a study toward sonnet #133 by FisherKingKQJ

I wore a lime coloured frock which offset
The highlight extensions in my red hair.
I'd heard the stories concerning him, yet
His flings engrossed me, they supplied cheer
Instead of daunting...he was debonair,
He waltzed consummately, and he adored
The fairer sex. His pick up lines to spare
Were customised for each of us - we pored
On them, compared notes - he might afford
Some version for me through vernacular,
He might drawl, sussing a girl, me, accord:
You have the eyes of a crouching jaguar.
I was pleased as punch: it might be okay:
I felt the girls felt this weird match au fait.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I was pleased as punch: it might be okay.
I was pleased as punch: it might be allright.
I was pleased as punch: it might be fine.

[17/9/05 correction of technique ll10-14 to
even up lines. Content unchanged.]

a study toward sonnet #132 by FisherKingKQJ

As he slipped his arm round me, as he groped
My person, I slouched, quiescent and turning
Aside. He lowered his head to mine, he hoped
Thereby to plant his mouth on mine earning
A french kiss. Aaaaargh. Since I wasn't spurning
Completely then as prior, he seemed inspired
Via cracked logic, surely: he was earning
Respect from me? He tugged back - I was ired-
Insulted, overwhelmed, hot, I seemed mired,
His hand inside my blouse, then on my thigh
Under my dress, my push up bra awry.
His breathing quickened, deepened, he was wired.
So out the passenger door I then jumped;
I looked back as bemused as he was stumped.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Out the passenger door I quickly jumped.
Out the passenger door I quickly capered.
Out the passenger door I quickly leapt.

[Corrected for rhythm and typeset 8/10/05.]

a study toward sonnet #131 by FisherKingKQJ

I'm loathe to speak: illegal immigrants
In sweatshops typify our nation great;
It's no small chipucabra shimmy prance,
As yankee costs, and mexican crime sate.
I'll slump back in the patrol car and wait,
The headlights pouring cacti wed agaves;
I'll snuggle close kiss runaway jailbait
Away from Sonoran sand shallow graves.
Midnight's chill blooms a sultry bat slaves,
Purple saguana pod seed sweet jelly
It savors now, white cardon prickle braves,
Mask of pollen swells its big furred belly.
We're hypnotised by drive-in moonshine still:
Elf owls tap moonlight, datura to swill.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Elf owls tap moonlight, datura to swill.
Elf owls tap moonlight, datura to swill.
Elf owls tap moonlight, datura to swill.

[Major rewrite for rhythm and line length.
I'm proud to say that the content is always
perfect, but sometimes the technique trails.
25/9/05]

{While researching a historic sonnet I came across a black and white photo of the docks. A horse and wagon, only one of several, was blurred as it had violated shutter speed. I think of that photo whenever someone says that digitisation is
a great threat to the notion the whole of human history can be reduced to two or three dictators in black and white portraiture in L--- magazine.}

a study toward sonnet #130 by FisherKingKQJ

The figure of the gondola appeared
A diamond edged glass cutter. A long meow
Left two queers in feline Gagna masks. They leered
At a dashing man from their cofano.
We wore Bauta masks white button nosed po.
Now dusk, the rio and ramis we reneged,
We bounced onto the stone quay from the prow.
In Florian's bacaro we were intrigued
By the finicky tall waiter who'd segued
Through crushed ice water into a goblet
By means of a riddle, the chilled drops leagued
At bottom with amber toned anisette.
The mouth holes perverted and mixed our speech:
His kisses tasted prosecco with peach.

{3D interactive chorus:}

His kisses tasted prosecco with peach.
His kisses tasted prosecco with apricot.
His kisses tasted prosecco with nectarine.

[ll1, 13 14 corrected for rhythm. No change to content.
17/9/05.]

a study toward sonnet #129 by FisherKingKQJ

Quiet liaisons if you fancy bicurious
My orientation can accord with taste
MasterCardVisa, noone penurious
Penthouse a heartbeat off CBD haste.
I've tightly tied a towel round my waist...
You've got a seven year itch, it's rocky?
Let me rub massage oil at tension laced;
You've passed on pills as a hotshot jockey?
Let me slap your flab till you're not stocky;
You've battled sexist pigs to boost your pile
Let me rap your shoulder blades to cocky:-
As everyone plots to cramp your style.
Barrabas ring, from the Yellow Pages,
Body is taut, his smile bliss engages.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Body is taut, his smile bliss engages.
Body is taut, his smile bliss engages.
Body is taut, his smile bliss engages.

[ll1-14 corrected for rhytm and typeset. 1/10/05]

a study toward sonnet #128 by FisherKingKQJ

She stared at me unblinking and perplexed
She believed after a time we could be pals
But truthfully I found her undersexed
I valued my new reassigned genitals:
She was immature and still had her balls.
Just pals? I knew in my heart I would hate
And love my better half, not take her calls
Till nothing about her carried weight.
And truth be told closet transvestites grate,
They miscast transexuals in a poor light.
I grabbed, and then kissed byebye this effete
Woman I'd so loved, she stumbled taking flight.
Verse Naval and Family beer breath stink,
In K' road I knocked out that bitch in pink.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Verse Naval and Family beer breath stink.
Verse Naval and Family beer breath odour.
Verse Naval and Family beer breath pong.

[ll13 and 14 corrected for typeset.26/9/05.]

a study toward sonnet #127 by FisherKingKQJ


He held me in the least regard. He spurned
Me. I had tried to stir myself to despise
Him. His words aloud I recited, I churned
Over, I whipped up his sarcastic surmise.
However I knew the censures did arise
From his own profound drawn out agony.
So I diluted them. It was I who cut ties,
It was Warwick who'd sought matrimony.
His kindness, I'd rejected as phoney
Compared to the ice and fire of Larry
His limousines and leveraged money,
His rants, his candour, his scowling parry.
An idiot, at true love I'd given a shrug
On manners and giving I'd pulled the plug.

{3D interactive chorus:}

On manners and giving I'd pulled the plug.
On manners and giving I'd pulled the stopper.
On manners and giving I'd pulled the wedge.

a study toward sonnet #126 by FisherKingKQJ

Smashed totally, heart racing on, and throat
Dry gulping, I lay eyes closed, as he raised
Himself off. I wanted him as though by rote
To nest my head on his left shoulder dazed
And spent as I was. So I was amazed
And galled to feel the mattress rise and drop
As he quit bed. The shower box droplet hazed
Inside the ensuite, silhouette looked to mop
A shampoo round his hair, his feet to slop.
My body continued its tune in delight
From his caress; but my heart couldn't stop
Its inner sunburst of tears at my sleight:
I'd stirred him to casual sex, a blunder:
My love was deep though I'd torn it asunder.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I'd conned him into casual sex, a blunder.
I'd conned him into casual sex, a fault.
I'd conned him into casual sex, a mistake.
[1/10/05 ll1-14 corrected for typeset and
rhythm.]

a study toward sonnet #125 by FisherKingKQJ

He thanked me for the bright experience
He'd never dreamed possible. His lips found
Mine though the initial kisses were tense,
Lukewarm, the last was cravenly unbound
And energising causing my heart to pound,
My body to shiver, my arms to squeeze
Around his lower spine. He lifted around
His face away but he did not release
His tight grip of me. It seemed without cease
We gazed at one another, in a bobbing daze,
Then he gulped a breath. Then we were at ease.
He looked away and I felt my own eyes glaze.
The gondola moored, at bridges we looked,
Curled spaghetti in cuttle fish ink booked.

{3D interactive chorus:}

The gondola moored, at bridges we looked.
The gondola moored, at bridges we gazed.
The gondola moored, at bridges we stared.
[l14 modified for typeset 2/10/05.]

a study toward sonnet #124 by FisherKingKQJ

I trailed her from the room, I yearned to ask
Her more concerning his defacto, but not
Yet right to. The blush on my face as if a mask
Chafed me. He twisted swiftly round. My lot
It was to secretly love him, yet in earshot;
He'd trailed off slagging my links to Robert.
Ensuing my cutting, quick retort, I lost the plot
All the way back to my place, to avert
His weak excuse. I marched, enraged and hurt
Into the bathroom whacking its door shut.
How dare he speculate me being this flirt,
A consort of womaniser Robert, some slut?
His achilles heel stamped groundless gossip!
He would look perfect when watching his lip!

{3D interactive chorus:}

His achilles heel stamped groundless gossip!
His achilles heel stamped groundless chitchat!
His achilles heel stamped groundless tattle!

a study toward sonnet #123 by FisherKingKQJ

He clinched me for a couple of moments
Then whirled me in his arms. His broad ribcage
He pressed cross mine as a hot condolence,
I seized his forearm partly in umbrage
To right myself. His mood was hard to gauge,
But his biceps were taut, as hard as stone.
Since he was very tall, his demeanour sage,
He patronised me through eloquent tone,
Which panicked me. And yet I was not alone
As his legs quaked next to mine! Then his long face
He arched and dropped to mine, my startled moan
To sobs reduced. His pashing lacked a grace.
Only the sound of breathing broke the air
And he cradled my head with novel flair.

{3D interactive chorus:}

And he cradled my head with novel flair.
And he cradled my head with novel panache.
And he cradled my head with novel style.
[Corrected for rhythm and typeset 2/10/05.]

a study toward sonnet #122 by FisherKingKQJ

I felt its pain in my heart, such a piquant
Mute lament for the furtive, muffed chance
Which separated us, a small faith truant
On my part, and choler circumstance
On his part. Down our year long advance
A crevasse cut his ardour for me clear
Away from my own for him. Our romance
Froze up, his icepick jigged its icy veneer.
Might we yet bridge vapour kisses sheer,
In premarital lovemaking overreach
To intimacy and pacts without peer
And repose in the clasp of each to each?
He might approach me mentally aloof:
A wince his last response was living proof.

{3D interactive chorus:}
[ll1, 7, 13 corrected for rhythm and
typeset 6/10/05.]

He might approach me mentaly aloof.
He might approach me mentally detached.
He might approach me mentally remote.

a study toward sonnet #121 by FisherKingKQJ

I could sense our rapport start round decline.
As our track broadened, Simon from behind
Dipped speedily to shove his arm through mine.
My heart raced at his sudden change of mind.
And then I understood he was only being kind.
He smiled quizzically. His eyebrow twitched.
A jest, surely. I started to query this bind,
How far I'd erred, if I was to be ditched.
I felt too flustered, clueless, and bewitched
To be more than submissive in his hold.
As we neared his farmstead, he softly switched
My shoulders round and close to face him bold.
I guessed and dreamed that he'd kiss and pin
Me to a bough. He gazed, he tipped my chin.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I guessed and dreamed that he'd kiss and pin.
I guessed and dreamed that he'd kiss and nail.
I guessed and dreamed that he'd kiss and rivet.

[Corrected for typeset and rhythm 6/10.05.]

a study toward sonnet #120 by FisherKingKQJ

There's a boy who lives in this tenement
Downstairs from my digs who's tiny podgy
With a demeanour louche and insolent,
Brushing off crumbs being his pathology.
On landings we'll brush, not at all dodgy,
I think I'll haul him to the boiler room
One frosty night to savour his stodgy
Cheesecake and creambun lips in the gloom.
So far he's felt me up and made me fume
On the stairwell; I don't have the courage
To force him to sex me, I simply assume.
He might not choose bosoms over porridge.
Fatso, there's torrid mischief in the works
One day with lots of crumpet your perks.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Fatso, there's torrid mischief in the works.
Fatso, there's torrid mischief in the business.
Fatso, there's torrid mischief in the to-do.
[Corrected for rhythm and typeset 9/10/05.]
{Editor's note: the characters are fictional and any resemblance to the croupiers in Paris, Las Vegas is purely coincidental.}

a study toward sonnet #119 by FisherKingKQJ

Nude modelling I'm not insane about,
As I've got a pilose system on the whole
Undeveloped, which nevertheless I tout
To artists hairless, oft dabbed with charcoal.
Cite Falgiere so freezing took its toll:
As we sloshed in sleet I began to sob,
In fuming gasps we cussed the rigmarole,
Pierre appeared - he looked a vicious snob.
We'd carried old payphone books to the job,
His studio was less freezing than the street,
It was still cold, so Pierre decided to lob,
Chair legs into the stove to give us heat.
From that day on, as from his first warm smile,
We've been a couple, solid for a while.

{3D interactive chorus:}
[Punctuation and rhythm changed
plus l14 shortened for type set 10/10/05.]

We've been a couple, solid for a while.
We've been a couple, solid for a spell.
We've been a couple, solid for a time.

a study toward sonnet #118 by FisherKingKQJ

My girlfriend averred I allow a gent
Of a certain age debauch me: care, not hurt
A girl's virginity should meekly rent:
In ritzy Menilmont we met my flirt.
After a grill of quail with custard dessert,
And wine, he was curt and didn't dally-
He ordered off my spencer, bra and skirt.
So I lay blissed by the idea I was finally
About to be taught. I was totally
Reliant on him - I fancied him because
He was a tease! His nose began the sally,
Sweet things he did with his clean shaven jaws,
His ears were ecstacy. However at dawn,
O dear, I was still a virgin to brawn!

{3D interactive chorus:}

O dear, I was still a virgin to brawn!
O dear, I was still a virgin to flesh!
O dear, I was still a virgin to meat!

[ll14 corrected to align with l1
for typeset. 3/10/05.]

a study toward sonnet #117 by FisherKingKQJ

I share now with the woman a lurid
And small lodging in the Plaisance quarter.
She related to me her clandestine, putrid
Affair, that the elderly Basque brought her
Cheese and sausage from home as barter.
So, she's been kept by a working man, who
Presumed that I was her naif teen daughter,
Who sexed her as he observed no taboo
On the brass spring bed in front of me. A slew
Of days passed, my girlfriend and I took a stroll
In the boulevards, a nude audition to do
Off boulevard Strasbourg at concert Mayol.
It was nettling cold and snowflakes would burn
Sideways drifting into collar upturn.

{3D interactive chorus:}

It was nettling cold and snowflakes would burn.
It was nettling cold and snowflakes would roast.
It was nettling cold and snowflakes would scald.

a study toward sonnet #116 by FisherKingKQJ

As well, I posed to monsieur U my bald
By wax pubis. Often, he would approach
And put his nose near its mound, enthralled
To see if stubble had begun to broach,
To germinate whilst I posed. Mock reproach
He'd squeak in his effeminate, pinched voice
"Lily, you're hysterical, no hair! I'll poach
An egg on your tummy smooth!" We'd rejoice
The sale of his framed painting, for my poise
I'd get maybe two or three hundred sou,
And to prove I was his model of choice,
He'd roll spare coins to get me to pursue.
At twelve I first posed my street urchin arse
For palettes, easels, oils of Montpernasse.

{3D interactive chorus:}

[ll7,9,14 corrected for rhythm and typeset
9/10/05.]
At twelve I first posed my street urchin arse.
At twelve I first posed my street urchin bum.
At twelve I first posed my street urchin rear.

a study toward sonnet #115 by FisherKingKQJ

The new client was suntanned and bluff
I'd just heard him query the concierge:
Who's the new whore? A wildcat in the buff
Deserves a masterstroke. I was on the verge
Of retreating, I bit my lips...the in kind urge
I resisted. A pose for Kessling in the raw
Would deck galleries, interest would surge.
Adopt a pilates or yoga pose he'd implore,
He dubbed me a five sous syphilitic whore
All in the nicest way you could conjure...
Still, I was insulted to my spiritual core
By a great artist quite mean and impure.
For my nude posing I divulge no shame,
To inspire Montmartre genii is my aim.

{3D interactive chorus:}

For my nude posing I divulge no shame.
For my nude posing I divulge no guilt.
For my nude posing I divulge no remorse.

a study toward sonnet #114 by FisherKingKQJ

We bore hyacinths in the blonde creels,
We warbled psalms of unrequited love,
I, Sappho, plucked a lyre, their choral peals
Seemed wafted by the peacock fan above
My head, then Julia's voice began to rove
A lovers' spat as diffuse as white sand.
In the pomegranate and oleander cove
We cavorted, skinnydipped, our play spanned
The cloudless afternoon, then as I'd planned
We repaired to Elektra's villa at dusk,
We mingled for the saturnalia unmanned
The scent of rosemary and women's musk.
Under cliffs of jonquil and anenome
We floated in the weightless cobalt sea.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Under cliffs of jonquil and anenome.
Under cliffs of jonquil and hyacinth.
Under cliffs of jonquil and rose.

a study toward sonnet #113 by FisherKingKQJ

A niece to Pittacus the Dictator,
Melitta studies fine art and wisdom
In a tunic with suns to overscore
The nipples of her generous bosom.
Her coquettish ruddy pouts, her fingers slim,
The honeyblonde hairs she precisely grooms
And laces with helio, the braids a-rim
A chignon fenced by combs speak volumes.
A question in her huge almond eyes looms,
Their pellucid grey pours a loving bourse
Into my own. In my secluded rooms
Of music, art and manners we converse.
"Oh, Sappho" she delivers huskily,
"Could I learn to play the harp duskily?"

{3D interactive chorus:}

"Oh, Sappho" she delivers huskily.
"Oh, Sappho" she delivers croakily.
"Oh, Sappho" she delivers raspily.

a study toward sonnet #112 by FisherKingKQJ

Surreptitiously I touch the outline
Of a short jewel encrusted silver dirk -
A gift from Alexander. Fat, bovine
And nude females ogle me and they smirk
Through acrid hashish fumes in the murk
Of the Seven Tallow Candles St Inn.
A sailor purls a buff plump cow a jerk
Rearward onto a bench, his goatee chin
On her aureoles rasps. His sunchapped grin
Presages wine splashing on meaty bubs.
Her pallid blubber legs dunting a din
She screeches, her sweaty minge she rubs.
A sodden whore rushed me to no avail
Her plan to tear and smithereen my veil.

{3D interactive chorus:}

A sodden whore rushed me to no avail.
A sodden whore rushed me to no result.
A sodden whore rushed me to no success.

a study toward sonnet #111 by FisherKingKQJ


We lay behind the temple, mouths but mum.
An arch of his spine, his murmuring
Sappho, Sappho! his viscid delirium
Dissipated into a dozey clasp, a wring:
Was my entire life a blunder, nothing?
A warm body next to me, I felt lonesome.
Silly me to embark on yet another fling!
I did prefer women lithe and lissom,
His biceps were second to soft bosom.
I'd felt his probing ardour bewildering
This meek yet crude lover left me numb,
He'd straight fall asleep in my feeble cling.
As a girl I'd observed the acts and cues:
My mother her handmaidens seduce.

{3D interactive chorus:}

As a girl I'd observed the acts and cues.
As a girl I'd observed the acts and leads.
As a girl I'd observed the acts and tips.

[Editor's note. After sonnet #200 I will be actively recruiting personnel.]

a study toward sonnet #110 by FisherKingKQJ

My eyes kohl, my nipples, and labia rouge,
My arms and thighs tinted blue. Diaphonous
Silk clothing implies my curvature to louche
Rubes. Like grass under a rock my pubis
Yellow, might or might not rouse with the fizz
Of my total inky cravings, throbbing, dissolute.
Lewd Kressim a banker of Thebes is.
I eschew the idea of standing up to salute
Or engage him, so he obliges, pads the jute
To come forward and proxy stoop the chaise.
An exquisitely painted foot, a cute
Engraved bracelet tinkling, to his gob, I raise.
As I assumed, he was gladdened and moot
To lavish a fervent kiss on my foot.

{3D interactive chorus:}

As I assumed, he was gladdened and moot.
As I assumed, he was gladdened and placed.
As I assumed, he was gladdened and weighted.

a study toward sonnet #109 by FisherKingKQJ

Ah, Sappho, forgive my insane outburst.
Against my soul mate. Fibber. Last conquest.
I squeezed his hand my gaze in his immersed,
Against his shoulder my head found a nest.
His kisses were so amorously pressed
A trice I puzzled if my judgement were astray,
Now, just as he grasped me to his chest.
No, no, I could sense his con some way...
In the arbour amid subtle odours of decay
And regeneration, of compost and moss
We surrendered to prolonged foreplay,
In a swirling perfume of roses. To Lesbos
No galley in the King's fleet was to steer
Phaon was for Sicily to advance his career.

{3D interactive chorus:}

No galley in the King's fleet was to steer.
No galley in the King's fleet was to turn.
No galley in the King's fleet was to bend.

study toward sonnet #108 by FisherKingKQJ

The words wouldn't come. He smiled then
He took off his shirt. He began to tie
My hands behind my back. That was when
I started the morbid mantra goodbye
To all my folks in my head. He pulled my
Arms above my head and tied them
To a hook for the punchbag. Then my guy
He started punching me. A problem:
Steve rang. Rob wiped away his phlegm,
He gasped air at my mobile in reply.
I passed out on a kick to the brain stem.
The scene resolved to a comatose sigh:
Steve was late to know it was an affair
True, Rob overreacted but fair is fair.

{3D interactive chorus:}

True, Rob overreacted but fair is fair.
True, Rob overreacted but fair is just.
True, Rob overreacted but fair is right.

study towards sonnet #107 by FisherKingKQJ

I resented his aura of power and his
Obtuse sarcasm. So why did a tremor
Snake down my spine asserting bliss?
He smirked at me in mocking horror
As if I had a smear on my nose. No score.
I seared him with an indignant look. He'd
Contrived his own defeat in Pyrrhic war.
I drew a shallow breath and then freed
It. Words formed and died in a huge screed
Before they found voice. I had to dredge
Lethe itself to keep my eyes on the bead,
Emotionless. I felt a pulse on the edge
Of my throat. He was late, the date a botch.
I tapped the face of my little gold watch.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Of my throat. He was late, the date a botch.
Of my throat. He was late, the date a disaster.
Of my throat. He was late, the date a flub.

study toward sonnet #106 by FisherKingKQJ

His intent look probed my gang and tarried
As I giggled at a florid fellow's quip,
As into parley my low voice carried
I saw his eyelids bat twice, his gaze dip.
I felt intuition immersion pip,
I knew he'd been watching me. I essayed
A slightly lifted eyebrow as a tip
To stir enquiry mute, to succour aid.
Can silent talk by two people be made?
Might he feel my desire, as intense
As his gaze near tangible? He sashayed
Across to me sparking thence into hence.
I tuned out the toast and wineglass clink
He, a gentleman, gave my friend a wink.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I tuned out the toast and wineglass clink.
I tuned out the toast and wineglass ping.
I tuned out the toast and wineglass tap.

a study toward sonnet #105 by FisherKingKQJ

Alexander the Great peeped gymnophists
The sceptics were last to disrobe and cower
The stoics nodded to cellulite and cysts
The cynics to size were uniformly sour.
My old toothbrush and baking soda scour
The poo marks off nude hire bicycle seats
Naturists keep their colony in good odour
Far from gossip mongers and scandal sheets.
Fellows shouldn't be ashamed of their meats
At rampant pheromones they need to sniff,
To connoisseur upturned or downturned teats
They're Womankind's bounty, they're nature's riff.
Around our caravan my missus nude
Mows lawns: agape love shan't be lewd.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Around our caravan my missus nude.
Around our caravan my missus buff.
Around our caravan my missus undressed.