Poet's Corner

[Impenitent]

"Reviled Thing"

Workin all week 10 to 3 for my money
Found a company in KC ripe to pick an slick as honey
A sucka like that really gets my blood aflowin'
Get my gear, call my crew, an get this baby rollin'

Introduce myself as Mitt and I'm on fire
They said, you got the juice, maybe you a liar?
Let's not make this hostile,got no time to beguile
Put yo money in this bag, I'm off to the Cayman Isle

Reviled thing
Reviled thing

I ain't here to pitch a tent, I here to steel
Had to adjust my wallet cause my eye beam so unreal
Shit eatin' grin cause I didn't screw the pooch
Took they pensions and turned em out to mooch

Reviled thing
I love to do the reviled thing

Gonna slide on in KYB Toys
Lotsa do-ray-me fo me an my boys
I do the pump an dump, that bankruptcy court my chump
I don't wanna make no toys, that ain't how i get my rocks
I'm only laughin' when my boys are slappin' a deposit box

Reviled thing
Reviled thing

I tear it up tonight when I put my putter inner Caddy
We stashed the loot in the golf bag when up walked my Daddy
What was in his head, he caught me red, I didn't know what to say
I guess he'd make me confess, repent an then repay

Reviled thing
Reviled thing

"Son, it doesn't matter who you scew
As long as to your tribe you stay true
You're the son of boss and as the prophecy described one day you'll be King
And I was once young like you and loved to do the reviled thing"

Reviled thing
He loved to do the reviled thing

My homey Milken hit some trouble when his junk didn't bond
I cooled it too, got a different view way out on that salt pond
Run a local scam, kickbacks were good to go
Shoulda heard em holla, but I got my dolla, when I made it snow

Cleaned up my act, buried some fact
but they still call me liar
Can't find a thing, a perfect sting
Now I'm a country squire
I ran a state, then erased the tapes
Can't prove my gangstery
And that tax I evade, on the money I made
I covered by amnesty

Reviled thing
I got away with the reviled thing

 

[Impenitent]

" Megyn"

Once upon that midnight fated,
While I surveyed, satisfied and sated,
Polling monographs obscure but intriguing,
Statistics unknown theretofore.
While I plotted, resolve undaunted,
Suddenly, there came a visitor unwanted,
And to this day I am haunted,
By the way she taunted,
Taunted from my chamber door,
"Is this just math you do as a Republican,
'Or is this real" she implored.


So distinctly I remember,
It was in that bleak November.
I, and hosts who couldn't engender
An evolved platform were seen no more.
An acceptance of demographics,
Requiring oratorical acrobatics,
And a purge of religious fanatics,
Banishing Romney, Ryan, and reason
For the remainder of this,
or any season,
And all unnamed here for evermore.

That public pulling back by your person,
Of our Mephistophelean right wing curtain,
Chilled me - filled me with a paranoid shiver anyone would abhor.
Yes Hillary, there is a vast conspiracy,
And in all sincerity,
From the time I portrayed an Arkansas trooper,
with guile and temerity,
Bill was my agent provocateur
Until his cover was blown on the Oval Office floor.

In that void flowed a new contextualism,
reconfigured as neo-conservatism,
A policy of compassionate corporate colonialism
on foreign shore.
Within our nation building,
With its glimmering golden gilding,
Reposed horrors of extraordinary rendition
in its dungeon hiding
A moral schism neither questioned nor explored,
And will not be now or evermore.

At every junction
for twenty years without compunction,
I performed his executive function,
Transforming his countenance to Presidential,
From that alcoholic ne'er-do-well of yore.
But there comes the day,
all the blood is leeched away,
And the parasite from its host must stray
I sought out wealthy but dullard fellows,
Promising I would be their bellows,
Bellows for the coming inferno
which would consume Obama for evermore.

Separated from my symbiont
but seeking knowledge,
I made my annual CPAC pilgrimage,
My naked ambition not incongruent
With the Bible and American Flag I wore.
For the mere cost of an insider trade,
This promise Justices Roberts and Thomas made;
"You will be brazenly delighted
And personally most farsighted
Should you emulate Citizens United
When the next election cycle comes to the fore."

I approached the next crossroads
With care and cunning
As both my profit and prestige
were potentially stunning
Only needing to convince the marks
that I could fix the score.
But could I peer into those hearts,
Those vapid black holes,
And tell the story any harks,
ours being kindred souls,
Removing liberal bias for those sharks, unskewing the polls
Pretending it is only that, and nothing more.

