Poetry With A Mission

...a thought provoking poetical exercise.


Beauty Beware

There’s an enchanting flower that's dwelling in a lushish flowerbed,
One that is ringed by pearly petals, and has a burnished golden head.
And just like a diamond that's in a crown, it bedazzles passers-by,
Who commonly stop to view its beauty, and are heard to coo and sigh.

It towers over the others that adorn the same flowerbed too,
Being the best of all the flowers there, that were planted and quickly grew.
It leans towards the spellbound viewer, beckoning them to stay awhile,
Yes, it’s truly alluring, so intriguing, and so sure to beguile.

It lazes in the warming sunshine, and it’s seen jiving with the breeze,
It takes showers in the rain, and very teasingly, makes people sneeze.
Yes, it excites the observer, plays tootsie with passing buzzy bees,
And it flirts with the gardener too, who each day this real stunner sees.

It’s scrupulously tendered, and it's monitored habitually,
It’s a classic, it's a prize winner, for it's sculptured so perfectly.
It’s the pick of the bunch, it’s streets ahead  it would knock the judges dead,
Yes, it’s absolutely top-notch, it's a jewel amongst a flowerbed.

Well, I could leave it there, but I would rather not therefore, on I’ll go,
Given that all about this flower, I'm wanting everyone to know.
And should you stroll past this garden, friend, you too, will soon understand why
I am waxing so lyrical here, and suggesting that you pass by.

It’s not often that such you will see, for such beauty is very rare,
Which is why so many passers-by will take the time to stop and stare.
In fact, I’m rather surprised that this flower is still residing there,
For surely admirers are tempted — and there are those who may well dare.

Hence why the following's worth pondering on, and very thoughtfully,
And that is, that beauty has a downside, oft sparks vanity and jealousy,
And that if we're blessed with beauty, not to strut about like a peacock,
But rather, humbly mingle with others, for beauty has a time clock.

By Lance Landall

2.  You're Fine The Way You Are

So many nice women are needlessly falling victim to the plastic surgeon’s knife,
Who, whilst relieving them of thousands of dollars, assaults their body, plays with their life.
Yes, so needlessly, for the problem’s seldom with their body, but rather, in their mind,
For within its caverns, some self-esteem issue (or other), one’s most likely to find.

Thus, with the dangers of the likes of implants downplayed (given big money is at stake),
So many women whose breasts are fine but smaller, that foolish road to bigger ones take.
And as a consequence — and over time — they not only more money have to outlay,
And return visits make, but suffer from what those silicon companies do not say.

Minor and major health issues are related to such, but not always realized though,
In other words, it’s thought that they’re due to something else (which has them feeling or laid low).
Or to which the local doctor just shakes his head, and admits he really doesn’t know,
Given that connections can’t always be clearly made, unlike nasty ones that do show.

And all this due to women being made to feel that they should succumb to such surgery,
Thanks to those images and pressures that advertisers inflict on society.
Hence the rush for the artificial, the cosmetic, that unnatural air-brushed look,
That’s seen in those TV adds, on shop windows and walls, and in that magazine or book.

And adding to all this, that competitive sexy look, where breasts are bared generously,
Which has less well endowed women feeling envious, thinking in terms of surgery.
And then there are those who’ve had a mastectomy, who also upset and pressure feel,
Which advertisers, and women who succumb to their adds, joy from other women steal...

...well, effectively, and indirectly, given what they publicly flaunt and reveal.

Yes, it’s all a game, a very cruel, thoughtless, childish one, and so unnecessary,
For a woman’s a woman whether large or small — a work of art, femininity.
Yes, the opposite and compliment to masculinity, and there’s where it should lie,
Not in size, sexy clothing, or in air-brushed looks, but in the apple of a man’s eye.

At the end of the day, a woman’s for loving — she’s not a doll or a mannequin;
Her true beauty lies in her very being, for age soon attacks and disfigures one’s skin.
It’s better that they face reality, appreciate what they have, and keep healthy,
And not succumb to those seductive lines (lies) that advertisers spin repeatedly…

...nor to those artificial breasts that fatten more than just a woman’s anatomy...

