"glitterati" poems
Yes, it's the racing carnival,
Fashionistas so topical,
Significance trivial,
Eye candy,
Drunk and silly,
Studs in suits,
Looking beaut,
Glitterati,
Haves and wannabes,
For the paparazzi,
Doyens of the racing industry,
You all look fabulous,
Gambling magnanimous,
Thoroughbreds' gloss,
Media hype and dross,
Great racing day,
***** bets and babes,
Stuff the plebs today,
Our city's public holiday,
Melbourne Cup Day!
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
Inadequate to the task
Humbled by the enormity of our love,
The perfection of our joining,
Where are the words kept that sufficient
Honor and portray what we have achieved?
You seated, beside me by the bay, finally,
Two old adirondack trees side by side,
By the sheltered place you bequeathed me,
Where poems are raindrops, so numerous,
And you, if not the subject, the source.
The waves rolling in, mirror the
Fluidity of thy dancing,
Fluidity of the adaptation,
Two lives, now one bay blue colored,
The merging, the unification,
Many waves, but one bay,
The Bay of Us.
Yet so different.
We are cloud worshippers,
Does not the Skye's Tableau inconstancy,
Mirror our ever changing form, individuality,
Yet, one sky,
The Sky of Us.
So many times have I lain be-sided
Even as we this afternoon sit now a-sided,
Tears welling up, above and beyond control,
This man's steady nerves, constant on patrol,
Our secret open, visible, un-hided,
Your are my Magi
My Yogi,
i.am, your, obedient devotee, shaped to you please.
This is the birthday present my words present.
Words, unremarkable,
Except for the contentment
That lies within them.
Let me love you more,
Recklessly abandon norms,
Kiss you at the supermarket, at the opera,
Unashamedly, take you in my arms
Wherever wonderment and wandering lead us.
T'is so very hard to compose
When tears flow upon my writing tablet,
To wipe, blot them away, I refuse,
For tears are joyous emblems,
Salty badges of love,
All compliments of our complementary beings,
The Tears of Us.
The soaring music we gather in.
The shimmering sparkles upon the bay,
My gift of natural diamonds better, this day,
Than jeweled glitterati I hide in the refrigerator.
All this treasure, part and sparkle of
The Treasure of Us.
T'is truth,
I know not, forgot, your age nor care,
The day the time the year,
What matter they to me these artifice markers,
I weep carelessly, undone, overcome,
Every day, but this day, most, united joy.
Need-No reminder,
I am a survivor,
From a concentration camp
That slow programmed to destroy,
Perhaps the kindness you claim
As the hallmark of my fame,
An inadvertent gift, from the devil?
You shook my hand on our first meet,
Don't think, have I ever let go?
Let me be your driver, entertainer, your only poet,
Let me be whatever you need,
Even as now, I laugh-cry, your tissue carrier.
For t'is I who weeps and keeps
These tissues as part of our history.
You are the first,
Who has ever read
The Words of Us.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
Glitterati Gangsters gaze
with commanding stares
and broken plates glass blown and open gates
There she sits eyes
all holding
all knowing
synchronicities shatter the scene
Sparkling
each blink initiates a flood of flaming diamonds
that lash out like hot irons
Eyes like this entice and take
Each blink unlocks a new mystery
as she grinds resistance in her teeth
Igniting my lust
Sparkling
each blink creates a dawning sun
Her gaze inflames ten thousand ways
She wields sparkle
like madmen spray sarin
With sparkling abandon
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
Hollywood is not happy any more
A thousand nights of sequins and *****
Collecting beneath her skirts like love letters
Plastered with admiration and cheap perfume
Blowing into breezy corners as she twists and turns
Escape attempt
Razor glitterati teeth biting at the media's ankles
GET OUT OF HERE!!!
They never listen
Watching, waiting with flash bulbs and endless ink wells
This will all be over soon
Lit match in her justice hands of frigid midnight
Sins of sulfur and *** saturate
She will burn you all down
Wooden hearts and cork board shoes
Hollow
All to ash before the dawn gives birth
In the aftermath she sheds sooty skin
City once again clean
that is
Until the next ultra gaudy fad comes to town
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
Glitterati
You,
You ***** me.
I,
I survived it.
Percussions you will feel,
Of Hiroshima- Nagasaki attack.
