"paree" poems
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze
A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze,
Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard *****
And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls.
Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast
Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast
From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin
Gay Paree to London town then way out east again,
Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all
And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall.
Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue
Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through
An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past
And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast.
Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash
Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash
In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies
Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies.
Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years
Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears.
A sudden realisation of immensity of loss
Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across
The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply
And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky.
Global collapse of all electronic gear
No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years.
Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that
And the day is as dark as the cold night is black.
And here all we sit, in the here and the now
On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower,
With a fools pudgy finger just inches above
The nuclear button…and all that we love.
……You fear the insanity, sense the insane
Knowing that people like this are holding the reign?
Knowing that volatility strikes
Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife.
I don’t have the answers to hand
But someone out there, knows how…and can.
The sands of time are running thin
URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN!
M.
Planet Earth
6 March 2019
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 12:46 AM UTC
Midnight in Paris
oui, oui Missour, excusez-moi s'il vous plaît,
may I take your bags, welcome to the Ritz
I am most sure, you will enjoy your stay
Paris is most happy, to see you Mr. Fitz
Paris in the spring is such a lovely sight
the flowers all in bloom, the skyline at night
bright sun shinning now, maybe an afternoon shower
plan your day well before you ride up in the tower
strolling past the cathedral of Notre Dame
thinking of the bell ringer the old hunchback
like the Philadelphia liberty, the bell has a crack
the storming of the Bastille, to relieve the shame
to the Louvre for the most exquisite art
Rembrandt and DaVinci at their best
so many things to see this is just the start
to see it all would be a fantastic quest
time for a ride down the Seine river
astonishing sights this old city can deliver
a bottle of nice Vouvray to enhance the ride
a lovely local woman right by your side
now you might ask her if she likes to dance
for the clubs in Paree are oh so fine
club Lido also a great place to dine
a wonderful time, Midnight in Paris, France
Gomer LePoet
Sep 1, 2011
Sep 1, 2011 at 2:29 PM UTC
People often say now I understand
When they hear that I'm from Paree
Not Gay Paree silly, but redneck
In the heart of Tennessee
I am the newest style of hairdressers
Here to lay out all the facts
I no longer work on the tops of heads
But straight out of the pits
It all happened when I got bored
With the every day to day
Trimming of the head left me feeling dead
That's when it hit me..."Underarm Braid"
That right there was my life saver
That right there was my turn around
If it didn't make me world famous
At least it did on this side of town
Now people come from as far as Nashville
To have their underarms done
I even gave a left and right pit Mohawk
To the Governor's daughter and son
What? Did you think I only braided?
There's so much more that I can do
Just ask the Punk Rock Chick's that wait in line
To have their armpits colored blue
My older clientele have let there hair grow out
Since it is they learned
I'm now specializing in for both women and men
Their favorite sets and perms
So feel the freedom of the pits
That hippie chicks have long since known
Here at Michael's Salon Of Pits
We'll do something special with that growth
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 8:42 AM UTC
Minuit à Paris
oui, oui Missour, excusez-moi s'il vous plaît,
peux je prendre vos sacs, être bienvenu au Ritz
Je suis plus sûr, vous apprécierez votre séjour
Paris est le plus heureux, vous voir M. Fitz
Paris au printemps est une si jolie vue
les fleurs tous dans l'éclat, l'horizon la nuit
le soleil brillant shinning maintenant, peut-être une ****** d'après-midi
planifiez votre jour bien avant vous le trajet en haut dans la tour
le fait de promener devant le cathederal de Dame Notre
le fait de penser au carillonneur le vieux bossu
comme la liberté de Philadelphie, la cloche a un craquement
le fait de prendre d'assaut du Bastille, pour soulager la honte
au Louvre pour la plupart d'art exqusite
Rembrandt et DaVinci à leur meilleur
tant de choses à voir c'est juste le début
voir tout cela serait une quête fantastique
le temps pour un trajet en bas le fleuve de Seine
les vues étonnantes cette vieille ville peuvent livrer
une bouteille de Vouvray agréable pour améliorer le trajet
une jolie femme locale directement par votre côté
maintenant vous pourriez lui demander si elle aime danser
car les clubs dans Paree sont oh si parfaits
le club la Plage aussi un grand endroit pour dîner
un temps magnifique, le Minuit à Paris, France
Gomer LePoet
Sep 1, 2011
Sep 1, 2011 at 2:30 PM UTC
Her name was Nanette -
A student from France
Who wore red blouses
And **** red pants
She wanted to check out
The U.S. of A.
So a couple with twins
Hired her right away
The twins had their own
Ideas for fun
They loved Disney World
Their place in the sun
They frolicked on rides,
Ate hot dogs galore,
Loved parades, Mickey Mouse,
Fireworks, and more
But Nanette's heart wasn't in it
The job was no fun
She had no real interest
In tending to the young
Nothing could cheer up
This nanny from Paree
She'd rather read tabloids
Than watch twins under three
She clearly preferred
The company of guys
With muscles, tattoos,
And Jello shots on the side
The guys were bad boys
Completely entranced
By the Parisian charmer
And her flair for romance
But the parents were upset
With her profligate passion
They decided to dismiss her
In a daring fashion
They took her to the
Tower of Terror one day
And left her shrieking
As they ran away
And that was the last time
They ever caught sight
Of that naughty Nanette
From the City of Light
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
1.
thar once was a big tree
grew high in the middle of the field
it sheltered from rain; became fine-home to blue-birds
till the cutting-folk came and slew it.. down.
2.
enver was a man who had great luck at the table
this gent won a ton of coins hands-down
which attracted the rabble from all round
so this pore-man from denver lost it once again..
3.
gently rowing splendid
along the fyne shore
to reach
make sure ye have two oars!
4.
peter was a pyper, had a girl named jessie
hardly went to market
when the livestock all got tired
he played a tune, all lively-like.. they all got up to dance!
5.
jolly molly had a dolly, that she called polly
they went by train to Swiss-towne, Bern
to order two cups of strawb-lolly
but once there, they broke stride and ordered two hot-chox.
6.
there once lived a physicist who brought earth-pendulum to life
Léon Foucault was he named and born unto this day
born in 1819 in gay-Paree and died in 1868
he set about wide-views of rotation right upon its head!
S T - 18 septemba
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 1:59 AM UTC
It's not the docile who are the most peaceful
It's not the quiet who make the best mothers
And it's not the pilgrims who make the finest believers
For, the blade is not the only part of the sword
Only part of the sword, ooh hoo....
It's not the poets who pose the deepest questions
It's not the enemy that you have to fear
And it's not enough people who live in cleanest conscience
For, the string is not the only part of guitar.
Only part of guitar, ooh hoo....
Refrain:
Beware even the blunt side of the sword
Beware even the blunt side of the sword!
Oh, you know, the blade is not the only part of the sword.
Only part of the sword, ooh hoo....
It's not the animals who are the uncivilised ones
And it's not in the light that you get to know yourself
And it's not up to you to decide the life that I live
For the heart is not the only part of me.
Only part of me......
It's not the well-spoken who speak the most wise words
It's not the sufferers alone who feel the pain and anguish
And it's not the have-it-alls who really have it all
And the Eiffel Tower's not the only thing in Paree.
Only thing in Paree.....
And you know, the blade is not the only part of the sword....
Oh, you know, the blade is not the only part of the sword.
Star Toucher, Feb 2013
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
sitting by the window.
with the sounds of some nondescript
parisian accordion sounding
bourgeoisie muzak playing overhead.
all the while I write poetry in a coffee shop.
*******
this may be the trite-est of ironies
any explanation would not be weight bearing
for this ridiculous setting.
only suitable for student films,
with a beret on top.
who by no fault of their own
originate in new york
by way of black and white paree.
cigarettes and drowsy violins,
odd bedfellows and conjoined twins.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
(The Greater Prairie Chicken: a grouse of open grassland, is known for its mating dance. Males display together in a communal lek, where they raise ear-like feathers above their heads, inflate orange sacs on the sides of their throats, and stutter-step around while making a deep hooting moan.)
So how you gonna keep ‘em
Down on the farm after they’d seen Paree?
After “displaying together” in
Their own private lek--
Communal though it was.
It’s May in Hemetucky.
I just got back from my
Twilight constitutional,
As Truman called it.
Harry—since I was born in 1949—
Tribute for my first Commander-in-Chief.
The moon was misted,
More than half full,
Myself half in the bag,
As they say.
As you know by know,
I live in one of those gated,
Golf-coursed, over-55
Lunatic Asylums,
A communal lek, as they say.
