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The fire began in the cobbler’s shop
In a terrace of shops that day,
And spread right through to the milliners
That was owned by Mrs. Gray,
It leapt up into the rooftop beams
And galloped along the street,
Burning a swathe through the fodder stores
And the blacksmith, Simon Fleet.

The smoke rose into an Autumn sky
And blackened the old clock tower,
It didn’t pause, it was far too dry
For even an Autumn shower,
And Simon said, as the embers fell
To the household servant, Gert,
‘The courtyard’s starting to look like hell,
Get out of that silken skirt.’

He hadn’t looked twice at Gert before
And she was so awful shy,
While he was never the greatest catch
With his horseshoe-looking eye,
But once he saw that the embers fell
He was more than kept alert,
He knew the fabric would burn like hell,
The silk in the servant’s skirt.

She’d bought the skirt, it was second-hand
From a Drapers along the street,
It felt so silky and smooth, she’d said
From her waist down to her feet,
She liked the line of the skirt, the lads
Would see her pass, and stare,
So like the ladies she aped, she swore
To wear no underwear.

So Gert had blushed as she heard the words
Of the Blacksmith, Simon Fleet,
She wasn’t going to show her legs
To Simon, out in the street,
The skirt went up with a sudden roar
And he heard her pitiful cries,
So trying his best to douse the flames
He wrapped canvas round her thighs.

The blaze was stopped by the corner shop
Where the fire engine stayed,
And kept from running its rampant course
Along the Grand Parade,
But Simon said it was Gertie’s legs
That had failed her, in her pride,
But caught his eye with a tender sigh
As they fed the fire inside.

Whenever they speak of the shopfront fire
It’s as if it paved the way,
The two have said, to the day they wed
And their happiness today,
For Gertie doesn’t have charming looks
And he’s ugly too, says Gert,
But Simon says it’s a treat, that heat,
Under a silken skirt.

David Lewis Paget
Sie Feb 2016
I realize that it wasn't worth it.
I have him ******* everything.
All he did was take .
Take and take and take.
He took my heart my virginiy and my pride.
Until I was no more
Then he ****** me up.
The only thing he ever gave me
Drugs all kinds
******* acid marijuana
Until I was hooked
Hooked up on him
Hooked up on drugs
Until I realized he wasn't good
I got away
Yet I stand here today
Wondering
Was he the only one who actually cared
Wondering
Why do I still care
Gert him out of my head
Before I realize
There is nothing left of me
If you ever read this I hope I hurt you as much as you hurt me with the games and the addictions.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2021
Finding seed in fibers needed for the humming bird robe.
Thread twisted so,
fine fine fine,
sof-ein
my point in the twisting tale

The book my culture arose from
knowing any rose is a rose.
thank you, Gert,

this book, the book, our culture- global
post
the elec'ric link to steam and steel
and cotton picking
through
assembly line guns, before automobiles, by Ford.

Yes, as an aside, who saw
- pause the prosody, break the lines
- goto .7 speed
- or bullet speed if you know the idea
As handspinners, we indulge our senses with each new yarn that is spun.

From <https://spinoffmagazine.com/a-practical-guide-to-ginning-cotton-by-hand/>

As handspinners,
we indulge our senses
with each new yarn that is spun.
We are entranced and soothed
as our eyes watch the twist travel through the fiber.
We fluff, stretch,
and tug it into every possible yarn configuration
and enjoy that therapeutic zen
that comes with it.
Ginning your own cotton by hand
adds another layer
of bliss
to the spinning experience.

At a glance,
we just pluck seeds
from a nest
of fiber.
You’ll want
to work methodically
in order
to save time and leave your fiber
as lofty
as possible after ginning.
Understanding how the seeds are organized
within a cotton boll and using the best technique
for the variety
of cotton that you have makes the handginning process go much easier.
A link back to an imagine robe formed from 13,392,578 humming bird heads, I assume the hearts from those heads fed priestly beings in some rite of passage.
Wk kortas Apr 2017
Oh, we’d talked of other lives in other places,
But where would we have gone, anyway?
(It was rural Pennsylvania in the thirties,
And being well-off meant you ate three times most days
And could afford meat every other Sunday)
So we carried on in anguish and guilt as old-maids-in-waiting
As there were dinners to cook and cows to strip out,
Fireplaces to stoke, any number of chores to do
While our mothers and fathers waited patiently for that day
When we would, each in our turn, don a grandmother’s wedding gown
And march steadfastly down some acceptably Protestant aisle
While Gert Bauer, default church organist
Though she was past eighty and nearly blind,
Tortured the wedding march, flubbing notes and stomping pedals
The tune lurching forward at an inconsistent
And unusually adagio fashion.

As it turns out, Tojo and Adolph Schicklgruber
Interceded on our behalf,
For, as the young and able-bodied men of Elk County went off to serve
(Farm boys from Wilcox and Kersey, pool sharps from Ridgway,
Fully half the production line from the paper mill in Johnsonburg)
Someone needed to man punch presses and die casters,
So we were able to find work making propellers
In a windowless and airless factory
Which didn’t have women’s rooms
Until we’d been there for three months
Allowing us to set up house together
(We told our parents
It would allow us to save up toward our weddings,
And still let us give them grocery money each couple of weeks.)
Eventually, Johnny came marching home again
And back into his old job,
Which left us somewhat at sixes and sevens,
But, like Blanche DuBois,
We came to depend on the kindness of strangers
Who believed in the value
Of strong backs or the primacy of civil service scores
And so with our steady if unspectacular incomes,
We were able to carry on keeping house, as it was said,
(Our parents sadly unpacking hope chests.
Sullenly gifting us the linens
They’d purchased for our marital bed at Larson’s,
The hand-made quilt stitched and fussed over
For nine months by Aunt Jenny)
And maintain an uneasy truce with the good people of the town;
Indeed, we were all about “don’t ask, don’t tell”
Long before it was somewhat fashionable.

When it became apparent that she would not carry on much longer,
Or, as she put it, Now I’ve got an expiration date,
Just like a can of soup,

It was as if the populace had decided, after some sixty years,
To take their revenge upon our ******* of the natural order,
As if they were a pack of wolves,
Having identified the lame and the sick among a herd of whitetail,
Tightening the circle before moving in for the ****.  
In truth, I shouldn’t have been surprised,
But the pettiness and the tight, self-satisfied smirks
Were no less painful in spite of that.
And what was your relationship to the deceased?
They would say with their half-knowing, half-offended smiles.
I’d wanted to shout at the top of my lungs that for fully six decades
She had been the love of my life,
Without question and without deviation,
Not like the banker who dallied with his fat secretary,
Or the claims rep who, taking a personal day when her pipes froze up,
******* the plumber right on the kitchen floor,
But years of secrecy and compromise exact a toll,
So I simply, quietly, matter-of-factly would reply
I am the executrix, thank you.

We had talked of perhaps heading west
To make honest women out of each other,
And, later still, of burying her in Paris or San Francisco,
But tight times and walkers and wheelchairs
Made such plans unworkable;
It’s only parchment and granite, she said,
What do they mean at the end of the day, anyhow,
And so when the time came
She asked me to take her ashes up to the top of Bootjack Hill
And scatter her to the wind.
Make sure to go all the way to the top, she insisted,
*I want to get good and clear of this place.
KV Srikanth May 2021
Dr No the first entry
Showcased the talent of Sean Connery
Brilliant score by John Barry
Ursula Andress the first Bond Girl
Set the standards for those who coveted the role
Joseph Wiseman the title character
A legend from the New York theater
Unforgettable introduction scene at the casino
The title score would become the theme music
Never dated even today pure magic
Dr No recieved a yes from the audience

From Russia with love
People went to the cinemas like droves
Great villain in Robert Shaw
Remains one of the best performances in the series so far
Daniela Bianchi runner up in the Miss Universe contest
Followed Ursula in here hp footsteps and stood the test
Train journey from Istanbul to Belgrade
Remains in your memory forever
Title song by Matt Munroe
Melodious and fills your heart to the Core

Goldfinger the franchise became better
Gert Forbe a German actor
Portrayed the title character
Buying Gold and Destroying the world
Twin objectives planned by having Fort Knox bombed
Sean Connery drives the Aston Martin DB 5
Revolving number plates
And ejector seat designed
Honor Blackman as ** Galore
Glamour delivered more
Pilot in Goldfinger's fleet
Unaware of his sinister deeds
Joins forces with Connery
Everything ends happily
Title song by Shirley Bassy singing to the tunes of John Barry

Thunderball beat them all
In box office ticket sale
The gun barrel sequence
For the first time
Performed by Sean Connery himself
Loss of two nuclear warheads
Masterminded by Blofeld
Claudine Auger as Domino
More than just a cameo
Scenes shot underwater Technology testing new waters
Filmed in Nassau
Amongst other stunning locales
Sean Connery is Vintage
Adolfo Celi
Tested to replace Connery
Cast as Emile Largo
Gave the role a go


You only live twice
Heard it in Nancy Sinatras voice
Set in the far east
Found villains in the Japanese
Sean Connery thought this would suffice
Wanted to give up tole after five
Top actress of Japanese cinemas golden age
Akiko Wakabayashi
Got the chance to play
The role of the Bond Girl
A rare choice in Roald Dahl
As writer for this adventure
Cold war theme with Donald Pleasance playing Blofeld
Superpowers missiles gone missing
With both sides blaming
And Sean Connery saving