Intermission- like Ann said, "This is hard!
[ame=http://www.youtube.com/embed/d2y0lrvPnpU?autoplay=1]Boardwalk Empire Intro - YouTube[/ame]

Don't take me as a common grifter
None separates the funds any swifter
From the free market trader
To the serial tax evader,
Their contributions gushingly outpour.
Those conservative captains of commerce and industry,
Rewarded the gallantry of my attacking,*
Hacking with neither quarter given nor guile lacking,
In battles won now and forever more.

My henchmen at the ready, when, an
Anonymous warning made them unsteady.
Tho no real threat could I discern,
The fear in my men had my concern,
which I could not ignore.
If we repeat our cybergate
In at least three swing states
It will seal mine and our nation's fate.
I told my men that planes can fall from the sky,
Brakes can fail and you'll never know why.
Only that, and nothing more.

The election drawing near,
The loyalty bought with fear
Coalesces in the hearts of
Pawns and proctor, and the patrons
To which we swore.
No good outcome do I foresee,
Should I stay or should I flee,
Oh God, what will become of me,
Will I die or will I be, will I finish this damned soliloquy, now*or evermore.

Previously withheld, unquelled bloodlust, melds with my vision of victory
Vaingloriously swirling, twirling, intertwining, non-contradictory,
In complete rapport.
Tis time, Tis time to flip the switch
The polity of Ohio, I again bewitch
This reverse, as been rehearsed
Like a simple crevasse oft traversed
Now, fire burn and cauldron bubble
Computer churn, forestall our trouble as so many times before.

Our falcon is flying through cyberspace, finding and feasting on a furtive database
A right shift revision interfaced
with algorithmic precision
So Romney and Ryan might hear the crowd roar.
Conservatives , nearly orphaned and forlorn, but never broken
Will now restore the White House to whom the manor born
Fulfilling my contract as guarantor.

Now Nearing finality, one more status check a mere formality
The right shift now a known
normality
I glance at the growing gross vote
and enter my adios vote to Obama, just as I did Al Gore.
As the status I refreshed, the gears of democracy moaned and threshed
Then silently remeshed signaling my reward, not even the most astute would impute the action untoward
And I'll be back to hosting this house of ill repute
Coasting as I'm boasting of the trick I performed as Sherman Adelson's whore.

I stare at the totals with eyes bleary
The night is long, the soul is weary
Waiting for the migration of ephemeral floaters, momentarily expecting
confirmation of those redirected voters
Soon to be emerging, surging, eventually diverging from the path they were on before.
But whilst clutching , caressing this and my past successes
A myriad of excesses, a cacophony of duresses shock me, mock me
As I attempt to restore.

At this point of my confusion, furiously dissecting deed from delusion
You discovered me, nearly uncovered me
My attempt at extricating from the White Housing a vexing, perplexing achromatic complexion I so deplore.
In my moment of duress you chose to aggress
My explanations severed spurned and suppressed
My employ as a tactician of sedition portrayed as a fools' mission
You so brutally chose to underscore
Wicked Woman ! Begone! Torment me nevermore!

 

[midcan5]

'The Answer'

"Tonight, looking for the answer,
I must have killed an hour
flipping through philosophy and poetry books,
every few minutes opening and reading a different title.
I anxiously searched all the places I keep books—
looking in the kitchen, the boys’ rooms,
checking the laundry room and workshop,
before going outside finally to the curb
to search through books tossed
in the backseat of the car.
Snow fell straight down in the windless silence.
The keys in my left hand jingled like very small bells.
I stopped and tried to remember
what I’d come into the night looking for."

