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Bob Henry  Sep 2012
Gimp Bailey
Bob Henry Sep 2012
Your father is dead, Gimp Bailey,
We found his body all bloodied and mashed,
Wouldn't have known it was him, Gimp Bailey,
Had he not screamed your name with his dying thrash,

T'was but days ago, Gimp Bailey,
You and I walked the town in the cold
I saw the scars on your bald head turn blue,
And your leg shook right out of your hold,

The wolves hadn't touched him, Gimp Bailey,
Though we could hear their howl in the wind,
'Treated him with the respect he never showed you,
For a sinner, that *******, sure new how to sin,

When we passed the catherdral, Gimp Bailey,
You looked to the bell tower high,
And you asked me, confused, Gimp Bailey,
Why men build their towers so high,
What's so wrong with the blue of the sky?

We know it was you, Gimp Bailey,
'Cause against the blue-black of the dusk,
Saw your silhouette, Gimp Bailey,
We saw your limping husk.

You bowed your burnt head, Gimp Bailey,
As we passed by the looming bell tower,
And we both know why you did, Gimp Bailey,
For it rang out for your final hour,

His blood turned to red snow, Gimp Bailey,
Whilst our hounds were sniffing your trail,
And where did you go, Gimp Bailey?
How did you run if you are so frail?

But you weren't trying to hide, Gimp Bailey,
Because we saw that scarred blue-bald head,
From the top of the tower with the toll of the bell,
You screamed, "He is dead! He is Dead!"

Then we heard the crash, Gimp Bailey,
As the Bell fell down the stair well
Into eternity, Gimp Bailey,
It fell into the depths of hell,

And still we waited, Gimp Bailey,
With our guns, oh so ready to shoot,
We didn't know how much you hated,
That man - that beast - that brute -

And when you appeared out the doors,
We saw your hands all bloodied and bruised
From the pillars you smashed, Gimp Bailey,
From the hate of being abused,

When the roof came down, Gimp Bailey,
We didn't know what to say!
When the walls folded in, Gimp Bailey,
There was nothing to do but to pray!

I wish you had run, Gimp Bailey,
But you were a gorgoyle instead,
I called to you, Gimp Bailey,
Whilst those stones fell upon your head...

Each brick that fell, Gimp Bailey,
Was no different from your fathers back hand,
And they twisted your limbs, Gimp Bailey,
Like your leg broken by that man,

And the mortor that crashed, Gimp Bailey,
Ripped open the scars on your head,
Like the fire your father had set on your skull,
Oh Gimp Bailey, are you happy you're dead?
Samm Marie Apr 2016
Miss Bailey Lee Ann
Miss Bailey Lee Ann
What the hell
Is your issue in life?
Could **** have
Hit the fan so bad
That you chose me to
Be your friend?

Miss Bailey Lee Ann
Miss Bailey Lee Ann
I love you so much
But I am inclined to
Question your sanity

Miss Bailey Lee Ann
Miss Bailey Lee Ann
You are in such
D
E
  E
  P
****
John Thomas Aug 2010
To Bailey
What up cousin? It’s been a  while since we’ve spoken..
I’ve been tryin to keep my mind focused and stayin open..
tryin to figure out how to rebuild my heart again now that it’s broken..
hopin and prayin to some god that it’s all a dream an I’ll be awoken..

But I’m not an ignorant or irrational man, so it’s back to life as I know it..
now I sit here with pen in hand, talking to another lost loved one as a poet..
*******, every time it seems to get a little harder and harder to be stoic..
I do it for you, but my choice would have been to find a rock and hide far below it..

But I’ve held you down, an showed the world a face with a sculpted smile..
Meanwhile inside I strong armed my stomach to prevent the expulsion of bile..
mind racing, god ******!!! Just 29 years is nowhere near a long enough while!!
and to think, you barely even got to spend 3 of those with your child..

It makes me want to shout to the stars and curse our own existence..
I guess I learned I can’t box god due to something about my arms and the distance..
so I’ve given up being angry about it and stopped my resistance..
but the one thing it’s affected more than any other is my persistence..

From time to time I’m gonna ask someone “has anyone told you they loved you today?”
and if they say no, I’ll be the first person to show them a sincere display…
YOU taught me that bailey, and no matter what, I’ll never let it slip away…
I can’t thank you enough for your life, I wouldn’t even know how to repay!

It’s those small perfect lessons we can all take from your life…
I couldn’t even begin to tell them all in the course of one night…
you were an amazing person to anyone who met you, a true delight..
people called you a shiner, a catalyst, a loving father, and a white knight…

everyone had a story of how you had given them inspiration..
I can’t thank you enough on behalf of the world for your donations!
I’m glad I could finally write this letter to show my appreciation..
the words had been escaping me with some trepidation..

I love you Bailey, always have and always will!!
I can’t believe you’re gone but I carry on still…
I soldier up when I need to then settle down to chill…
I’ll see you when I see you, you know the drill…

Rest In Peace: Bailey Paul McKeon-Phillips
By John Thomas

http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
Anthony Pierre Oct 2020
This isn't news
It's Newport News
It makes you dance

Bill Bailey

And the moon walks
from sweet Virginia
never from Neverland

Bill Bailey

The first flight
In Apollo
blew up the night

Bill Bailey

Call it what you want
You can't walk on the moon
without the backslide

Bill Bailey
Bill Bailey was the inventor of the world famous Moonwalk used by Michael Jackson
judy smith Jun 2016
James Corden’s close relationship with Burberry designer Christopher Bailey was celebrated at the 2016 Tony Awards.

On Sunday night (12Jun16) the toast of Broadway were celebrated at the annual awards show. British star James was the evening’s host, winning the crowd over with his warm sense of humour and down to earth delivery.

As well as a successful acting and presenting career, James can now also add style icon to his burgeoning resume.

“We wanted to keep the wardrobe tight and focused with a definite beginning and an end,” stylist Michael Fisher told vogue.com.

“We started with Burberry for the red carpet. James and Christopher Bailey have a long-standing relationship. I wanted a strong look that complemented the roses. The deep burgundy tux had matte black micro sequins on the lapel: very sophisticated and classic, with a technical update.”

Like any good awards show host, 37-year-old James had numerous outfit changes. Two suits from Tom Ford featured; a black three-piece design which served as a tribute to Broadway and then a teal dot dinner jacket, which James chose to wear at the after party.

A show-stopping Dolce & Gabbana look also featured, with the fashion house supplying a pair of “handmade, dark green croc shoes” to complement the green velvet and crystal jacket James wore to close the show.

Another stand out moment came thanks to a red Gucci suit adorned with a bird and butterfly motif.

“The Gucci suit was my favourite,” Michael smiled. “You can’t ignore the influence (Gucci designer) Alessandro Michele has on fashion right now. It reminded me of (musical) The Boy From Oz and in that way was very appropriate for the Tonys.”Read more at: www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses
Samm Marie  Aug 2019
Bailey
Samm Marie Aug 2019
I know I must sound like a record
With a scratch in the wrong place
Sk sk ski skipping but st st sta staying
On the same line
But I miss my best friend
And I could really use a friend always
Isn't that what we all want
I had a Bailey but I was mean
And she took herself away from me
Rightfully so but that doesn't make me
Less sad
And now I'm stuck here missing
My Miss Bailey Lee Ann something awful
I must be in deep **** with her
Because I can't confidently reach,out
Without fearing rejection and blocking
But Bailey
If you read this
Please know I love you
I miss you
And I wish you
Would come back
The news came rustling through the trees
As I tethered the horse’s head,
It came with a gentle sigh on the breeze,
‘The Lady Mulcrave is dead!
She waits for you to attend her now,’
I shook in a craven fear,
‘Her arms are crossed in eternal rest
As she lies on her oak wood bier.’

I stared in horror about me then
For the voice I heard in the glade,
Though nothing moved in the gloom out there
But the shadows the fire made.
‘You lie,’ I cried, as I saddled the horse,
Buckled and fastened the bit,
Then spun around by the river’s course,
‘I’ll not hear a word of it!’

We galloped over the rickety bridge
And the hoofbeats rang in the air,
They seemed to echo the one refrain
That desperate word, ‘Despair!’
The moon hung over the distant hill
With the Motte and Bailey Hall,
Where I’d left Milady an hour before
At Sir John FitzAlan’s Ball.

She’d said, ‘Be certain to call for me
When it strikes the midnight hour,
I wouldn’t like to be left in there
Bereft, in FitzAlan’s power,
I’ve fended off the proposals that
He’s made, in the times before,
Be sure to wait at the Bailey’s gate
With my father’s coach and four.’

I’d left her there with a merry throng
In their masques and gowns and lace,
The gentlemen with their tricorn hats
And coats, cut high at the waist,
I’d ridden off to the distant wood
To sit out the time before
I’d ride alone to her father’s home
And collect the coach and four.

But now, I hurried on back in fear
That Milady was taken ill,
I prayed to God on my foam fleck’d ride
As we crested, over the hill.
The Motte and Bailey was dark outside,
Not a lantern at the door,
And not a guest to be seen out there
Where they’d thronged, an hour before.

I rode on into the courtyard where
The coaches had wedged in tight,
There wasn’t a single coach or horse
To be seen in the pale moonlight,
I called, ‘Is anyone left in there
I’ve come for Lady Mulcrave!’
There wasn’t a sound in the silence there,
A silence, deep as the grave.

I beat on the heavy oaken door
It echoed on through the hall,
I thought that I heard some breathing, breathing
Whispering through the wall,
‘Open the door and let me in,
I know you were here before,’
The hinges creaked and the door gave way,
Into an empty hall.

The air was rank and the walls were damp
And a moss grew on the floor,
There hadn’t been anyone living there
For fifty years or more,
And standing near the ancient hearth
Was a shape that brought a tear,
For stood in the gloom of that ancient room
The remains of an oak wood bier.

I sit in my cabin, deep in the woods
And avoid the world outside,
Something that happened late that night
Disturbed my time and tide,
The Lady Mulcrave died that day
In that Motte and Bailey Hall,
On the same day I was born, they say
As Sir John FitzAlan’s Ball.

David Lewis Paget
We had a very happy conversation about family matters.

Mom, Dad. I’m OK.
They’ve been really honest with me
but they’re perfectly willing to die for what they’re doing.
And I want to get out of here
but the only way I’m going to
is if we do it their way.
And I just hope that you’ll do what they say
Dad
and just do it quickly.
I really am alright.
I just hope I can get back to everybody really soon.

My little girl.

Catherine and Randy gave impeccable dinner parties.

I am an Establishment person.

I am being held as a Prisoner of War
and not as anything else.
I mean I am being treated
in accordance with
international codes of war.
I’m not left alone, and I’m not just shoved off somewhere.
I mean, I am fine.

Also, since I am an example
and it’s really important
that everybody understand that
you know,
I am an example and a warning.

And so people should stop acting like I’m dead.

Mom should get out of her black dress,
that doesn’t help at all.
and just hurry.
Bye.

Patty honey I want you to know
that your father is doing everything in his power.
Millions of people all over the world are praying for you
I know it’s been a long time sweetheart
but keep up your courage
and you keep praying
pretty soon god will touch their hearts
and they’ll send you home.


Mom, Dad.
I've been hearing reports about the food program.
So far it sounds like you and your advisors
have managed to turn it into a real disaster.
Anyway, it certainly didn't sound like the kind of food
our family is used to eating.

I called him a couple of weeks ago and said,
Hey, Randy, let's play tennis.
We haven't played tennis in months
and he said
Gosh. I just can't. I'm busy.
I know he's got a lot on his mind,
But, I think he's pretty obsessed with this.


Mom, Dad.
Tell the poor and oppressed people of this nation
what the corporate state is about to do.
Warn Black and poor people
that they are about to be murdered
down to the last man, woman and child.
Tell the people,
Dad
that the removal of expendable excess,
the removal of unneeded people
has already started.

I have chosen to stay and fight.
I have been given the name Tania
after a comrade who fought alongside Che in Bolivia.
It is in the spirit of Tania that I say,
'Patria o Muerte, Venceremos.'

She was one of the prettiest young women south of the Mason‐Dixon line.

