alotteofchar:

sadoeuphemist:

aregularabstractnoun:

jaeheonu:

writing-prompt-s:

aphcirclestealsursoulathogwarts:

kenopsitic:

countofmontepissedoff:

writing-prompt-s:

writing-prompt-s:

Fine as a lamp

Hot like a chicken

Smell like a toaster

Shine like a baby

I’m highly disappointed this doesn’t rhyme

Let’s start again, amigos:

Dirty like a napkin

Kinky like a hose

dangerous as a hatpin

My mistress’ sheen is nothing like a lamp’s, 
No stockinged stand, no shade to staunch her glare; 
If capons bronze, why then her pallor’s damp. 
For mornings’ start, a toaster’d be less rare 
To fill the kitchen with a savory scent. 
Her skin is dull next to a baby’s glow; 
A napkin’d better take the complement 
Of my lips’ stain against that patch of snow. 
I love to watch her squirm, yet, for a start, 
A hose would better twist and gush and dance; 
A hatpin’s bladed point would pierce my heart 
Far simpler than these games of mere romance. 
    And yet, by heaven, I hold her as a rose
    Compared to all these scattered bits of prose. 

That’s my favorite sonnet and I love this parody