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“How Bruce Lee Changed the World” Contest Entries Part Deux

It’s day three of our “How Bruce Lee Changed the World”  contest, and the submissions are flowing like it’s a Dustin Hazelett fight. As mentioned before, the History Channel was nice enough to send us two copies of their Bruce Lee DVD, and all you have to do to win one is write some EROTIC MMA POETRY.

You have until Friday evening to submit your poem and we announce the winners Friday night – one DVD goes to the BEST poem and the other goes to the FUNNIEST. Just stick dem poems in the comments section of this post or email me to enter. Here’s a few of the great entries from yesterday (you can see all the forum entries here and here).

By Kwagnuth:

they stood and banged but it was all slippidy slidey
they took it to the ground his guard spread widely
down on the mat they grinded their hips
pressed upon his chest with vaseline on his lips
he had the position the move was sunk in
any moment now he thought he could win
on this night he owned him he waited for the tap
he knew once it came he would go home with the strap
even better he had made him quit
to his superior manhood he had to submit
after it as all over BJ whined like a little bitch
I guess ol George didn’t satisfy that itch

By Omomatta:

His gloves are all red,
But Big Timmy’s blue,
If only he was champ
There’d be more than sloppy seconds to screw.

By Frikshun:

Our eyes met from across the cage
My muscles tensed from your piercing gaze
Our fifteen start when I pull back my hood
I’ll take my time like a real man should
I’ll do things to you that I’ve only dreamed before
We’ll do it on the fence, and then on the floor
Like the kamasutra, we’ll explore all positions
Working so hard to finish, our bodies both glisten
You were all I thought of, going three months strong
To quote the late Marvin Gaye…..Let’s Get It On!

From six30two:

Haikus are awesome,
But sometimes they don’t make sense.
Keith Hackney Joe Son

Now if you don’t think the above one is erotic, you haven’t seen the ” target=”_blank”>Keith Hackney / Joe Son fight. A few of the longer ones, including an excellent snarky ode to Dana White, after the jump.

By Reverend Clint:

There once was a man named Brock
Who loved to suck the cock
And he said with a grin
As he wiped off his chin,
“BJJ is gayer than Wrestling”

By Fish Tacos:

Ache to Hurt
an erotic MMA-related poem by fish tacos

Shameless and bare
man circles man
soft leather kiss
swells the eye red
surprising bruise
rocked at the shock

Forked muscular
legs lock, cross, clench
hug the man tight
bulge touching bulge
hugged and snuggled

Transparent goo,
applied between
rounds, slides the man
into full mount
Must submit it
is all over

From Mr Unbelievable Pants:

Ode to Dana

Dana, Dana, Dana, Dana.
Oh Dana.
Your head is so shiny
Your penis so tiny.
Dana, your voice can be whiny.

In bed with those crooks,
reading management books.
Explaining to fighters,
“The chequebook gets tighter.

Sorry guys, its a credit crunch.
I’d love to give you all
more buck for your punch,
I’d love to talk, but I’m late for lunch.

Have your people call mine,
if you can find them in time,
meawhile I’ll video blog.

I’ll talk about gays and fucking shit gays,
maybe you can film me
laying a log.

You’ll see me at ringside,
watching the fights.
I’ll wince at the punches
and gasp at the kicks
and fondle various
important men’s dicks.”

Dana, Dana, your plan is clear.
World dominations is creeping near!
But bad luck for you,
and the Brothers Fertitta,
rubbing your hands and eating fajitas.

Why? You ask, swallowing hard.

By Carcass:

Calmly and slowly, they probe
Circling the ring
As they seek out the weak point.
Attacks flicker over muscle
spreading upon the face
of the opponent.
A little pleasure
a lot of pain,
they assert their dominance
A battle for the imposition
of will.

delicately spread, tracking down
rippling shoulders but lo!
They fly into faces, into mouths
and eyes.
Now the sweet calm, the eye of the storm,
Vermillion eye meets silken cold steel
Erythema flushed with shuddering ice.

Erect once more, they circle,
Deep penetration into the pocket
Was stuffed into a tight clinch.
A slithering slip and danger!
Back take, rear mount.
As throbbing muscle slides inside
The terror is over and he accedes
To the inevitability of the rush.

By Colin:

He yearned to be there
With his love beneath hot lights
Octagon dreams lost