Q. Okay. As a matter of fact, when you got to 1827 Golden Gate, or this apartment on
Golden Gate, you were not being held in that closet all the time, were you?
A. Yes, I was.
Q. You were?
A. Yes.
Q. Was there a previous closet in which you were held?
A. Yes.

DEATH TO THE FASCIST INSECT THAT PREYS UPON THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE

She is a winsome beauty and her sweetness of manner has endeared her to all who know her

Whatever happened to the real men in this world? Men like Clark Gable? No one would have carried off my daughter if there had been a real man there.

She was somewhat of a revolutionary savant.
We kidnapped a freak.
I think that she was spectacular.
At that point, it was against her will to go home.

Q. And you moved in a car, I take it?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you blindfolded?
A. Yes.
Q. And whose car was it, do you know?
A. I don’t know. I was put into a garbage can that was ******* and put in the trunk of the car.
Q. And then, was the garbage can taken into the apartment on Golden Gate when you arrived?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you in it?
A. Yes.
Q. And you were placed in a closet immediately, is that correct?
A. Yes.

I. She’s an amoral person
thought that the rules did not apply to her.
She lied to nuns at school
about her mother having cancer
in order to get out of an exam
engaged in ****** activity
at an early age
and experimented with drugs
such as LSD.

II. Velcro Theory defined the aimless, lost souls
such persons, he said, who float around
in an empty moral space
and then find stuck to them
the first random ideology they bump into.

III. She is a celebrity prisoner of war
but the other thing
is that listening to her voice
is kind of hypnotizing
and not at all unpleasant
she speaks in this whisper
the well-enunciated voice
that someone called
the rich girl’s voice
The eerie voice of an heiress
and it's hard not to admire her composure
considering the ordeal she just went through.

We didn't know whether we were looking at a live girl or a robot.

Greetings to the people.
This is Tania.
Gabi crouched low with her *** to the ground.
Perfect love and perfect hate reflected in stone cold eyes.
To shoot first and make sure the pig is dead before splitting.
I died in that fire on 54th Street,
but out of the ashes I was reborn.
I know what I have to do.

Catherine was mentally and physically exhausted after the kidnapping. No wonder she developed a drinking problem.

Q. Okay. And is it true, Miss Hearst,
that you in the presence of Thomas Mathews ejected a live round from the M-I
that you had near you
and inserted that in the clip,
and put the clip back in the weapon?
A. I don't recall, it is possible.
Q. It is possible you may have.
And did you, in fact, also at that time
load a couple of live rounds
into the chamber of a revolver, a pistol?
A. I don't recall.
Q. Did you give Bill Harris a pistol
in the presence a Tomas Mathews?
A. I don't recall.
Q. You don't recall?
A. No.

I’ll think of it all tomorrow—I can stand it then.

I think this has been extremely ******* her
She's what the kids call ‘spaced out.’
Her religion holds her together.
And when you talk to her,
you see reality escapes her.
All she can say is that people are
‘persecuting’ Patty.
That's the word she uses,
‘persecution.’
We all love Patty,
and God knows she's had a terrible time,
but the whole complexity of the situation
seems to escape Catherine.

You're being told this
so you'll understand why I was kidnapped.
The S.L.A. has declared
war against the Government
I'm telling you now why this happened
so that you'll know
so that you'll have
something to use,
the knowledge
to try to get me out of here.
Bye.

I’m the happiest mother in the whole world.

I hope that you'll make sure that they don't do anything else like that Oakland business.

Q. Do you recall you spoke those words, Miss Hearst?
A. Can I see the transcript?

I don't believe Patty's legal problems are that serious. After all, she's primarily a kidnap victim. She never went off and did anything of her own free will.

From the moment I was kidnapped,
they consistently attempted to
discredit the revolutionaries.
After the first communique was received,
the pigs reacted by hauling out the stress machines.
The machines indicated I was being tortured
and kept awake 24 hours a day.
I guess that all the pigs expected me
to keep my mouth shut,
but I was furious.
They put away their trickology for a while.
If you believe the media,
you'd think I was totally weird.
According to them, I never mean anything.

Catherine, while still blond and attractive, has aged around the corners of the eyes.

Greetings to the people,
this is Tania.
Our actions of April 15
forced the Corporate State
to help finance the revolution.
As for being brainwashed,
the idea is ridiculous beyond belief.
I am a soldier in the People's Army.

I am Tania and We are not fooling around.

What could have been a tremendous instrument for change—Patty's kidnapping—has failed, and their old attitudes toward life—I guess it's called ‘conservatism’—are back

The kids who went to public schools
were not the kind of people
we should have close associations with.
As a result, I spent twelve years
almost totally surrounded by young people
who were busily developing
ruling class aspirations.

She has nowhere to go,
as resulted in only a change of captors.
But at least now,
as long as society is her
captor,
she does not have to worry about being killed.
Freedom may be a more awesome
alternative
-- you are not here to decide that.
We have a framework,
the SLA predicted this trial.
If we can't break the chain
at some point in their predictions,
there are going to be other Patricia Hearsts,
the blueprint is plain,
it works

A year and a half after her kidnapping,
she's in the safe arms of the law.
So, what does she do?
Patty gives the revolutionary salute,
even when she's in handcuffs.
And when she's booked,
she's asked her occupation
and what does she say?
Urban guerilla.

Bailey, I just –
I don't know him,
you know,
like he just kind of drifts in
and you know,
says blah, blah, blah
and I just go,
oh,
okay.

It was never true that our objective was to reconvert her.

You can almost see how Patty couldn’t relate to her—you know, trying to be so self-righteous and so upright.

Well, I always knew
that the Lord was in my life,
kind of on my shoulder.
I started to stray off
I always knew His hand
was there to bring me back.
I got to the house,
put my bags down in the entry,
went right to the kitchen
and the first thought on my heart was
I need to hear Jesus.
I picked up that Bible
and started in Matthew 1:1.
For that whole five days
I read and cried
and read and cried.

In short order, she returned to being the Patty Hearst of Hillsborough, California, the heiress herself.

It's kind of fun because back then,
there's nothing else to do but paint your nails.
It's really exciting.
I have been crocheting now.
At least, my mother came in and she asked –
she had asked me,
about my hair,
you know,
like
can I change it back?
She asked if there was a beauty parlor.

Her eyes are,
for the most part,
downcast,
as if she were sharing a secret with
herself.

She’s such a devoted, old-fashioned Southern lady, that we just died watching her facade break. That hysteria wasn’t just grief that Patty was gone—it was guilt, you know, ‘What have I done wrong?’

I'm being treated in accordance
with the Geneva Convention
and one of the conditions being
that I am not being tried
for crimes which I'm not responsible for.
I'm here because
I'm a member of a ruling class family,
and I think you can begin to see the analogy.

She writes these dramatic
love letters to her boyfriend saying,
"I want to keep up the fight for the revolution."
And she wants to overthrow the government in America,
which she spells A-M-E-R-I-K-K-K-A.

Q. And you were reading a paper, were you not, when they were in the store?
A. Yes.
Q. And you looked up from that paper, did you not, and you saw that William Harris was being held on the ground by someone and being detained, isn’t that true?
A. Yes.
Q. And you picked up an automatic weapon and shot in the direction of Mel’s Sporting Goods Store?

OBJECTION

I have a really nice brown pantsuit.
Al got it.
He has really good taste.

Trish Tobin
is telling her
that she is about to head off to Switzerland
to go skiing for three weeks.
I mean,
so what you have
in this compressed circumstance
is the old life skiing in Switzerland
for three weeks,
and Patty is saying,
I've got a life now.
I've got a new life.

The Hearsts are really ramping up for this one.
He is a bright guy,
but in terms of just his manner and his dress,
you couldn't help but be struck by
how square he was.

Q: I've become conscious and can never go back to the life we had before." Do you recall saying those words?
A: I don’t recall seeing a transcript of that tape.

I have chosen to stay and fight.

She is still an uncommonly handsome woman, prettier in fact than any of her daughters.

It’s a miracle she survived at all.
The ordeal nearly killed me,
Mrs. Hearst once admitted and,
asked what sustained her,
she answers instantly: My religion.
Yet her victory over despair
sometimes seems more apparent than real.
After her divorce, she moved to Beverly Hills,
where she supported Catholic causes
and joined the Beverly Hills Garden Club.

I just want to tell you like, my politics are real different from way back when.
Obviously, right.

Q. Is it not true that you ejected
from your automatic weapon
a live round and placed into it
an additional clip?
A. I did not have an automatic weapon.
Q. You did not?
A. No.
Q. What type of weapon did you have?
A. It was an M-I carbine.

She’s a victim of thought control by terrorists. And all I can do is hope and pray that God will bring her home again.

She was de-programmed and de-radicalized,
returned to the persona
more similar to what she was
She was essentially brainwashed
by her side team and her lawyers.
By the time she walked into the courtroom,
nail polish,
nice pair of shoes,
very well dressed,
it was impressive.

I'm terribly happy. More happy than predacious.
Do you have any notion what you'll say to her when you see her?
I'll tell her I love her.
Are there questions that you want to ask her?
No questions in my mind.


I want to see my parents, and my sisters... I'm really happy to be going home.
Bailey B  Dec 2009
Where I'm From
Bailey B Dec 2009
I'm Bailey.
I sometimes forget to recycle.
I'm from singing camels and trigonometry.
From soap bubbles and yellow scarves, Irish hymns and Zucchini the ferret,
piano keys, bluebonnet seeds, and DO NOT ENTER signs.
From salt.
I'm the color of hosed off sidewalk chalk.
I'm all summer in a day.
I'm a conglomeration of artistic thoughts that make me look more profound than I actually am.
I'm your infinite playlist.
I'm from elephant necklaces and rosemary bushes
from high-heeled taps and Camelot
threadless socks, shopping carts, and impromptu salons.
I'm the fifth ninja turtle.
I live where you laugh so hard you cry.
I'm from carrots and ranch.
I'm a happy cow from California, a fortune cookie with your enchilada, a drill team skirt over marching uniforms.
I'm from unfinished crossword puzzles and forgotten dead languages
from pixie dust and snapcracklepop
from actually-it's-pronounced's, because-i-said-so's, and that's-not-my-name's.
I am Nancy Drew with a Peter Pan complex.
I come from honeysuckle candles and sunroofs of pickup trucks
broken-down fences and peach salsa
the second you step onstage.
I'm from in between.
I'm Bailey.
I don't drive the speed limit.
And I'm from you.
Sam Hammond Aug 2018
I can see Cecily's ****** bars.
Sammy can see them as well.
After he speaks
I keep catching him peek.
She knows that he sees, I can tell.

Bailey has smoked too much **** again.
He's dribbling over my shoes.
He acted all jokey
And tried out smoke me.
It went without saying he'd lose.

Tom's on the floor by the table.
We don't know if he's alive,
Hugging Joe's feet,
Who is slumped on the seat.
I don't think they're due to survive.

Chris had a couple of pills.
Ethan a tab or a few.
Toria's tweaking,
Max is just peaking,
Matt's throwing up in the loo.

I'm on the sofa while writing,
Louie beside me in tears.
We may have our issues
With drugs and their misuse,
But **** it, it gives me ideas.
Mrs Bailey
I have a bone to pick with you.
You have taken my tie and in exchange
you've given me this:
A clip-on incarnation of communist conformity.
Good grades may be the most important thing to you,
And they're pretty **** important to me too!
But, in taking away our ties, you have taken away
a tiny bit more of what
makes me, me.
And him, him.
And her, her.

And us, us.

And I mean come on,
what difference will it make?

How is a clip on tie going to make me
a better writer?
Or a more fluent spanish speaker?
Or a
MORE
DRAMATIC
ACTOR?

How is a clip on tie supposed to
help me learn when,
all I'm doing in lessons is
scratching
my
neck?
Just to give you some context: my school has always had a fairly strict uniform, but recently - since "Mrs Bailey" aquired more power - the school's been plunging deeper and deeper into a "big brother" society. So, when they took away everyone's ties and enforced clip-ons, I thought something had to be said: so here it is.

— The End —