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judy smith Jun 2015
Fashion, fun and entertainment will feature on August 1 when Hospice West Auckland and national business networking organisation BNI New Zealand partner to present the Absolutely Fabulous Fashion Show, proudly supported by major sponsor Douglas Pharmaceuticals.

Returning due to popular demand, the outrageous fashion fundraising event features upcycled outfits sourced from donations to West Auckland Hospice Shops. Included in the evening is a ‘Designer Clothes Sale’ featuring garments seen on the catwalk, which will be available to purchase on the night. Modelling the clothes will be celebrities, prominent Aucklanders, Hospice staff and professional models.

Award winning ‘Comedienne of the Decade’ and celebrity host for the evening Michele A’Court was delighted to be asked to MC the event. “It just sounds like tremendous fun and I am a sucker for Hospice fundraisers, so I jumped at the chance to be involved. Also, I am a massive fan of op shops, so how could I resist?”

CEO of Hospice West Auckland, Barbara Williams said, “We know the audience is in for a very special night for a great cause, with lots of laughs. We also want to showcase the fabulous range of designer clothing that donors so generously give us, and to highlight the quality of garments available from our Hospice Shops. Op shopping is good for your wallet, the planet and your community and we are keen to show that it can also be brilliant for your wardrobe.”

Barbara is delighted to welcome Douglas Pharmaceuticals as the major sponsor this event. “Douglas is a key supporter of Hospice West Auckland and Founder Sir Graeme Douglas has been our Patron since 1996. We are thrilled to have Jeff Douglas, Managing Director, continuing their support and appreciate his commitment to this event.”

Barbara acknowledges the support of long-time partner BNI NZ as a major asset for the event. “BNI’s networking groups up and down the country have supported Hospice for many years and raised over a million dollars for Hospice nationally.”

“Our long standing relationships with Douglas and BNI NZ and are very important to us, not only financially but also in terms of engaging with the communities their businesses operate in.”

Graham Southwell, National Director of BNI NZ, says BNI has a strong presence in West Auckland with a lot of local businesses participating in its networking groups. “Hospice West Auckland approached us because they know that we have active local business members in the community that could provide resources and help make this event even bigger and better this year,” Graham says. “It’s exciting to work with Hospice and use our expertise in BNI to help collaboratively put on the event. At BNI we are all about creating strong relationships in the community and Hospice have come to us because of our network and assistance with logistics as well as getting the word out about this fabulous event.”

Guests will be able to purchase some fabulous fashion, bid on a range of exciting auction items as well as enjoy wine, canapés and live music. All proceeds from the event will go to Hospice West Auckland, who provides free palliative care and support to patients and families living with terminal and life-limiting illness.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015
Barton D Smock Apr 2013
I pick a child to bring with me.  it’s Sunday, and we need bread for the week.  the market’s been gutted since the lot of them were born.  I used to errand with my wife but it made her feel alone.  we starved together for months before receiving notice we were no good at it.  in that same notice was an invitation to attend a symposium on regulating orphanhood.  we decided to go and at that to go arm-in-arm as a grandly private joke.  we came home ready to be serious and went about choosing six, all sent from heaven, as we thought they’d been kicked out.
Tyler King Sep 2016
"You are my drug, I'm addicted to you"
Says the poet, immaculate, grinning his way through juvenile metaphors and picking his teeth with the bones of the dead horse he's been beating, Slick ******* on a stage locking eyes with every girl in the room, cocky enough that he thinks he can make every single one of them think that this poem is about them, and that they'll just -get it- , that it's just a -metaphor- of course he has no experience with drugs, he's never watched anybody wither away to nothing, he's never had an itch that took his body hostage at a cellular level,  he's a real -stand up guy- he's just -sensitive- he's a real ****** honest to god artist standing before them and from there it's all but too easy to ******* his way into some casual ***,

"It's always someone nice who gets killed, it's never some toothless ******"
Says the comedienne, immaculate, laughing into television cameras, and everyone gets the implication here,
The ****** is not human
The drug addict does not deserve life
If you made the choice you should pay the consequence
Stop breathing while people who actually deserve it are dying
Don't talk to me about the socioeconomic climate that breeds drug use
Don't give me statistics
Don't you dare send those rats to rehab, if they're going to live they should do it behind bars, locked in a cage like the vermin they are

"I thought I could stop this time"
Said my best friend as I wrapped a blanket around him,
He is weak, he is ice cold and still sweating, he is on three day withdrawal and he will relapse tomorrow once I have left, he will have been dead for nearly 4 years by the time you hear this poem, and the silence that follows will take shape, and it will whisper,
"Good"
K Balachandran Aug 2017
comedienne's eyes
swiftly seek my funny bone,
laughter explosion!
The phone had only been on a day
When the cranky calls began,
‘Nobody knows we’re on,’ I said,
When at first the **** thing rang.
I had to run up the passageway
To catch it before it stopped,
Then there was just an awesome hush
Like a tree before it’s lopped.