Diamonds are Forever
Brought back Sean Connery after a near disaster
Unheard of salary paid
To the Scottish National party donated
Jill St John joined hands
The thriller filmed in Vegas
Blofeld killed by Bond
Resurfaces after the misleading con
Diamonds smuggled
Not resurfaced
Found by Bond a plot
Involving Blofeld and weapon in space
Shirley Bassey renders the song With an original score by John Barry
Sean Connery final official outing as James Bond
A great swan song
Aditya Roy Sep 2019
Silent screams and rages
verse dreams and sarcastic sages
The row believes in the youth of middle aged men
All belittle the your heart when hoping your pang fear
And spring into delirium, and bright gold
Bright light makes heat light asking for you to kneel
In red and leaves of gold, I ask for company
In dead cyka soldiers, the dead of the night
Brings out the company, where you might want a piano key
Loosened, and a guitar string, tuned and pulled

Silent svelte girls all are on the shore
As you she shifts she hasselblad fought him ****
Tea, as the ballad of the hounddog
Go the round midnight, call me after life
GO here, and come back by her fingers girls
In her life, is white, there is blyke
Everyone has a Jekkyl Hyyde
She doesnt know who he she means
After the shindig of time, singing life
Keep it in her, she rights the wall, and rides the fences
She rides the friendly horses, I know you before friends have ***
Feel my living, light my love with food of life
Make me right wrong is the rife
Kaddish sits on the wrong her
Reflection of lapas lazuli and Meer
Urst auf von bon, werst worde gert
Someone took the art killed it with joy
Someone lifted her with the ploy
**** and feet tastes summer and winter tastes like sum
Feets and passerby, touch my *** please master
grace my pallor with your heat, and gush in the blood of the great hand
Slow dots and polka dance that enrichen the glib gleam of Arriana
If friends were enemies and enemies were friends, and friends were summers
The winters would leave with the lush green forests that smell grape and touch my dots and follow my valley
On a figged donkey sorry masturbator
I want you to ride the wind, with gully
I want you rise with the wind, and touch my langstromme with lakes of stowaways
I want you to leave with the wind I feel the wish that touches your heart
I want yin and yang, not love
I want your balance, and not your senses

The end is the beginning when the fire comes out of the blessed wind
The end is near, the tin can man fires the black and blue
The middleman has her hips in the red roses and the masks, and so Im here to **** you
In my whips and my black college wants your education
Education is near, and you are far and tresses of your hair
Egregious error, was to frame you and keep you in my heart
When I couldn't see the picture
Innocence is a true picture
I want you, I want you love me
I want gush virgins and rush astral stars that hearts cant keep
I want the rushed visions that allotropes the love keeps me lively
Me and Ann lively
Zainab Mar 2019
Your dark lies
or your brown eyes
Your love sacrifice
or your hate jeopardize
Your hurt divine
Or your gert whine
Darling, it's all what I want, it's all what I need.
~Zee.ytee
impossible mission of mine to bare witness
whereby mine (***** rubble) puny *******
describes a bent shaft, particularly when cap
locks on first observed by the missus when
we consummated *******, though nicht
married, cuz the rutting urge overtook both
of us 24/7, 365 days year not omitting the
leap day, which arose because planet Earth
doth circle around the sun within 365 days,
5 hours 48 minutes and forty six seconds
to orbit the nearest star, according to NASA,
and while that calculation (rounded down
established by Nicolaus Copernicus in the
16th century, when he proposed heliocentric
model - quite controversial to the church ladies -
upending geocentric theory placing the Sun
at the center of the solar system, with Earth
orbiting around it; his theory was detailed
in his book "De Revolutionibus Orbium
Coelestium" published in 1543) to three
hundred and sixty five days, we - twenty
first century **** sapiens, recognize as
a typical year, those nearly 6 extra hours
do not conveniently disappear bitta bing
bitta bitta bang: I recognize omission of
most chitty word choice, but latched on
to a song which shares the same name
as the movie, a 1968 children's musical
adventure film directed by Ken Hughes
and produced by Albert R. Broccoli (not
necessarily the guy kids wanna blame for
their favorite vegetable) starring **** Van
****, Sally Ann Howes, Lionel Jeffries,
Gert Fröbe, Anna Quayle, Benny Hill,
James Robertson Justice, Robert Helpmann,
Heather Ripley and Adrian Hall driving the
innovative idea (credited to Julius Caesar,
who introduced it as part of Julian calendar,
adding another extra day every four years
to more accurately align the calendar after
segueing into the Gregorian calendar, a solar
calendar used in most parts of the world today
based on the Earth's revolution around the sun
and named after Pope Gregory XIII introduced
in 1582) with the solar year; essentially
making him the "inventor" of the leap year
added to account for the difference.

— The End —