A Kissing Convention

The Kissing Convention

Padua-Italy: A kissing convention,

Speaking in tongues, ever seeking attention,

And there in the corner, clad under robe,

Judas Iscariot pleated his thobe.


In old leather thongs, he cut through the throng,

As troubadours lauded in spirited song,

Discerning another’s familiar face,

Judas fronted the woman and stated his case.


“Pardon me, Madam,” he said to the shrew,

As she eyed him with malice and spitefulness, too,

While dogding her venom and obvious hate,

Judas offered a hand and said, “You must be Kate’,


She slapped him aside in ignorant bliss,

Returning her thoughts to those she might kiss,

And as if by some magical twisting of fate,

Judas leant and he whispered, “Come, kiss me Kate.”


He whispered it softly, with honest intention,

What else was to do at a kissing convention?

Ignoring his plea while keeping her cool,

Kate turned to acknowledge a transient fool.


Renowned for her talented torturous tongue,

She lashed at the fool as the troubadours sung,

And though it appeared quite bitter and cruel,

Helpless, she begged, “Kiss me you fool.”


The fool felt a dupe but with standing ovation,

Kate stole the show with her fine osculation,

Failing to tame her outlandish display,

Judas retreated and scuttled away.


He left her to service the lips of a fool,

A talent she’d learned in the yard, after school,

Alarmed and abraded, her target withdrawn,

She banished the fool with her womanly scorn.


As Romeo passed, providing distraction,

Kate noticed Juliet missing in action,

“Juliet fine? How is she…do tell?”

“She has glandular fever. She hasn’t been well,”

“The kissing disease? How tragically sad,”

“She’ll be fine in a while…she’s not got it bad,”


And lurking behind, resisting temptation,

Judas discovered a long lost relation,

A kissable cousin, delivered by fate

saw Judas forgetting all about Kate.


Now standing alone at the kissing convention,

Kate spied Iscariot’s wandering intention,

In front of her there,in the arms of another,

Judas betrayed her, kissing the other.


Scorning, contemptuous, pitiful, too,

No one came close to taming this shrew,

And filled with despair and deep – seated contention,

Kate pulled the plug on the kissing convention.

© 2009 -Lynn Priestley


6 thoughts on “A Kissing Convention

  1. Thanks for stopping by AOMF. This is a repost from an old website that I wanted to categorise under poetry on the new site. Glad it made you laugh. It made me laugh writing it.

  2. Lynn, these are wonderful! This one and the last – both glorious in their own way. I just can’t keep up with you! If you have any poems aimed an young-uns, make sure you send them to the School Mag.

    Your poems have that much desired quality of reading effortlessly (which means they were anything but to write – I can’t imagine how long they must have taken you!)

  3. Thanks Kath,

    I will have to take a closer look at the poetry that turns up in SM. I would love to get some published and to get back into writing poetry on a regular basis. I actually find poetry easier than prose writing sometimes – although unlike writing, I find it hard to push myself into the groove with poetry. I have to be in the mood. With writing, I can bash my way through the long grass with a couple of exercises and before I know it, I’ve found the path again.

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