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Today's poems [6.30.05]

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There was a young maiden of Siam
Who said to her lover, young Kiam,
"If you kiss me, of course,
You will have to use force,-
But god knows you are stronger that I am."

1.   Vote:    Category: Marriage and Relationships Send this poem to a friend




There was once a mechanic named Bench 
               Whose best tool was a sturdy gut-wrench. 
                    With this vibrant device 
                    He could reach, in a trice, 
               The innermost parts of a wench. 

2.   Vote:    Category: Men Send this poem to a friend




Part 7 of 12
   
                    His repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,
                            
                    He achieved new effects with bubbles of gas.
                            With a good dose of salts
                            He could whistle a waltz
                            
                    Or swing it in razzamatazz.
                            


3.   Vote:    Category: Send this poem to a friend




There was a young fellow named Meek
Who invented a lingual technique,
It drove women frantic
And made them romantic,
And wore all the hair off his cheek.


4.   Vote:    Category: Send this poem to a friend




Many many years ago
when I was twenty three,
I got married to a widow
who was pretty as could be.

This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
For she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse,
Although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
Of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became
A brother-in-law to dad.
And so became my uncle,
Though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,
Then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown-up daughter
Who, of course, was my step-mother.

Father's wife then had a son,
Who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
For he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mother
And it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
She is my grandma too.

If my wife is my grandmother,
Then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it,
It simply drives me wild.

For now I have become
The strangest case you ever saw.
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa.

5.   Vote:    Category: Ethnic Send this poem to a friend



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