The line dropped out at the first ‘hello’
As if they would wait for me
To run the length of the passageway,
Expend all that energy,
I’m sure they laughed as they cut me off
Though of course, I couldn’t hear,
‘It’s dead again,’ I would rage and froth
‘Though it must be someone near.’

‘It better not be your stupid friend,’
I said to my wife, Diane,
‘The one that’s such a comedienne
Who annoys me when she can.’
‘It isn’t her,’ was Diane’s reply
In her testy, haughty tone,
‘She wouldn’t ring when she knows I’m here,
But wait till you’re home alone.’

But the phone rang every evening,
At the high point of our show,
Just as they named the villain, and
I nodded to her to go.
‘You go,’ she’d say, ‘I’ve worked all day,
And it really is your phone,’
I’d grit my teeth up the passageway
And rage at it on my own.

I finally let it ring and ring
And refused to pick it up,
‘I’ll teach them never to mess with me,’
As I drank a second cup,
A truck arrived in the morning and
It dumped a ton of twine
Blocking all of the driveway while
Some clown said it was mine!

‘I never ordered this blasted twine,
You should have come to the door,
Confirmed the order you say you had,
What would I want it for?’
‘We got the order over the phone
So we rang, with no reply,
Somebody said you don’t pick up
You’re such an eccentric guy.’

I always answered it after that,
And after the pig dung treat,
Fifteen tons, and the smell had hung
The length of our angry street,
We tried to tell them it wasn’t us
We said it must be the phone,
I know that I would have picked it up
If only I had been home.

We never did get a proper call,
One where somebody spoke,
I don’t think anyone likes me, and
That phone’s a pig in a poke,
I went outside and I cut the cord
To the world who scorned our line,
Then went inside where the blasted phone
Still rang, one final time.

I picked it up and I snapped, ‘Who’s that!’
And a voice came on the line,
It wasn’t a voice I knew, it spat
And it gruffly asked the time,
‘You’ve cut us off from the Internet,
I hope you’re feeling spry,
We live in your rhododendrons, and
You’ve made the fairies cry!’

David Lewis Paget
Kelly Nov 2016
I didn't know
what to make of you
the first time we met.

You have one of those faces
that makes me feel like
I've seen you before--
on TV, in a movie,
someone famous.

Your jokes and quick wit
had me convinced that
I'd befriended a comedienne
when first getting to know you,

but upon learning more about you,
I realized you are more of
a renowned poker player,
somehow able to make
the hand you were dealt
into something valuable.

Like Mr. Gorbachev,
you listened to Reagan:
you tore down the walls
that confined you--
that people used
to define you--
and used them
to remind you
just how fortunate you are.

Like the rest of today's celebrities,
you are penning your own story.
Arlene Corwin Mar 2018
Coming Down To Earth

If you’re famous,
There will always be a someone
Who has never heard or seen a picture
Of the likes of you;
Not seen your picture,
Doesn’t have the least idea
Who, what you are
Or what you stand for.

Doesn’t that scoot little you right down
To terra firma?
Started this in two fourteen.
Found it on a teeny hidden-somewhere-scrap.
It’s two eighteen: I feel the same as.
(rhymes with famous – see line 1)
Poet’s freedom once again,’’’
I can’t resist.
Might have been comedienne,
But then,
It’s not my calling.)

Anyway,
It does become one
(rhymes with someone -see line 2)
To come down to planet earth
And stick to anonymity.

Do your job,
Stick to your your day.
Things are working out your way
Without you knowing
What they’re doing.
Let the winds of fate and karma
Make the lack of show your army.

Coming Down To Earth 3.1.2018 Circling Round Reality; Definitely Didactic: Arlene Corwin
Fame and name are so transient.  A bit of a nothing.
Olivia Kent Dec 2016
We're tired they said.
Before fumbling and stumbling blindly into bed.
The warren ceased it's burrowing's.
Comedienne, bade the world goodbye, before she took her leave.
Princess Leia's bleeding heart was wiped upon her sleeve.
George Micheal, crept unexpectedly into his duvet covered bed.
Covered his head and drifted into eternal slumber.
How many more complete the number. After all 2016, must bear the number of the beast.
Maybe, just maybe the Grim Reaper's had his final feast,
For this year anyway.
(c)LIVVI
elle Dec 2018
She discriminates none, no story unread,
Tales of magic and creation and death,
Some inspire her with happiness, others with dread.

She reads Shakespeare's Macbeth,
Fairy tales from the brothers Grimm,
Luxurious stories stealing her breath.

When at last her mind is filled to the brim,
She takes up her pen,
And writes on a whim.

The words spill out, again and again,
She tries her hand at jokes,
A skilled comedienne.

She writes of a forest of oaks,
Waiting for the spring,
Shivering under their snowy cloaks.

She tells a tales of a king,
Of a child alone,
She writes of a bird with only one wing.

As the years fly by she sits on her throne,
Made up of hopes and dreams and words
The number of stories she’s written is unknown.

She says goodbye twice, then comes back for thirds,
Her body is worn, but her mind is sharp,
She lets go, and flies with the birds.

She swims with the carp,
She fights with the knights,
She listens to the ethereal sound of the harp.

Her spirit lives on, she soars to new heights.
Constantly busy,
Forever seeing the sights.
Bob B May 2018
So "Roseanne" is off the air;
ABC has cancelled the show.
Hats off to the company
For its decision. Way to go!

After recent NFL
Corporate cowardice, people wonder
Whether the TV station would
Fail to act and therefore blunder.

Sadly, many people now
Are out of a job because of Roseanne.
(Although the show was popular,
I must admit, I wasn't a fan.)

People tweet many things,
Often ****** or asinine,
But this time the comedienne
Has unashamedly crossed the line.

Writing that an African-American
Woman was a cross between
Muslims and apes, Barr has shown
That her attacks are far beyond mean.

Once aware of the repercussions,
Roseanne Barr came out with the claim
That Ambien had made her do it--
Yes, Ambien was to blame.

The manufacturer of Ambien
Has responded with a shrug:
Racism is not a known
Side effect of the drug.

-by Bob B (5-30-18)
Wɜrdz spɛld kəˈrɛkt ˈvɜrsəs fəˈnɛtɪkˈspɛlɪŋ

alternately titled fun with phonics
ˈɔltərnətli ˈtaɪtəld fʌn wɪð ˈfɑnɪks
analogous when like first learning how to spell American English words

Əˈnæləgəs wɛn laɪk fɜrst ˈlɜrnɪŋ haʊ tu spɛl əˈmɛrəkən ˈɪŋglɪʃ wɜrdz

I thought to feign not knowing how to spell American English words

Aɪ θɔt tu feɪn nɑt ˈnoʊɪŋ haʊ tu spɛl əˈmɛrəkən ˈɪŋglɪʃ wɜrdz

and quickly realized the daunting task,

Ænd ˈkwɪkli ˈriəˌlaɪzd ðə ˈdɔntɪŋ tæsk,

thus sought magnanimity, gratuity, courtesy...
Google search (phonetic transcription of words) to assist me

Ðʌs sɔt magnanimity, grəˈtuɪti, ˈkɜrtəsi..
ˈgugəl sɜrʧ (fəˈnɛtɪk ˌtrænˈskrɪpʃən ʌv wɜrdz) tu əˈsɪst mi

Words spelled correct versus phonetic spelling
(the latter appended after poem concludes).

Thus now begins feeble attempt
to render rhyme for no reason
appended with phonetic translation
mainly as playful tease zen
synonymous imagining teaching
said exercise to eager children

reminding readers that young
and restless with spotty attention
hear spoken word while in utero,
post natal, subsequently when
he/she parrots parent(s) and/or

guardian, a more deliberate yen
arises to acquire greater cognition,
intuition, question (quest ja hen)
quickly devolving into faux ken
barbed riotous laughter analogous
trying wits of patient comedian/

comedienne resorting quite often
to repetition, remonstration,
reiteration... which frustration
might necessitate taking ten,
or so minutes of intermission
mindful mentor praises pen

ultimate verbal adroit ability
earning healthy treat for recitation,
perhaps recipient exceptionally
eager to advance passing golden
milestone able, ready, and will ***
to tackle writing correct spelling,

whence learning to hold pen(cil)
(without being vain) begin men
till process, which next step den
allows, enables and provides sen
sit heave hands on guidance

helping preschooler - all liven
and well with enthusiasm clutch
writing implement fingers open
before gently grasping above ren
during kudos with an amen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

wɜrdz spɛld kəˈrɛkt ˈvɜrsəs fəˈnɛtɪk ˈspɛlɪŋ

Ðʌs naʊ bɪˈgɪnz ˈfibəl əˈtɛmpt
tu ˈrɛndər raɪm fɔr noʊ ˈrizən
əˈpɛndɪd wɪð fəˈnɛtɪk trænˈzleɪʃən
ˈmeɪnli æz ˈpleɪfəl tiz zɛn
səˈnɑnəməs ɪˈmæʤənɪŋ ˈtiʧɪŋ
sɛd ˈɛksərˌsaɪz tu ˈigər ˈʧɪldrən

riˈmaɪndɪŋ ˈridərz ðæt jʌŋ
ænd ˈrɛstləs wɪð ˈspɑti əˈtɛnʃən
hir ˈspoʊkən wɜrd waɪl ɪn ˈjutəroʊ,

poʊst ˈneɪtəl, ˈsʌbsəkwəntli wɛn
hi/ʃi ˈpɛrəts ˈpɛrənt(ɛs) ænd/ɔr
ˈgɑrdiən, ə mɔr dɪˈlɪb(ə)rət jɛn
əˈraɪzəz tu əˈkwaɪər ˈgreɪtər kɑgˈnɪʃən,
ˌɪntuˈɪʃən, ˈkwɛsʧən (kwɛst jɑ hɛn)

ˈkwɪkli dɪˈvɑlvɪŋ ˈɪntu fɔks kɛn
bɑrbd ˈraɪətəs ˈlæftər əˈnæləgəs
ˈtraɪɪŋ wɪts ʌv ˈpeɪʃənt kəˈmidiən/
kəˌmidiˈɛn rɪˈzɔrtɪŋ kwaɪt ˈɔfən
tu ˌrɛpəˈtɪʃən, remonstration,
riˌɪtəˈreɪʃən... wɪʧ frəˈstreɪʃən

maɪt nəˈsɛsəˌteɪt ˈteɪkɪŋ tɛn,
ɔr soʊ ˈmɪnəts ʌv ˌɪntərˈmɪʃən
ˈmaɪndfəl ˈmɛnˌtɔr ˈpreɪzəz pɛn
ˈʌltəmət ˈvɜrbəl əˈdrɔɪt əˈbɪləti
ˈɜrnɪŋ ˈhɛlθi trit fɔr ˌrɛsəˈteɪʃən,
pərˈhæps rəˈsɪpiənt ɪkˈsɛpʃənəli

ˈigər tu ədˈvæns ˈpæsɪŋ ˈgoʊldən
ˈmaɪlˌstoʊn ˈeɪbəl, ˈrɛdi, ænd wɪl lɛn
tu ˈtækəl ˈraɪtɪŋ kəˈrɛkt ˈspɛlɪŋ,
wɛns ˈlɜrnɪŋ tu hoʊld pɛn(cil)
(wɪˈθaʊt ˈbiɪŋ veɪn) bɪˈgɪn mɛn
tɪl ˈprɑˌsɛs, wɪʧ nɛkst stɛp dɛn
əˈlaʊz, ɛˈneɪbəlz ænd prəˈvaɪdz sɛn

sɪt *** hændz ɑn ˈgaɪdəns
ˈhɛlpɪŋ ˈpriˌskulər - ɔl ˈlaɪvən
ænd wɛl wɪð ɪnˈθuziˌæzəm klʌʧ
ˈraɪtɪŋ ˈɪmpləmənt ˈfɪŋgərz ˈoʊpən
bɪˈfɔr ˈʤɛntli ˈgræspɪŋ əˈbʌv rɛn
ˈdʊrɪŋ ˈkudoʊs wɪð ən eɪˈmɛn.
Non-bachelor (batch chiller)
"FAKE" horror thriller
available Netflix starring
ghost of Phyllis Diller
stand up comedienne killer
brought down haunted house
witch sea hunt accompanied

theme song referencing Argonaut tiller
Greenwich Village location Barney Miller
lite precinct brewed fare of corpse
unearthed dead comedy duo Meara and Stiller
with surreal stalking candy corn canes
as bon appétit gnashing
gobbledygook filler.