I’m stutter schlepping around the block
In my pajamas remembering that big sign,
So full of promise--ACTIVE SENIORS—
A veritable sexually promiscuous
Welcome Mat.
I made an assumption, you see,
That children of the 60s grown old
Would relish a life of legal **** in a
Gated sanctuary with hours upon hours of
“Let’s Hide the Pepperoni.”
I knew I missed those years,
That era of bra-burning &
Birth Control.
“Girls Gone Wild,”
Wonton ******* & *******
A bowl of Won-Ton carnality:
Wild abandon, mature ladies,
Their ******* in a ***
At the bottom of their purse,
(Thank you, Joan Osborne)
Joan Osborne - Right Hand Man Lyrics | MetroLyrics
http://www.metrolyrics.com/right-hand-man-lyrics-joan-osborne.htmlLyrics to 'Right Hand Man' by Joan Osborne. Let me use your toothbrush / Have you got a clean shirt? / My ******* in a *** /at the bottom of my purse / I walk. (www.advertise/right-in-the-middle-of-fucking-poem.com)
Yet, I languish here
Here in the now,
Having shown my cards too often.
After 10 years here no woman
Takes me seriously,
Given my unserious reputation,
Not to be taken seriously.
Which explains why I spend
So much of my time in Italy
Lately.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC
December is harsh,
Winter seeps through the pavement
And we mourn the tree’s loss.
How can I behave when I do not
Know the culture?
You pass the bread back and forth
And I do not know why.
Will you speak to me, Monsieur?
Speak to me with meaning in your eyes
So that I might understand.
Chestnuts roast, a smell so warm and kind,
We pass the stall but do not turn to look.
Paree, Paree, what did you do to me?
Oh darling! What did you do?
The sky is weeping,
His tears rolling down windowpanes
As he sobs into the shoulders of the Gare du Nord.
Winter has come and he knows it as much as I.
I went to see the girl who stares,
I stared back and sought comfort in her gaze.
Strange, how a place can make you feel so alone.
Don’t you agree? Show me if you agree.
In this town of fifty million Frenchmen
Cold creeps into my bones.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Keep the lid on the coffin tight
Gay Paree on a hot Summers night
Plans are laid, secrets kept
Mr. Mojo whispering
Call the witness to the stand
The only one left is Pam
Took the secret to the grave
Mr. Mojo whispering
Count out loud now 1, 2, 3
Janice Joplin and 2 Jimmy's
Pay the price to the Bar Keep
Mr. Mojo whispering
The pain he felt, could not accept
Mojo Rising has up and left
Final countdown, Jimmy's free
Mr. Mojo whispering
Learned to rhyme the darkened times
All of it inside his mind
Lived and died his poetry
Mr. Mojo whispering
Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 7:43 AM UTC
Golden Bears & those Delawares,
Gay Paree was in the mix.
Now it's those hamsters...
**** it,
three kisses.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:29 AM UTC
Imagine just how life might be
Without the old apostrophe
That humble punctuator we
Should deem to not be necess’ry
Of course, in all sincerity
We’d go on with what’s custom’ry
Just using them, so flippantly
From ** Chi Minh to gay Paree
A punctuation KGB
Would roam the streets incessantly
And persecute those, foolishly
Who slip one in ’twixt N and T
For every single time that we
Should use that little stroke, you see
Shall cost us, it will not be free
We’ll pay a high apostrofee
As months do pass, eventually
The use of an apostrophe
Becomes rare as a butterflee
Forgotten most entirely
With passing years, we’d eagerly
Write words in their entirety
Remarking, “is it not so twee
That words are not perfunctory?”
Our compromised efficiency
Would bother neither you nor me
And so arrives the time that we
Will make the world apostrofree.
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 10:23 AM UTC
Stump Junction...
“How Ya Gonna Keep 'em Down on the Farm
(After They've Seen Paree)?”
-a song of the First World War
Speak not to us of Paris by moonlight -
How are they gonna keep us down on the Seine
When we have seen the gaiety of Stump Junction
By the romantic glow of sweet mary jane
The twinkle of gunfire from a .22
As Cousin Eloise potted beer bottles
While her new guy Kolby took a long ////
On her old guy Shane-Boy’s low-rider rims
The county mounties busted up the fight -
Speak not to us of Paris by moonlight
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
sunset
in
gay paree
pavane
sky
ask for
a glass of
sherry wine
cheese
and
french bread
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC