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mikerotheatre
Mike Rogers
United Kingdom

Words: 185
Access: Public
Comments: 13

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Boys and Girls

The World's Divided into Boys and Girls -
Like Dark and Light, Wet/Dry, Silence and Noise:
One's pleasant, while the other just annoys.
Maturer Ladies, in twinset and pearls,
Nose wrinkling with disgust while their lip curls,
Aren't necessarily life's greatest joys,
But nor are Bearded Men with Smelly Toys
Like Cars and Bikes that churn the mud in swirls.
The rule is: Boys Want Sex, while Girls Need Love,
But both are ready to stick out their necks
To get the one thing they desire above
All else, not noticing that this one wrecks
That one, not thinking that too hard a shove
THAT way will tilt you THIS: Life's more Complex.
When Light's too Bright, you can't tell Hawk from Dove.


NB This was my contribution to a Year 9 lesson in sonnet-writing, for which we wrote big lists of rhyme words - though to tell the truth, we only did Girls and Boys for the octave; Love and Sex for the sestet was my idea alone, and as I'm a supply teacher, that other lesson may never be taught (or learned, for that matter).

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Comments  
mynamelez Comment by: mynamelez - 2006-04-25 00:21
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I liked your poem. Battle of the sexes where "women are from venis and men are from mars" meets "Men are from venis and woman are from mars"
lolly Comment by: lolly Online- 2006-03-12 10:22
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you know how when you're reading you sometimes misread a word and everything from that word on was affected? well, i read "Maturer Ladies" as "Monster Ladies" so i ended up on the wrong bus except that it wasn't the wrong bus it was the right bus for the moment and thank god for you. the comments you take the time to post sustain me. you ARE merlin.
Min Comment by: Min - 2006-03-07 12:10
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Liked some of the contrasts you mention. Like the way you develop the idea of differences in the sexes by using stereotypes.
Comment by: - 2006-02-12 12:23
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Curious presentation of oposites, nice to see wet and dry in there, a touch of alchemy.
Comment by: - 2006-02-11 14:23
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i was firmly seduced by the psilocybin one winter night in texas, and i found myself in some stranger's front yard, sifting through handfuls of borrowed pebble and rock, and when they found me they said i was mumbling about boys and girls and sex and beauty and damage and elliptical journeys which never return home. this piece reminds me of that evening, helpless and flayed to bare awareness, weeping and trying to hold on to that point where love and sex meet, exchange brief violent recognition, then suspicious glances as mirror-masked amnesiacs behind hungry hairy knuckled fingers and lace trimmed coquettish pink hearts.
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By mikerotheatre

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