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"testosterones" poems
The play is written to be staged in a pub or a large cave like yurt in Cardiff.  Its action and dialogue provides characterisation, with sound and lighting being used to establish context.  The setting a darkened pub corner that is  modelled on The Bunch of Grapes in Pontypridd.   There are only 6 characters, five speak in haiku-ed verse with the exception of the Drunk who acts as my 'Greek Chorus'. - Hand-in-hand she enters to **** her thumb in a corner - Chocolate ice cream soda demanded from Daddy - Joking banter ceased slowly as the regulars all begin to quaff their brown pints “Balll uut eass swept - Chimrrrrr, Chiirriica, war is never won” - Church quiet, the village pub listened lips clamped tears swelling “ ***** cut swapped with eyes - Chimerica, Chimerica, war is never won” - The cornered hero of two Afghanistan tours is seen regressing into childhood** The set darkens slowly then after 30 seconds a spotlit conversation in lines and stanzas begins. Haiku and tanka that inspired the coming play include: *********** - thoughts sought, taught and wrought, testosterones Fighting aggressive games, Afghanistan camouflage Globalism and War - cloned greedy conspiracy, that third tower Titled selfish-self-grandiose, deliver warring terror Springs cut Irises - dripping vital red not purple, far from my window* .
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Apr 28, 2010
Apr 28, 2010 at 11:11 AM UTC
dj-thomas
Pub 1st Act - a haibun outline
The play is written to be staged in a pub or a large cave like yurt in Cardiff.  Its action and dialogue provides characterisation, with sound and lighting being used to establish context.  The setting a darkened pub corner that is  modelled on The Bunch of Grapes in Pontypridd.   There are only 6 characters, five speak in haiku-ed verse with the exception of the Drunk who acts as my 'Greek Chorus'. - Hand-in-hand she enters to **** her thumb in a corner - Chocolate ice cream soda demanded from Daddy - Joking banter ceased slowly as the regulars all begin to quaff their brown pints “Balll uut eass swept - Chimrrrrr, Chiirriica, war is never won” - Church quiet, the village pub listened lips clamped tears swelling “ ***** cut swapped with eyes - Chimerica, Chimerica, war is never won” - The cornered hero of two Afghanistan tours is seen regressing into childhood** The set darkens slowly then after 30 seconds a spotlit conversation in lines and stanzas begins. Haiku and tanka that inspired the coming play include: *********** - thoughts sought, taught and wrought, testosterones Fighting aggressive games, Afghanistan camouflage Globalism and War - cloned greedy conspiracy, that third tower Titled selfish-self-grandiose, deliver warring terror Springs cut Irises - dripping vital red not purple, far from my window* .
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She's the girl with the cherry red lipstick, the full ******* and rounded hips. They call her sweet ****** pretty little ****** You'll know when you see her. She'll answer you with, yes sir. But don't look into those lovely eyes; they will hypnotize; entice. And her tongue is sugar coated with sly and tempting lies. They draw you near and nearer every time she licks her lips. She captures the young men's hearts, with her seductive youth. She feeds on their lustful stares; their male hormones, testosterones. Their jealous girlfriends give her the strength to make it through the days; to ignore the painful shame. But every lonely night she cries herself to sleep, and prays to the heavens to retrieve her innocence. They call her sweet ****** pretty little ****** But I know her well as Sorrowful, and pretty with a grieving heart.
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Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
munachi
******
She's the girl with the cherry red lipstick, the full ******* and rounded hips. They call her sweet ****** pretty little ****** You'll know when you see her. She'll answer you with, yes sir. But don't look into those lovely eyes; they will hypnotize; entice. And her tongue is sugar coated with sly and tempting lies. They draw you near and nearer every time she licks her lips. She captures the young men's hearts, with her seductive youth. She feeds on their lustful stares; their male hormones, testosterones. Their jealous girlfriends give her the strength to make it through the days; to ignore the painful shame. But every lonely night she cries herself to sleep, and prays to the heavens to retrieve her innocence. They call her sweet ****** pretty little ****** But I know her well as Sorrowful, and pretty with a grieving heart.
Continue reading...
28