"peerless" poems
Sat on a sedan
Spiderman took her hand.
Went down on one knee
And said
Will you marry me?
I cannot face
The rest of eternity
With each generation's
Take on modernity.
It's old fashioned values
I look for and see -
Your confidence,
Common sense,
Your honesty,
Sincerity,
Your quirkiness
And peacableness.
But most of all
Your peerless take on life
Is what does it for me.
Will you be my wife?
Spiderman, Spiderman,
How you do woo!
And you have such qualities
That draw me to you -
Your patience,
Respect,
Your considerable intellect,
Your gentleness,
Strength of mind -
I could go on at length and find
You could be my cobweb?
I could be your fly?
Could you be the man for me
Until the day I die?
What more can I say than
You may have concurred
That I do things my own way.
So can you guess?
Little Miss Muffet Said Yes!
And do you know what?
As they lay there
On that Le Corbusier chair
Without a care in the world -
And you know it's not novel
To be graphic -
They were not afraid at all.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
The Buddha slept under the night sky on His back
eyes open; fearless love looked up. humbling the majesty
of the Void's gift.
eyes fixed... both peerless.
first among equals.
but transcendent.
The Buddha,
wearing grass-stained robes
chose a blank spot
for a blank stare
" Nowhere Girls are EveryWHERE "
He thought, astonished.
a moment after
where once He stood
there Was No
spoon.
[ PART ii ] NOT THE KOAN BUT THE KOAN THAT YOU GOT
on the X-ray zen splints were clearly spidered webs in ghost bone... how should I feel that my sensei saw the X-ray first?
life is where the answer to this question is a real thing draped in ominous clarity like a town fool, the beggar foreclosing
on your house of cards, the winged swine and some guy named Patrick having a smoke in your face; the mailman, who
always looks so serious about your trivia in a blue hat... who always trips over your precious dying very potted plants!
yes, all that, or maybe not. saute some fresh green kale in olive oil with fresh garlic
[ give it to me ] and i'll tell you that was very thoughtful, and right then;
it would also be
true.
for a minute there... you and i were typing you reading this part.
these are the diamonds.
my exposure to the radiation is everlasting in the middle of it's brief long duration
my ghost bones wear new flesh like iPod headphones, don't hate the player
[ better yet ]
make a macaroni necklace. go wild. be reckless.
it'll cost you an ounce of real kimchi
from the motherland
with the ugly
sister.
i wouldn't put it pass you. cause that would be clairvoyance, and you already know!
a loose tooth entrenched in candy apple can't taste your stupidity but has bad dreams!
some people will always look at you the wrong way and appreciate
how you sat perfectly still for hours; you only took a break to suggest
a better room with southern exposure to eastern thought.
when you threw in a Tripod, they knew you were somekinda somethin'.
and they knew it all along
but juuust wasn't
sure.
and kumquats are quantumly eaten.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
1736
Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene
Thou can’st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,
See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!
10.6k
He comes, a moon whose like the sky ne'er saw, awake or dreaming.
Crowned with eternal flame no flood can lay.
Lo, from the flagon of thy love, O Lord, my soul is swimming,
And ruined all my body's house of clay!
When first the Giver of the grape my lonely heart befriended,
Wine fired my ***** and my veins filled up;
But when his image all min eye possessed, a voice descended:
'Well done, O sovereign Wine and peerless Cup!'
Love's mighty arm from roof to base each dark abode is hewing,
Where chinks reluctant catch a golden ray.
My heart, when Love's sea of a sudden burst into its viewing,
Leaped headlong in, with 'Find me now who may!'
As, the sun moving, clouds behind him run,
All hearts attend thee, O Tabriz's Sun!
7.9k
Deep in the valley, a beauty hides:
Serene, peerless, incomparably sweet.
In the still shade of the bamboo thicket
It seems to sigh softly for a lover.
6.9k
Never have I taken love
for granted or in vain.
If some perceive that this I've done
I'm sorry for the pain.
For love, that peerless gift of all
should never be denied.
But understanding's needed
and in hearts it must abide.
Absence makes it greater still
as distance magnifies
The longing harbored by each heart,
though social mores defies.
So cling to love through thick and thin
through unrequited pain.
