#prohibition
I had my cake and I ate it too,
like all the time in the world that you took.
Adorned with cherries
and decorated with cream,
like the taste of my lips
that is only a thing of your dreams.
I thought I have once
tasted a slice of heaven,
only for it to rot away to
a thing from hottest hell.
I had my time and you took it too,
like my faith and my core that you shook.
Laced with grace
and the promise of salvation,
thoughts of your touch once felt
like a dream vacation.
I thought I have once
been granted patience,
only for it to burn down a hole
in my purest conscience.
But then I was sure I had it all,
the diamonds, the universe,
I had you, but then I also have a curse.
The parties, the best jazz age whiskeys,
these shall be enough to distract me.
The waiting, the wondering
are opulence I could no longer afford.
Like my favorite vice I had to abandon,
you are a glimmering borrowed gown
I shall never again don.
But then I'm sure I could do more,
the Philippine pearls, the world,
wrapped around my finger in a red cord.
The weddings, the finest wines I could buy,
these shall do good to get me by.
The patience, the pitying
are charities I could no longer give.
Like a prayer I utter in front of a new lover,
I am the luxury, the gold, all the fortune
you would never wager.
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 1:11 PM UTC
Prohibition began one hundred years ago in the USA.
People had their right to drink ***** taken away.
This made people unhappy and they began to whine.
And this caused Al Capone to start peddling moonshine.
Capone was evil and because of him, people were killed.
On December 5 1933, the 18th Amendment was repealed.
People were very happy because prohibition came to an end.
They were as giddy as school girls to have the right to drink again.
Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 10:06 AM UTC
Honey-flowing rivulets of jazz-beaten syncope,
Trumpets blowing smoke across the room,
‘Curveball’ Sammy hustles bass behind the bar,
Snares his songbird in a played back loop.
Harlem shufflers work the floor, breaking safe,
Clave rhythm scufflers with a New York twist,
Black keys write with borrowed brass on iv’ry walls,
Pick the lock on a swelt’ring southern riff.
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 10:39 PM UTC
He’s got natural rhythm, a girl in a red dress, a suit of clothes, a hat and a silk vest,
A set of brogues, a packet of cigarettes, a 20 dollar bill with no regrets.
He’s got a fast mouth, a slick deck of cards, chequered blues and a V8 ford;
He’s got jazz, gospel, and ragtime too: a carpet bag and a jug for *****
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik!
He’s got it, he’s got Jake,
His feet will roam from town to town.
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik, Sheik!
He’s the devil with a big black snake,
Your feet may never leave this town; not alive anyway!
For he’s on the board walk,
She’s on the board walk,
We’re on the board walk now!
He’s got mojo, see him switch and walk, a winning smile, a stick of chalk,
He’s a hot shot, man about town, his skin is sweet and his eyes are brown,
He’ll strut that rooster, beat them gums, take cash or cheque before she comes.
He’s got jazz, gospel, ragtime too, a carpet bag and a jug for *****
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik!
He’s got it, he’s got Jake,
His feet will roam from town to town,
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik, Sheik!
He’s the devil and no mistake
Your feet may never leave this town; not alive anyway!
For he’s on the board walk,
She’s on the board walk,
We’re on the board walk now!
Song Link: https://youtu.be/l5papPgYaBc
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 6:53 AM UTC
Break the chains,
The rope, the cloth,
Remove them from my body,
They're not really soft,
Erase me from your mind,
And let it all at ease,
Apparently I am dark,
I am ruthless,
I am nothing like a kind sheep,
Me, a monster,
Me, a lost, wandering soul,
Me, everything that a wolf should be,
It is I,
The one you hate,
The one you despise,
Moan not with satisfaction and pleasure,
But with an angsty, horrified and high-pitched groan
Yell not like how the waves hit the rocks,
But how a knife scratches glass,
Glass that would be broken,
Shatter me,
Yet you can't,
Because you cannot break a sword,
A sword that's already broken,
Sacred my secrets,
My secrets of my deep sadness,
It's not my darkness you see,
But the tears of my agony,
I show my catastrophe,
I don't give calamity,
Like a mirror reflects your identity,
My emotions,
My body language,
It reflects my animosity,
My life,
My well being.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
In my younger
and more vulnerable years
I
walked
on
I was lonely
no longer
I was a guide
a pathfinder
I had that familiar
conviction
that life
was beginning over
promising to unfold
that shining secret
that only
Midas
and Morgan
and Maecenas knew,
that the wingless
had been overlooked
in a fashion
that rather
took
your
breath
away.
I was fragilely bound into
a murmured apology
of moths
among
the whispers
and the champagne
and the stars
Bantering inconsequence
that was made of
infinitesimal
hesitation
I repeated blankly
a surprising
shill metallic urgency
Bloomed with light
it sort of crept in on us
that I
had truly
heard nothing at all
In the unquiet darkness
continually smoldering
with disappointment
in the solemn echoing
green light.
a dim hazy cast
lay upon my love
your love
belongs
to me
She insisted
its too late now
he scowled
I could only stare
as
she cried
A terrible
terrible
Mistake!
you ask too much
she told me
I love you now.
you cant repeat the past
he said
why,
of
course
you can!
I paid a
high price
for living too long
with a
single
dream.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Don't you ever
have moments
where you want to get
so high
your pain becomes funny,
so drunk
you seek company and comfort
in strangers,
so numb,
*so ****** up*,
so incoherent,
feelings aren't felt,
thoughts aren't thought,
pain isn't painful?
Oh, right...
Me neither.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
The seed of joy is now gone,
the men on top trying too hard,
just let the drink hold,
and let everyone taste the drink of gold.
The men up top have not done that,
driving the great drug away,
thinking they are doing right,
oh how they don’t posses great sight.
New distributers have come around,
the uppers oblivious to all,
basically letting the drink hold,
oh how I love the taste of gold.
I think the top believes they won,
but I hope they realize what they did,
crimes of innocence now arise,
the marvelous drink I do not despise.
The saga ends with fault,
new people come here to supply,
men living in the wretched clink,
all because of the golden drink.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC