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Today's poems [5.1.06]

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There once was a woman from France,
Who did an unusual dance.
She'd roll in the grass,
And lick her own ass,
Her sex would put men in a trance.

1.   Vote:    Category: Foreign Send this poem to a friend




                              Modern Love Poem
     
   
      A Trite Redundant Poem With a Laughable Excuse For a Structure
  Addressed To Absolutely No One in Particular and Whose Only Redeeming
                          Value is That It's Short
                         a.k.a. A Modern Love Poem

My dearest darling with long dark hair and eyes azure,
My love for you is eternal, tried, and sure.
I stare into the infinite depths of your eyes,
But I often find my gaze directed at your thighs.

Everyone appreciates your unsurpassed beauty and grace,
Your perfect supple form and enchanting face.
Some say beauty is fleeting, and boy do I agree.
Your personality sucks, so when you're 40, with you I will not be.

My sweet, how do I love thee?  Let me count the ways...
One...uh...one...hmm...number one...gimme a chance... how about the
way your body sways?

Let me once more restate my love for you.
65% of the time, to you I'm true.
There is no other woman with whom I lay,
At least, not at this particular time of day.

My dear, you're absolutely the best.
How 'bout accompanying me to the next Centralfest?
(That is, unless I don't have another date)
The events that brought us together must have been fate.

I love you, I love you, I love you.
You're the greatest, Jenny, I mean Cherry, I mean Sue.
  


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




In a conference, lonely Fred posted
His plea for a friendly young co-ed
The response was frenetic
From gals energetic
And he died when his modem exploded 

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




There was a young squaw of Wohunt 
            Who possessed a collapsible cunt. 
                It had many odd uses, 
                Produced no papooses, 
            And fitted both giant and runt. 

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




               Any whore whose door sports a red light 
               Knows a prick when she sees one, all right. 
                    She can tell by a glance 
                    At the drape of men's pants 
               If they're worth taking on for the night. 

5.   Vote:    Categories: Women, Sex Send this poem to a friend



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