Sometimes the spirit is pure but the body is weak. (Strong Verse magazine)
|First of a baker's dozen of poems I am attempting to write based on the April 2009 Inspirations prompts.
Don’t get your knickers in a twist
If my delights you can’t resist;
You may be solemn and devout
But twisted genes will force you out.
On Sunday you may don the frock,
Recite the text, enthrall the flock,
But Monday you are back again
‘Cause what I’ve got appeals to men.
So, bring your dollars, bring your coins,
I’ll light a fire between your loins.
Though it seems twisted wickedness,
Your heart says “No!”, but body “Yes!”
Remove your collar, hat and clothes
The blood down to your manhood flows
You say a prayer, then with a lunge
You twist and thrust and take the plunge.
With passion gone and manhood bent
Each hard earned dollar long since spent
You head for home to face your wife
True victim of your twisted life.
But Sunday when you rage at sin
Remember how you twist within
Though you seem pure, you must admit
You’re just a twisted hypocrite.