--- In [email protected], "curtisdeltablues" <curtisdeltabl...@...> wrote: > > --- In [email protected], "raunchydog" <raunchydog@> wrote: > > > > Taliban Billy > > You have outdone yourself Raunchy!
Speaking as someone who has not always appreciated your poetry, I agree. Well done. > > Taliban Billy walked down the street > > Avoiding hot women asking to meet > > > > He hurled invectives of temptress and vixen > > Holding back jissom and keeping his dick in > > > > Guilty projection not owning eschewing > > Averting his eyes, he feigns ballyhooing > > > > The women just laughed chiding his fears > > Donning up-lifting lacy brassieres > > > > Proudly they swayed from east to the west > > An army of boob bobbing busty big breasts > > > > Taliban Billy in horror ran screaming > > Panicked his jeans soon he'd be creaming > > > > It's hard to ignore sexual attraction > > Until aged libido doesn't get action > > > > Don't blame the women for doing their best > > To look hot for he-men and pass the femme test > > > > Covering modestly is much overrated > > Women you see, have long liberated > > > > Women! Feel sexy, enjoy what you can > > Hunt like you mean it then stand by your man > > > > raunchydog > > > > > > In honor of liberated women: > > > > http://tinyurl.com/dgvbuv > > > > Bread and Roses > > > > As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day, > > A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray, > > Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses, > > For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses! > > > > As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men, > > For they are women's children, and we mother them again. > > Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; > > Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses. > > > > As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead > > Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread. > > Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew. > > Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too. > > > > As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days, > > The rising of the women means the rising of the race. > > No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes, > > But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses. > > Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; > > Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses. > > >
