His Mother's Best Friend
O’Brien fancied his mother’s best friend,
Mrs O’Hara, she with the daughter
Who showed her panties to boys for sixpence.
How are you, Micheal? She asked, as she sat
With legs crossed in the kitchen between sips
Of milky sweet tea. I’m fine, he replied,
Studying her legs, trying to pursue
With his greedy eyes, the length of her thighs.
How old are you now? Her soft voice inquired.
Fourteen, he replied. He lifted his sight
To her weighty breasts, picturing his head
Wedged tightly between. Don’t sit their gawping,
Go get to your play, his plump mother said.
He took a last look, trying to capture
Mrs O’ Hara with her legs and breasts
And what lay beneath, for his nightly dreams
In his sweaty bed, be they wet or dry,
And gave her a smile and wink of his eye.
poem by Terry Collett
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Related quotes
When Not To Gaze.
Have you read any Kierkegaard?
She asked her blues eyes searching
Yours almost reaching right in and
Making a grab for your soul. No
You replied wondering how many
Guys had spied her breasts tucked
Up neat and tight like some birthday
Gift and not been tempted to reach
And touch. Well you should she said
Better than that Nietzsche or Sartre
And she sat down in the chair by the
Window waving a hand for the waiter
And crossing one leg over the other.
No lady crosses her legs and sits like
That said Mother in your head some
Memory stirred. She ordered for you
Both in her best French and studied
You with silent stare and you trying
Hard not to gaze at her unclothed thighs
Breathed out deep and closed your eyes.
poem by Terry Collett
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Leg
I know your legs are
On the legs of Baali the demon king
I know your legs are
On the head of Bharata your brother
I know your legs are on the
Head of Uddhaba your follower.
You have no leg I heard.
I Know you are present everywhere
Everytime and in everybody.
I do not know what a leg is.
I know the insect has six legs
I know the animal has four legs
I know the bird has two legs.
Your leg is my project paper
I do not know howmany legs you have
I do not know I a leg is.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Famous Movie Poem - French Lieutenant's Woman
from the waves
she comes to your dream
a cauldron of longings
seeking your reassuring touch
thighs, legs, hands, breasts
blowing a tempest
in a bed of passions
please dont hold on to her
when it is over,
the waves will take her
to where she belongs
between the waves,
twinkling lights
charted by the breeze
and stars
the beautiest of passion
is what leaves
a bedfull of memory
which one can hold tightly to
reassuring as a treasure chest
warm as two sworn lovers'
bridge to paradise
legs, thighs,
hands, breasts..
the woman who comes
with a passion
the rolling of
incessant waves
and goes away,
quiet and swift
as a morning star
diluted by light of day
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tea For Three
Hedley's mother had hairy legs.
That's one reason you liked to
go over for tea some days. That
and the fact she wore the kind
of short dress no other women
you knew would wear at least
not in front of minors like yourself
and Hedley. More tea? Cake?
she asked giving you the big smile
and oozing her perfume from her
nearby body. Yes more cake please
and are those salmon sandwiches?
Yes dear and there's plenty more
if you want she replied. She poured tea
and brought more cake and sandwiches
and sat down opposite you and said
how's your mother dear? Oh she's ok
you said gazing dumbly at Hedley's
mother and the way her hands moved
over the plates and held the teapot
with the red fingernails and the rings
on her fingers. Is your husband not here?
you asked. No he's away business calls
and such like she said giving you the smile
and bright eyes. Oh good glad he's got
plenty of work on you replied. Hedley ate
and drank and said little over tea. His
mother ate quite daintily her fingers
holding the cup with her little digit sticking
out as she drank. Ah she said suddenly
I forgot the jelly and ice-cream and off
she walked and you watched as she went.
Her hair legs really grabbed your attention.
Mothers huh? Hedley said. Keeping face
against the odds. Father's probably
screwing his female clients or staying
over in cheap hotels with the red-light girls.
Oh right you said guess some father's do.
