Monday, November 11, 2013

Splinker's semi. No! Semi-daily poetry slam!

It's been a week and no scantily clad women have made themselves available to me.  Except for a few on the internet and my doctors tell me they don't count.  Despite my lack of success, I still believe poetry is only good for wooing women.   That's right, wooing.  It's an old term that your parents probably used when they meant "I'm going to tap that!"

So I will soldier on and pen another poem.  If you are a scantily clad woman, or even a slim man with pretty eyes, feel free to follow my blog, send me racy emails or comment below.  Today's poem:


It eats at me,
ever since that late spring night,
when you first touched me, and took everything.

All my hunger, all my wants,
all my yearning, all my need.

You kissed me and it all went away. 

But then you left, and it all came back,
and it eats at me.


You have an opinion about everything else. Might as well have one here. Remember, spelling counts.