Richard Jones

 

[Impenitent]

"Presidential Debate"

Romney:

I could make a merger that devours
Hobnobbing with world powers
Golfing in Bahrain
But to get elected I'll turn the tables
Where would you buy your staples
If I hadn't worked at Bain

Who'd bust unions with efficiency
Reducing cost and deficiency
For a capital gain
Would I look like a robber baron
In this Armani suit I'm wearin'
If I hadn't worked at Bain

I'm looking forward to the general
When my old politics become ephemeral.
And stop causin' so much pain
but I'll still keep you guessin' with
Which entitlements I'd be messin' with
If I hadn't worked at Bain

Obama:

I see you have some apprehension
Totally lacking comprehension
Of other people's pain
Tho your Daddy was a liberal
You're a diff'rant individual
Karl Rove controls your brain

I know what you're athinkin'
They'll never allow another Lincoln
Your party's not the same
Up not down would be sensational
But his pull is gravitational
Karl Rove controls your brain

But no matter whose water I'm afetchin'
It's not me who keeps goose-steppin'
when others are in pain
If schadenfreude makes you merry
Go ahead and stay a dingleberry
Karl Rove controls your brain

 

[Impenitent]

Pigmalion, a Farce in 5 Acts, Act I


Johnny Mac needed a date for a wedding
So he turned to Mush Limpole for some vetting
I want a demure but bright lass
With big boobs and a tight ass
I'll score you some roxies for your abetting


Johnny, I haven't found any zingers
Alas with the total package, few ringers
A matronly Texan too plain
Or those Trotskyites in Maine
Where in these 48 are the right-wingers


Mush, perhaps a compromise this time
The main thing is that she look fine
If cute and low in chronology
I don't care about her ideology
Damn, I don't even care about mine


Within this herd there is a dearth
But Ms Right we will unearth
We must expand our search
Who at this party would besmirch
Merely because of her place of birth


I'm overcome with a conservative vision
I hope this won't be met with your derision
I dreamed of a committee ad hoc
With me and that gal on 30 Rock
Mush, I'll create a clone by cell division!


Pigmalion. Act II


I asked our nation's leader who stated glibly
I have a plan to shoot her in the belly
and after this act of predation
Move to my undisclosed location
If it fails I'll just blame Scooter Libby


But Dick I won't commit murder
I prefer to not even hurt her
The scientists who contrive
To continually keep you alive
It's with them I'd like to confer


He referred me to Doctor Zhivago
A cryogenic scientist in Chicago
Had the secret of the matter
A frozen head on a platter
Carried by Salma a comely Chicano


Salma bode me stand closer to see
I was doing just that when she directed me
Back to that frozen head
Although obviously long dead
Staring at me the face of Dick Cheney


My God what are the implications
Is Dick's heart lacking palpitations
Is Zhivago really Boris Karloff
Must I cut Tina Fey's head off
Is Salma signaling romantic invitations


Pigmalion, Act III


Zhivago explained what injured Dick alas
An oilfield explosion when bent to kiss ass
Sealing a deal with Hussein
So Haliburton could remain
Sole producer of oil and Saddam's natural gas


Saddam gathered all of Dick he could view
Frozen inside an aluminum tube with co2
Despite his best inclination
A problem with refridgeration
Left us with only this head and Cheney stew


Zhivago said the human body Is a vessel
It's really not that much of a hassle
I don't want the head of Ms Fey
But need a body and her DNA
And stem cells to have your ideal damsel


Then Mush called, excited and in a daze
This Alaskan woman does amaze
Sarah Doolittle is her name
Against corruption is her claim
For a new wardrobe she'll change her ways


Salma will not be be in my plan of attack
Even though she had a nice rack
Much to my regret
I was sure she was wet
I'm afraid that was only her back


Pigmalion, Act IV


Mush is on a fact finding mission
But she might be chosen due to attrition
He can negotiate with Ms Doolittle
Come home with her committal
And collect from Feelgood, my personal physician


Johnny, now that she's been chosen
No doubt you two will soon be posin'
But after doing heavy lifting
My bad back is very fitting
And for those roxies I am jonesin'


We'll get her to Chicago by some ruse
A free nip tuck she couldn't refuse
So with Tina's DNA awaiting
Zhivago can go about creating
My date for Uncle Sam's big schmooze


I myself am headed for New York City
But first must meet with the pork committee
Give Michael J Fox and jerks
Money for stem cell research?
Stick a fork in that, I've got no pity


It was easy getting in 30 Rock that day
My celebrity helps me in that way
Watching Tina taping closeups
I quickly switched our coffee cups
Giving me the DNA of Ms Tina Fey


Pigmalion, Act V


Sarah flew to Chicago as was our plan
To be the perfect date for the leading man
Her sweet innocence soon imbued
With Tina Fey drama will exude
I'll be Prince Charles and she Lady Diane


Zhivago did all was promised to fix her
Injecting into Sarah his magic elixir
Thowing in a youthful perk
And that now signature smirk
Leaving his nurse to ready Sarah for the mixer


A woman scorned is desperate for survival
Tho only tasked with Sarah's revival
Realizing as she holds the suture
Sarah instead will live her future
Salma chanted over the body of her rival


Double double toil and trouble
Fire burn and caldron bubble
Venom strike of snake got
Blood of poison toad in pot
Tempered with brain of Betty Rubble


Zhivago burst in tho certainly too late
Realizing the horror done over a date
A soul destroyed in that chanting
Reduced to a life of bitter ranting
An angelic woman condemned to this demonic fate

 

[percysunshine]

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great

And would suffice. -Frost

 

[Stashman]

The Closet Scratchers Club​

I've got a lovely penis and some hairy balls to match it,
And sometimes when it itches than I like to sit and scratch it.
I scratch it in the morning, and I scratch it in the night,
Cause when I scratch it long enough it starts to feel alright.

Well I scratch it when it itches, but usually when it doesn't,
And if someone see's me do it than I quickly say I wasn't.
Cause scratching it in public is a nasty little habit,
And you could be arrested if someone see's you grab it.

So if your gonna scratch it than make sure that no one see's you,
Cause bail will cost you plenty when the time has come to free you.
So be a closet scratcher if your gonna scratch your nub,
And join the countless thousands in the closet scratchers club.​

 

[Mad_Cabbie]

Perfection.
February 6, 2012 at 4:47am

The Sun shines its glorious light upon its subjects -

Its surface, uninhabitable and deadly to the touch

yet, It is perfect because without it,

there would be no light.



A mighty Elm stretches across the sky and offers shade

on a scorching summer day -

It is held fast, a prisoner to its roots

yet it is perfect because without it,

there would be no shade.



A mother provides for her young and guards them from danger -

She bares the scars of motherhood

yet without her

there would be no love.



If a ball of fire or a simple plant attains perfection,

how is it that you are imperfect?



You are perfect because without you

your world would cease to exist ~

Mad Cabbie.



.

 

[Impenitent]

Testing...testing...testing

Things seem to be working again!

Here's one I wrote some time back during a test of wills, on another venue:


Schadenfreude Schadenfreude
Every evening you deplore me
Sharp and fleet
Precise and neat
You seem so happy to gore me
Hatred though
Destroys the soul
It will grow forever
Schadenfreude Schadenfreude
A self defeating endeavor

 

[Impenitent]

I met her in the evening
A chance encounter
Giving me that old feeling
There could be more in store

She, shivering and stranded
Asking only to use my phone
Alone and being quite candid
At that cheap motel door

She telling me her story
Of homelessness and desperation
A flirtation with my altruistic glory
Her dignity my honor to restore

There I, an aging boomer
Being quite the perfect gentleman
With a woman thirty years my junior
Would she become my paramour

How much she missed her baby
While locked up in county
And cryin' cryin', oh maybe
I'd just help her score

How this had really wrung her
And would be ever so beholdin'
And after feeding this gnawing hunger
Could she stay for more

She looked deeply in my eyes
Aiming below my heart and soul
She was jonesin' and that was why
As she wasn't a reg'lar whore

We descended into hell with no regret
Our individual needs so irresistible
A prick to her arm, and t'where it warm and wet
Her salvation we mutually ignored

In a moment I learned how weak I am
She, helpless and needing my charity
I, so willing to fall for her scam
Intertwined now, with fates we deplore

 

[Impenitent]

"Disparately Seeking Duzy"

And your acceptant embrace!

Hey, Democratic Underground my writings are profound and mercurial! Can't you use an extra terrestrial?

If you agree with me, or relate to what I said, you can RSVP within this very thread!

Anticipating Fridays chosen, and who with Duzy is posin'...

Yet again, not America's Idol !

Judges are quirky. Alas, another turkey...

Perhaps this is tribal?

Before everyone limps away, here's a glimpse of my day, and the hours I devote:

Just this morning I proved global warming. You'd think someone would take note!

I waded water to my knees, landing refugees in the Keys, before being thrown off the boat!

I crammed Donald's mullet down his gullet, when of certificates he began to gloat!

I called Rush and made him blush, about words and what they connote!

"Ask not what your country can do for you
but what you can do for your country"

I know those words by rote. But he should have added, as i just now did,

"But you'll be judged by what you wrote!"

So you see, no better lib than me, but for a Duzy they are choosy...

And I'll get not a vote.

 

[midcan5]

'Job Interview'

'Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife
He would have written sonnets all his life?'
Don Juan, III, 63-4

"Where do you see yourself five years from now?"
the eldest male member (or is "male member"
a redundancy?) of the committee
asked me. "Not here," I thought. A good thing I
speak fluent Fog. I craved that job like some
unappeasable, taunting woman.
What did Byron's friend Hobhouse say after
the wedding? "I felt as if I had buried
a friend." Each day I had that job I felt
the slack leash at my throat and thought what was
its other trick. Better to scorn the job than ask
what I had ever seen in it or think
what pious muck I'd ladled over
the committee. If they believed me, they
deserved me. As luck would have it, the job
lasted me almost but not quite five years."

William Matthews

 

[Impenitent]

"Nukes, Nukes, Nukes"



Aboard Enola Gay I carry a curse
And to the world below I'll disperse
My half of a breeding pair
God please hear my prayer
From this Noah's Ark in reverse
__________________

The war was won by conventional means
But Japanese don't surrender it seems
To avoid a deadly incursion
We created an ungodly diversion
Of smoke mirrors mushrooms and screams

Our economic collapse could release a bias
Of respect for humanity we've been impious
Will we reproach our crime
Before we approach the time
When history is no longer written by us
__________________
This reply could be a little stark
But is a warning you might hark
Sure you can live mostly
Heated warm and toasty
Plus lights when you glow in the dark

----------------------

Oil, coal, and atoms, poisons in any guise
Stop this deceit of the devil, otherwise
You'll all be dead
And then God said
I gave you the Sun, the Wind, the Tides

 

[midcan5]

Don't forget Poetry as gifts this season. I am currently reading Robert Wrigley's 'Beautiful Country.' Love the cover photo.

============================

'Do You Love Me?'

"She's twelve and she's asking the dog,
who does, but who speaks
in tongues, whose feints and gyrations
are themselves parts of speech.

They're on the back porch
and I don't really mean to be taking this in
but once I've heard I can't stop listening. Again
and again she asks, and the good dog

sits and wiggles, leaps and licks.
Imagine never asking. Imagine why:
so sure you wouldn't dare, or couldn't care
less. I wonder if the dog's guileless brown eyes

can lie, if the perfect canine lack of abstractions
might not be a bit like the picture books
she "read" as a child, before her parents' lips
shaped the daily miracle of speech

and kisses, and the words were not lead
and weighed only air, and did not mean
so meanly. "Do you love me?" she says
and says, until the dog, sensing perhaps

its own awful speechlessness, tries to bolt,
but she holds it by the collar and will not
let go, until, having come closer,
I hear the rest of it. I hear it all.

She's got the dog's furry jowls in her hands,
she's speaking precisely
into its laid-back, quivering ears:
"Say it," she hisses, "say it to me.""

Robert Wrigley

 

[HenryBHough]

The Rolling English Road
by G.K.Chesterton

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;
A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.

I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,
Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,
The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.

His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run
Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?
The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which,
But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch.
God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear
The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.

My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage,
Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,
But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,
And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;
For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,
Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.

 

[Impenitent]

"B'Endiana Natuf and the Volcano of Doom"

A right wing crisis of sorts
A disaster close to our hearts
One more carbon dioxide machine
Extinct, gone from the scene
Call Rush! Call Sean! Call Bono!
We must save the last volcano

Arriving in their corporate jets
Or convoys of hummers and corvettes
They rally at Reagan Internationale
So dour, so pious, so fashionable
Nary a common tree hugger wacko
Thus not a word of enviro mytho

We'll have our statement on the environments
After we make these two announcements
We've selected B' En as our native guide
To save this generator of carbon dioxide
He'll sail for Iceland on the Calypso
That frenchy's ship we got as a repo

A gaseous producer we'll save to prove our points
That a mere compound of life giving elements
Cannot trap heat in the atmosphere
What we deny will be perfectly clear
It will not take inspector Cleauseau
To prove the innocence of CO2

B' En has landed in Iceland he reports
He will initiate our plan of last resorts
For the volcano with the limestone facade
No doubt plugged by Bjork and Sinead
A flyover with Sarah shooting drano
Down the throat of that dormant volcano