...mastectomies excluded here, understandably. 

By Lance Landall

You may wish to read my article titled Breast Implants which can be seen on my page, Time To Face Things.

3.  I Wish That You'd Chosen Me

Yes, I truly would have loved you, deeply so, and would’ve treated you well, but I didn’t look the part,
So you chose another man, one whom I couldn’t compete with, but who didn’t have the same caring heart.
I'm sure that I would’ve made you very happy, despite my lack of means, but you had the right to choose,
And in my heart I wished you well, despite all those tears that soon fell — hey, I’m so sorry about that bruise,


I know I'm rather plain, just an everyday kind of guy — yes, somewhat uneducated, unskilled,
And he, streets ahead, but oh, if I had just been given the same chance, your wishes would’ve been fulfilled.
Well, in the sense of my really loving you, showering you with affection, time, care and protection,
'Cause money I don’t have — hey, I’m so sorry he roughed you up, wish that you’d headed in my direction.

I’ve known many men like him — they can play the game, have the looks, the money, even the expertise,
But when it comes to faithfulness, and what a woman truly desires, they so oft fail to please.
I’m aware of their banter, those roving eyes, how they love to spend time with the boys, and too oft their beer,
Thus I guess I saw it coming, but it was he, rather than me, whispering promises in your ear.

Yes, I truly would have loved you, very deeply so, and how I wish you'd been attracted to me,
But I wasn’t as confident, nor as experienced, and I guess you noticed my naivety.
I’ve come a long way since then, but if only I’d been given the chance — hey, so sorry about those scars,
And though it’s still unlikely you’ll come my way, I’m glad that for your sake, he’s languishing behind bars.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 23 February 2020.

4.  That Bad Boy Attraction

It’s known that certain women are attracted to renegade men, hence that proverbial question, “Why?”
Which I feel isn't all that hard to answer, and hence my attempt here, in order to such demystify.
And the reason being, that I believe there’s a broader picture which these women are simply reflecting,
And upon whom (in many tragic cases), these renegade men much misery are wrongly inflicting.

At the end of the day, humanity seems to have a fascination with anything that mystifies,
And in many cases such has become an obsession, one that this whole scene amplifies, electrifies.
'Cause such is oft played up via the likes of movies, and via copycats who the bad boy image think is cool,
Yes, that dark side, over which the immature and wayward, and those sadly deluded women seem to drool.

The truth is, that as far as these renegade men (plain bad boys) go, there’s really little to mystify,
Which their participation in a number of sessions with a psychologist would duly clarify.
'Cause they’ve either been damaged emotionally somehow (sadly so), or are just plain rebellious, lawless,
The latter just the territory of fools, who once again, only the wayward and immature impress.

There’s a dark side to us all, a certain rebelliousness, lawlessness, given we’re all prone to doing wrong,
Hence why we smile at certain behaviour, might do such ourselves, until some sad consequence comes along.
Such a state is hardly flattering, and in many cases is even aided by issues too, sadly,
And then there’s curiosity — you know,
Wet Paint, Don’t Touch, but we do — behaving like there’s some mystery,

But there’s not, the paint wet, and renegade men simply messed up or wayward, and why trouble these women get.

No, there's no mystery, but oh,
how we find it easier to do wrong rather than right, and wrong even like,
Not content to leave things alone, or aren’t content full stop, hence that oft fatal curiosity, holed dyke,
'Cause soon, some dam can burst via holes we’ve created, ones like those women create, who opt for renegade men,
Who really aren’t a mystery at all, but who often act mysterious, hence that, “Here we go again.”

And that being, another sad marriage or roughing up, and why women who seek such men are soon to trip,
'Cause bad guys don’t know how to treat a woman, and marriage wise, certainly don’t know how to steer the ship.
At the end of the day, it takes guts to do what’s better — yes, an inner strength, compass, willing mind and heart,
All of which is why mysteries oft aren’t so, and why renegade men are best left alone, just not that smart.

