If you call this debauchery
you've lived a life serene;
this is mild compared to what
this forum's previously seen.

I’m still stuck on “concupiscent,”
And have been for several days,
But now I recall just what it meant
And where I encountered the phrase.
It’s an “Emperor of Ice Cream” word,
The tone was misanthropical,
Though it would’ve been “concupiscent Kurds,”
Had the poet been more topical.



[This message has been edited by FOsen (edited April 10, 2003).]

I’m called upon to answer
some questions I can not,
like who’s the versed romancer
and whether hell’s too hot…

well, wink at whom you will
and fuss too much for Gus,
just right your rimes and shill;
no one will mind a cuss.



------------------
zz

Having seen the fair island of Zenda
Ireland can crumble apart;
for she holds me there, as a prisoner
though not bodily, but chained 'round my heart.

*wink*



[This message has been edited by Jerry Glenn Hartwig (edited April 11, 2003).]

From Tinkerbell
to kiss and tell
– by way of hell

:P

Oh! What despairing agony!
That I should get such sass;
I thought Cupid struck my heart,
but it merely pains my derriere.




[This message has been edited by Jerry Glenn Hartwig (edited April 12, 2003).]

Oh woe is me,
Alas alack,
My Irish roots are under attack,

Funny versing,
Jerry winking,
These have really got me thinking,

Do I submit,
To this flirting,
Or will my heart just end up hurting?

Texas sunshine,
Brains are baking,
Is this a mistake he's making?

Irish weather,
Damp and dripping,
Fertile ground for aimless quipping,

Hell and Heaven,
Vice versa,
Don't think this could be much worsa!

Gus (actually, and sadly, much better quality than I post in the serious section!!!!!)

Renate,

I would like to get back to that subject of Hell.
What I meant to reveal was that I could not tell
if it’s better or not. I’ll admit, since I think
that there isn’t a hell as you say, we don’t sync
(on that subject).

If I thought of a hell it would be in plain sight,
not imagined or fabled, instilling such fright
into psyches or sinners that they could regret
having sinned. It would be a sight hard to forget
(with an affect)

such as famine or hand-to-hand combat. Alas,
some have seen from a distance what others surpass,
and have witnessed or felt through compassion; and yet,
there’s more fear for a farther off ludicrous threat.
(no one’s perfect)




------------------
zz

To read this thread,
slows down my tread.
Wonderful it is to follow,
trust, no one in a hollow.

The seam of my pants split,
I'm carks to laugh about it.
I want to know where's Nigel
Sure topes with beer San Miguel.

Kickoffs with Duchess Taylor,
A challenge mere to neighbor.
No one turns down a request,
such members with eagerness.

A few women rouse interest
to find out if Nigel is nice.
I am sure he'll be too honest,
For him to tell us cognize.

Thread long, even Napoleon
to dear Josephine, his queen.
From his private collections,
we gauge size of his erection.

I learn to do exercise,
all I need is to practise.
Eyes worn out and bromidic,
C. Taylor, check if I'm right.

Jeanette Dunn

Dear Zita,
Hell's just a word, no more, no less.
But in truth I do confess
it is twelve prunes
and a litre of water.

All the other things you said,
are beyond dread.



[This message has been edited by Renate (edited April 24, 2003).]