Ice scream aghast with
blood curdling shriek,
the dearth of satisfactory
FIOS shows bleak
readying jump into polluted creek
thus, I bury alive yours truly
except his sharp pointed beak

exhuming him after rotted
flesh doth reek
perfectly tricked out
for Halloween treat
masks long haired
pencil necked geek
October thirty first when freak

alias Gadshill gadabout
poetaster doth sneak
feigning antonym anthem of meek
oh my dog, I lyft hind
uber leg to take leak
hoop fully haint nobody dares peak
urinate kidding ma bladder weak.

I long since waved
channel surfing adieu
much prefer silence
meditating under blue
skies peering into
infinite space nary a clue
intellectual conversation many disvalue

perched edge of seat and hunched over
how riveting story doth ensue
ah... time for commercial break
culinary wizard abracadabra
whips up fondue
easy as pie (are squared)
with consistency of glue

methinks Elmer stole patent,
cuz secret formula Hebrew
what with identical hue
as aforementioned adhesive liquid
doubling up to keep igloo
air tight even against
global warming, anyway would Jew...

aye betcha already knew
yes believe Yahweh endowed Semites
like me with high ike kue
of course after dumping
a load (reed) I feel sue
per ream intelligence dumbed down
(mine), especially after using loo
naturally decrease smarts

stings like poisonous
scorpion size of Eee moue,
which aforementioned papa's
poetic poppycock nonissue
saturating plethora home entertainment
most people overvalue
linkedin - shoot all stemming from
"idiot box" I rarely view.
and despite remote chance
to channel small medium at large
metamorphosis I may witness
analogous to caterpillar
will transform me into a butterfly
otherwise Norwegian bachelor (batch chiller)
farmer will simply plow along
taking a stab writing "FAKE" horror thriller
airing available on Netflix starring
ghost of Phyllis Diller
stand up comedienne killer
brought down haunted/crowded house

witch sea hunt accompanied
theme song referencing Argonaut tiller
Greenwich Village location Barney Miller
lite precinct brewed fare of corpse
unearthed dead comedy duo Meara and Stiller
with surreal stalking candy corn canes
resilient blades of  rototiller
as bon appétit gnashing
gobbledygook filler
masterpiece yours truly created verisimilar
to literary endeavor of poet laureate.

Ice scream aghast with
hair raising blood curdling shriek,
cuz the dearth of satisfactory
****** FIOS shows bleak
willingly readying doppelganger
of mine to jump into polluted creek,
thus as death defying stunt,
I bury alive yours truly
except his sharp pointed beak
exhuming him after rotted

flesh doth reek
perfectly tricked out
for Halloween treat
masking trademark matted long haired
strongly resembling pencil necked geek
October thirty first when freak
most often makes his appearance
every other time of year
adopting nom de plume
alias Gadshill name of kid sister's

Bend, Oregon abode
(In Shakespeare's Henry IV
the scene of Falstaff's robberies) gadabout
versus me qualified poetaster
hood doth sneak
feigning antonym anthem of meek
oh my dog, I lyft hind
uber leg to take leak
hoop fully haint nobody dares peak
urinate kidding ma bladder weak.

I long since waved
channel surfing adieu
much prefer silence
meditating under blue
skies peering into
infinite space nary a clue
intellectual conversation many disvalue
perched edge of seat and hunched over
how riveting story doth ensue
ah... time for commercial break

culinary wizard abracadabra
whips up fondue
easy as pie (are squared)
with consistency of glue
methinks Elmer stole patent,
cuz secret formula Hebrew
what with identical hue
as aforementioned adhesive liquid
doubling up to keep igloo
air tight even against

global warming, anyway would Jew...
aye betcha already knew
yes believe Yahweh endowed Semites
like me with high ike kue
of course after dumping
a load (reed) I feel sue
per ream intelligence dumbed down
(mine), especially after using loo
naturally decrease smarts
stings like poisonous

scorpion size of Eee mouse,
which aforementioned papa's
poetic poppycock non issue
saturating plethora home entertainment
most people overvalue
linkedin - shoot all stemming from
"idiot box" I rarely view
even when supposed
best picture show over yours truly
silently exhales whew!
i am a poet
who happens to of had a certain op
not a trans poet
i am now my correct gender
therefore
i am a woman
when i introduce myself
i mention no gender
i am simply Jemia
i am a poet
occasional comedienne
and sometimes both
Drab Oct 11
The secret of being an “un”professional comedian, or comedienne.

Is as follows.

1. Take listener(s) on a ride.
2. Pull over.
3. Distract them.
4. Then drop them off.

NOTE – K.I.S.S.

— The End —