In clumps of what you shall say,
Sandy storm, Tsunami Zatak.
So please, hey please,
let me rip-rape you this time,
with poverty, global warming and famine
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC
walked upon your avenue 'bout a thousand times before
ironically, wasn't looking for a score
only had a pen as my sword
it's a shame
but good to know, some things remain the same
don't know what sounds were ringing in my ears then
but the beers and the tears made me a brave ten
guess I didn't feel enslaved then
guess I knew when turn the page when
someone enters your life's story
and you think you're better, cause everything seems boring
when you got neil or tori spitting wisdom in your lobes
and the poor **** is jammin' to that gangster **** that runs the globe
illuminati, glitterati, they don't want your body
it's just an echo of nevermore
used to know a girl named Lenore
until the birds poured into her head
stolen first were the memories and things unsaid
next came the dreams from a solitary bed
might as well have been in the middle of the ocean
I don't pretend to know your pain
or what it's like to lose or gain
I only know that I can conceive the notion
of waves crashing, so soothing, so earth-shattering
the infernal pressure felt from above while you're barely floating
and God seems to be gloating, like he created something in his image
so hold on, no matter how sinister
and of course, they all tell you it's in your mind
it's the devil doing paint by numbers in disguise
it's a gift-wrapped present with nothing inside but lead
but you know that crazy is just a term for the clock in your head
so you listen to his rhymes that flow, so lightly but so heavily
that they become your desire
so you use your last match to blow your best smoke ring
and never notice that the bed's on fire
and now you're back walking on the avenue
it took quite a few spins of that **** for you to get the gist
cause even the sages wouldn't know what side to be on
when it's you against the world, outsider vs insider, and on and on
it goes, so you rub elbows with a stranger
next move could be heaven or be danger
but this is your least favorite life
so you say **** it, hello, my name is, welcome to the show
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
Dictionary in hand Bobbies
manned state of the spy craft created
strategic peripheral outposts
a comma dated,
(sans syntax garnered monies) equated
justifiable to build galley ma free
Highland Manor wing - feted
via "FAKE" glitterati
creating surreptitious hated
surveillance monitor ring, which insulated
decked out starry eyed Starship
Enterprise surprise rated,
as an unbelievable well Spock kin
Duplicated Star Trek venerated
popular culture science fiction set piece,
where elderly residents waited
this other worldly architectural phenomenon
didst immediately outshine by alight
year among the original seven wonders
of the world prominant
as a buck toothed over bite
yet, didst camouflage top secret AngloSaxon
incognito missionaries delight
upholding correct language usage,
Thence trumpeting amidst
nonchalant onlookers as excite
mint hinted grammarians with listening devices
some flying unseen
as period size drones taking flight
other more sophisticated
electronic accouterments
dolled, gussied, issued with apostrophe
shaped flower buds scaling height
of cerulean sky, where blinding light
of a solar ellipsis, thus
arousing no discovered night
gallery suspicion during
feted occasion rife with polite
"FAKE" markedly questionable legatees quite
suitable asper The Art Of The Deal during
ribbon cutting ceremony,
and after words right
ting up citations slyly
slipped under windshield wipers
as the madding massed crowdsource,
would take dispersed out of sight
nonetheless echoes plenti chutzpah left
English figures of speech
uttering unstinting (quote unquote)
premature ejaculations,
eh so blandly trite
non-sequitur visited
by thee epic of Gilgamesh
for a dangling participle
during the split infinitive Sumer season
(exclamation point) no more to write!
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
With their store-bought *****
And Botoxed faces
With Gucci bags and corset laces
They smiled on us like we were Rubes
Who didn’t know the stuff they learned
From whispers at the Polo Bar,
And how some gal became a star
Rewarded for the tricks she turned.
To them class is designer’s names
On things worth less than half their price
They always seek the biggest slice
Of that big pizza known as fame.
They’re always at the big events
When there are cameras around.
If there are headlines to be found.
Their statements seldom make much sense.
I wouldn’t want to be like them
Living such a plastic life
Longing for the surgeons knife
To give them beauty on a whim
I’ll go on my Rube-like way
Without the glitter and the glam
I’ll just stay the way I am
And live a happy, useful day.
ljm
May 17, 2023
May 17, 2023 at 11:18 AM UTC