"chauffer" poems
Downton Abbey’s going off the air.
I’m not through yet, it’s just not fair.
Nothing before that show ever had
That kind of class, that degree of flair.
Life without my weekly Downton
Is too sad and inordinately scary.
What will I do without my frequent fix
Of the elegantly snarky Lady Mary?
And will the feckless Mister Barrow
Ever develop a true human soul?
I am sure this handsome actor fellow
Will never again get such a meaty role.
And the Dowager Duchess herself,
She is not someone easily done with.
She is, after all, tradition incarnate,
And under all that, she’s Maggie Smith.
Bates and his Anna filled my heart
With alternating sorrow and great joy
Almost as much as a lady of nobility
Marrying the handsome chauffer boy.
Dresses and hair lengths shortened
And nobility began to get real jobs.
All this was before ****** flared up
And turned starving folks into a mob.
I never missed that we were seeing
The transition from ‘la belle epoque’.
That time was running out for that
In the worlds ever-changing clock.
It was a yesterday we never knew
We of the age of electric equality.
We got to look inside and see it
In all its grandly overdressed reality.
I had begun to recognize artwork, in
Lovely strolls through baronial halls
And huge family meals at table.
I am sorry that it is over for us all.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
These rain drops won't leave me alone. It's not
the clouds that torment me, it's the ******* rain.
The rain drops like to see me miserable, and
the clouds are just their chauffer
I still love the rain, though.
I still love you, though.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
She's isn't strong until she needs to be.
She isn't tired until everyone else has gone to sleep.
She's up first and the last one to sleep. Sometimes she doesn't even get to eat....
She's the nurse the doctor the cook,and the house cleaner . Shes the chauffer and a referee too. She's the messenger, a teacher, and at times a personal seamstress.In case you didn't know. She's the friend ,and the displinarian, She does it all . She's the one we call when, we're stranded at the mall, she's the one we confide in when he didn't call. She's there when your girlfriend dumps you for your best friend. Shes there through thick and thin. Shes always there to lend her hand.. She worries , and she panics ,and she can get really ****** off to,,but she hides it very well, because she's also a sophisticated lady the whole way through. Did I mention she's also a magician! She's the only one who can heal an ouie with a simple and gentle kiss . She's the one and only person in this world ,to whom every calls their MOM....
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 4:47 AM UTC
Au café je m'assieds
Et bois lentement une tasse de thé,
Laisse la boisson chaude me chauffer.
À travers la fenêtre, je regarde la pluie.
Puis, je te vois de l'autre côté de la rue,
Mais tu ne me vois pas—
Pas encore de toute façon—
Caché de la pluie qui tombe à verse
Dans ton imperméable.
Mais je ne supporte pas ça encore,
Et je cours dehors vers toi.
Tu me vois enfin,
Et viens me rencontrer à mi-chemin.
Au milieu de la rue,
Nous nous embrassons.
Tout souci de la pluie
Emporté par une vague d'émotion.
Et comme le ciel verse son âme pour la terre,
Ainsi je verserai mon âme pour toi,
Mon amour.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 3:48 PM UTC
( 10/24/12)
First and foremost - I am a man
And I had to gratify my needs
Then she came along and planted her seed.
Right then I knew she had to be part of my life
So I made her my wife.
But there was still something missing in my heart
And it was tearing me apart.
What was this need - this desire - that I had to fill?
I couldn’t give up, it was bugging me still.
Then it dawned on me that I would never be complete
Until I had a child playing at my feet.
I fulfilled my goal that my wife would
No longer work- and all my friends called me a ****
I was always taught that the man must be
The family head - and on that road I would tread.
Being in the food line since the age of eight
I did not have to contemplate
Every one has to eat ! So supermarkets and
Restaurant management I had to defeat.
I knew also that I would have to be a
“ jack of all trades” - so I watched and questioned
Others who had the skills of plumbing , carpentry
Electrical too, these were things that a home owner must do.
I had become her husband, chauffer, and her friend
And to her , my ear I’d lend.
All her appointments , I was there
And the results we would share.
Then the news came that I waited to hear
That my wife was pregnant and my child she did bear.
Now I felt whole, I felt complete
This news wiped me off my feet
I knew already That a girl would be the part
Who would capture my soul, and heart.
They say only a mother can know the
Pleasures and pains- “ but” in a fathers heart
He feels the same.
He does not feel the kicks and turns
And the morning sickness that a woman may feel
But he shares the joys that he sees on her face
As on her stomach his hand is placed.
Now my need, my desire was filled
And I rejoice to this day still.
© L . RAMS
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
The secret life of
mack the knife
his teeth shined a pearly white
they glistened like fallen snow
his smile would melt the ladies hearts
and leave them feeling aglow
but when he chose to leave his bite
the smile turned to a snear
Louie called said I'll see you at the club
yeah Mack meet in the rear
he was a banker by the daylight
a vicious killer in the night
he always thought that he would
find time to make things right
he left his victims on the sidewalk
or a tugboat by the shore
their throats cut from ear to ear
the coppers going door to door
but not a single soul was talking
nobody saw anything
but they could tell by the looks
they'd be dead if they chose to sing
Louie wanted Souky Taudry whacked
he was messin with Jenny Diver
she's my girl and I ain't taking that
I'll set you up to be his driver
he wore a disguise of a chauffer
fancy coat pants and a cap
but when he took a wrong turn
Souky knew he was in for bad crap
they found him in the alley
his life oozing out on the street
his throat cut by Mack the Knife
another job had been complete
back at the bank the next morning
he was all smiles and slapping backs
nobody knew his secret life
or if they were the next one he whacks
Gomer Lepoet...
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
So this New Boy just graduated
from The Top University and Full Honors
and all that jazz and the Right Degrees
(none of the arts and philosophy and poetry
and all that crap)
walks into Supreme Office
for his interview
and the HR and PR and Admin and the CEO
and the SR and the RR and DDR and the RRRR
(don’t ask me what they are – they just are rrrrrr)
and so the CEO asks our Golden Child Prodigy:
*“You got all the top degrees and qualifications
You’re the brightest mind just out of University –
what’d do you expect for pay here at Supreme Office
if you make it to a chair and table?”*
*“A pay that will put $100K in my pocket
to take home the first year, and it will be more
each passing year”*
“What about,” says the CEO, with that cold smile
that matches the Golden Boy’s enamel smile
*“if I said we offer you above that
and a month’s paid leave, a secretary
and a room all to yourself and chauffer-driven car
even in the weekends
and all medical, insurance
dental and tropical vacations all paid for?
What’d do you say?”*
“You’re kidding, right?” says Bright Kid Business Mozart
with that rising-star lean and sneer
“Of course I am,” says the CEO
“But don’t blame me for the joke – you started it…”
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
I always knew your biggest pet peeve was not being taken seriously, but here I am today mocking you. But if I say your hair is a mess, I really mean it looks unbelievably adorable when it curls up like that, just so.
And I know you could never be my chauffer, I know that now, and it isn't because we both don't even have our licenses yet. I'm simply coming to terms with the fact that I live inside of a bubble, underground, a million kilometers below sea level. And you are a shape shifter, only able to transform and transcend into creatures with wings. Maybe they don't all have wings necessarily, but wings could be a symbol for freedom, and they most certainly have that ability.
So one day you are a falcon. The next you are in outer space, being a creature that isn't even discovered by man yet. No matter what, you're still free. And I am still imprisoned.
You would think being inside this cell would teach me that no, you do not care what I think about your hair curling up at the ends, just so. And that yes, you are way too high above the clouds for an underground lady like myself. But I just never learn.
Perhaps the only way I will ever learn is when I find a new shape shifter. One who is not limited to beings of the sky, but one who can morph into anything. Maybe even a petite, rusty old key that can unlock me. And set me free.
And maybe, just maybe, that new shape shifter won't even have curly hair.
P.S. Please come soon.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
Pall Mall cigarettes ashed into a small, white plastic ash-tray.
The remains resemble grains of sand at the beach.
Lonely nights sent his way.
A perfect world in yesterday's time zone.
Health problems with no regards.
Happiness drifting so far,
Like a lost child in a newly discovered city.
Miles away from love, family, and the thoughts of tomorrow.
Cheap ***** damaging the insides of his slim, Caucasian stomach.
I think of him from a distance, a few miles from where time seem to disappear.
In a caged atmosphere, which must remain secret to outside ears.
Afraid of words that could ****
Afraid of the chance where time stands still.
The day after it burns into the back of my brain.
Making me feel slightly insane.
Like if I told him in just few short days how my hopes are so high,
would it all plop down the drain.
Painfully rinsing off my first impression of him.
Would I give him so many empty promises like the one's of my past?
Would he leave me afraid to be in love again?
**** a cure, the way he holds my hand, when he holds my hand.
I would rather be love sick, I hope it last like the caramel complexion of my skin.
I hope to be the chauffer driving him the hell away from where he has been.
I feel so crazy for expressing my feelings.
Though I feel as if he wants to be more than just friends,
From how we kissed.
I feel ******* nuts telling him, how after just a few short hours he is missed.
Though his loneliness is something he accepts.
From being in the same boat, I hope I can put it to rest.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
Fable X, Livre V.
- Lève une tête un peu moins haute,
Toi qui n'es bon qu'à me chauffer.
Tes fruits sont affreux. - C'est ta faute.
Ne devais-tu pas me greffer ?
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