Who has gone far away now from me
Oh.Im thinking tonight of my jenny
And I wonder if she ever thinks of me?
song performed by by Roy Orbison

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Cotton Jenny
Theres a house on a hill
By a worn down weathered old mill
In the valley below where the river winds
Theres no such thing as bad times
And a soft southern flame
Oh cotton jennys her name
She wakes me up when the sun goes down
And the wheels of love go round
Wheels of love go round
Love go round, love go round
A joyful sound
I aint got a penny for cotton jenny to spend
But then the wheels go round
When the new day begins
I go down to the cotton gin
And I make my time worth while to them
Then I climb back up again
And she waits by the door
Oh cotton jenny Im sore
And she rubs my feet while the sun goes down
And the wheels of love go round
Wheels of love go round
Love go round, love go round
A joyful sound
I aint got a penny for cotton jenny to spend
But then the wheels go round
In the hot, sickly south
When they say well shut my mouth
I can never be free from the cotton grind
But I know I got whats mine
Shes a soft southern flame
Oh cotton jennys her name
She wakes me up when the sun goes down
And the wheels of love go round
Wheels of love go round
Love go round, love go round
A joyful sound
I aint got a penny for cotton jenny to spend
But then the wheels go round
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot

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Buddhist Lesson # 2
enlightment,
the act of opening,
like a rosebud,
like a mother,
opening the door...
like a child
opening a present,
like a woman
opening to a man....
opening...
all the hidden chambers,
every door to every
secret kingdom of the soul.....
opening the box that holds
your secret thoughts, desires....
opening...
the door of the cage,
letting the winged breath fly....
opening....
your heart to itself,
and to all hearts beating....
opening....
the vault of conceptions,
the entrance to the tomb
of past lives and memories....
opening...
your hands to the world
as if it were your neighbor,
and you, it's home!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Romance Bore Seduction
Hand blessed hand, caressed.
A blushing rose, her face;
Her breast alive;
The elfin nose, a diamond set -
A kiss upon perfection
Bore a rise of pulse
To coach a sultry moan
Across a mellow breath of wine.
He knew; he sensed,
And easing loose a clasp of lace,
Another sign of her relenting:
Wild the play of eyes,
A fuller glide of skin;
He felt the now begin -
Her swell, intention in the sigh.
And so to hedge his move upon the cue -
The cry of deep anticipation,
Waxing all he saw -
Tho' not for us to view -
Arrived, emotion raw.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Now render to caressing waves of romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Jenny Happy Birthday
Jenny happy birthday
God will bless you today
Happy birthday lucky Jenny
MAY YOU EARN MORE THAN A PENNY
JENNY HAPPY BIRTHDAY
MAY YOUR LIFE BE OKAY
JENNY HAPPY BIRTHDAY
May your beauty grow and stay
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRETTY JENNY
HAVE YOUR LIFE GROW STRONG AS A TREE
TODAY IS YOUR BIRTHDAY
OH YES, WHAT A CHEERFUL DAY
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET JENNY
HAPPY BIRTHDAY With ALL MY HEART
SORRY FOR BEING AN ANNOYING SIMPSOM BART
MAY THE LORD BRING YOU SUCCESS
EVEN THOUGH LIFE IS A GAME OF CHESS
IT IS GREAT TO BE LOVED
poem by Gregory PierreJerome

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Jenny Dreamed Of Trains
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
When jenny was a little girl, she only dreamed of trains
She never played with dolls or lacy kinds of things
Jenny counted boxcars instead of counting sheep
She could go anywhere when she went to sleep
All she ever talked about was getting on to ride
She was living in another time you could see it in her eyes
And every day after school shed head down to the track
Waiting for the train that was never coming back
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
The depots been boarded up, the rails have turned to rust
There hasnt been a train through here since the mill went bust
No one believed her when she said she heard the train
Said she was just a little girl acting kind of strange
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Jenny laid a penny on the track one day
In God we trust she walked away
The very next morning all she could find
Was a little piece of copper squashed flatter than a dime
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Words and music by vince gill and guy clark
song performed by by John Denver

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Adolescent hormones…
I have a devil in my pants
With a three pronged lance
Look here? Look there?
Look everywhere?
The whores of Babylon
And the wenches of France
Are serving up a dance
In my pants, in my pants
In my pants,
Yet; my heart wants romance.
poem by Mark Heathcote