Yes, there're renegade women too, and given like attracts like, it’s no surprise that such men they pursue,
And then there’re women whose motherly instincts get in the way of sense, for they too, such an affair oft rue.
But hey, not just renegades have appeal, but good men, and why it's more to do with that so-called mystery,
That foolish soft spot for wrong doing within us, which can lead to our own undoing, inevitably.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 3 February 2020.

5.  Nice Girl, Bad Girl

It intrigues me how so many women want to shed the nice girl image for the bad,
Having been seduced by the decadent desires of those who want women far less clad.
Desires that strip a woman of dignity, turning her into an object of lust,
And that in time, after having just used and abused her, leaves her behind in the dust.

Yes, desires that see her less respected, a means to an end — a selfish, heartless one,
For those who benefit don’t have her best interests at heart, nor care, when all’s said and done.
Yet, seldom do such women realise this, enjoying the illusion, the con, the lie,
But such fame is hollow and fleeting, and thus with age, soon mocked, failing to satisfy.

And via such shallowness, they foolishly make their own kind the subject of derision,
Providing leering men with more derogatory behind the scenes ammunition,
For using one’s body in such a way hardly shows much intellect, nor commonsense,
Given men are simply satisfying their obsession with sex at a woman’s expense.

Though women were indeed designed to be physically appreciated by men,
They weren’t meant to be objects of lust, nor degraded via someone’s camera or pen.
But rather, valued for who they are, protected, supported, duly loved and cared for,
And hence why those men in their life who see it otherwise, should quickly be shown the door.

By Lance Landall

6.  Right Way, Wrong Way

There was a time when women knew how to wrap men 'round their little finger by using their femininity,
Yet still retain their dignity, unlike today, where they're far too quick to fall back on their sexuality.
Hence how they sell themselves short, 'cause rather than using their charm, they take the easy way out, and use their body,
Then wonder why men start expecting certain favours, view them as objects, even treat them objectionably.

To be fair here, not every woman takes the easy way out by bowing to the crassness of the day,
But instead, appeals to the higher and not lower, thus avoiding bringing the unsavoury her way.
And as well as this, sends a message that a man can respect and admire, unlike the other, which just demeans,
'Cause one appeals to his masculinity, and the other more to his loins — what’s seen in Playboy magazines.

Hence that sexy clothing, those sexy ways, that do little to raise a man’s thoughts above his crutch, own desires,
And that rather than drawing him to a woman’s natural beauty and character, ignites lustful fires.
And that also tends to tar all women with the same brush, 'cause one is oft left thinking it’s the majority,
Given even grandmas are into sexy calendar shots now, having succumbed to that sex mentality.

It seems as if the world's just discovered sex, is still in its infancy, and thus showing its immaturity,
Unable to control its new found desires, like a child in a shop full of sweets gorging itself silly,
And thereby unleashing a tsunami that’s threatening the last bastions of decency and morality,
All because many women are exchanging femininity for a cop-out sexuality.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 10 February 2020.

7.  Why Women Get Used

Dear sexually dressed woman:

With men being males (made the way they are), and with you being dressed like that, they’re being directed to your body.
“So? What if they are?” you cry, but don’t you see, they’re not being attracted to you, and there's  the problem, sadly,
'Cause you’re just creating a sexual interest, and not a personal interest, self-defeatingly,
Given that you're simply stirring
a man's self interest and lust, thus becoming an object, effectively.

And what does one do with objects? Use them. And some abuse them,
 more so where there’s no attachment emotionally,
Which in this case there oft isn't, 'cause men can separate the sexual from such, and oft do, some callously.
Such is one difference between men and women, and why men oft indifferently take what they want and leave,
And why many women who’re looking for more than a one night stand (brothel emulation), are soon seen to grieve.

A man can't truly fulfil a woman’s desires unless he loves her
and gives himself to her completely,
Not just physically but emotionally
— we're talking marriage, he committing himself permanently.
'Cause where women are concerned, the physical and emotional go together, they wanting security,
And need such, 'cause kids can be one outcome, and not just she suffer, but that unintended child, tragically.

Yes, so many women get used, which they aid via their dress, or via buying into the same male mentality,
That one that seeks pleasure physically without being attached emotionally (which leaves one  empty).
Something that’s so easy for a man, and more so one who’s less than noble and moral, and who’s attracted by
That sexy, public state of undress that oft sees women used, for such directs a man’s compartmentalised eye.

Yes, if women knew the half of it, more would hardly laugh at it.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 14 February 2020.

You may also wish to read my article "Are Women Blameless?" which is found on my page, Time To Face Things. You may also be interested in reading the following poems: "The Problem With Sexy", "That Word Sexy", "Cover Up, Please", "Triggering", "Sexual Criminality" and "Descretion Please."

8.  Can't Have It Both Ways

One night when I happened to be watching a variety show on TV, two young men appeared,
And there on the stage, removed their shirts, thus baring their chests — and oh, how the women hollered and cheered.
And I couldn’t help thinking, “Are women getting as bad as men now, fixating on the body,
And thus emulating those same leering crowds seen in strip joints where the air’s lustful, blue and bawdy?"

The truth is, that women can’t have it both ways, which, to be honest, appears to be the case to me,
They not wanting to be sought just for their body, yet making a thing of bodies themselves, strangely,
Which just fuels that body mentality that’s found in the male domain, which suggests very strongly
That these days women are happy to be seen as sex objects — well, certain women, apparently.

Just as parents should lead by example, so too women, if wanting to be taken seriously,
'Cause mixed signals ensure mixed results, and more often a total disregard, unsurprisingly.
Either a woman desires a man who's focussed on her, or one who’s focussed on her body,
And depending on what she wants, as to how she’ll act and dress, and who she’ll attract, invariably.

Sure she might be lucky in love, but better to be sure than lucky, hence her need to act prudently,
And just like parents, act in a way that brings about the best result, if she wants to be happy.
'Cause one thing’s clear: Those women who holler and cheer, appear as if making certain desires clear,
Which will worsen a certain mentality and compound  their lot, and how future hurt they will share.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 4 February 2020.

9.  Sexploitation

It’s clear there’s no shortage of women who’re prepared to bow to sexploitation, and who thus  just hurt their own,
Be it via adds, porn, dress — yes, the list goes on — and then, ironically so, over the backlash they groan.
Via such bowing, they also undermine the efforts of other women who're  trying to stop such misuse,
Misuse that sees far more women on the receiving end of lewd leers and remarks, and sexual abuse.

Yes, it’s no surprise that women are seen more and more in terms of objects — objects of lust, let’s be clear,
And this why those women who choose to bow to such sexploitation, a certain degree of the blame must share.
'Cause they don’t have to star in those movies or those adds, and nor in that soft or hardcore pornography,
Which reduces them to the state of cattle, despite denials from those who benefit financially.

If only those women could see through the eyes of males (honest males), who would be prepared to answer truthfully,
That via such, they’re hardly drawn to what places women on a pedestal and treats them respectfully.
Hence why were they able to have their way — oh, how they'd play — the sexual being the first thing on their mind,
'Cause that’s the signal that’s being sent, picked up, and why in their mind many men press replay, and then rewind.

Sexploitation comes in many forms, all of which simply degrades women, and laughs at those men who such folly view,
And who may even join the ranks of those women bowing to such, 'cause some men pursue the same folly too.
Hence why it’s time that all woke up to such sexploitation, joining in a collective shout, and quickly so,
'Cause this wrongful sexploitation of any man, woman or child should have been brought to a halt long ago.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 3 February 2020.

10.  Red Light Shame

What a tragedy, and it’s hardly to the credit of men, that many women turn to prostitution,
And some women quite happily, it seems, others pressured or forced, and others thinking it's a solution.
Yes, there’s a few reasons, desperation amongst them, given the plight that some women find themselves in, but,
What a crime that some are abducted and forced into such by greedy men who profit via lust, vice, and smut.

But referring back though, what a shame that there are these women who're prepared to degrade themselves willingly,
Allowing men to treat them like some pleasure dispensing machine, object to be used indifferently.
And as money changes hands, so does their ravaged body, and who knows what else is exchanged in the process,
Given undesirables with minds as grubby as trash cans lustfully hurry to some red light address.

Yes, what a shame that certain women sell themselves so short, their value reduced to a few dollars, sadly,
Their body just used like a work bench, some users satisfying some warped creative urge, undoubtedly.
And all the while making sure they get their money’s worth
fingering, probing, disgustingly and thoughtlessly,
Aware that others before them have also mauled and pillaged, 'cause that’s what she’s there for, they reason, callously.

Prostitution's nothing but a pit, one that’s jumped into and then crawled out of, both drenched in its stench and mire,
'Cause nothing drags one lower, one seeking what one shouldn’t acquire, another yielding to that desire.
And so often behind it all, those pimps, slave drivers, who profit from a woman’s loss and degradation,
Oft hiding behind that self-seeking, flawed and injurious pitch that such is just kindly accommodation.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 3 February 2020.

11.  Self-inflicted Injury

In regards to the lot of women, one only has to note the likes of those beauty contests we see,
Where women are inspected like cattle — and let’s be honest, accepting such more due to vanity.
Yes, loving the spotlight, their bodies clearly the focal point, regardless of what some publicly say,
And among them, those who promote such, or the women themselves, thus fooling themselves, at the end of the day.

Then there're those Playboy bunnies (as they’re called), toys in the hands of men, though one man in particular, who,
Made a fortune out of using them — yes, they too, paraded like cattle, pawns in a sexual zoo.
And once again, their bodies the focal point, over which men lustfully drool, eyes raping silently,
Minds busy fantasizing, a woman’s best far from their mind, they inflamed, fixated sexually.

Given men are made the way they are, what can women expect, or is it that they somehow just can’t see
That what they’re doing is counterproductive, 'cause such doesn’t stir mens' hearts, but rather, their loins, sadly.
And there within the confines of fired up loins, those women become objects of self-gratification,
Just a means to a selfish end, which at the end of the day, is the bedfellow of sexploitation.

And hence how women shoot themselves in the foot, 'cause many seem only too happy to disrobe and bare,
Or (in various degrees) reveal what’s picked up by a man’s sexual radar, hence his carnal stare.
All why the less a woman bares, the more mens' focus is raised, and better off she is, 'cause one thing’s clear:
If women keep on parading and baring their bodies like they do, the less about them men will care.

Yes, self-inflicted injury, I say.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 4 February 2020.

12.  Women Held Captive

We’re hearing of more women being held captive by men and treated as sex slaves,
They no doubt the tip of an ice-berg, and many of them ending up in graves,
And this after having been kidnapped and imprisoned for years, even chained too,
And kept in some basement in a common building on some common avenue.

Why? Well, it’s really quite simple…

The sexual desires of many men have become corrupt and perverted,
Their hearts now cold and callous, even depraved, good and right having deserted.
And why might this be? Enter the dreadful destructiveness of pornography,
And then there’s snuff movies, society’s obsession with the hot-cum-sexy.

And things aren’t going to change until folk once again embrace morality,
And thus that God whose coming justice is heralded by Christianity.
And the reason why is: Because man-made laws can’t change hearts, and hence why we see
Men who’ve no conscience, many having embraced Darwin’s evolution theory...

It devoid of purpose and accountability.

And feminists haven’t helped, they irritating men more, though it must be said
That had men never harmed women, those feminists would be praising men instead.
And why men have brought such on themselves, they both using and abusing females,
Encouraging the objectifying of them, which the noble soon derails.

Sure women have bought into the hot-cum-sexy, the porn, the sleazy strip joints,
But it’s lustful and profiteering men to whom the finger more rightly points,
For they should be protecting women, not putting them at risk, as what’s on show
Not only stirs lust in general, but villains women wouldn’t want to know.

