Talking Dirty
You asked me to
Engage in speaking obscenity
As a condiment to our love making
And though I managed some simple
Adjectival nouns I over reached
And was true to myself so I know
“Indigent wench” is not what you expected
But you discovered that the sensation
Of my holding myself in place
While you convulse with laughter
And your body tried to spit me out
Was a delicious sensation worth repeating
But Why ?
Trying to avoid the role
Of cliche expat Brit
In a continental office
I struck upon the verbal ticks
To buy translation time
So a raised eyebrow and saying “Ja, aber warum ?”
Whilst the mind races through declensions
And old vocab tests mostly failed
The conscious mind furiously wasting time
Did he just say that the mice are unhappy ?
Some existential crisis of German rodents
All that Goethe and Nietzsche I suppose
Or is his IT on the fritz
Don’t say on the fritz I did
Once but I think I got away with it
As patiently Karl waits before
“Why won’t you let me use English ?”
I am the other cliché expat Brit
To Spare Your Blushes
Allow me my love to read to you
From the sacred texts
The Hindu sutras of maintaining
Our existence
I will read the Sanskrit
For which there is no literal
Translatable terms and
Explain to you that the lowing calf
Is from the congress of the cow
So please throw away
Your ‘Position a day’ book
It is far too trainspotting
We might as well wear khagouls
And relax you are supposed
To make that noise
Of Proust
Sweet Madeleine if only I could
Consume you now redolent
Of resplendent youth
Made chic with sophisticated age
Oh Madeleine how you wear a skirt
Split to the thigh because
You can never resist the lure of the accordion
To tango wildly with fierce gaze
All those years you spent
Posing as an exotic dancer
On Baltic cruise ships touring
The port towns of the former
Hanseatic Empire “Stepped Gable Tour”
Whilst in truth you were with
Norwegian Special Forces
When I long to hold you in a tango grip
I know you have 43 ways, unarmed, to kill
Not counting your smile
Or that the firmness in your kiss
Is from the trombone embouchure
Your passion, your life
That and whittling ornate penguins
From salvaged chair legs
Oh Madeleine fragrant and delightful
Your scent lingers on me still
Of ginger, lilac and liquorice
With a trace of the tobacco you chew
I treasure the makeshift spittoon
You fashioned from an antique pith helmet
Oh Madeleine I ache
To know your warm embrace
Yet know you must remain
As enigmatic as the shipping forecast
Forties Cromarty Forth Tyne Dogger
Names that conjure you
Secret Admirer
A lady should have an admirer
Who should be courteous, respectful and distant
Though not remote or enigmatic
The admirer should be firm in their conviction of the
Wondrous virtues of the lady they admire
And should be open in their admiration
Then having been clear, concise and charming
In paying tribute sincerely
Respectfully retire and not seek to engage
In a vulgar pleading since the admiration
Should not be returned, that is the etiquette