With a prayer to Vulcan , B' En departs
No virgin to sacrifice Sarah retorts
(Tucker Carlson didn't answer our query)
The blast and the sound and fury
Signals the spewing of dogma we bestow
Again to the world with this magma flow
___________

 

[HenryBHough]

Title: The Rhyme Of The Remittance Man
Author: Robert W. Service [More Titles by Service]

There's a four-pronged buck a-swinging in the shadow of my cabin,
And it roamed the velvet valley till to-day;
But I tracked it by the river, and I trailed it in the cover,
And I killed it on the mountain miles away.
Now I've had my lazy supper, and the level sun is gleaming
On the water where the silver salmon play;
And I light my little corn-cob, and I linger, softly dreaming,
In the twilight, of a land that's far away.

Far away, so faint and far, is flaming London, fevered Paris,
That I fancy I have gained another star;
Far away the din and hurry, far away the sin and worry,
Far away -- God knows they cannot be too far.
Gilded galley-slaves of Mammon -- how my purse-proud brothers taunt me!
I might have been as well-to-do as they
Had I clutched like them my chances,
learned their wisdom, crushed my fancies,
Starved my soul and gone to business every day.

Well, the cherry bends with blossom and the vivid grass is springing,
And the star-like lily nestles in the green;
And the frogs their joys are singing, and my heart in tune is ringing,
And it doesn't matter what I might have been.
While above the scented pine-gloom, piling heights of golden glory,
The sun-god paints his canvas in the west,
I can couch me deep in clover, I can listen to the story
Of the lazy, lapping water -- it is best.

While the trout leaps in the river, and the blue grouse thrills the cover,
And the frozen snow betrays the panther's track,
And the robin greets the dayspring with the rapture of a lover,
I am happy, and I'll nevermore go back.
For I know I'd just be longing for the little old log cabin,
With the morning-glory clinging to the door,
Till I loathed the city places, cursed the care on all the faces,
Turned my back on lazar London evermore.

So send me far from Lombard Street, and write me down a failure;
Put a little in my purse and leave me free.
Say: "He turned from Fortune's offering to follow up a pale lure,
He is one of us no longer -- let him be."
I am one of you no longer; by the trails my feet have broken,
The dizzy peaks I've scaled, the camp-fire's glow;
By the lonely seas I've sailed in -- yea, the final word is spoken,
I am signed and sealed to nature. Be it so.

 

[Impenitent]

Muse

Ever since our chance encounter
Time ceases as my thoughts I peruse
I recall our warm friendly banter
And writing poems to my Muse

That illusion will always endear
Oh Erato, I relive it every day
You play your song to my ear
Our words dance in grand ballet

Will you rekindle that burning moment
For I fear the ember will fade
And I'll never again have that token
It will have been a mere charade

Perhaps you once again sight this
Please take my hand and write this...

 

[Impenitent]

Muse

Ever since our chance encounter
Time ceases as my thoughts I peruse
I recall our warm friendly banter
And writing poems with my Muse

That illusion will always endear
Oh Erato, I relive it every day
You play your song to my ear
Our words dance in grand ballet

Will you rekindle that burning moment
For I fear the ember will fade
And I'll never again have that token
It will have been a mere charade

Perhaps you once again sight this
Please take my hand and write this...

Hoorah! She beckons to me again
Calling, calling through the murkiness
Was I was not rejected with disdain
Please, with your sonnet allay my anxiousness


"Tho we are but fragile souls of twain
It was my delight to fill your emptiness
Have my song and love, forget your pain
But know that my gifts are not limitless'

' I poured myself on you, it was never feigned
Just as for you, it was for me - timeless
But Poet, giving unrequited left me weak - drained
Be not selfish in our rhyming symbiosis"

0h Muse, my pretense could you not see through
My songs, my poems, my love - they were for you

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=v1ySZ1M8Dfc

 

[Impenitent]

"Sonnet #1"
(2nd attempt!)

At the end of a hunt my ears did hear
A song of joy signaling spring my way
My gun at the ready, my prey was near
But the robin flew to my wrist that day

Away, away little songbird from me
I hunt your kind and have not my limit
Your song is sweet but I think you should flee
For things could turn in a New York minute

To Robin her old song was fresh and blessed
As the red-breasted bird more proudly sang
Though eyes of blue i saw her puff her chest
The hunt that day would not end with a bang

Robin as long as that color are you
Will be hunters like me, more men of blue