Ted Sheridan Poems

She bent over exposing her love to my hungry eyes
The smell of county apples filled my nostrils void
And caressed my naked lips with bliss
As I buried my humble face in her 3.14
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There is just something very sexy
about the way she twists and plays
with that short section of fine hair
on the left side of her pretty head; wrapping
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he poet believes in his heart
the place from where his words come
is sacred; he sees a perfect world
made up of many imperfections;
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When someone is a person of questionable integrity
and they have committed dubious acts in their past
many years of civil service to society and then they suddenly are befallen
with a fatal disease; (other than Liberalism….which is only a mental disorder)
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You dropped the F bomb on him.
The money is gone and the rigor mortis
of poverty sets in….your life was his.
He has always been your provider; always
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Easily deceived by the obtuseness of angles
between light and sound; good decisions
are never easy regardless of our effort to be exact.
Women are different from men, they shave
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Never bet against self righteous perversions
winning another round in your eternal struggle
between good and evil.
They never disappear for good; these demonic shackles
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I choose to maintain a positive attitude;
There were no earthquakes, volcanic eruptions
hurricanes or tornados within a five hundred mile
radius of my present location. Not one species
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You had better tell her....your new lover
before she starts moving in
toothbrush first
then a comb and hair dryer
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The man makes a good point when he said, “We all know how it ends”
He’s right, we do
Could happen in the shower one day
While masturbating with the new hand held spray attachment
...