Ian Barker » rude

On one hand

admin — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 23:05:20 +0000

Wack, wack, wack,
spank that monkey until it’s dead,
he’s had forty girlfriends
but they’ve all been in his head.

Girls from television,
girls he met at work,
the lass from the opticians
with that nearly-open shirt.

Bang bang bang,
it’s great surfing on the ‘net,
look at mucky pictures
“you derty felthy get”.

Sticky tacky keyboard,
an accidental shot,
crunchy paper hankies,
trust me, it isn’t snot.

The lovely ladies’ pictures
have no sense of style or fashion,
there are no barriers to
imaginary palmist passion.

No art of conversation,
no need to buy them drinks,
fine for all perversion,
at least that’s what he thinks.

He’s fapping and he’s slapping
to a passionate crescendo
too bad he never noticed
the face staring at the window.

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Lonely as a cloud

admin — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 23:01:29 +0000

I wondered lonely as a cloud
so my feet now hurt like hell
I stopped to scratch my arse a while
but it made my fingers smell.
I came across a host of sheep
all standing in a line
a passer by reported me
now I face a hefty fine
I must remember, on country walks
to shut the farmyard gates
and not to view farm animals
as ideal sexual mates

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Haiku for a newspaper critic

admin — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 22:53:58 +0000

You quiffy, farty, shiny face,
you think you’re the man,
but you can’t hack the pace.
Twatty, tossy, poofy arse,
smirking moron,
your life’s a farce.
Judging people,
sneering comment,
no talent feeble,
you make me vomit.
I see your fame,
I hear your words,
you’re playing the game,
throwing turds.

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Fridge Poetry

admin — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 22:36:59 +0000

Must we stop this gorgeous satisfaction
so we no longer succumb to our submissive
pleasures?
No more of the guilty tongue stroke
for our obscene and dirty passion?
Couple, life and friend,
driven hotly into tonight.
in a wonderful exchange
with guilty caresses
which invite a sensitive man
to safely stray into adventure.

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