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The Tale of Thomas Fell
Here is a tale that I will tell
About a boy called Thomas Fell,
And of the girl he loved so well,
His dearest darling Jenny.
He knew her from his childhood days,
He knew her thoughts, he knew her ways,
He lived in love's romantic haze,
But didn't have a penny.
To win her was his only thought,
So money therefore must be sought,
And then the flowers could be bought
And Jenny would be happy.
He explored every avenue,
And searched from here to Timbuktu,
His time was short and Tommy knew
He'd have to make it snappy.
If he should fail to raise the cash,
His hopes and dreams would all be dashed:
His foe would be in like a flash,
His morals were so shoddy.
'That other boy who's called Andrew,
He says he loves my Jenny too;
He says he'll take her to the zoo,
Hu... over my dead body! '
'If I see him I'm telling you
I'll beat him 'til he's black and blue;
His love for Jenny can't be true
He's nothing but a fake.
I've always loved her, always will,
I'd fight for her, I'd even kill;
I'll get that bunch of daffodils
No matter what it takes.'
A penny here, a penny there,
He walked to school to save the fare,
At last he had the money there,
Safe in his hiding place.
It meant so much, this grand surprise,
He longed to see, in Jenny's eyes,
Reward for all his enterprise:
A smile upon her face.
The flowers looked so very grand,
He placed them gently in her hands,
And told her of his wedding plans,
Then held her close and kissed her.
His eyes were moist and filled with wonder,
But Jenny's heart was rent asunder:
'Oh Tom, you've made an awful blunder,
You can't... 'cause I'm your sister! '
Written Sept 1994
poem by John Carter Brown

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What Forest Gump Really Wanted to Say
Lt. Dan…This here is my Jenny.
She's a sluts.
I like sluts Lt. Dan.
There the only kind that will sleep with me.
My Jenny doesn't smell like cigarettes.
I hate cigarettes.
I like chocolate.
Some women are like chocolate Lt. Dan.
I like when my Jenny wears her guitar.
She plays real well.
But I don't like it when she plays me.
My Jenny's a whore.
But I like whores Lt. Dan.
I like shrimp.
But I don't like crabs.
My Jenny always tries to give me crabs.
Remember when I got shot in the buttock, Lt. Dan?
I don't like things in my ass.
But my Jenny does...you know why, Lt. Dan?
'Cause she's a hoe.
I like Dark chocolate Lt. Dan.
But my great-great-grandfather doesn't like dark chocolate.
He founded the KKK.
They wear them pretty hoods.
I wanted to join a club too like my grand-dad.
But the Panthers said I was a cracker and couldn't join.
I like crackers Lt. Dan.
Crackers are better than crabs.
poem by Snake Blocker

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He asked me if I'd take a penny for my thoughts.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
and I told him the things on my mind.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I had thought then I'd be paid in kind.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
and the closest friends we came to be.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I thought then the one he cared for, was me.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
now rich with my thoughts he was.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I thought his reason was more than 'just because'.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
he's made me rich with a broken heart.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
now my life has a broken start.
Romance In Your Pants
Romance In Your Pants….,
Most times you can tell….,
With only a glance….,
But love can’t advance…..,
Unless you take the chance….,
And proceed to dance…..! ! !
So whatever sex you may be….,
I know you’ll handle it gracefully….,
Cause no matter what the circumstance….,
There’s no doubt…..,
That you’ve got Romance In Your Pants….! ! !
.
poem by Trade Martin

