Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
David Nelson Nov 2013
"Master Of The House"

My band of soaks, my den of dissolute's
My ***** jokes, my always ****** as newts
My sons of ****** spend their lives in my inn,
Homing pigeons homing in
They fly through my doors,
And they crawl out on all fours

Welcome, Monsieur, sit yourself down
And meet the best innkeeper in town
As for the rest, all of 'em crooks:
Rooking their guests and crooking the books
Seldom do you see
Honest men like me
A gent of good intent
Who's content to be

Master of the house, doling out the charm
Ready with a handshake and an open palm
Tells a saucy tale, makes a little stir
Customers appreciate a bon-viveur
Glad to do a friend a favor
Doesn't cost me to be nice
But nothing gets you nothing
Everything has got a little price!

Master of the house, keeper of the zoo
Ready to relieve 'em of a sou or two
Watering the wine, making up the weight
Pickin' up their knick-knacks when they can't see straight
Everybody loves a landlord
Everybody's ***** friend
I do whatever pleases
Jesus! Won't I bleed 'em in the end!

Master of the house, quick to catch yer eye
Never wants a passerby to pass him by
Servant to the poor, butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate!
Everybody's boon companion
Everybody's chaperone
But lock up your valises
Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone!

Food beyond compare. Food beyond belief
Mix it in a mincer and pretend it's beef
Kidney of a horse, liver of a cat
Filling up the sausages with this and that
Residents are more than welcome
Bridal suite is occupied
Reasonable charges
Plus some little extras on the side!
(Oh Santa!)

Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice
Two percent for looking in the mirror twice
Here a little slice, there a little cut
Three percent for sleeping with the window shut
When it comes to fixing prices
There are a lot of tricks I knows
How it all increases, all them bits and pieces
Jesus! It's amazing how it grows!

(Oh, sorry love
Let's get something done about that)
I used to dream that I would meet a prince
But God Almighty, have you seen what's happened since?

Master of the house? Isn't worth my spit!
Comforter, philosopher' and lifelong ****!
Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire
Thinks he's quite a lover but there's not much there
What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a louse
God knows how I've lasted living with this ******* in the house!

Master of the house!
Master and a half!
Comforter, philosopher
Don't make me laugh!
Servant to the poor, butler to the great
Hypocrite and toady and inebriate!

Everybody bless the landlord!
Everybody bless his spouse!

Everybody raise a glass
Raise it up the master's ****
Everybody raise a glass to the Master of the House!


Writer(s): Jean Marc Natel, Herbert Kretzmer, Claude Michel Schonberg, Alain Albert Boublil
Copyright: Productions Bagad, Alain Boublil Music Ltd., Boublil Alain Editions



Gomer LePoet ....
I had  the wonderful experience of seeing Les Miserables performed by the local community playhouse actors this past weekend. what a performance :)
Static crackling ecstatically; manic pop
Transistor hissing and spitting; sideboard atop
                                      First when there’s nothing…
                                      But a slow glowing dream…

Pirouette such as whirling dervish makes
Adolescent prancer twirls; leg warmer fakes
                                      All alone I have cried…
                                      Silent tears full of pride…

Breathless incantation; future forged in dance
Performance fascination; leap upon the chance
                                      What a feeling...
                                      Bein’s believing…

Neon flashes bedeck wrists and bonce
Peers laughter flash like fire; a ponce
                                      Take your passion…
                                      And make it happen…

The music shields, deflects. Antacid; taunts abate
Rhyhmic dreamer energized; blind to all the hate
                                      Pictures come alive…
                                      You can dance right through your life…



As Bergen-Belsen ghost yet still aware
Lost dreamer segues silently on fetid air
                                       Bruised and battered, I couldn’t tell what I felt…
                                       I am unrecognizable to myself…

Shuffling as garish Geisha; white but not with paint
Breathless as fifties bombshell; heaving sick and feint
                                      At night I could hear the blood in my veins…
                                      It was black and whispering as the rain…

With steel partner; straight firm and slim of hip
Rigid in rigor’d waltz; moving labouredly with drip
                                      I walked the avenue, ‘til my legs felt like stone…
                                      I heard the voices of friends, vanished and gone…

Faithless rusting engine combusts toxic blood
Failing sack of sinew lies where dancer stood
                                      Night has fallen, I’m lyin’ awake…
                                      I can feel myself fading away…

Monotone white noise; assuring beep
Dancer dreams in endless sleep
                                     There was a time when men were kind…
                                     There was a time when love was blind…

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness – 2018 – All rights reserved)

Acknowledgements:

1. Flashdance… what a Feeling (1983 – Giorgio Moroder, Keith Forsey & Irene Cara)
2. The Streets of Philadelphia (1993 – Bruce Springsteen)
3. I Dreamed a Dream (Les Miserables – Claude Michel Schonberg, Herbert Kretzmer & Alain Boubil)
The difference 40 years can make in a gay dancers life....from dream to nightmare in the ***/AIDS crisis, inspired by the music and news of the 80's and 90's

— The End —