a study toward sonnet #242 by FisherKingKQJ


I miss the life of coconut milk and taro,
It's a drudge this work as hotel maid;
I read the tea leaves and the tarot
For overstayers who fear a dawn raid.
Work is regimented: I like to grade
The hotel guests' castaway underpants
As pillows and bedsheets are neatly made
By odours and auras fitting romance.
So: boxer shorts a beerbelly advance-
He's a student who hardly gets a shake;
So: briefs are never to proud to prance-
He's girlieman, he likes orgasms you fake.
But it's longjohns which make my spirit coo,
Affirming my love and the Fiji coup.


But it's longjohns which make my spirit coo.
But it's longjohns which make my spirit hum.
But it's longjohns which make my spirit purr.

a study toward sonnet #241 by FisherKingKQJ


I don't know what to make of this fight,
It's not about you or me in the least,
Ahead go, all my misdemeanours cite,
My visa is overstamped, dogeared, creased.
You come across as smug and self pleased
Yourself, sometimes, we're more alike
Than we like to admit, a two headed beast,
The misdemeanour list details your psyche.
Perhaps your tantrum is a pre emptive strike
But more likely to paranoia you're slave,
Up through your legs gravity strings spike
From a dice cube on a probability wave.
Sometimes you're funny, at times you drone,
Sometimes you're a marionette I disown.


Sometimes you're funny, at times you drone.
Sometimes you're funny, at times you garble.
Sometimes you're funny, at times you murmur.

a study toward sonnet #240 by FisherKingKQJ


The world owes much to productive suicides
And humps along unfeeling regardless
The universal machine or nylon rides
Our byzantine comforts through the mess.
Perhaps expectation can embrace success
And put a transgender robot at the crest
In a backside zip or a skin tight dress
Of black humour wrapped in the Turing test.
The numbers and molecules do our behest
And for a while suppress the human heart
And demons return to propound their blessed
And reverse all hierarchies a la carte.
On your small smile a patent surely pends,
Its artifice of a love never ends.


On your small smile a patent surely pends.
On your small smile a patent surely covers.
On your small smile a patent surely rides.

a study toward sonnet #239 by FisherKingKQJ


Behind my hairy back they call me chimp-
A curse it is to be bald and yet hirsute;
Unshaven, thrusting women leave me limp,
My wife is girlish, and saccharine cute.
I'm a bit of all right, me and my loot,
Highbrow shelves validate my towering pate...
In bed, when I'm about my wad to shoot,
She'll yell another bloke's name, which I hate.
In the ceiling mirror, advanced primate
And hour glass woman attack and groan,
His lips recede, his teeth clench and grate,
He let's out a screechy chimplike moan.
In winter my matt keeps my missus warm-
In summer she preens me lovable gorm.


In winter my matt keeps my missus warm.
In winter my matt keeps my missus cozy.
In winter my matt keeps my missus flush.

a study toward sonnet #238 by FisherKingKQJ


I spared a limbering daddy longlegs,
My love for you not running to your squeals,
Our position low in the chain so begs
Us take a look at what we mean by ordeals.
We're not the first young couple which feels
The crunch of poverty, we won't be the last,
It's no sort of disease which never heals,
And finite are the ways to play downcast.
My live and let prey meme has you aghast,
Its sand flies and web in red and black mould
Of the shower cubicle, the mosaic amassed-
It's not the perfect life your mum extolled.
I believe our love will beat what you dread
Let's have a laugh as we're better than dead.



I believe our love will beat what you dread.
I believe our love will beat what you abhor.
I believe our love will beat what you loathe.

a study toward sonnet #237   by FisherKingKQJ

My friend, it's disgusting that we two
Who are so unalike can be called the same
Womaniser by an idle gossip, who
By jealousy is compelled to defame.
She had serene good looks and was game
For a pillow fight or a public row.
She was a street walker, gritty yet tame,
A champion of high society to low.
She was a charmer whose looks were so-so
And I adored her self effacing jokes.
She was a fizzy waif blonde into the blow
Who a party atmosphere liked to coax.
A torrent of tears for each girl I bawled,
Whereas you dateraped or boozily balled.

 
A torrent of tears for each girl I bawled.
A torrent of tears for each girl I cried.
A torrent of tears for each girl I sobbed.