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A Child Again
I'm a child again,
as memories come flooding back.
Here I am standing outside my old school
which is due to be demolished for something more modern.
Nobody's about, all is silence, except for the birds
chattering away in the same old Elm tree
which still stands against the side of the bicycle shed.
Such a strange feeling, something I can't describe.
I lift the latch on the gate, and walk through
into the playground, and pause awhile.
Voices seem to echo in the air around me.
Ah! Sarah, the noisy one with the ginger hair, into every scrape,
always a whirlwind. Unstoppable was Sarah.
Robert the shy, reserved one. Never mixed much, a bit of a loner really.
I heard somewhere, that he'd become a lawyer or something.
And, Yes. Jenny. Who could forget Jenny.
Jenny McKenny, who was clever at everything,
always laughing, always smiling, always your friend.
I wonder where they are now.
All have gone forever.
A terrible loneliness is creeping over me.
Why did I come. To refresh my memories, perhaps,
some bad, some good.
So long ago now, that they all feel good to me,
tinged with a sadness in my heart for what has been.
I'm reliving those memories of when I was a child,
with the hopes and thoughts of a child.
Moving towards the gate, unthinking as usual.
I'm forgetting to close it
like I used to do all those years ago.
I must turn around and close it now
And then there was our teacher, Mrs Saunders.
Oh My! What's this, a tear? .
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Typical Situation
Ten fingers counting we have each nine planets
Around the sun repeat
Eight ball the last if you triumphant be seven oceans - pummel
The shores of the sea
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices, hey yeah
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices ell
Everybodys happy everybodys free
Keep the big door open, everyonell come around
Whyre you different, why are you that way
If you dont get in line well lock you away
It all comes down to nothing
Six senses feeling five around a sense of self
Four season turn on n turn off
I can see three corners from this corner
Twos a perfect number
But one, well
Everybodys happy everybodys free
Well keep the big door open, everyonell come around
Why are you different, why you that way
If you dont get in line well lock you away,
Aow everybodys happy everybodys free
Well keep the big door open, everyonell come around
Why are you different, why are you that way
If you dont get in line well lock you away(-way fades out)
It all comes down to nothing (hey ___hey__hey)
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices, hey yaa
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices
We cant do a thing about it
Too many choices, hey yaa
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices yeah
Everybodys happy everybodys free
Well keep the big door open, everyonell come around
Why are you different, why you that way
If you dont get in line well lock you away,
Aow everybodys happy everybodys free
Well keep the big door open, everyonell come around
Why are you different, why are you that way
If you dont get in line well lock you away
(aoowwwaaaah) (solo throughout)
It all comes down to nothing
It all comes down to nothing
It all comes aaw everybodys happy everybodys free
Well keep the big door open, everyonell come around
Why are you different, why you that way
If you dont get in line well lock you away
It all comes down to nothing (hey ___hey__hey)
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices, hey yeah
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices
We cant do a thing about it
Too many choices, hey yeah
Its a typical situation in these typical times
Too many choices
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band

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The Indian Myna
Gimme the town an' its clamour an' clutter;
I ain't very fond of the bush;
For my cobbers are coves of the gardens and gutter-
A tough metropolitan push.
I ain't never too keen on the countryfield life;
It's the hustle an' bustle for me an' me wife.
So I swagger an' strut an' I cuss an' I swagger;
I'm wise to the city's hard way.
A bit of a bloke an' a bit of a bragger;
I've always got plenty to say.
Learned thro' knockin' about since my people came out
From the land at the back of Bombay.
When out in the bush I am never a ranger;
There never ain't nothin' to see.
Besides, them bush birds got no time for a stranger;
So town an' the traffic for me.
I sleep in the gardens an' loaf in the street,
An' sling off all day at the fellers I meet.
An' I swagger an' scold an' strut an' I swagger,
An' pick up me fun where I can,
Or tell off me wife, who's a bit of a nagger,
Or scrap with the sparrers for scran.
A bonzer at bluffin', I give you my word,
For, between you an' me, I'm a pretty tough bird.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Happy Anniversary
Open the naive door
Lovers without a real core
Paint your sordid refrain
Love sighs like a lions mane
Chaos on the moonlight sheets
We meet and die on frozen streets
Now you come again with dyed hair
Look into my hollow stare
We grovel in holes of rodents
Do we have love in ideal moments
No, we are the living end
I lay you without pretense
Have we broken all the rules
You wear your rubies and jewels
I hear your knock on my door
The dead come back for more
I bought you a box of chocolates
Happy anniversary my sweet whore
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Regional Girl
(micky dolenz)
Micky dolenz music (bmi)
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Shes a regional girl
Come to the big city
Give it a whirl
She thinks that she can make it
She thinks that she can take it
I think shes gonna end up makin burgers in a basement
Shes a regional girl
Hes a regional guy
Come to the big city give it a try
He wants to be a mover
Yea, he wants to shake it up
I think hes gonna end up pourin pepsi in a cup
cause its a regional lie
Its a regional lie
Mary mary, mississippi, indiana jones
Did you think that you could really make it on your own?
A singin whoa oh oh oh
Whoa oh oh oh
Eddie, eddie, good and ready, now you got your chance
Try to keep the little buggers playin with your pants
A singin whoa oh oh oh
Whoa oh oh oh
Its a regional lie
The grass is always green
And the coke is purified
You wanna hit the big time
Yea, you wanna strike it rich
I think youre gonna end up bakin burgers for some bitch
Mary mary, mississippi, indiana jones
Did you think that you could really make it on your own?
A singin whoa oh oh oh
Whoa oh oh oh
Eddie, eddie, good and ready, now you got your chance
Try to keep the little buggers playin with your pants
A singin whoa oh oh oh
Whoa oh oh oh
Its a regional lie
The grass is always green
And the coke is purified
You wanna hit the big time
Yea, you wanna strike it rich
I think youre gonna end up bakin burgers for some bitch
cause its a regional lie
Its a regional lie
song performed by by Monkees

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