Here's the jelly and ice cream Hedley's
mother said on her return hope you like it
she said I like it when it wobbles and the soft
taste on the tongue. Hedley said nothing and
nor did you. You were thinking of Hedley's father
and those cheap hotels and the girls he'd screw.
poem by Terry Collett
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Then even death is worth. [adult contents]
Let me come now to your fortress,
Having blinded your inmates.
Let me encounter you at your door,
And take you by arm to your room
Where let me strip you of your shyness
Along with your blouse and skirt
Against all your seemly protests.
Let me rove your tiny breasts,
Narrow thighs, compressed groin
And pubes to be followed by tongue.
My claws on the imprisoned breasts,
My legs a pillory to lock your legs,
Let me toss you up and down to heaven.
Let me seal your thirst of lust
And put me to rest of quenched lust.
Of consequences is even death.
02.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A little boy came home and told his mother he had gotten first prize in an examination. The question had been How many legs does a horse have He had answered, Three. When his mother asked how he had gotten the first prize, he replied that all the other children had said, Two.
quote by Richard Kehl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Might Have Known
I might have known
said Dotty
I might have known
you were just like
all the rest of men
but
said Brintskin
don't you but me
you slime snake
Mother always said
men weren't
to be trusted
and she was right
I should have listened to her
instead going off with men
at such a young age
but hang on there
Brintskin said
I was getting a lift
in a woman's car
after a hard day's work
sure
Dotty said
sure you were
I know women
and I know men
and what happens
when they get together
and what did she want huh?
want to show you her etchings?
no it wasn't like that at all
she just asked
did I want a lift home
after work and I said yes
Brintskin said
I bet you did
I bet you couldn't
get that word yes out
quick enough
why I bet she had her panties off
before you could blink an eye
and as usual
you had to get
caught out didn't you
and Dotty paused
for a moment
to pour a drink
and sip it
all the while
glaring at Brintskin
and he stared at her
as if she'd changed
into a bullfrog
and then she sighed
and said
well what happened?
nothing happened Sweetie
Brintskin replied
she just offered me
a lift home in her car
and I said yes please
and so she gave me a lift home
Dotty sat down
in the armchair
and crossed her legs
and Brintskin studied her thighs
as the skirt rose up
as she sat down
and Dotty said
ok so maybe I believe you
maybe what you say is true
and I am just getting
the wrong end
of the stick
you sure are
Brintskin said
following the line
of his vision
as far as his eyes
could go
and caught a glimpse
of panty line
whiter than snow.
poem by Terry Collett
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
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Even More Domineering
I love Rudi’s protectiveness, Juliette says
I’m a disgrace to all feminists, I love his
jealousy while Juliette points out that she
is the great beauty, not I, she has the hair,
seriously beautiful hair, long legs and big
blue eyes; while I have soft hair, light-sen-
sitive eyes and short legs and a non-sexy
smile, Juliette has been crowned first
princess in a beauty pageant
She mockingly threatens to steal Rudi from
me, he’s much too handsome and I’m much
too clinging, she says, but I disagree, I asked
him could he have chosen Juliette if he had
met her first, he burst out laughing and said
not on your life, I don’t care for eyes, legs and
hair, but about what’s inside, I asked him if
he loved what’s inside me more
than the outside –
He replied, I love what’s inside AND I adore
the package in which you arrived, he kissed
my non-glamorous hair and my light-sensitive
eyes and said he liked the fire that lived inside,
he kissed my non-sexy smile and said the love
in the line of my lips drove him wild, I asked him
about my being too dependent and forcing him
to be domineering, using Juliette’s arguments;
he decided then and there
To become even more domineering instead
and marched me off to bed…
poem by Louise Tredoux
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You Know Where You Did Despise
You know where you did despise
(Tother day) my little Eyes,
Little Legs, and little Thighs,
And some things, of little Size,
You know where.
