a study toward sonnet #282 by FisherKingKQJ


The moment I became a little girl,
The men, besotted began to hit on me;
Sure, I've lost my golden baby curl
But gentlemen still adore what they see.
I'm pre-emptive for the masculine mind,
They're always ready to grope, to pounce-
The law cordons off my boobs and behind-
Girls, the gods gave me this vital ounce.
As much as you might ogle, flirt and flounce,
Though your beauty is diluted by a quart,
Wolfwhistles to me all your angles trounce:
It's my superb hourglass figure they court.
But most of all men call me a frigger,
It's not under fragrant, so go figure.


It's not under fragrant, so go figure.
It's not under fragrant, so go analyse.
It's not under fragrant, so go diagnose.

a study toward sonnet #281 by FisherKingKQJ


I clasped the undersides of my knees
Above and over his shoulder blades
I received delicate strokes of ease
So unlike the missionary which jades.
I sobbed softly at his probing raids
And peculiarly felt myself denied
It was one of those fun unfair trades
I jockeyed for the position inside.
His groans were low whereas I cried
Aloud and shook and I felt a sunburst
As I felt his comets inside me slide
And thereby a supernova was nursed.
My hair was clotted by my joyful tears,
Also, he does have the tiniest of rears.


Also, he does have the tiniest of rears.
Also, he does have the tiniest of arses.
Also, he does have the tiniest of backsides.

a study toward sonnet #280 by FisherKingKQJ


A fictitious Mrs as my surname,
By proxy a saucy grand duchess-
All men covet what other men claim-
My scandalous success breeds success.
A veil of fine gauze, a satin white dress,
And best of all - my two timing watches-
The silver trinket one I love no less-
Lord Melbourne is one of my top notches.
I see the creme de la creme of crotches,
Now, it's through a theatre box seat spyglass
In worsted pants free of telltale splotches,
I curtsy as Covent's favourite lass.
And noblewoman exclaim my beauty
My diamond necklace carries no duty.


My diamond necklace carries no duty.
My diamond necklace carries no fee.
My diamond necklace carries no tarrif.

He leaned on a step of the stepladder...


He leaned on a step of the stepladder,
The rung back legs were terrible crook,
Our best china shelf just got me madder-
I wiggled the duster in the farthest nook.
But then I quickly took another look
At him - his eyes sat firmly on my peach-
He read like a leatherbound antique book-
I might wriggle then wiggle out of reach.
He took the chance to air a stale set speech:
The exertion had turned my cheeks a pink,
And the worldy lesson this might teach:
Such behaviour had an orgasmic link.
Though he gives me an adrenalin rush
He's through on ambiguities of a blush!

Though he gives me an adrenalin rush.
Though he gives me an adrenalin buzz.
Though he gives me an adrenalin high.

a study toward sonnet #276 by FisherKingKQJ


He smirked at me - it raised my chagrin -
And before I could complete my sentence
He touched a finger on my lip and chin
And kissed away my lingering pretence.
My raspberries stood erect and a sense
Of tingling invaded my aching breasts
And I held my breath in teasing suspense
My lace bra outline brailled its two requests.
Upset, I'd been staring into a space
And thinking through an unfair parking fine-
In a blindspot he'd somehow taken a place-
I'd always admired him down the line.
That's how a bizarre little office prang
Upsized from a slow burn to a big bang.


That's how a bizarre little office prang.
That's how a bizarre little office crash.
That's how a bizarre little office ding.

a study towards sonnet #275 by FisherKingKQJ


{The characters in the following sonnet are fictional and any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.}


I'm sick of my hoes who know only bling
Who no more put out for their pedicures-
It's wasted viagra when pork's in a sling
When back up sisters lose their allures.
I put them in the lear jet as an up yours
I u turned the gulf stream to the north pole-
If only two fifty thread truly endures
I'll fly in the king sized bed for my soul.
An all night Viking suntan was my goal-
Then I saw Jesus in white boots on ice,
In two layers of chinchilla out I stole-
Barefoot I stepped out on an iceberg slice.
I'm abominable snowman, my dear-
With a mobile phone frozen to my ear.


I'm abominable snowman, my dear.
I'm abominable snowman, my honey.
I'm abominable snowman, my love.

a study toward sonnet #274 by FisherKingKQJ



The white shadow in your photo portrait
Envelopes a nurturing guardian ghoul-
And now you hit a calamitous strait,
It promises solution as a rule.
It knows you've been mistaken for a fool-
As ectoplasm on a flash memory plays-
It disarms with white magic spells the cruel
As you remain in a mystified haze.
It shields you in an upheaval or a laze-
Your uncle's love no condition can rort
Or buckle or fudge or divert or raze-
So your heart doesn't have to hide in a fort.
I placed a hand on him and got a vibe-
It's love not open to auction or to bribe.


It's love not open to auction or to bribe.
It's love not open to auction or to graft.
It's love not open to auction or payola.

a study toward sonnet #273 by FisherKingKQJ


But can you keep my dirty little secret?
I mean I'm not exactly a virgin...
And what is there in pleasure to regret-
Even- with your darling dental surgeon?
Amazingly, he got his own dirge in-
His dull work and family brought him sobs-
And I felt my kinky desire burgeon,
I felt his eyes rest on my fulsome knobs.
I was myself as it were, between jobs,
I guided his hand up my micro skirt,
And I'm not the sort who teases then fobs-
While I gave him head, he was sobbing curt.
How I got my Hollywood mouthguard smile-
By using my wits and feminine wile.


By using my wits and feminine wile.
By using my wits and feminine cunning.
By using my wits and feminine insight.

a study toward sonnet #272


Maybe boys in leather thongs who gyrate
Are my thing - I'm terribly unaware
Of my own life, my mood swings to irate
One moment, the next to bubbling cheer.
After a beer and chaser shot I can leer
Unbridled at a hard hat and tool belt,
A strip down to white boxer underwear,
A smooth ribcage and a backside svelte.
The women ooh and aah; he's often dealt
Crude remarks or a witty wolf-whistle,
And oddly, my vacant heart could melt
As I heatsearch over his love missile.
The astronomic price of cocktail drinks
Always back to humdrum reality links.


Always back to humdrum reality links.
Always back to humdrum reality connects.
Always back to humdrum reality joins.

a study toward sonnet #271 by FisherKingKQJ


Diary, her outbursts and sarcasm versus
My silent treatment and slamming walkouts,
Her batch of frowns and moans and trivial fuss
Versus my eyerolls and sniffles in bouts!
And so we've had a powwow which reroutes
Our love affair as tit for tat ice cool-
And I'm sure she has her own secret doubts-
But a roster is better than a wreckless duel.
She's as stubborn as the proverbial mule
But I think I'd love her much the less
If she hung on every word with a drool
And smirked at my opionions under duress.
Today I'm set to do a rotten chore-
Tomorrow waits a duty she'll abhor.


Tomorrow waits a duty she'll abhor.
Tomorrow waits a duty she'll hate.
Tomorrow waits a duty she'll loathe.

{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

a study toward sonnet #270 by FisherKingKQJ


You know my girl from the human genome,
She builds thick walls against the ravages
Of a brutal world and calls the place home
Away from gross, clamouring savages.
She defies several gender adages-
She's silent or hardly speaks a sentence,
She anticipates and does things by stages-
She's far too trusting and dislikes pretence.
She relies on good luck and her sixth sense
And to people's auras and vibes, she's a sponge
But when it comes to people's failings she's dense
She's ever ready to pedestal then expunge.
You know my sweet girl who you've never met
You love her shyness as well, which we fete.


You know my sweet girl who you've never met.
You know my sweet girl who you've never convened.
You know my sweet girl who you've never joined.



{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

a study toward sonnet #269 by FisherKingKQJ


Our first meeting played out like a gig,
Your unique and novel ways so thespian,
From a green room, your hair a clever wig,
Or my heart beat faster for a lesbian.
As the conversation turned pedestrian
And shadows subtly mutated your nose
And shaped your jutting bust halter hessian
I couldn't help but shift to kissing close.
I wondered about your laddered pantyhose,
I wondered if you were mannered or unique,
I would ask when the natural chance arose
I might an ambiguous situation tweak.
The world seems bespoke peculiar show,
But I love you as hallow and hollow.


But I love you as hallow and hollow.
But I love you as hallow and absent.
But I love you as hallow and empty.

a study toward sonnet #268 by FisherKingKQJ


Accept the hex see-yous, tatas, goodbyes,
My dark side has rotated quite enough
On your irreverence, Ms Thunder-Thighs,
As much as you're made of superior stuff.
Your value system - it looks up the duff,
Against some physical defects you bitch,
Against sebaceous glands full of dandruff,
Against girlish giggles at macho pitch,
Against hairy moles with a nervous twitch,
Against thick, joined eyebrows raised at a hint,
Against small boobs in scarce a bra or stitch,
Against foaming lipless mouths sharp as flint.
I was mesmerised by your flagrant bile,
Now I find your wilful ignorance vile.


I was mesmerised by your flagrant bile.
I was mesmerised by your flagrant phlegm.
I was mesmerised by your flagrant venom.



{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

a study toward sonnet #266 by FisherKingKQJ


Old media fame loosed crooks on me fast-
I got sixty grand compo for the scale
Of razor barbs - even in plaster cast
My ribs and knees quiver, my elbows quail.
I was overpriced by the terms of bail,
Against remand too weak to argue
I turned tv critic on a pitch and sale-
To infomercial new age respect due.
I got a crush on that wicca chick Sue,
A golden serpent twisted up my spine;
A golden ball on my ankle, we flew
Above the exercise yard, rain or shine.
If there's a choice: tv babe or parole-
I'd rather take gate fever on the whole.


I'd rather take gate fever on the whole.
I'd rather take gate fever on the balance.
I'd rather take gate fever on the line.


{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

a study toward sonnet #265 by FisherkingKQJ


Bluff consent-
You now mine,
Malcontent
Yet benign.
Mien divine
Love enclave,
Gruff, supine,
Gaze you grave.
Love you gave
Me for quids,
Vibes that save,
Spared me skids.
Love you nude,
Love you brood.


Love you brood.
Love you ponder.
Love you mull.


{Proof of concept for interactive movies}

a study toward sonnet #264 by FisherKingKQJ


Judge Black-White is a ruddy hypocrite
For fining me two hundred buckeroos,
He cares not a drag queen periwigged whit
Outside bribes about unisex public loos.
I'd just finished my rolypoly poos
At Greenwoods Corner in ritzy Epsom-
The charge of exposure to me was news-
I haven't seen my pork since I was slim.
Judge Black-White, bigot, went out on a limb
To persecute me as test case obese-
He daintily banged a gavel on a whim-
It's me who's had gangrene up to the knees!
Look, I'm a jolly rolypoly poof
So the biddy had neither witness or proof.


Look, I'm a jolly rolypoly poof.
Look, I'm a jolly rolypoly homo.
Look, I'm a jolly rolypoly fag.


{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

a study toward sonnet #263 by FisherKingKQJ


I'm telling you this as your best girlfriend
From way back - talking to your self image
In the mirrors, working up a script to rend
Him neutral can but end in a scrimmage.
What you need is a supernatural gauge
Of your obsessive love relationship;
I'm speaking to you now as sage to sage,
About Scorpio wriggling into Pluto's grip.
I see you by scented candlelight sip
A merlot, surrounded by photographs
Of you and him you want to halve and snip...
You liberate him with thoughts and laughs.
Obsessive thoughts now take the telepath
And you change him with love, not wrath.


And you change him with love, not wrath.
And you change him with love, not anger.
And you change him with love, not ire.


{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

studies toward sonnets #261 and #262 by FisherKingKQJ


sonnet #261


Lesbian lank,
Bruises blue;
Piggy bank
Revenue.
Stand by man
Solo mum,
In the can
Welfare bum.
Crewcut dash,
Cock-a-hoop;
Tribad mash,
Toys in troop.
Rough and rash
Pump and droop.


Rough and rash.
Rough and careless.
Rough and haphazard.




sonnet #262 by FisherKingKQJ


Wastrel wings
Clipped to base-
Sad, she sings
Face to face.
Underpraise
Can love dull,
Note of grace
Earlobes scull.
Skirt of tulle,
Silk chemise,
Now annul
Brain disease.
Whatever was,
Less the loss.


Less the loss.
Less the cut.
Less the drop.


{Proofs of concept for interactive movies.}

a study toward sonnet #260 by FisherKingKQJ


You're as ambiguous as midnight and noon
And turn to simple craft or arcane art;
I'm oriented to the anxious false start,
If you leave won't be a moment too soon.
And tiny doses of your ways are a boon,
I can separate from the whole the part
I still love, it's impressed on my heart,
And I'm sure you too for a quarter moon.
In photos there are laughs and no to-do
The sky is indifferent even blue-
We can be calm in our skins evermore-
For others on a given solstice day;
As I preach an outrageous as a may,
You superimpose on after before.


You superimpose on after before.
You superimpose on after earlier.
You superimpose on after previous.


{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

studies toward sonnets 258 and 259; revision of sonnet #218

sonnet # 258 by FisherKingKQJ

Your air kiss
For revel;
My low hiss
To level.
I, shallow
Faucet, seep;
You, callow
Safehole, steep.
Tubs we've cried,
Up till choke;
Wrinkled pride
Still we soak.
Clockwise screw,
Plug I you.


Clockwise screw.
Clockwise turn.
Clockwise wind.




a study toward sonnet #259 by FisherKingKQJ


Love plays out between Joshua and Rahab
At Ramallah casino, the stasis
For muslim horror and zion landgrab-
In blackjack they've both courted low aces.
And piped in trumpets deliver graces,
And her white, low cut halter is a bust,
A dealer strokes king, queen, jack two-faces
As she flicks card with card, I blush and lust.
And if the crapshoot dice cubes seem unjust
And if zero poker machines will crack,
Upstairs they mingle with the uppercrust,
Where a whale might sponsor her naked back.
Joshua and Rahab, who enchant the walls
Of Jericho - even masonry falls.


Of Jericho - even masonry falls.
Of Jericho - even masonry drops.
Of Jericho - even masonry tumbles.



revison of a study toward sonnet #217 by FisherKingKQJ


I forget
A white lie
She tells; I
Sometimes fret.
I love, yet;
Pound for pound;
Where we met,
I kiss ground.
Quick in deed,
Rich in thought,
Guaranteed
Fun onslaught.
She's the score
I adore.


She's the score.
She's the notch.
She's the tally.

a study toward sonnet t#257 by FisherKingKQJ


And so with you always, I'd lay siege
To citadels, palaces, and castles
Of kings, emperors, emirs, my liege,
All fell to our sabres and taut muscles.
And do you remember our great tussles-
That we subdued Lascaris the august,
Petrion's protostrator best of hustles
Of the countless potentates of bloodlust.
Philopation we reduced mouldy dust
And crowned a puppet ruler in his place,
So please now those spoils to me entrust,
Or any thoughts of you I will erase.
It's agape love of the second crusade,
Or back to the love of a fickle maid.


Or back to the love of a fickle maid.
Or back to the love of a fickle damsel.
Or back to the love of a fickle girl.


{Proof of concept for interactive movies.}

Hybrid poker machine jukebox.

a study toward sonnet #256 by FisherKingKQJ


To the workaday schedule you adhere,
But you'd like to sleep another half hour,
When your night owl ch'i is at a nadir
I rouse you sullen if not outright sour.
My mind read you can read, you've that power,
I can guess you toy with suicide by cop
Ahead of a blush in a steaming shower,
Where your black, crazy feelings you drop.
You've made bold career moves, but a prop
Or a walker for your spine you pine for
Too embarrassed to go over the top
To enquire for help more and more and more.
I've brought in latte bowls and mousetraps
On a tray to soothe away routine relapse.


On a tray to soothe away routine relapse.
On a tray to soothe away routine backtrack.
On a tray to soothe away routine falter.

a study toward sonnet #255 by FisherkingKQJ


I woke up for a change at the crack of dawn,
As you might recall, the birdsong chorus
Accompanying stretches and a yawn
And you caught the yawn with minimal fuss.
So there we were paralysed, the two of us
Infected and cross infected by peace
And yawns at trivial things we used to cuss
And I read your mind to do what I please.
I passed a shuffling tramp confined to ease
And yawned at him, then he at me yawned back
I sailed past an asthmatic on her wheeze
And yawned at her, then she at me yawned tack.
And round the world travelled the yawn bug
Disarming the bellicose and the smug.


And around the world travelled the yawn bug.
And around the world travelled the yawn disease.
And around the world travelled the yawn lurg.

a study toward sonnet #254 by FisherKingKQJ


I live for my Mickey Jockitch faux coat,
My peddlepusher stonewashed Chlamy jeans,
My leatherette PVD stole of stoat,
My Jackie Koo cork heels geared to teens.
My taste to designer labels now leans,
I don't make love for money, but I barter
My hourglass cameo shape on changing screens
For say, a St Vaunt one off silk garter.
Call me sugardaddy, I'm a starter
For a candy girl sitting on my knee,
For a lush call girl just that bit smarter,
Whose Turkish delight rings up sales tax free.
Voluptuous Venus, ran your saucy ad-
About young girls I'm crazy, if not mad.


About young girls I'm crazy, if not mad.
About young girls I'm crazy, if not bonkers.
About young girls I'm crazy, if not insane.

a study toward sonnet #253 by FisherKingKQJ


I can't forgive you - you remain the cause
Of my salty tears, and yet there's a void
In my life which overlooks all your flaws-
If you come back now, I'll be overjoyed.
In my position you would be annoyed,
Too, if you came home early from the job
And the fairy who loved you, who cloyed,
You Discovered osculating his knob.
You twisted your face, and you shot your gob
As you kneeled at a flat screen of mules
And tigons and ligers, a hybrid mob,
A wildlife of Gaelic or Aussie rules.
I'll adjust to your voyeuristic kink,
Every skyrocket love has a downlink.



I'll adjust to your voyeuristic kink.
I'll adjust to your voyeuristic deviance.
I'll adjust to your voyeuristic tangent.

a study toward sonnet #252 by FisherKingKQJ


Girls, you do know I never got a chance
To whittle that mummy's boy down to size;
I suggest you take a resolute stance
And reject a sheep in sheep's get up guise.
It doesn't matter how cutely he plies
If milk pours last into the cup of tea-
Then he's an apologist to despise,
Then he's back to front, then you're all at sea.
I copped a weak compromise as his plea:
He quartered my tea, firstly tea then milk
Then tea then milk - he poured saw-see,
What girl would be drawn to his tea bag ilk?
He sneaked an aspirin into the pot
As red crayfish boiled screaming hot.



He sneaked an aspirin into the pot.
He sneaked an aspirin into the tub.
He sneaked an aspirin into the urn.

a study toward sonnet #245 by FisherKingKQJ

Not every woman here is on the game,
It's in the stars that we have a quickie,
In fate we've no intrinsic sexual shame,
Venus in Pisces is nothing icky.
I'd say the same if I was that picky,
The new moon is in your money sector-
You'll triumph and close deals so tricky
Regardless of how your rivals hector.
And a spanish fly can be our vector
With sips of bordeaux from dewy crystal,
I'm no gold digging husband prospector
You surely by now fathom and distil.
I'm the front for an escort or a whore,
The receptionist who b oo kk ee ps the score.


I'm the front for an escort or a whore.
I'm the front for an escort or a hooker.
I'm the front for an escort or a prostitute.

a study toward sonnet #248 by FisherKingKQJ


I know this is the honest love meant
By self help manuals and agony columns
And hypnotists of such popular bent,
The glory grit of peaks and doldrums.
We reverted to early days as chums
And tickled each the other's funnybone
About breakfast in bed dry many crumbs,
And how it only just beats living alone.
And each gives the other time to atone,
Is fused in place by an urge to succeed;
I look out for him in the trouble zone
When plentiful signs warning he won't heed.
My pulse speeds up at the sound of his voice
Or laugh, and to love him it defies choice.


Or laugh, and to love him it defies choice.
Or laugh, and to love him it defies picking.
Or laugh, and to love him it defies selecting.

A few words about myself. My name is FisherKingKQJ, I was grievously wounded during the second crusade 1298 AD in Jerusalem; my military order is St John Ambulance and to this very day the St John Ambulance flags fly on the turrets of my castle in Malta. My business empire is a saltworks. In the mission to administer the Grail of everlasting life I've set aside 10% of every commission of 3D text for tv for the deaf charities and 10% of every commission of 3D photography for the blind charities.
Faithfully transcribed in the year of our Lord, 2004.
abacad ab raj
ebeced eb rex
ubucud ub rul

a study toward sonnet #251 by FisherKingKQJ


I'm a dissembler, and never a cheat,
But you've made me just another number,
So take me off your Chinese menu sheet
And no longer shall I skulk and lumber.
I'd guess that you need someone dumber,
A moron or an idiot, and yet, I think
You do love me, your heart in a slumber,
Your ch'i unable to ease off the brink.
You've booted down or kicked up a stink
About my upcoming boys' only bash-
If I can't enjoy a friend and a drink,
Then I've calculated this our last pash.
You must've picked up as an amateur spy
That in u-turns and setbacks I'm not sly.


That in u-turns and setbacks I'm not sly.
That in u-turns and setbacks I'm not adept.
That in u-turns and setbacks I'm not wiley.

a study toward sonnet #250 by FisherKingKQJ


My trademark surly pout on the catwalk
My asexual boyfriend's street label chic
My towering anorexia are all the talk
Of tabloids as well as my twofaced clique.
I can count on you my friend, for a leak
To the media re the Spring catalogue
You can guess the gimmick by the squeak-
The bleached labrats haut couture flog.
I'm mad that rodents all the limelight hog,
Let alone their reattached stem cell dicks-
And then down puffs into this sterile bog
A weaponised wash powder in two ticks.
Vaseline and mascara for black eyes
To get the smokey look wifebeaters prize.



To get the smokey look wifebeaters prize.
To get the smokey look wifebeaters esteem.
To get the smokey look wifebeaters value.

a revision of love sonnet #20 by FisherKingKQJ

Her moods are limited yet they express,
If sad, she'll weep, if thrilled, too, she'll cry;
A doppel deed of lack and then excess,
Her blue redrimmed eyes beckon, yet decry.
Her smile's an icecold meteor flashing by,
Her giggle sidles quasars for their spin,
Her weight is twin suns offset in blue sky,
Her verve ends just as neutron stars begin,
Her secrets are white dwarves with gassy skin,
Her past is wormholes looking for a clue,
Her views are x rays from a blackhole bin,
Her diary reads a multiverse long due.
The Milky Way's desolving, sparkling twirl
Compares to quizzing blue eyes of my girl.

(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 twirl
o $10,000,000 roll
o $10,000,000 spin

[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]

a study toward sonnet #249 by FisherKingKQJ


Your loaded silences and your vitriol,
Your belittlements of what I achieve,
Your vicious putdowns aimed at my soul,
They're but a few reasons I have to leave.
Life in a pressure cooker I won't grieve:
You put blame on others when you blunder,
Your manipulation makes me dry heave
And as conceit is your defence you thunder.
Acquaintances you have you tear asunder,
And lasting friendships are scarce,
You talk down to me as if a child, no wonder
Your fall back plan is a tantrum so fierce.
I'm leaving because of your cellulite
And as you're getting more and more uptight.



And as you're getting more and more uptight.
And as you're getting more and more difficult.
And as you're getting more and more neurotic.

a revision of a study toward sonnet #25 by FisherKingKQJ


In front of the television I fell asleep
And dreamed myself a stern metallic knight;
You yourself were an exiled castle-keep
Who'd brazenly laid siege in broad daylight.
Your braids under a wimple, you cut a slight
But tomboy figure at the trebuchet,
You rattled loud arrows honied for flight,
You shot me with a thorny rose bouquet.
Through loopholes I glanced your lovelorn foray-
The waterbowl rippled: I heard the taps
And scrapes of spades, I felt the castle sway-
Under the moat by tunnel you'd ferried saps.
Besotted and tremulous, I now yield
To you my chainmail, crossbow and shield.



Besotted and tremulous, I now yield.
Besotted and tremulous, I now cede.
Besotted and tremulous, I now waive.

a study toward love sonnet #247 by FisherKingKQJ


He was a gentleman, and he did what I asked
And he's...never returned a mobile text!
As I nodded off, he'd drowsily basked,
His arms behind head, perhaps oversexed.
I had a crush on him, but now I was vexed-
His taste in music and clothes was elite
He could anticipate whatever next
His flattery was low key and yet sweet.
Inside the cream duvet and white bed sheet
My ankles tapped his thighs to make him come,
So I could assume a more comfy neat
As I felt my calves go gangrenous numb.
As I passed him hot tears inside I shed,
On the escalators, our watershed.


As I passed him hot tears inside I shed.
As I passed him hot tears inside I freed.
As I passed him hot tears inside I loosed.

a study toward sonnet #246 by FisherKingKQJ


In the powder room of a small nightclub,
At the mirrors she wiped a lippy streak;
She'd studied me in the dancefloor hubbub,
My brunette looks had an urban mystique.
She said she could be bold where I was meek,
And licked my ear and kissed and licked my nape,
Her frenchkiss was far more than tongue in cheek,
Her backside was firm and a narrow shape.
She pushed up my bra and I hers to ape,
We rubbed raspberries till they pointed up,
She pushed me against a curtain or drape,
Her hand in my undies contoured a cup.
I'd only cuddled a girl once before that-
It takes three doubles to get into my twat.


It takes three doubles to get into my twat.
It takes three doubles to get into my box.
It takes three doubles to get into my pussy.

a study toward sonnet #244 by FisherKingKQJ


A geezer wiggled up through the sunroof
Of a red Bambina and pinched my butt-
On the motorscooters, slick yet aloof
Young leatherclad toughs winked me a slut.
Chin up, yet unwilling to walk eyes shut,
I wiggled past the other geezers' leer,
Across trattorie cobblestones I cut,
Amid arm and fistflexing lustful cheer.
A geezer with a midriff like a pear
And his pants belted halfway up his chest
Aloud whispered for everyone to hear
That I was heaven for a cardiac arrest.
My Relentino tube dress and flipflops
Like chianti and canapes were the tops.


My Relentino tube dress and flipflops.
My Relentino tube dress and heels.
My Relentino tube dress and sandals.

a study toward sonnet #244 by FisherKingKQJ


A geezer wiggled up through the sunroof
Of a red Bambina and pinched my butt-
On the motorscooters, slick yet aloof
Young leatherclad toughs winked me a slut.
Chin up, yet unwilling to walk eyes shut,
I wiggled past the other geezers' leer,
Across trattorie cobblestones I cut,
Amid arm and fistflexing lustful cheer.
A geezer with a midriff like a pear
And his pants belted halfway up his chest
Aloud whispered for everyone to hear
That I was heaven for a cardiac arrest.
My Relentino tube dress and flipflops
Like chianti and canapes were the tops.


My Relentino tube dress and flipflops.
My Relentino tube dress and heels.
My Relentino tube dress and sandals.

a study toward sonnet # 243 by FisherKingKQJ


I've been through a truckload of female flesh
It's goddesses and molls are my slam dunk
It's thrusting feminists with whom I mesh
And I've ballbusted the odd man while drunk.
I'll lay a frigid stone butch in a bunk
Who's generous with her pout and her tongue
I'll lay a dike king dressed as an executive hunk
Who'll double dildo my tight box and my bung
I'll lay a baby butch with lips bee stung
In fatigues and sorbet by the dollop
I'll lay them bluerinsed, botox'd or young,
I'll lay them cultured and prim or trollop.
As yet I've never found my Joan of Arc
But love isn't romance if not a lark.


But love isn't romance if not a lark.
But love isn't romance if not a hoot.
But love isn't romance if not a jig.

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.

a study toward sonnet #215 by FisherKingKQJ

You know I'm a bad ass rock and roll chick
And at Lake Alice psych I paid my dues
I've got an ex con boyfriend cruel and thick
And we timeshare leadbelly's aching blues.
My shoulders are hickeys where not a bruise
He'd never cut my pretty face or neck
He's not like prettyboys who charm and use
The sort of vacant face my boots'd like wreck.
He loves me, his very own smart alec
His ecstasy and p are panacea for my ills
Our bedsheets are crap stain and blood fleck
After a mickey finn he takes me as he wills.
My friend Carol, too, suffers for our art
Cheek tattoos and yellow teeth are a start.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My friend Carol, too, suffers for our art.
My friend Carol, too, suffers for our creativity.
My friend Carol, too, suffers for our muse.

a study toward sonnet #214 by FisherKingKQJ

At the centre of ourselves is some
Dark matter, only a speck semantics
So I'm not quitting the rule of thumb
The parallel universe of your tricks.
Your love outweighs your hatred in the mix
That is my faith, the stars themselves peer
In power, intensity, distance and fix
In the nightsky; they neither blink nor veer.
They are portals for time travel I swear,
The crucibles to temper the doubting heart,
The Earth's core a white dwarf, dusty nuclear,
Our universe a black hole for the most part.
My love, you're a mystery as we speak
Your topic is touched in tangental squeak.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My love, you're a mystery as we speak.
My love, you're a mystery as we banter.
My love, you're a mystery as we chat.

a study toward sonnet #213 by FisherKingKQJ

Subordinate to Galen, life, and death,
My passion is distributed and free;
As hate and envy are a waste of breath,
I become what other people say of me.
I experience things more as they should be:
Like any student nurse I bow and scrimp
A teaching ward, a racket tuition fee:
After hours I'll volunteer pout and primp.
You're member politick or bludger gimp,
I'll throw in a funky, free, bodyslam,
I can turn this condom into a blimp,
I can disabuse you of your wee dram.
A registrar's sixty hours hardly pays-
You can lord it later, inject your haze.

{3D interactive chours:}

A registrar's sixty hours hardly pays.
A registrar's sixty hours hardly monies.
A registrar's sixty hours hardly renumerates.

a study toward sonnet #212 by FisherKingKQJ

I crave your long, pale, thin arms and elbows
Which fill out white, goatkid, stitched, full length gloves,
Your tight hipped turquoise dress over stilettoes-
Your bobbed red hair and pout round out my loves.
Eyes blue and white blinking, empyreal doves
In summer's last blush flutter, judge and swoop,
Your quietly cooing and throaty voice shoves
Us all out of its migratory and closed loop.
So we're a loyal, irrational group
We chauffeurs, ex-cons, busboys and drag queens,
Tonguetied, hopeful as to whether you'd stoop
To stomping a heel through consecutive spleens.
From your smooth, botox single wrinkled brow
From your eyes, too, your fringe you blow.

{3D interactive chorus:}

From your eyes, too, your fringe you blow.
From your eyes, too, your fringe you huff.
From your eyes, too, your fringe you puff.

a study toward sonnet #211 by FisherKingKQJ

My love, may your ecstasies be sated,
And your miseries transient, small and few,
May your care for the ill be known and rated,
May a run of good luck wrap all you do.
May water freeze under your flat heeled shoe,
May fire heat your aura into fireball,
May earth yield you guavas to suck and chew,
May air ooze ozone to keep your mind in thrall.
To praise myself now might seem devious small,
But it's you I now unconsciously ape-
I empathise with the downtrodden, I quit a brawl,
All to stroke back your hair, to kiss your nape.
You're a halo crested gnomon which casts a shade-
Without you life would be vacuous and staid.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Without you life would be vacuous and staid.
Without you life would be vacuous and dull.
Without you life would be vacuous and grey.

Mickey Munter: I flew my hot air ballon to the brink
Of Wall St to tickle a Wall St bank;
As heroes do, I pocketted a greenback tithe
To democratise sooty black sweet teeth.

"Mickey Munter and the Moneytree" is the title I've finally settled on for a political satire. $100 billion of debt is a lot of...lolly. That's after love sonnet #400.

"Mickey Munter and the Moneytree" is the title I've finally settled on for a political satire. $100 billion of debt is a lot of...lolly. That's after love sonnet #400.

a study toward sonnet #210 by FisherKingKQJ

My real self I'm afraid of, I hardly know
And dispel in heady gulps of ocean breeze;
I might come across as a know all so and so,
You could call me ignorant and ill at ease.
But you yourself try too too hard to please,
With a compulsion to flirt and amuse
You cruelly enforce a social disease,
You're an affable, mechanical ruse.
You swim in boiling ozone greenish hues,
You're salted waist down for all kinds of men;
To licks of bullkelp sick sailors carouse
And give up carbuncles to your bedrock den.
Let me swoon the oozing brine of your breath,
My mermaid, swish and propel width and breadth.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Let me swoon the oozing brine of your breath.
Let me swoon the oozing brine of your hale.
Let me swoon the oozing brine of your spire.

a study toward sonnet #209 by FisherKingKQJ

I'm in a quandary of sorts, and now
I've left a common law ten year span wife
To whom I could no longer speak or kowtow,
All petered out in a ritualised life.
With menopause comes the ironic strife
And history of menses and countless eggs
Which were flushed away, to bluntly knife
My nostalgia for failure, surely dregs.
Perhaps to Don Juan the situation begs
Compare, perhaps he played the monthly cycle
And perhaps he moved on as they shut their legs,
At first a sirroco, then an icicle.
What am I saying, who pushes who, who shoos?
It's just a case of new heels for old shoes.

{3D interactive chorus:}

What am I saying, who pushes who, who shoos?
What am I saying, who pushes who, who parries?
What am I saying, who pushes who, who rebuffs.

a study toward sonnet #208 by FisherKingKQJ

You're gorgeous, you're clever, you're full of spunk,
But you're not distinguished from other girls
And if you hitch up with a rake or a punk,
Well, I tick fin de siecle flings and whirls.
I love the way your shy, bowlike lip curls,
Your flick of bangs away from your eyebrows,
Your primp round ear as a tress unfurls,
Your sweep of lock on lock near overflows.
You're educated, but to custom you're not close,
You're cultured without irony or nuance,
You're mutely rude and cheerfully morose
In vulgar values of what's in your pants.
You're not so young but only for a while,
I'll follow circumstance with custom wile.

{3D interactive chorus:}

You're not so young but only for a while.
You're not so young but only for a moment.
You're not so young but only for a spell.

a study toward sonnet #207 by FisherKingKQJ

As autumn strikes a tremor in my heart
I sashay past the lush, deadly nighshade-
An ancient artefact of cosmetic art,
It's dainty white flowers inviting spade.
To you, a sidewinder, my thoughts are swayed
And myself, natural, a rattlesnake,
The spat of serum has left me waylaid,
It's queasy cure for my gout and tooth ache.
Your eyeliner is vegan nightshade fake,
No lab hare is sacrificed on your byre,
Your friends are tarts for purely tarts' sake-
You're a green potato whom I acquire.
I speak before I think, whereas you frame
Your bile in cool, eloquent liquid flame.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I speak before I think, whereas you frame.
I speak before I think, whereas you border.
I speak before I think, whereas you outline.

a study toward sonnet #207 by FisherKingKQJ

As autumn strikes a tremor in my heart
I sashay past the lush, deadly nighshade-
An ancient artefact of cosmetic art,
It's dainty white flowers inviting spade.
To you, a sidewinder, my thoughts are swayed
And myself, natural, a rattlesnake,
The spat of serum has left me waylaid,
It's queasy cure for my gout and tooth ache.
Your eyeliner is vegan nightshade fake,
No lab hare is sacrificed on your byre,
Your friends are tarts for purely tarts' sake-
You're a green potato whom I acquire.
I speak before I think, whereas you frame
Your bile in cool, eloquent liquid flame.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I speak before I think, whereas you frame.
I speak before I think, whereas you border.
I speak before I think, whereas you outline.

At some point I'll be adding songs for a satirical musical. Fifteen soliloquys with fifteen talk-sing dramatic interludes. I'll be continuing with unrhymed, blank sonnets
for talk-sing; half-rhymed sonnets for soliloquy.

Half-rhyme:

goggle
gaggle

or:

gurgle
gaggle

a study toward sonnet #206 by FisherKingKQJ

The Gods cannibalise their own dead
Regurgitated for Romans from the Greek-
A crazy Caesar salad tainted with lead
In scullery leach, by bath house pipe leak.
The Fisherking, he salts the infirm and weak
So learn to treasure, pick, unlock your scabs,
By a fever your immortality you seek
In his salt marsh castle of vaccine jabs.
He'll salve your wounds of dirt and rusty stabs,
For mouldy water you'll work up a salty thirst,
Afore your eyes will pass milestones and tabs,
A templar knight by crowding you'll be cursed.
And cities are built on cities, my love,
Atop Jerusalem so push dusts shove.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Atop Jerusalem so push dusts shove.
Atop Jerusalem so push dusts barge.
Atop Jerusalem so push dusts ram.



Your salt and bitter tears stifle
Love's healing which is no trifle.

a study toward sonnet #205 by FisherKingKQJ

I've ignored your whiney, frivolous taunt
Out of character, more glitch than fault-
I'd pick of all quantum ghosts which haunt
Us now Lot's wife's salving pillar of salt.
Antiseptic salary lines your vault,
Your sauce and season blot a gourmet meal,
And my roaming eye is ready to bolt
To sweet bonbons beneath hermetic seal.
It's elements and spices finesse real-
When twelve friends talk about a table
Absent thirteenth rounds off their commonweal,
Who's halo'd as coin of realm and fable.
Your promiscuous past, either node or trough
My heart accepts with effort - think it through.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Your promiscuous past, either node or trough.
Your promiscuous past, either node or ditch.
Your promiscuous past, either node or gap.

a study toward sonnet #204 by FisherKingKQJ


Affirming by low laughs he aptly rolled
On me, his weight displaced to his elbows,
His pelvis humping dry my pelvis bold,
And teasing, his lips lightly gauging my nose.
At such times my eyes automatic close,
And open, his rapid, wild breath I track
Always ineptly fondling, and time slows
In ethereal scents and smells out of whack.
My love is certain in his wildcat knack
Of fascinating me, would not dismiss
My personal tragedies, there's no flak
Against my booboos, nor does he diss.
I lie with him on the ryegrass stop bank-
My flesh is delirious, my mind is blank.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I lie with him on the ryegrass stop bank.
I lie with him on the ryegrass stop ridge.
I lie with him on the ryegrass stop wall.

a study toward sonnet #203 by FisherKingKQJ

He pulled me close to him, and hips on hips
I reciprocated a ginger touch;
His tonguetip and lips assuaged my own lips,
I was in love in so far as, in as much.
So cherished, as myself, more than a crutch,
I leant back from my lower spine to appraise,
To flick some hair back, to savour his clutch
Accepting a fad or eternal craze.
He loved my selfless, samaritan ways,
My quickness to forgive all kinds of tripe
And further more it didn't fail to amaze-
At his loony mum I forwent a swipe.
He cupped the lacey outline of my breast
In trembling hand and warm it felt the best.

{3D interactive chorus:}

He cupped the lacey outline of my breast.
He cupped the lacey outline of my jug.
He cupped the lacey outline of my tit.

a study toward sonnet #202 by FisherKingKQJ

His hazel, glazed, contemplative eyes flicked
Up and into the thin laserlike beam
Of my own eyes; this moment he picked
With concern, his sorry self to redeem.
He needed a woman to bolster his esteem
In the world, there was a catch in his voice,
The tears which welled might as well teem,
I thought - I would be no one's second choice.
If he avoided girls, I'd eschew boys,
He would never look at an ash blonde,
Nor the other alchemical alloys,
A honey blonde or a platinum blonde.
His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde hair-
With a kiss I hear what I want to hear.

{3D interactive chorus:}

His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde hair.
His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde locks.
His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde tresses.

a study toward sonnet #201 by FisherKingKQJ

He insisted I give up the pretence,
But what he meant, actually, was my slant,
And he would pass or suspend sentence
On my apparent simple minded cant.
I bit my lower lip hard to stop a rant-
The salty, wet taste might've been blood salt,
I felt my lungs adopt a spasmodic pant
As he my motives continued to fault.
All my big dreams had been given a jolt-
All my massive plans of flying on cruise-
Destroyed by his hot, dismissive revolt-
That all women easily, often, bruise.
He couldn't stomach historic fellow
When our own history was splendid mellow.

{3D interactive chorus:}

He couldn't stomach historic fellow. SPADES
He couldn't stomach historic guy. CLUBS
He couldn't stomach historic man. DIAMONDS

a study toward sonnet #200 by FisherKingKQJ
HEARTS SPADES CLUBS DIAMONDS

The circumstance of prison is bizarre-
I wasn't a flight risk, my case would rest,
The nephew of Sheikh Bargin Bin Bazaar
Got me to sit his gyrocopter test.
My fake ID lead to his near arrest,
At Whenuapai I was handcuffed for fraud,
Aladdin's written English I addressed,
His prior swots at a licence were flawed.
By jumbo jets, belly dancers I'm awed...
His uncle's a brent crude oil billionaire
On the long-list for the cushion of Saud-
I'd co-pilot his automatic heir.
A good Samaritan I rot in gaol,
For belly dancers I landed in jail.

{3D interactive chorus:}

A good Samaritan I rot in gaol. SPADES
A good Samaritan I rot in detention. CLUBS
A good Sanaritan I rot in prison. DIAMONDS

a study toward sonnet #199 by FisherKingKQJ

I could feel his brutal and drunken gaze
In the battleground of frosted lights,
And washers and dimmers - it did not faze,
I did not fear his postures and sleights.
I'd become fed up with singleton nights,
Girlfriends had suggested a one night stand-
At a night club I got him in my sights,
He shouted bloody marys on command.
I took the pins and comb out slow and grand,
And sexily shook my chestnut hair loose,
He took off his cravat and signet band,
He gave my cellulite free cheeks a goose.
I heard myself anxiously baby cough,
My shimmering, bent leg was off the cuff.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My shimmering, bent leg was off-the-cuff.
My shimmering, bent leg was ad hoc.
My shimmering, bent leg was improvised.


[Editor's note: tramps, drag queens and limousine drivers, such as you and me, throw themselves at the glamour girl's feet.]

a study toward sonnet #198 by FisherKingKQJ

It seemed like a numbing movie or dream,
He forward bent and swiftly placed an arm
In the backs of my knees in the hem and seam,
He remarked my clear skin and inner calm.
Through the bra I felt his thumb and palm
Somewhat clumsily mould a turgid breast-
My loss of weight was no cause for alarm
Like a fasting labrat longevity I'd wrest.
Escape to our private beach and love nest!
My skirt puffed up round me in the eddy
As if a yellow parachute distressed-
He gripped my ribcage so calm and steady.
He carried me up the steps one by one-
Long before the GulfStream jet I'd been won.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Long before the Gulf Stream jet I'd been won.
Long before the Gulf Stream jet I'd been seized.
Long before the Gulf Stream jet I'd been trophied.

There's still a lot of mileage left in this form of the sonnet. I think I could do another 30 before switching to an easier variant.

a study toward sonnet #197 by FisherKingKQJ

Here's me in the mouldy corner bedroom
Of Clarence Lodge picking me crusty snot,
Mr Maddox' grey satellite mushroom
That's bolted to weather boards of dry rot.
Me mercury fillings've turned me clot
For wild animals, league, gallop and pace-
Mr Maddox' avatar I've found the plot,
Since at the docks I was laid off in a brace.
Jesus too loves bureaucrats on my case,
I enjoy me enforced life of loafer ease,
I like me flagon and to get off me face,
Life is as sweet as this Herne Bay breeze.
Me self-penned greatest hits I love to busk-
Jesus and I heal the kind and the brusque.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Jesus and I heal the kind and the brusque.
Jesus and I heal the kind and the gruff.
Jesus and I heal the kind and the offhand.

a study toward sonnet #196 by FisherKingKQJ

It obviously grated on him somewhat,
And his head moved into and then out
Of my personal space, he was on the spot-
He wished to kiss my arid, twitchy pout.
I rode the metaphysical drought
For a quick about turn watershed
Of our relationship - but how much clout
Did I have just as we were to be wed?
So with my taut, up tilted chin I lead-
Would he be faithful - only to me true?
At his touch I burst into flames instead,
Once frigid my passion for him burned blue.
I would wait on love's aromatic gas,
And his love in gestures upheld my guess.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I would wait on love's aromatic gas.
I would wait on love's aromatic spirit.
I would wait on love's aromatic vapour.

The interactive song is only sung once through by the solo. It is repeated three times word for word by hybrid human voice/wind instruments. The chorus is opened by poker dice and the lucky star, a member of the Punters' Union, sings a line. An electronic paycheque is issued to the lucky star's prepaid mobile. The phone numbers themselves are "disposable" readings of poker dice ie phone number: KQJ JJQ QJK.
There is a disposable wind instrument not unlike a kazoo.

A study toward sonnet #195 by FisherKingKQJ

Would he my love for him always requite?
If I couldn't satisfy him in bed,
If infertility became my blight,
If my habits adjudged millstone or lead?
My feeling of selfloathing had now bred
A second self, and my fists in my lap
So as to contain anxiety,or dilute spread,
I slowly wrung: I was weak, in a flap.
And obviously needy, void, a sensual gap,
I felt my mouth twitch; but in a blink
He missed my narcisstic handicap:
Of perfect bulimia what would he think?
All the room might hear my racing pulse,
I drew a steady breath not to repulse.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I drew a steady breath not to repulse.
I drew a steady breath not to appal.
I drew a steady breath not to disgust.

a study toward sonnet #194 by FisherKingKQJ

Her legs crossed, she gazed out the window pane
Of the carriage, her hem so slowly rode
Up her shapely thigh; she was absent again,
Such tedium her carnality always forbode.
My gaze her gaze attempted to decode,
The trunks which whizzed by, stands of trees
Which rolled by, the steady cumulus lode,
Her inner life wouldn't yield, wouldn't cease.
I could stand up and straighten a trouser crease,
I could walk off at sixty miles per hour,
I could do a u turn, drop to my knees,
I could not keep score of her every lour.
When she's garrulous our lives we fete,
And when she's philosopher all is freight.

{3D interactive chorus:}

And when she's philosopher all is freight.
And when she's philosopher all is cartage.
And when she's philosopher all is tare.

a study toward sonnet #193 by FisherKingKQJ

A denial wouldn't inspire largesse
Nor reasoning inspire a happy house
They would only lead to more charges
Of infidelity and burst in rows.
We were terrible: I was such a louse
So unworthy, and he, an obtuse joke,
In company of my diaphonous blouse.
A man, he mind read that other bloke,
If I socially mixed with womenfolk
It would only be as level and aloof
If I gave my girlfirend a kindly stroke
I would be suspected a closet poof.
A white lie I was quite prepared to foist,
So that of life we both could make a fist.

{3D interactive chorus:}

A white lie I was quite prepared to foist.
A white lie I was quite prepared to attach.
A white lie I was quite prepared to invoke.

a study toward sonnet #192 by FisherKingKQJ

I'm wasted this summer on Herne Bay beach
On a tarred boatshed ramp I like to sleep
In me white undies out of high tide reach
My duffel bag my pillow large and deep.
Come autumn I'll hitchhike the civvy leap
To Christchurch from Paremoremo
A Pavlovs dog I've sown what I reap
So said a parole board screwed up memo.
I'll give me excercise yard walkman gizmo
To me babe who never calls me a midget
I'm Captain Blackbeard or Captain Nemo
She's a lapdancer with a tattoo'd widget
I love me freckled, hot bleachblonde babe-
I drool by rote to lick pinkbutton boob.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I love my freckled, bottleblonde babe.
I love my freckled, bottleblonde doll.
I love my freckled, bottleblonde squeeze.

a study toward sonnet #191 by FisherKingKQJ

To look at this girl was absolute bliss,
She didn't look twenty three, more a teen;
Her homely looks called for no artifice,
Her hair was braided as before, as clean.
This favoured hairstyle trapped her between
Woman and child in a tug'o'war zone-
Unconsciously, she'd primp and preen,
As if I'd never left this sleepy town.
But I managed to pull her on her own,
And she recognised me with a like dread,
The years had whizzed by, they'd flown,
So first I kissed her on the forehead.
Her voice was young, and devoid of garnish,
Her retro raw silk dress slightly garish.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Her voice was young, and devoid of garnish.
Her voice was young and devoid of affectation.
Her voice was young and devoid of manner.