Yes, feed men a constant diet of sex, and sex it will be, thank you very much,
And enter adultery, those notches on men’s belts, or that lecherous clutch.
And why even good men fall, temptation too much for their over-fed sex-drive,
But more so that of deviant men who into cesspools of filth love to dive.

Yes, women can wear what they want, walk alone in the dark, but one thing is clear:
We’re living in a much sicker world, and there are men who’ll do far more than leer.
All why it behoves women to bear such in mind, as porn’s making men hungry,
And within many men there’s damage that has a cruel streak of audacity.

And such is reality, a man’s sex-drive powerful enough without porn,
Or that hot-cum-sexy that can play on his mind, and how ill is often born.
Yes, we like to think we’re enlightened-cum-sexually advanced, but we’re not,
For we’re just repeating history, Sodom and Gomorrah amongst the lot.

Oh, how history repeats itself when folk forget the errors of the past,
And on their ship, (it leaky and rudderless), nail their foolishness to the mast.
But this time we’re looking at an apocalyptic end, Earth out of control,
It intoxicated with every kind of evil that just destroys the soul.

All why women are being held captive, many men burning with wanton desire,
Which the likes of porn and the hot-cum-sexy has fuelled, and oh, how hot the fire.
Yes, it seemingly unquenchable, and there no hoses or water in sight,
Society having largely chosen to walk in darkness rather than light.

By Lance Landall

13.  The Problem With Sexy

Women of today should rejoice in their gender, their femininity, thus dressing affirmatively,
And that meaning, in an educated way that’s as far removed as possible from masculinity.
And without resorting to the sexy, for a woman who’s truly a woman hardly needs what’s sexy,
Given that she’s comfortable with her very gender, and not the puppet of some fashion industry.

A woman who turns to such, can even convey an inadequacy that requires some prop, as it were,
Or as I said, been duped by those who exploit the female figure for whatever reason — too bad about her.
When men see the sexy, such appeals to their loins, and not their heart, and conveys that she may well be easy,
For someone prepared to flaunt so, (he muses), might also agree to an encounter with him sexually.

Well, that’s what many men assume, for in this world that we live, what’s on display is usually for sale,
And why women who’re dressed sexy will attract the attention of a window shopping, sex desiring male.
In other words, less likely a man whose intentions are honourable-cum-geared t’wards acting selflessly,
And hence why many married men commit adultery, they attracted by some woman who’s dressed sexy.

You see, sexy is all about sex, the physical, and never one’s character or personality,
And therefore draws a man’s attention to that which shouldn’t be given first place, but oft is, obviously.
And when such is given first place, it commonly dominates a male’s thinking, that sexy image replayed,
And why when it comes to a woman’s future happiness and well-being, dressing sexy hasn’t really paid.

Yes, womanly charms usually win the day, but sexy oft sees things go astray, hence those one night stands,
They quite often producing renegade fathers, which any solo mother only too well understands.
And why women should simply rejoice in their gender, their femininity, even sensuality —
Natural womanly ways — unlike that generated sexy, which knows not the soul but just the body.

And hey, men are men, far too easily drawn to a woman’s body without a woman dressing sexy,
Which has seen men viewing women more as objects these days, and why sexy simply acts detrimentally.
Thus, it’s best that a woman refrain from dressing sexy, lest her body betray her by inviting ill,
For when a woman wears clothing that conjures up an image of a bedroom, there’s every chance that it will.

And that’s the problem with sexy, for such hardly attracts commitment-cum-permanency
And oh, how a woman loves security, such best secured by her character and personality.
Hence why I’d encourage the women of today to just focus on dressing attractively, not sexy,
For sexy is hardly concerned with a woman’s welfare — it not knowing the soul but that time bound body.

By Lance Landall

14.  Are We Going Too Far?

Once, many didn't see some things like they're being seen today, but more as fun,
Or a bit naughty, but not a crime, and many now anxious over what they’ve done.
A smack on some colleague's bottom, some sexual innuendo, and so on,
And now, due to an over-the-top response, say, they're being set upon,

Or is it due to a new found morality of sorts (given much that’s gone)?

No, smacking someone’s bottom and sexual innuendos are clearly wrong,
But once kind of tolerated ’till the likes of the "Me Too" movement came along,
And greater enlightenment, one could say, and all why one shouldn’t act that way,
But the past dynamics having been somewhat different, so lets mind, I say,

Because courts could be clogged, and many changed lives shattered, given some are sorry,
And wouldn’t do such again, but oh, that blood still wanted by society.
Yes, a movement looking under every little rock, behind any door,
Some minors made majors, not that I’m condoning anything against the law.

Nor what’s morally wrong, for that matter, but how forensic do we want to go,
Or pharasaical, given that some who accuse, their own wrong doings know.
Yes, most of us having made mistakes, even acted wrongly, youth oft the cause,
And we having grown, learnt, repented, and why before pointing, all should pause.

But meantime, some changed married men now fearful of a certain knock on their door,
Some accusation that’ll impact on their wife and family come the law.
Is it worth the cost? Should one let it go, or is the urge to punish too strong?
Many who’re hardly squeaky clean themselves fixated on some years-gone-by wrong.

And let’s not forget the sixties revolution where it was all on, and hey,
That lusty revolution having continued right up ’till the present day,
Both men and women into hanky panky, one way or another, and thus
Some balance, fairness and compassion surely needed amidst all the fuss.

Sure in the sixties there were women who wouldn’t have it on, but those who would,
Many, in fact, hence why men would try to get away with something if they could.
And it's seemingly the same today, 'cause the lines still blurred by that “Yes” or “No”
(When some would argue that it should've always been a "No," and therefore, still "No"), 
Some women shrugging things off, others incensed, and why it’s kind of hard to know.

By Lance Landall

15.  Don't Toss Good Because Of Bad

If someone’s creation is a worthy thing, perhaps a set of paintings, say,
And you find that that person raped, say, why throw their beautiful paintings away?
Surely those paintings stand alone, they something good that that criminal has done,
And hey, would keeping those paintings be more likely if that rapist was your son?

A telling question, I suspect, yet worthy creations and sins worlds apart,
Each being the product of two compartments existing within the same heart.
The good compartment we accept, the bad compartment we reject, acting fair,
A great book a great book, a great song a great song, hence why sense is needed here.

But no, out goes the baby with the bathwater, feelings running high, askew,
So off the bookshelf, no more air time, and as for those paintings, they’re tossed out too.
Oh, when will we start playing grownups, bearing in mind that good folk err too,
That a rapist can turn the corner, “And as for my creation, what did you do?”

And what would you say? You having tossed what one should applaud, that excellent side,
Confusing and discouraging him, and why rather than rise, further he’ll slide.
And so, we not selling our house because the builder who built it raped someone,
But appreciating his worthy contribution, any good that he’s done.

However, too many are judged guilty before they have even been to court,
Losing their job or position, possibly because of someone’s false report.
So much for blind justice, that lady with the scales, it public opinion now,
Strong pressure coming from certain quarters to which cowardice is seen to bow.

Anger and not sense steering, others caving in, and dropping any good too,
That person penalized before a court finds the accusations false or true.
It all like going back in time — mob rule — messages going from phone to phone,
It all shameful and wrong, and seemingly the contemporary way to stone.

By Lance Landall

This poem also appears on my page Bottled By A Bottle.

16.  When Sex Is A Bad Idea

Once upon a time there was sex, a special thing between a husband and wife,
Whose relationship benefited from such; it all part of the married life.
Well, as happens, certain ones wanted it outside of marriage too, and hence how
Females got well and truly used, their foolish “Yes” like a gun that went “Pow!”

And who got shot? They did. Boys and men having their fill and moving on, cruelly,
They not having to wait until marriage, and why marry anyway, you see,
It like sex on tap, one free of any responsibilities, but oh dear,
“What’s with that bulge?” And how many want to stay? And all why they soon disappear.


You enjoying that sex because sex is great, but there’s always a risk attached,
And why, as happens, things somehow come home to roost, it a bad egg that was hatched.
And thus keeping sex for marriage not so silly after all, so mind that date,
’Cause if sex before marriage suits them, there’s a good chance you’ll wish you’d made them wait.

And not only might you be left with a kiddie that’s a handful, but oh dear,
Something else that’s rather embarrassing, painful — and surely my meaning’s clear.
Hence why multiple partners aren’t such a good idea, and nor divorce, you know,
For where’s that new spouse been too? And this why our poor choices oft act like some foe.

By Lance Landall

17.  Why Much Needs Saying About Sex

The truth is, that the wholesomeness of sex, and its appropriate place in life,
Has suffered badly, it now corrupted, less to do with a husband and wife.
It savaged and sullied by porn and lust, one night stands, obsessive exposure,
It’s true purpose and value lost on most, and why of their shame so many boast.

No, there’s no restraint, every beneficial boundary sacked, it all on,
Society now awash with debauchery; chivalry and honour gone.
Movies full of it, television fuelling it, and as for computers, well,
A click of that worrying mouse and there’s every kind of sexual ill.

Yes, it’s become the downfall of many a man, a hole some women have dug,
They staring in porn, dressing to kill, and when approached ’bout such, there’s just a shrug.
No one accepting responsibility, sex just like a lolly scramble,
Everyone at it, and why into brothels even the elite amble.

Yes, everyone has played a part, except for those who’ve tried to stem the tide,
Though mocked for their efforts; white no longer the choice of many a blushing bride.
Kids wanting to know who their father is, other kids fearing their father, who,
Enters their bedroom with lecherous intent — and under the sun, nothing new.

So when will we learn having not learnt? And if this is freedom, pity help us,
And why it’s high time we alighted from the sexual revolution bus.
It has taken us nowhere and yet everywhere, we all over the place,
And that smugness is soon to be wiped off our guilty, self-serving, carnal face;

As if we can’t see the baleful results already, the folly and disgrace.

By Lance Landall

18.  We've Either Left It Behind Or Not

Once upon a time men would try it on, and a woman would say “Yes” or “No”
(Not that I’m condoning such), and this, often midst stirred emotions on the go.
Yes, that kissing and so on, some getting the green light, some getting a firm “No”
(Even slap), but there it ended, ’cause oft to the police most chose not to go.

Why? ’Cause that’s how it was back then, the sexual revolution in full swing,
One night stands and living together common fare; and out went the wedding ring.
Well, for many, that is, and flirting and teasing common, signals clear to read,
Or confused, but there it ended (for the most part), ’cause “No” some men didn’t heed.

But generally, such the culture of the day, and thus what concerns me here,
Is, were those woman who felt that roving hand to shout foul now, one thing is clear,
And that is, that half the male population would be in trouble, kind of thing,
’Cause that was the way it was back then, women oft teasing — and here’s the thing,

Such is still going on, some saying “Yes,” some saying “No,” one halted or busy,
Some men getting collared, and some men not, which doesn’t seem right to me.
No, ’cause it can’t be both ways, or is the female kingdom a divided one,
And selective criminality going on, hollow battles being won?

By Lance Landall

Something For Women To Ponder On

Many women are dressed in a way that they may not consider as sexy, but that actually is — well, certainly to a man — hence their possible surprise. What a woman may see as relatively harmless can be very stirring to a male.
So what are we talking about here that's likely to indeed draw a man’s eyes and appeal to his loins?

Well, here’s a few things to consider:

Tops and dresses that reveal a woman’s breasts to any degree.
Tops that tightly cling to a woman’s breasts in order to emphasise every curve, and such made more inviting by the above, and including emphasised nipples.
Skirts that sit well above the knee coupled with a leggy look that’s emphasised by high heels — such skirts revealing much thigh when a woman is seated with her legs crossed.
Skirts, slacks, jeans and shorts that tightly hug both bottom and crutch.
Bare stomachs.

Am I saying that women shouldn't dress this way? What I'm saying is, that women should mind.