Gwerful Merchain bawdy mediaeval Cymru poet , whose lyrical joy is a pleasure to read
If God Gives A Penis
Tag Archives: literature
Female Genitals
The Female Genitals
Every foolish drunken poet,
boorish vanity without ceasing,
(never may I warrant it,
I of great noble stock,)
has always declaimed fruitless praise
in song of the girls of the lands
all day long, certain gift,
most incompletely, by God the Father:
praising the hair, gown of fine love,
and every such living girl,
and lower down praising merrily
the brows above the eyes;
praising also, lovely shape,
the smoothness of the soft breasts,
and the beauty’s arms, bright drape,
she deserved honour, and the girl’s hands.
Then with his finest wizardry
before night he did sing,
he pays homage to God’s greatness,
fruitless eulogy with his tongue:
leaving the middle without praise
and the place where children are conceived,
and the warm quim, clear excellence,
tender and fat, bright fervent broken circle,
where I loved, in perfect health,
the quim below the smock.
You are a body of boundless strength,
a faultless court of fat’s plumage.
I declare, the quim is fair,
circle of broad-edged lips,
it is a valley longer than a spoon or a hand,
a ditch to hold a penis two hands long;
cunt there by the swelling arse,
song’s table with its double in red.
And the bright saints, men of the church,
when they get the chance, perfect gift,
don’t fail, highest blessing,
by Beuno, to give it a good feel.
For this reason, thorough rebuke,
all you proud poets,
let songs to the quim circulate
without fail to gain reward.
Sultan of an ode, it is silk,
little seam, curtain on a fine bright cunt,
flaps in a place of greeting,
the sour grove, it is full of love,
very proud forest, faultless gift,
tender frieze, fur of a fine pair of testicles,
a girl’s thick grove, circle of precious greeting,
lovely bush, God save it.
A poem from Gwerful Mechain a mediaeval poet and tavern owner and is the most erotic poet in Wales , yet her words have a formation that lingers and makes you yield to the pleasures
Only Fans
my dog stepped on a bee
grandma killed a drone
with the most excellent pickles
yet I live within
feeding on
Binley Mega Chippy
watching with tears
the people of Ukraine
punished by the despot
as we have our own
tin pot dictator
of inflationary no comprise
parties more of a preference
champagne eton mess
vulgar shits
believing covid in retrograde
the poor keep dying
on the pyre of debt
chancellor grinning
utility meter spinning
on his cosy yacht
let them eat cake
but even that we cannot afford
food bank serenade
whilst they last
until nobody can supply them
we need tractors
to steal tanks
so I can live
and you all can smile
maybe a grimace
a death masque to society
Girls bringing sherbet
raise the camp fire,
blankets spread on
the ground,
singing dead and door
tunes,
sex chorus behind
rolling orange orb
waiting for the sherbet
Wheatfields
Wheatfields
she hitched her
shorts the cleft
appeared
and in that moment
all tides surged
today had become
brighter.
Ukrainian girl in wheat field Painting
Ukraine
Painting, Oil on Canvas
Size: 25 W x 35 H x 1.4 D cm
Love Ukraine
2022 a pandemic is just loosening its grip and then another disease began , Russia under the looming presence of Putin , invaded Ukraine with brutal aggression a petulant psychopath wanting a reunited Soviet Union , well he can fuck off , I see on the news a beautiful people facing adversity with grace and fortitude and in my heart and prayers I think of them , and as I do I remembered there is a poem Love Ukraine by Volodymyr Sosyura that says so much and can fit for the here and now
Please offer aid to any organisation , the people of Ukraine need our love and support
Naked Orange
standing naked in the kitchen
talking on long cable
green wall phone
handset greasy
from pan fried bacon
I needed you
as we spoke
long distance
bare feet paced
on tactile floor
your voice oozed
sweet through receiver
I could see you
imagine you
black neglige
auburn hair
remaining flaccid
slapped to my thighs
as I knew
his cigarette tasting
tongue would be
caressing your neck
hands massaging
needy breasts
you will come home
shower fresh panties
and we would
cradle ourselves in love
on the couch
Denise Levertov
Consulting the Oracle /From a Plane
ACTION: How Britain’s most brutal comic laid the real ’70s bare
AGGRO! In the long, hot summer of 1976, ACTION comic’s blood-crazed sharks, spy thugs and football yobs warped young minds across Britain. Creator Pat Mills tells JOHN NAUGHTON about the comic The Sun called the Sevenpenny Nightmare.
In the recent trend for publishing books based around specific years, no-one has yet laid claim to 1976. Like visitors strolling past a boss-eyed mongrel at Battersea Dogs’ Home, prospective authors have failed to see the appeal of a year that began with 15 people murdered in Northern Ireland before the Christmas decorations came down and continued in grindingly grim fashion with front pages dominated by endless tales of industrial aggro or Cod and Cold War stand-offs. Civil war raged in Angola and bombs exploded throughout London. Is this the MPLA, is this the IRA? Yes, on both counts, Johnny.
Action’s most infamous cover, as seen in High-Rise.
Listen closely and you can hear the tectonic plates…
View original post 4,199 more words
Denise Carruthers
As you know I love to write and love to read as well , I have known this poet for a while and she is modest , intelligent and a fiercely wonderful writer have a read then follow her on twitter and show her the love
velvetmedia 