Reality is just the one
and love of self, the gain.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
She dwells with Beauty--Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
2.5k
The foretold episode is ripe
And the childless dawn is now flowering,
The awesome parrots of Africa
Have began swimming in the heavens
And singing the verses of the paraded bees,
For the warrior of South Africa
Has ultimately impregnated the Godsbaa
Without violating her divine virginity,
The black star arouse from Ghana,
Journeyed gorgeously through Zimbabwe
And has decisively descended on South Africa,
Bu this is just the divine seed
Yet to grow into a full black African moon,
For the black star of the black man
Is the religious light yet to radiate on
The colourless naivete of mankind,
Ah, the premise behind this
Exhibition makes a perfect sense,
We did begin it all,
Pilgrimage through it all
And shall end it all,
For the wreckage of
Humanity flies with time
And the megapower status
Of the African is a fact of life,
Today, a new voice has been
Added to the joy of the black women,
Causing the dry bamboo flutes to buzz
With the pantaloons of the ancestors,
Adorn our emerald embryonic pride with
The ambrosial smiles charms of the sunrise,
For he pelts of the peerless mid-night
Has been remodeled with our dark gore.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
Lizard, peerless strategist,
calculating well, sprung on the spider;
the eight legged acrobat, escaped
sliding down briskly on her web.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:29 AM UTC
I. awoke to crest fallen clouds so heavy with water ,
and wind as wild as what was left in my heart .
Intrepid it was not .
Fearful of God it had become ,
Starved of joy ,
Peace ,
For if a man is left to starve he must go hungry and thirst for food ,
For it is all he can think of .
If a man cannot find water he must thirst .
If a soul finds God and does not find rest in his word ,
and looks for it not ,
Then his fields and trees may wither ,
What was once beautiful become ugly and dry .
I stood on a mountain ,
I stand on a hill ,
With other boys beside me
the Kite master stood still .
With a Kite he stood ,
With grey sky's above ,
and released that Kite to soar above .
Thick dense clouds it soared past thicket , trees and woods .
I watched as the bird flew out of view .
The masters call
, is the faith to know ,
I stood there waiting ...
Once where serindipidy stood ,
Somewhere between luck and chance dance ,
and fortune lights up a toast to all above ,
the Kite turned back ,
Spread its wings for home .
with Faith ,
Hope and love it spread its wings .
It's master called once again
For the flies you swotted when you were young
now reside in peerless sky's ,
in The Concert halls of God
Playing Jesu joy of mans desiring .
on miniature grand pianos ,
In honor of their creator .
So pray ,
and seek ,
For I saw that Kite many hours in flight ,
as the evenings Sun sank ,
and darkened clouds asailed. It not ,
The kite in evening shadow returned ,
And even if all my friends had gone ,
The Kite masters call ,
how long the wait
It's never to late ,
And Christ is Lord of all ,
to the Glory of God the Father .
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
For the first time ever; I truly do not care
if you, him, or her wished me a happy birthday;
But, I wouldn’t mind if you did. Though it is fair;
I am one of the lesser friends; I am a boring play;
A play so fake; I am of made up characters,
Sometimes I am the flattering villain in smiles,
And at times I am a copy of the Westerners,
At others, I am gullible, yet I never am;
I pretend to be; but I am miles away,
For interesting I am not; so funny at least be,
Says my brain; for maybe they will remember,
That my birthday was today; It is an endless plea:
I always remember and prepare pages of wishes,
For almost everyone, but all I get is 4 days late
One liners sent out of guilt; to stop the guilty itches,
Not out of care, love, or from genuine friendly state;
I deserve it; for again; I am merely a boring play;
A paradoxical headache of weird introverts,
And annoying extroverts; I barely even weigh,
To a normal person; I am made of endless alerts;
Alerted, focused, attentive; all on your acceptance;
I am what I feel you want me to be; a nice man,
A racist gangster, a diplomatic figure; I am resemblance,
I resemble everything I see in you and scan;
I am stardust that was never meant to shine,
I am a thread; intertwined as I feel pleases,
I am a road with temporary signs; I am grapes;
For you I squeeze myself into juice; or ferment
Into wine; I am a fake play where you write scripts,
I submit, because all I cared about is receiving,
A birthday wish. On that one day in the entire year;
I do not want even want gifts; because when you don't,
I feel like I am ceasing to exist; slowly deceasing
from everything that we were: teenagers ambitious,
WhatsApp stickers collectors, School runaways,
Kids deceiving; it feels like I am dead; for the dead
Do not receive birthday wishes; I feel peerless;
A white beans *** lidless, a body complete limbless,
A walking sickness, a moving flesh in stillness,
unpardoned by my faux and obvious silliness.
I do not care about not getting birthday wishes;
But I cannot not overthink what it means.
Nov 22, 2023
Nov 22, 2023 at 4:25 PM UTC
All that I am or hope to be I owe to my ANGEL mother…
Born as a child in this world..
