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Bonnie & Clyde

You held my hart in your hands and my soul in your mouth, we watched the moon slip through the dark knight, A lullaby of blood and sticky labels, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.

won't you save me, for I've been running all my life, I've been sinning, I've been stealing and I know that that ain't right, won't you save me, won't you teach me right from wrong, I've been sinning, I've been stealing, please take me home.

We sang to the pound of the engine, you lay your head in my lap, so sweet so simple, you toyed with the coins in my pocket, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.

won't you save me, for I've been running all my life, I've been sinning, I've been stealing and I know that that ain't right, won't you save me, won't you teach me right from wrong, I've been sinning, I've been stealing, please take me home.

We danced to the  backdrop of yellow fields, spattered with red confetti, shookhands with the devil, all dressed in rags, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.

The devil he has taken me, and I can't run no more, No more sinning or stealing, for now my life is done; you can't save me, You can't teach me right from wrong, No more sinning, No more stealing, For now this soul has gone.

Ten cops, camera and a smile, Photo for a trophy, V8 Ford full of holes, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.
Gospel song  sung by bonnie,
Bonnie's redemption prayer;
but it still all ends in bloodshed.
Eleni Jun 2017
Friday- the most promising day of all.
The beginning of the weekend, but the one day that will spark appall.

Down on Mainstreet all the girls
In their fringed dresses, pouting their foxy lips and their hair waving in short messes.

The hags frown as the winged ladies pass by- displaying their carriages a little sly.

Oh, but Jane's favourite speakeasy was 'The Back Room' down on Norfolk Street: the place where the lost creatures meet.

Tin ceilings, velvet wallpaper, plush thrones and back in that dark corner, there is the sound of low moans.

'A whiskey, neat, please' as a shadow in a tuxedo walked towards her and he whispered 'Hi,' in a sensual purr.

'Who are you?' he stirred,
'Oh, I'm Miss Doe' and he lept into the stool with a swift flow.

And the jazz trumpets married the spontaneous harmonies and the saxophone created sublime melodies.

So they sat as idle as ghouls in the dim spotlights, until Jane asked Mr Buck:

'D'you fight in the war?' And he whined 'Cambrai, Amiens and Lys' - his lips seemed a little sore.

'I'm sorry - do I know you?' His face looked as familiar as Jay to Nick. A brief pause in time at that smile.

That was the final chord to the "lick".
He drove her down to Roslyn- to his replica of Versailles and Jane looked intensely shy.

'Oh, do come in,' the desperado soughed. And she walked into the gilded palace which Cupid's presence bowed.

'I have a favour to ask of you, Miss Doe. Would you be as kind to wash away my woe?'

And as they congressed under diamond chandeliers, his comrades gathered around the bed in amorphous silhouettes; watching disgustedly.

As for Mr Buck he was an alien, skin-to-skin with a haunted beauty and Miss Doe- a labourer on duty.
A story based on the aftermath of the First World War, the birth of a "lost generation" and the excess of the 1920s.

1 'Miss Doe...Mr Buck' referring to a mature female of mammals of which the male is called 'buck'. This further adds to the animalistic imagery of their encounter.

2 'Cambrai, Amiens and Lys' battles of the First World War which the United States was comprised of the allied effort.

3 'Jay to Nick... that smile' an allusion of 'The Great Gatsby' when Gatsby and Nick meet for the first time at one of his lavish parties. Nick romanticises Gatsby's understanding smile.

4 'Lick' a jazz term for a repeating pattern or phrase in music.

5 'Replica of Versailles' a regal palace in France in this poem representing the wealthy individuals of 1920s America in New York.
Jazz, women, and the start of a new era.
Gambling, drinking, the illegal actions
That gave everyone a thrill.

They are doing it, so why can't I?
Parties, drinking, music, recklessness.

A bit of freedom and women run loose like
They've never seen the light of the moon,
They are the flappers.

Moving pictures like magic,
Lets go to the movies,
Lets go see the stars!
The drama!

The machines! The wonders of
Mass production and a gas engine!
Speed and toxic smells of factories.
Beginning in WWI,
The men were at war,
Fighting, killing,
Causing their own Post Traumatic Stress.
And we stayed. Our country, our families needed us.
We replaced them. The men. We replaced them
In their jobs. We did as they did.
We kept the country and the troops
On their feet.
Created weapons.
Kept businesses running,
Did the banking.
The women took charge for once.
The war and the economic trouble got us
On our feet and we did the same
For our nation and our men.
Some did not like that we were working as they had,
Walking in their shoes, but we sure did.
Lies! Money is greed, greed is money,
Credit is given to the wrong types of people.
The stupid ones who were not taught
How to behave with their newfound freedom
And systems of fake income!
Don't spend what you do not have,
But they believed they had everything.
Love. Money. ***. Fame and fortune, the world
Was in their hands!
Until it all crashed down in 1929
A C Leuavacant May 2014
Melted souls
The old one grows
The tic and tac beneath my toes
A last regret
These paths forget
That once I had a room to let

Back before
A ****** war
Lovers and poets dreamed for more
A better day
A bed to stay
A gun to keep The Lord away

Before I fought
I often thought
That hopes and dreams could all be sought
But now my goals
All filled with holes
O'Connell street like melting souls

— The End —