Thursday, 10 October 2019

MR. HANDSOME...

                                             

                                                I am the handsomest of men,
                                                the ladies look, then look again;
                                                I'm toned and fit, and tall and dark,
                                                in my blue eyes resides a spark
                                                which makes them tremble deep within
                                                and lets me turn their hearts to 'sin'.
                                                If truth be told, I'm quite a tease,
                                                but women's eagerness to please -
                                                to play the game of 'birds and bees'
                                                and do their utmost to appease
                                                my appetite for pleasures rare -
                                                lets me perform with style to spare.

                                                I am Adonis come to life,
                                                all women wish to be my wife.
                                                I conquer hearts with languid ease
                                                and watch them buckle at the knees.
                                                I laugh as their chins hit the floor
                                                whenever I pass through a door.
                                                E'en Sapphic slaves can't help but 'turn'
                                                so filled with lust for me they burn,
                                                their 'lady love' they all do spurn
                                                and nevermore will they return
                                                to their past wicked wanton ways,
                                                such is the power of my gaze.

                                                My skin is firm and tanned and smooth,
                                                my honeyed words do serve to soothe
                                                the fever in their lustful hearts,
                                                pierced by cherubic Cupid's darts.
                                                I cannot fail, I am God's gift
                                                to women who require a 'lift'
                                                to make them feel desired and young
                                                by one so manly and well-hung,
                                                who charms them with a silver tongue,
                                                whose name and fame are so far-flung -
                                                for me they'd all lay down and die...
                                                and do so with a grateful sigh.

                                                Who am I?  Why...

                                                I'm Mr. Handsome.

8 comments:

Terranova47 said...

ALFRED E. NEUMAN a man for all occasions.

Kid said...

If only I had half his good looks, T47. He's a lucky man.

Anonymous said...

Is it just me or does Alfred E. Neuman look a bit like George W. Bush?

Kid said...

So are you saying George W. Bush is that handsome, CJ?

Gene Phillips said...

I remember Catwoman had a foe named Mister Handsome in an Alan Grant story.

I tried googling the first line of the poem and didn't find it. Is it a poem Alan Grant might've known?

Kid said...

That's interesting, GP, I didn't know that. I doubt that Grant would know the poem unless his character appeared in Catwoman in the last couple of years, but I think it was quite a while ago he wrote for DC.

Gene Phillips said...

Hah, I checked my own review of the story in question--

http://arche-arc.blogspot.com/2018/11/mythcomics-catwoman-defiant-1992.html

--and though it was many years ago, in 1992, Peter Milligan, not Grant, was the writer.

Kid said...

Then he definitely wasn't inspired by the poem - because it hadn't been written yet, GP. I'm off over to your link to give it a read.

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