But brought up by a divine fairy as if in paradise..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Greeted, loved, blessed, praised n cherished all in one sway..
The blessful hands on my forehead..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Scoffed, scolded, sometimes thrashed but then instantly forgiven..
That love..
I’LL REMEMBER..
The moderating essence of love and care..
Fulfilling all our yearns n neglecting her’s but still always a pretty smile..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Beginning with alphabets, stories, proses and now counseling afflictions of life..
All that persuades..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Your sacrifices, your devotion, your calmness, your essence..
Your love..
I’LL REMEMBER..
I wish every mother was like mines..
So my luck..
I’LL REMEMBER..
In this world everyone can betray but mother being the only exception..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Your divine countenance, your peerless smile, your adoring eyes..
Lovely u..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Love u mumma..
Thanks for giving life to me first and then becoming MINES…
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 7:47 AM UTC
Thou needest not be told that chamber
Labour will sap more energy than office
Work off thee: brawn for brain; --it is
Like climbing Mt. Everest in winter.
Peerless joy thou awaitest at the summit
When you come in thy summery suit.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
When the intelligent design was
sizzling and shining in the soul,
and the rest were still in deep mute
yet one was playing the lute!
Paradise saw me, to her I drew
and tweet “So beautiful are you.”
Pronto, the heaven turned around,
as if the first light after the eternal night
hovers on her lips like she then spoke.
Hissed to me, “without prejudice
am I by design the enduring showpiece.
So ask me what's indeed the beauty is.”
Without blowing a horn or waxing lyrical I say:
Didn’t it blur before you, that a magic snap?
The first reflection of the feminine form
on your golden spiral smoothed out water,
because she breathed on it, on the spot.
Up till now did you view this intact mirror?
Only one drop, keeping tight into the core with
a shadow of the reflection within doled out.
Instantly croons in and danced through every
river across your one hundred layers.
You are still painting on, go on take your time!
Even the atom from the bottom of the black hole
reaches out to the water, the feminine did it first.
Peering through the water’s skin she floats
with the utmost high-surfaced designs into mirror.
Only the primo wonder of the all one peerless God
looks on it, there is no veil except the one is her!
The Uncreated Word, fluid beyond, finest mellifluent
coined the creation, only to loop back to itself far greater.
Therein the root the first (pure light) feminine rose,
for good ever after blossoming flower!
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 10:47 PM UTC
its been four score and more
since the last time i played the cool kid
still on stage i trade the act for a mic
and they called me stupid
this is true ****
can you smell it
im speaking but wont spell it
im hungry this life's a sausage
im eating pass me the relish
elevated like jesus on
the cross you need to feel this
never soft or sweet
i'm like rock salt to teeth
chipping off pieces the size of boulders
catching them on my shoulders
i've got attitude problems, man
i thought they told ya
rebel souljah?
nah i'm the kid in the back of the class
assed out
passed out
the one your girlfriend just asked out
but i just laughed dont worry
homie, i won't touch it
the girls i'm looking for
have something called substance
**** she must have been
someone you trusted
from the look on your face
i can see your searching for an escape
but this ain't the place
unless youre looking for
the eternal sleep inflicted lyrically
i've got the word shaped sheep
to make it deep
if you dont know
i've been dreaming of this
rappin **** for years
eating your tears
drinking your fears
relieving myself in your ears
Brother Ali's been telling me the truth is here
now i feel it in the drum's spirit
with the bass to make it clear
I know that you feel this
cause we come with the realness
we're bleeding the crowd dry
sky high, we're fearless
really we're peerless
cause you're not on our level
we're anywhere from 6-10
steps ahead of you and the devil
you're like the treble, i'm the bass
on ten you're on negative eight
if you look there's no way
to find hate in this place today
im thinking rappers today are too hast
im thinking the stage lights are making me look pasty
despite that we're serving up tracks to call tasty
lace these beats with Rock Co.Kane Flow all day
It's not grace but we play in amazing ways
JUST-STAY-TUNED
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 8:43 AM UTC
I crossed you in a battle
in a distant land ,
in the Rising Sun Country.
I was ordered
in a new Code of Bushido
in a new mission of injustice.
I followed your steps
courageously
with an unconditional willingness.
I heard the lament of my people
whispering with pain
how long will be tormented…..
A Death Fog Veil
covered the human souls
my breath was iced.
A brave fighter
came to me
was the Last Samurai
I have ever seen….
I was dazzled
by his power.
His sword blazed
like a fire,
sharp as a steel.
Master I yelled
show me the way,
to defend my people
to give my life,
if this is written
to my destiny path.
Teach me the Rules.
Teach me the Code of Honor.
To protect the Law.
To respect my Opponents.
Obedience and Discipline
will be my heavy duty.
He embraced me,
with a peerless wisdom
a breezy air,
blew off my lungs
and he told me silently.
The warriors’ road
is long and never ends
Be Brave my Son!
I kept his last words
as a Promise.
©By Mina Boulekou
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
i have survived
storms.
i have survived a father's voice like thunder;
handprint lightning flowers petal over my skin
like i am a garden to sinners-
adam and eve call my grassroots their home and hum lullabies-
i have survived
anger.
pros and cons of
clock-ticking therapy sessions where money is thrown at my gaze,
fixed on the wall,
dollar-a-second drumming fingers
screaming so loud that heaven shuts the blinds and hangs a "closed" sign on the door.
pros and cons of
stumbling home,
under a murky peerless crowd of smoke,
slurring words trail around and behind me like moths to a porchlight.
morning headaches,
angry adults
damaging drywall and breaking family portraits
exhausting search for answers
exhausting search in a silence that lengthens the disconnect from child to mother
where your mind goes red and the honest truth that stays stuck to the roof of your mouth falls out
where you become an overflowing mailbox and your hands shake
the absence of parents who never taught you to hold your tongue
i have survived
hurt.
i have survived the specific type of loss that you feel in the pit of your stomach
the one that lies next to you
when you stare at the ceiling and your face hurts from crying
tears scrub your eyelids raw and you promise,
"if i ever make it through this,
i will never be here again."
i have survived giving up,
taking it all back, throwing it all away,
parallel structures of contemplation and decision
i have survived
lonely.
angry storms of abandonment, melodies of the lonely and the hurt
i reprise to the ones that add injury to insult,
you are not the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
i echo choruses to the people that force me to grow up at sixteen
i have destruction embedded into my neurotransmitters
i have shooting post-traumatic pain in my memories
i have survived
a hell that your hands are not stained enough to touch.
i assure you,
my love,
i will survive
you as well
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
Where contemplation finds her sacred spring,
Where heav’nly music makes the arches ring,
Where virtue reigns unsully’d and divine,
Where wisdom thron’d, and all the graces shine,
There sits thy spouse amidst the radiant throng,
While praise eternal warbles from her tongue;
There choirs angelic shout her welcome round,
With perfect bliss, and peerless glory crown’d.
While thy dear mate, to flesh no more confin’d,
Exults a blest, an heav n-ascended mind,
Say in thy breast shall floods of sorrow rise?
Say shall its torrents overwhelm thine eyes?
Amid the seats of heav’n a place is free,
And angels open their bright ranks for thee;
For thee they wait, and with expectant eye
Thy spouse leans downward from th’ empyreal sky:
“O come away,” her longing spirit cries,
“And share with me the raptures of the skies.
“Our bliss divine to mortals is unknown;
“Immortal life and glory are our own.
“There too may the dear pledges of our love
“Arrive, and taste with us the joys above;
“Attune the harp to more than mortal lays,
“And join with us the tribute of their praise
“To him, who dy’d stern justice to stone,
“And make eternal glory all our own.
“He in his death slew ours, and, as he rose,
“He crush’d the dire dominion of our foes;
“Vain were their hopes to put the God to flight,
“Chain us to hell, and bar the gates of light.”
She spoke, and turn’d from mortal scenes her eyes,
Which beam’d celestial radiance o’er the skies.
Then thou dear man, no more with grief retire,
Let grief no longer damp devotion’s fire,
But rise sublime, to equal bliss aspire,
Thy sighs no more be wafted by the wind,
No more complain, but be to heav’n resign’d
’Twas thine t’ unfold the oracles divine,
To sooth our woes the task was also thine;
Now sorrow is incumbent on thy heart,
Permit the muse a cordial to impart;
Who can to thee their tend’rest aid refuse?
To dry thy tears how longs the heav’nly muse!
1.5k
You’re so wonderful, you make me hate myself.
You’re so delightful, you make me cringe and groan.
You’re so marvelous, you make me furious.
You’re so generous, you make me want to die.
I see your smiling face, and frown.
I hear your kindly voice, and cry.
I touch your perfect skin, and sigh.
I watch your refined mien, and retch.
I think myself a good person,
A Decent, Hard-Working fellow.
But whenever I see you,
I only think of myself akin to a wretched rat.
Fit to fight for bits of trash in a rotten dumpster,
And Nothing more.
Why must you be so excellent?
Why must you be so lovely?
Why must your light shine like diamonds?
Why must my heart be clouded with darkness?
And why must you make me feel so ugly inside?