 

 

a study toward sonnet #236   by FisherKingKQJ

 
At a loose end I tried out three blind dates:
The first date was goofy and full of flaws,
He was determined to get on with my mates,
He made a fool of himself without pause.
The second date studied small print subclause,
And interrogated me for some detail,
He wanted to staunch my troubles at source,
He magnified against one to one scale.
The third date was a wreckless macho male,
A contrarian or pseudo maverick,
Whose shallow dogma would one day fail,
Whose luck, not genius was his only trick.
O rotten luck, which dogs my basic dreams,
Of mismatches I'd write in pounds of reams.

 

O wretched luck, which dogs my simple dreams.
O wretched luck, which dogs my simple fantasies.
O wretched luck, which dogs my simple reveries.

 

 

a study toward sonnet #235   by FisherKingKQJ

 
So when you read this I know you'll sneer: 
A post-it note by the spineless jellyfish-
After all, I wasn't your type of queer
In our cosy bedsit too far from swish.
I'm one to pussyfoot,  you're two to squish,
I try to articulate exactly what I feel,
And I feel your needs against my wish,
And pleasing, I'm poncey rather than real.
You're not my cup of Earl Grey nor my meal,
But I still respect your right to a hissy fit,
Your public toilet peephole powerdrill deal,
And you warmed to my puppet oven mitt.
Wise Owl and I close the microwave door
On gingerbread men, also you...you whore.

Wise Owl and I close the microwave door.
Wise Owl and I close the microwave gate.
Wise Owl and I close the microwave hatch.

a study toward sonnet #234   by FisherKingKQJ

 
He's a cinch to talk to, and as for humour-
He snickers at all my jokes with a rouse;
There's a glint in his eyes, and the rumour
Of lust as they fall down my cotton blouse.
Is he worth knowing?  I can't help but grouse...
My first impressions I suspect and trust-
He's worth understanding - I just need nous -
Does his feminine side object to lust?
As I'm hard arsed I've got him all but sussed:
He's so lonesome he'd laugh at a wreath,
Or maybe on p he's secretly mussed,
Or...I've got lipgloss smeared on my teeth.
Or I might just chuck in the kitchen sink-
Did he cash in his scratchies, do you think?

 
Or I might just throw in the kitchen sink.
Or I might just throw in the kitchen tub.
Or I might just throw in the kitchen well.

 

a study toward sonnet #232 by FisherKingKQJ


You can just call me Doctor Love, and if
You think I'm dear I straight away remind
You one hundred dollars per hour isn't stiff,
It's philanthropic budget for my kind.
So you've found yourself in a double bind,
Or a zugzwang over love at first sight,
The effortless thing prized, also maligned,
A hormone rush for your damsel or knight.
Yes, first impressions are good, near to right,
As you nudge them through filters of desire-
Beware: self projection might be your plight,
Your ebullience is awkward, but not dire.
I think your crush deserves a second chance,
Or a thousandth if you live by a glance.


I think your crush deserves a second chance.
I think your crush deserves a second go.
I think your crush deserves a second look.

a study toward sonnet #231 by FisherKingKQJ


You don't have to be polite about my beak
You won't see in profile photo portrait,
It's just I give always head on a tweak,
And shadowy, tousled hair undermines fate.
My passion for shoes will never sate-
For boots, stilettoes, platforms, flats
And helps me block, confound and skate
Well past my prior neurosis for hats.
I've enjoyed our recent intimate chats
The trivial, the secular, the profound-
As I shave underarm and pubic mats
I dream your love a lucid shield around.
You'll feel my love so forcefully weak,
Where subliminal worries wreck and wreak.


You'll feel my love so forcefully weak.
You'll feel my love so forcefully feeble.
You'll feel my love so forcefully tame.

a study toward sonnet #230    by FisherKingKQJ

If people were to found out how confused
I am, I would then live in the past tense,
I would be something amnesiac contused
In blushes so juvenile, so immense.
The blazer and short skirt make sense,
Perhaps the low cut chemise is a mistake
Which swells my cleavage as hence to thence,
On crippling stilettoes my arches ache.
My business degree might as well be fake
As I  serve pinot noir to alpha males:
Perhaps the clumsy fellow is a lucky break
And not the bald ex jockey full of tales.
I brush by -  his eyes lock on my bust,
Obliged to tease I tease, surely my thrust.

 

Obliged to tease I tease, surely my thrust.
Obliged to tease I tease, surely my push.
Obliged to tease I tease. surely my stroke.

a study toward sonnet #229   by FisherKingKQJ
 
You sniffed, you snorted into a tissue,
You swore an oath against the wretched man;
And physical attraction wasn't the issue,
It was his brain which needed a trepan.
He slinked designer suits, he fibbed with elan,
You whined, you wiped tears from red eyelids,
You determined how the torture began
When tarts abruptly announced their bids.
I find haphazard passage of time rids
Our hearts of foibles small and risible
With pencil stubs in geometric grids,
I speak as your confidante invisible.
I style and cut your hair into a bob-
Now I'm your friend and you're my blob.
 
 
I style and cut your hair into a bob.
I style and cut your hair into a pageboy.
I style and cut your hair into a shaggy.
 
 
 

a study toward sonnet #228 by FisherKingKQJ

I looked at my distraught friend, I believe,
With the corners of my mouth slightly upturned;
Her tear soaked cheeks, and her neurotic peeve-
They surely meant cool reason had adjourned.
Her eyelids and nostrils a redness burned,
And as she nasally perked up, I bit
My lip hard and in the interim learned
What magnified hurt caused her brow to knit.
My eyes loved, but I thought better of it,
So all the time my lips were sealed
As with a hanky she dabbed at cornered spit,
Her intermittent sobs which mutely pealed.
In love I venture that less can be more-
As to me her peer, her passions now moor.


As to me her peer, her passions now moor.
As to me her peer, her passions now bind.
As to me her peer, her passions now harness.

a study toward sonnet #227   by FisherKingKQJ
 
 
Your dry, demure, and quickly blinking eyes-
They tell me everything your lips do not,
That I've been such an idiot in surmise-
I've tallied something nought, and small a lot.
My terms and conditions were so much rot,
But I'd be solipsistic to withdraw;
I'm trapped, and my stomach is in a knot-
My goofy ways must have stuck in your craw!
The reckless outburst was a schisting flaw
So teasing you to depart, you did leave
And bittersweet irony tempered law-
With a gentle nod please prompt my reprieve.
My darling, dare I speak now of we two?
Your patience with me is only too true.
 
 
Your patience with me is only too true.
Your patience with me is only too candid.
Your patience with me is only too honest. 
  
  

a study toward sonnet #226  by FisherKingKQJ
 
The thin legs and arms I near loved are gone,
The dimpled curt smiles I caught once or twice
Are gone,  so too golden tresses which shone
In immaculate braid, or plait, or splice.
Her identical twin is spoken nice
And society's disease is hindsight plain;
It's easier to cuss against jumping dice
For suicide, misadventure, cruelly slain.
I know I'm the open link in the chain,
That I puzzle what might have been much
With Plato's perfect heaven on the brain
And miss perfect mundane doubles as such,
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a strain
Of epigram, a sad, aspiring touch.
 
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a strain.
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a phrase.
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a riff.

a study toward sonnet #225 by FisherKingKQJ

They were a lovely couple, their lives austere,
And their possessions durable and few
The front door unlocked as theft was so rare
Just a nuance between poor and well to do.
On pennypinch my eyes linger anew,
On dry, stale air in tall glass cabinets
The quaint best crockery unused on view
The sunday best of no tab in debts.
Their love measured decades at nil regrets,
Their own parents lived more spartan still
Where wood stove electric range half begets,
In a museum of testament and will.
And elderly weak with a kindly smile,
Ahead of time about the love worthwhile.


Ahead of time about the love worthwhile.
Ahead of time about the love meaningful.
Ahead of time about the love valuable.

a study toward sonnet #224 by FisherKingKQJ

I send this message to you, my old mate,
By invisible ink, by signal posture, by word
Unspoken mouthed, as very early seems too late
For telepathic laughs at the absurd.
I've spied you with her, you're undeterred,
Her charm is generic, her manner how do you do,
And from her sweet lips bad things never heard,
You know that I know you secretly woo.
It kills me, but we're alike through and through,
So if she should yield her darkness to reveal
Her flaws, you'd be the first to taste her true,
I'd be the last to see her grow and heal.
Her flirtatious good looks are a dog's ear,
I'm forced to read between lines when you're near.


I'm forced to read between lines when you're near.
I'm forced to read between lines when your close.
I'm forced to read between lines when you're proxy.

a study toward sonnet #223 by FisherKingKQJ

You're such a barometer for a storm
With trepidation we still venture out
And if anxious silence is quite the norm
It antes opportunity past doubt.
If the typhoon is self inflicted rout
There's mutual schadenfreude in capsize
And roaming tornado turns slick waterspout
And where typhoons die, hurricanes arise.
Half asleep I roll between your firm thighs
And roil a two star motel waterbed
A porpoise a dolphin carnally implies
Seasick nauseous, and so easily lead.
Neptune's neon trident flashes green then blue,
And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones brew.

And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones brew.
And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones draw.
And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones infuse.

a study toward sonnet #222 by FisherKingKQJ

I caught philosophy in her sweet mien,
A phrase so timed as not to condescend,
There's no error as to what she might mean,
It's agreed: you're so much more than a friend.
And her laugh reminds you which rule to bend,
And her quivering lips smooth a silent spell
In your small talk, to which your own wend,
And there, your unspoken misgivings quell.
You're not intimate but you know her well,
So what is this mythic meeting of minds?
Your mind and her mind attract and repel-
Are melons weighted with or without rinds?
She draws circles in circles with thick lines-
But are the lines in the circles what defines?

She draws circles in circles with thick lines.
She draws circles in circles with thick marks.
She draws circles in circles with thick strokes.

a study toward sonnet #221 by FisherKingKQJ

And society so boxes itself in
With hindsight, and historians wrap
Their careers with tyrants's skin,
The money a bookmark in wad foolscap.
To subtleties of syphilis this pap
Is immune, to the minuscule detour-
A dynamic to the major mishap,
And simply heaps the merchant seesaw.
The monks of the Himalayas restore
Our sublime ch'i of six prong snow flakes,
In a six foot radius they melt deep hoar,
They kneel thus, their bodyheat gently bakes.
The spark in your eyes is rare as an ohm,
My love for you is a chant of the om.


The spark in your eyes is rare as an ohm.
The spark in your eyes is rare as a volt.
The spark in your eyes is rare as a watt.

This sonnet is a holistic composite of the sort of person I sometimes meet in Auckland City.

sonnet #220 by FisherKingKQJ

As you've been in a custody battle
My eyes have caressed your back and profile-
For lesser things I've felt the rattle;
Observer by proxy, it makes me smile.
The tracer bullets of the country mile
I should be giving you by beacon rumour,
In a peculiar way it would stymie my style
I've known two suicides, I've beaten a tumour,
So I'm the boy you'll cosset and humour,
I'm the shoulder of a friend of a mate,
No acquaintance could love you more:
I won't filibuster or obfuscate.
All your troubles I wish would vanish,
All your hurt downsize, then vanquish.

All your troubles I wish would vanish.
All your troubles I wish would disappear.
All your troubles I wish would absent.

I've got some rough ideas for a trilogy of plays tentatively called 'Low-Life'. It's sort of backward looking and the characters have been simmering away for a decade or two.

After the 400 love sonnets I think I'll publish a limited edition of another 100.

a study toward sonnet #217 by FisherKingKQJ

The sister you've put down, you've estranged,
Has entered the picture so as to quizz
And upend your essence; you're both deranged,
And the madness complementary is.
The other simmers where one is a fizz-
My dilemma: I don't know which one to woo,
The bumbling gorm or the effortless whizz,
Both simultaneously true and untrue.
You've opened my mind to a relaxed view
As to why we're intimate in the dark
In shadow stripe, mute light of crimson hue,
I'll hold back any polarising remark.
Things often aren't what they seem to appear
When pretty sisters present as a pair.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Things often aren't what they seem to appear.
Things often aren't what they seem to externalise.
Things often aren't what they seem to look.

a study towards sonnet #216 by FisherKingKQJ

The wig and cloak and gavel are now boon
For philosophy of life as a game
But I say the elite judge is a buffoon
Till electricity is free, and love the aim.
My sweet, I find his argument lame
And does he order pain across the board?
Cardboard box and penthouse are not the same
To that gerrymander and stonewall lord.
So where does he tuck his rare greenback hoard?
In a kingsized mattress eight feet tall
His top rung intellect is underscored,
The gap between sheets, wife and ceiling small.
It's the limitless love ahead I fear
Yet your free bee stung lips are such sweet fare.

{3D interactive chorus:}

It's the limitless love ahead I fear.
It's the limitless love ahead I dread.
It's the limitless love ahead I cringe.