You, tis true, have fine black eyes,
Taper legs, and tempting Thighs,
Yet what more than all we prize
Is a Thing of little Size,
You know where.
poem by Alexander Pope
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Hot Legs
(rod stewart)
Whos that knocking on my door
Its gotta be a quarter to four
Is it you again coming round for more
Well you can love me tonight if you want
But in the morning make sure youre gone
Im talkin to you
Hot legs, wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, are you still in school
I love you honey
Gotta most persuasive tongue
You promise all kinds of fun
But what you dont understand
Im a working man
Gonna need a shot of vitamin e
By the time youre finished with me
Im talking to you
Hot legs, youre an alley cat
Hot legs, you scratch my back
Hot legs, bring your mother too
I love you honey
Imagine how my daddy felt
In your jet black suspender belt
Seventeen years old
Hes touching sixty four
You got legs right up to your neck
Youre making me a physical wreck
Im talking to you
Hot legs, in your satin shoes
Hot legs, are you still in school
Hot legs, youre making me a fool
I love you honey
Hot legs, making your mark
Hot legs, keep my pencil sharp
Hot legs, keep your hands to yourself
I love you honey
Hot legs, youre wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, youre still in school
I love you honey
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Are We?
1) Two legs sat upon three legs,
With one leg in his lap;
In comes four legs
And runs away with one leg;
Up jumps two legs,
Catches up three legs,
Throws it after four legs,
And makes him dropp one leg.
What are we?
2) Old Mother Twitchett had but one eye,
And a long tail which she let fly;
And every time she went over a gap,
She left a bit of her tail in a trap.
3) Thirty white horses upon a red hill,
Now they tramp, now they champ, now they stand still.
What are we?
We have nothing to say today
We are being asked
What are we
And we think we are bullied
Because
Because we think we know what we are
Because we think we are the obvious
Plain like blue clouds, blue seas, blue kingfishers
Blue, blues, blue bruises, blue flag,
Blue crayon, blue surplus cars
Electric blue, shades of blue
We are black and blue
We feel blue
We think blue
We are blue.
And the obvious is like the biggest mountain ahead of us
And they ask: what is that?
And they see us
And ask us what are we?
Aren’t they all crazy?
We respect them and tell them nothing.
we have nothing to say forevermore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just For One Night
she is attractive
all the right curves
and a pretty face
she is noticeable
and forgettable
she fills a thought
made in lustful desire
legs, lips, breasts
there's a temptation
or a dream for later on
you do no stare at her
just look over a few times
gathering a picture
thinking something over
sex had its own reasons
for coming and going
often without compassion
that girl, pretty as she is
her legs, lips, breasts
would fill an appetite
just for one night
poem by Matthew Holloway
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My Mother's friend
she has huge breasts,
her skin is dark like tea my mother makes
she sits with my mother in the kitchen talking crap
they have been there for three hours now
I look through the gap in the door and the frame
She is smoking, her lips kiss the cigarette
She is old enough to be my mother
I wish she was sometimes
I would do everything she asked
I wish she was my mother
poem by Robert Cooper
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For the Meeting of Hearts and Lips
Julie took
one of the cigarettes
out of the packet
you had bought
and said
you're too kind
and lit it
with a small
plastic lighter
she took from her bag
you both sat
in a side room
set aside
for patients and guests
just off the drug
dependency ward
she was in
there was a scene
of a few trees
and bushes
from the window
marred by the sight
of the other part
of the hospital
over the way
glad you could come
she said
my parents
won't visit me here
don't they love you?
you asked
it's a matter of what
the neighbours might say
if they found out
I was here
she answered
inhaling deeply
and looking at you
with her dark eyes
her dark hair
was pulled back
in an untidy bun
and the hospital
dressing gown
she wore
was stained
and open
at the neck
and down
revealing a small cleavage
of young pinkish flesh
why did you come?
she asked
I wanted to see you
you replied
none of the others
from the Church come
she said
it's all talk
and promises
and God talk
but none
have come to see me
so far
she inhaled again
and stared out
the window
you studied how
she had crossed
her legs
showing
a glimpse of thigh
where her white
dressing gown
and nightdress
rose high
a nurse entered the room
and said
would you like tea
or coffee?
yes
Julie said
two coffees please
and the nurse
went out and off
her feet pitter
pattering down
the corridor
through the half
open door
I'm lucky here
she said
some druggies
get shoved in mental wards
or poked in
psychiatric units
with other
damaged goods
it seems ok
you replied
lifting your eyes
from her thighs
to her face
pure in its makeup
less state
and dark eyes
19 years young
she said
and already buggered up
as my father has said
I'm sure they love you
in their way
you said
taking in her neck
and the run
of her chin
and her mouth
with the small
moving lips
the nurse came in
with a tray
with two mugs
of white coffee
and a bowl
of brown sugar
and set it down
on the small grey table
and walked out
my parents love me
as property
not as a person
she said
uncrossing
her legs
and lifting a mug
and taking small sips
and oh you thought
(lifting a mug
and drinking)
for the meeting
of our hearts
and lips.
poem by Terry Collett
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I Have A Friend
I have a friend who cannot walk
I have a friend all he does is talk
I have a friend, Philippe is his name
I have a friend and we are just the same
I have a friend he’s seventeen years old
I have a friend who has a heart of gold
I have a friend who would catch me if I fall
It is only that he has no legs at all
I have a friend and when my friend was seven
A car ran over him and he almost went to heaven
I have a friend with a smile that I adore
I have a friend who lives in a house of four
I have a friend his family is his home
I have a friend who dreams of visiting Rome
I have a friend who is still finishing school
Yet some people tell him that for that he is a fool
I have a friend they say he is disabled
He has no legs and for that he is labeled
I have a friend who has a friend
They were made for each other; their love will never end
I have a friend who likes to name the stars
I have a friend and what he hates is cars
I have a friend who’s happier than you and me
I have a friend who’s shown me how happy I can be
I have a friend who’s had his bad times too
I have a friend who’s better than me and you
I have a friend so dear to me and kind
That another one like him I shall never find!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
One Summer 1958
You sat with Fay that summer day
on the flat concrete roof
of the World War Two bomb shelter
down below the tall flats
where you both lived
and you said
do you want to go
to the movies with me?
she looked across
at the coal depot
with its trucks loading
and unloading
I don't have no money
she replied
you looked at her
my dad'll pay
you said
he's always giving me money
for the movies
she shook her head
and you looked ahead
at the sun shining above
the rain tracks
over the coal depot
you had on your blue jeans
and white tee shirt
and she you noticed
turning your head
had a red and white dress
which came just over her knees
and she wore sandals
on bare feet
besides my mother wants me
so she can see me
Fay said with a sigh
she raised and lowered
her legs against
the concrete wall
her sandals making
tapping noises
as they hit the wall
and you noticed bruises
along her thigh
as she moved
and her dress rode higher
what are those bruises
on your leg?
you asked
she looked down
and stopped moving her legs
and pulled her dress hem
over her knees and thighs
I fell
she replied
down the stairs
you looked at her arms
where other fading bruises
blended into her skin
like worn-out badges
we can see a Western film
you said
I'm sure
there's a Jeff Chandler film
so my dad tells me
but she shook her head
too violent
Mother says
Fay uttered looking away
but there's kissing stuff too
you added
Fay looked at you
her blue eyes
moving over you
like a smoothing
palm of a hand
I'm not allowed
to go to the movies
Daddy says
its sinful and only
wicked people
go there
to be tempted
by the Devil
she sighed
and you both sat in silence
for a while
watching pigeons fly
in the blue summer sky
then she turned quickly
and kissed your cheek
and said
don't have to go
to no movie
to see kissing
and you thought
of the boring bits in films
where the cowboy
gets kissed by the girl
after a gun shoot out
and having been kissed
by Fay
you were glad
and guessed that kissing
wasn't at all
too bad.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over His Latte.
He's only just sat down
in the cafe when she enters
and stands at the counter
waiting to be served. He lets
his latte settle. Allows his
eyes to scrutinize. The waitress
serves the woman in the white
hat and black dress. He notes
her fine figure, the low cut at
the neck, the thin straps over
shoulders. He tries to breathe
in from where he sits her perfume,
but it doesn't come. The woman
orders an espresso and says it
with an Italian accent. He follows
her with his eyes as she walks
to a table alone. She looks like a
girl Modigliani would have painted.
She looks at her watch and then
around the room of the cafe.
She crosses her legs, one over
the other, thigh revealed. He sips
his latte. Wipes his lips with the
back of his hand. Bad habit, mother
would have slapped his hand as a
child once. The waitress delivers
the woman's coffee; he notes the
waitress's fine behind, the hands
serving, the legs touching together.
Then she's gone. Just the woman
in the white hat to study. The way
she lifts the small white cup to her
mouth, her fingers holding delicately,
as if afraid to break. Get a life Brody
would say if he were there. But he's not;
he's away with that girl from the office,
having a lay. The woman in the hat
stares at him, her eyes devour, her lips
part like legs before sex. She looks boringly
away. He sips more latte. He doesn't like
her white hat or black dress anyway.
poem by Terry Collett
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Legs
She's got legs,
she knows how to use them.
She never begs,
she knows how to choose them.
She's holding legs,
wonderin' how to feel them.
Would you get behind them,
if you could only find them?
She's my baby,
she's my baby.
It's alright,
it's alright,
it's alright,
alright.
She's got hair down to her fanny.
She's kinda jet set,
try undo her panties.
Everytime she's dancing;
she knows what to do.
Everybody wants to see,
to see if she can use it.
She's so fine,
she's all mine.
You've got it right,
so right,
you got right.
She's got legs,
she knows how to use them.
She never fakes,
she knows how to choose them.
She's got a dime, all of the time.
Stays out at night moving... through time
Oh I want her,
so i've got to have her
That girl's alright,
She's alright,
She's alright,
right, right, right.
song performed by by Kid Rock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Her Brothers Were Away.
When Monica asked
if she could go with you
and her brothers
bike riding
her mother said
no you're too young
or if she asked
to go with you
and Jim and Pete
to the cinema
to see the latest
Elvis flick
her mother said
definitely not
it's not for young girls
and Monica'd storm indoors
slamming the door
shouting I hate you all
but when you called one day
and her brothers were out
(gone to see their big brother
about some old motorbike)
her mother said
yes come in and wait
and Monica was
pleased as Punch
especially when
her mother said
you could stay to lunch
and I can show you
over the place
Monica said
and after lunch maybe
we can go for a bike ride
along the small lanes
and maybe you
could show me
some judo moves
and her mother said
we'll see I'm not sure
Benedict will want
to do those kind
of things with a girl
and went off
to make lunch
and Monica showed you
all over the house
whose room was whose
and up in the attic
she said
this is my room
and took your hand
and took you
to the window
and said
see the view I've got?
Isn't it the best?
and you said
yes it's good
and you took in the view
and looking around
the room you saw her bed
and the big pink elephant
there by the wall
staring at you
and she said
that's Pinkie
isn't she great?
sure
you said
and she took you
down the stairs
to the kitchen for lunch
and her mother
chatted away
about her sons
and Monica sat there
gawking at you
her eyes studying
each aspect of you
her eyes large
as saucers
blue and beautiful
and after lunch
you showed her
a few judo moves
which she loved
especially when
your hands moved her
and you sensed
her almost ready
to burst with joy
and just before
you were ready
to go for a ride
on the bikes
her brothers came
and shooed her away
and she went off
giving them the evil eye
but you she gave
the young girl wink
the we know
what they don't smile
and off you rode
with her brothers
but she kept
those moments with you
(to herself)
as if you were
Romeo and Juliet
fond lovers.
poem by Terry Collett
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