A Pretty Woman
That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
To think men cannot take you, Sweet,
We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin.
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don't hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.
We believe in sex before during
and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
Crush The Rebellion
I am determined to crush the rebellion,
Send them packing and back into pavilion,
I bring them to sense with high handedness,
If need be hang them in public to show hardness,
These were the methods practiced by rulers,
Single word to be upheld as doctrine or pillars,
No one to violate and nothing to question,
All in good faith so no question of rejection,
On The Rails
Phew! This department if so unbearably stifling,
The whole populace is frantically rifling,
Through loads of clothes, hanging up for inspection,
Either for your acceptance, or for your rejection,
On the rails,
At the Sales!
The available sizes left, are eight's and eighteen's,
In shirts, blouses, jumpers and denim blue jeans,
Bra cups in E's and F's and G's.
(001) Thank God I'M An Atheist!
One fine night, in the middle of the day,
two atheists knelt down to pray.
Hymn books opened upside-down,
in Top Hat n Tails, and their dressing gown.
The in-verse lyrics from the page,
sung happily with joyous rage.
Two old friends, first meeting each other,
(both my Grandad’s grandson’s sister’s brother.)
With sufficient humility, to make them proud,
A Friend Forever, Jesus Christ
Though I am down and bear a frown
Because words of sword are always painful
And rejection is always sorrowful.
My human friends called me names.
Words of rejection I earned from them.
But thank God, still I stand...
Jesus came and saved the day.
He removed my sorrows
The Rejection Slip
all would-be poets, take note!
proofread that so-called poem you just wrote!
those who aspire for more Famous Days
please steer clear of these clichés:
so what if your heart
What is happening all around?
Nothing seems well and sound,
Anarchy, fraud witness and found,
All taking we to down ward bound,
Health hazard and playing with food,
Toxic mixed with milk and served as good,
Trees treated with chemicals at root,
Yield is more but day time loot,
~ G-Sharp Soprano ~
~ G-SHARP SOPRANO ~
18 February 2010
Two World Wars
Third Reich’s gas chamber
Little Boy Fat Man
A Little Girl Lost
Abandoned to sadistic streets,
A school room of sullen tears,
A little girl lost beneath
A blanket of rejection and fears
Moves slowly through
The lonely night;
The effects of drugs
Are wearing off…
And dawn has no promise
I met him on a summer's day,
Lights sparkled in his eyes,
I felt that love had come my way,
I never once thought that he'd betray
My love, I had no thought of 'goodbyes'.
He turned my world so upside down,
He mesmerised me then,
He praised me on my choice of gown,
I felt as if he wore a crown,
Well there she was, the girl I loved,
With no one at her side.
She smiled and waived as I approached,
In shock, I then replied.
She said, 'I'm waiting here for you;
This is to be your day. '
I said, 'what has become of us
For us to meet this way? '
Don't be afraid to turn me down.
It never has been free.
And I'm prepared to pay the price,
The cost of loving thee.
Rejections are the common dues,
The fees for what I do.
Finding souls who I can love,
And losing ones like you.
' Few Two Liners '
I’ve known reception
I’ve seen rejection
I’ve known how life gets reduced to a memory
I’ve seen how memory fades
I’ve seen how life takes off
I’ve known how life slumps
I’ve seen how one clings to life
YOUR eyen two wol slee me sodenly,
I may the beaute of hem not sustene,
So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.
And but your word wol helen hastily
My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene,
Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly,
I may the beaute of hem not sustene.
My poetry is a mystery to me also
I don't know how I write
I feel it isn't any good
That I could make a living
When it gets published, I can shout
On atop of a mountain
And I feel confident and full of joy
But with one rejection that comes
I am falling from that mountain
Sometimes, I think I should give up
In The Hands Of The Pitiless
(For unborn brothers and sisters)
And, the wind has brought
Yet another grievous thought,
Thinking of the tiny babe
With no proper burial place...
Tortured and betrayed...
Instead of being a cherished fruit
The helpless babe
Rejection is pain
pure and simple
impure and complicated
rejection is pain
and nobody on earth is exempt from it
and I doubt there is any relief from the hurt
except the passage of time and the pen in a poet's hand.
The first time I drank gin
I thought it must be hair tonic.
My brother swiped the bottle
from a guy whose father owned
a drug store that sold booze
in those ancient, honorable days
when we acknowledged the stuff
was a drug. Three of us passed
the bottle around, each tasting
with disbelief. People paid
Denial of You...
Can be as subtle as a gentle breeze
Covering pile of ungoverned cravings
Settling mind restless at bogus ease...
Rejection of You...
So far-reaching, fiercely creeping
Infuriated as tropical cyclone sweeping...