Haiku

cupid shoots arrows
doing far more harm to hearts
than a simple fuck
 
our prime minister
screws us all for his masters,
his balls in a vise
 
The Time of Blonde Men:
Large with power, small elsewhere...
Ill-placed in all things.
 
(without consent too -
her lawyer was there, watching,
camera in hand)
 
that said... lisa's fruit
looked beautiful between paul's
sweet distended lips
 
You Wanna Join Us For A Foursome?

Those three naked chicks
on that bed noticed that my
dick had shot straight up.
 
the dart board, maybe
a one and a treble six
and a final bull
 
Fifty-two degrees.
But a cock of proper weight
Should dip lower still.
 
(German six perhaps...
but the darts all added up
to sweet sixty-nine

ahh, the thought of heels
if sky high and well designed
leaves me a-trembling...

no, five-seven-five
traps an unwary poet -
even I struggle)

yes, let's talk degrees!
I have learned more on my knees
than from the lectern
 
having ignored her
for (and with) a goodly length
I condescended
 
Rigid structure makes
The talented struggle
To keep making sense

Be it iambic
pentameter, haiku, but
never for blank verse

Now, if the poet can
excite the senses, drive mind
to specified goals?

That is the purpose,
the raison d'etre, the goal
of Poetry itself
 
There are special times
When knees let pleasure come FROM
Within a lectern.
 
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