It’s not your fault, not at all.
But you do this to me, you know.
You tear me to bits, doing nothing at all.
Part of me wishes to love you, head to toe.
The other wants to hate your guts, all and all.
I know not what to do about you.
If there is anything to do.
Should I bare my heart, and tell-all?
Or should I hold it inside, and grin through clenched teeth?
I can’t say.
But I do know this one fact.
You are the essence of peerless perfection, and that is why
I will never be as good as you, no matter how I try.
And so I am left to do little but burn inside your light.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC
It was past 10 pm
Indian Standard Time
And the score was
Two O Five
Klusener was the launcher
Donald was the Duck
Hansie had the fancy
That he will lift the cup
Seconds ticking
One, two, three, four, five…
Damien Fleming’s the bowler
And he’s known as a troller
Windies was the victim
Eight years ago
Steve Waugh!
The man who made Gibbs drop the cup
Stood there
Like a commander
Klusener like a slaughterer
Yorker’s the marker
To stop the nine runs needed
From the Klusener blade
NOW THE LAST OVER
ONE went for a four
TWO went for a four
Tensions flared up
We are on the proverbial Edge-of-the-seat
Steve stood there
No expression on his face
Hansie's in the pavilion
Like a warrior king
THE THIRD BALL
Damien's running like he do
Yes, bang on target
Klusener's couldn't get it off
Like the way in his earlier knocks off
One run needed in three
Just a recap again
Final over
last pair together
nine to get in six *****
player of the tournament on strike
Successive fours from Lance Klusener
and it was one from four *****
Then came the comedy
for South Africa uniquely in the game's annals
the tragedy of a tie.
Moments before it
Steve Waugh was
As cold as an Iceberg
To the Titanic of South Africa
(To be continued in next part)
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC
Not often it is
Easy to erase your memories
Zombies they are... Yes
Attack at weaker
times to make you go into
A cocoon of thoughts
Of your past days
Reeling in nostalgia
It's sad, it's bad. Huh?
*************************
yet our memories
serve as a stark reminder
of the here and now
our minds do strengthen
with the ken we've obtained
through adverse times
whereby we can shape
a fine weather path ahead
for our future days
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
Peerless profundities profusely proffered,
Produce prolapse and propensities pro-fluent,
Presumption presides, practitioners pilfer,
Perception perfunctory, penance penurious.
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 11:10 PM UTC
It is a fearful night; a feeble glare
Streams from the sick moon in the o'erclouded sky;
The ridgy billows, with a mighty cry,
Rush on the foamy beaches wild and bare;
No bark the madness of the waves will dare;
The sailors sleep; the winds are loud and high;
Ah, peerless Laura! for whose love I die,
Who gazes on thy smiles while I despair?
As thus, in bitterness of heart, I cried,
I turned, and saw my Laura, kind and bright,
A messenger of gladness, at my side:
To my poor bark she sprang with footstep light,
And as we furrowed Tago's heaving tide,
I never saw so beautiful a night.
1.3k
Have I lost my way
been tossed astray
depraved and often caught in shame
I am Phi Kenzie
suspend all your envy
I’m plenty unfriendly and tense up when sensing
The touch of another
to shutters and covers
and run for the river, ride rough with the rudder
Flown under the radar
I hoped it would stay dark
but no, it’s the day and it breaks the equator
I could go on about my fears
they won’t disappear
peerless endearment from people jeering for years
Eerie queries in tears
near and dear to mine own ears
rearing iridescent essence empirically in spirit
Hear it speared into the ether
reverberating meter
ceaselessly tinker on the readers need to reach eureka neater
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
*Drive a Porsche Nine- Eleven,
Wear the Gucci Horse-bit gold ?
Take you back to Seventh Heaven ?
Style locked in Gimlet mould.
Oyster Bay’s crisp apple bite
Quaffed in slender crystal flute,
Cartier peeps from the cuff
Of silken shirt in peerless suit.
Bircher bowls of oaten crepes
At Harbour-side in golden dusk,
A prelude to a moonlit cruise
With chiffoned girl in **** musk.
Pink mansion perched at high cliff edge
Standing over Half Moon Bay
Where poker’s stratospheric stakes
Depicts that only Players play.
Cash cascades with no restraint
For gleaming ninety carat stone,
Adorning ladies on your arm
Who just, will not leave you alone.
You wear your Porsche Nine- Eleven,
Drive your Gucci Horse-bit gold,
Wrap yourself in Seventh Heaven....
Consumated Gimlet hold.*
M.
Sky Tower Casino
Auckland
1 November 2014
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC