Têtes
Je vois, Aristo, que tu les as mis à l'épreuve
Alors qu'ils se battaient entre eux dans les rues
Tu t'es gavé de gâteaux somptueux et de pains raffinés
Alors que les enfants de cette ville n'ont pas à manger
Tu peux acheter leurs âmes malades avec une pièce d'or
Mais tes richesses ne suffiront pas à te purifier de tes péchés
Et ne pense pas pouvoir échapper à la justice
Quand la révolution en marche commencera
Ta corruption s'est propagée comme un cancer
De la Nef jusqu'à la Reine
Alors tu peux compter sur ton rendez-vous
Quand viendra le temps de rencontrer notre Madame Guillotine
HEADS
I see, Aristo, you have put them to the test
As they fight among themselves in the streets
Gorged yourself on lavish cakes and fancy breads
While the children of this city, have not to eat
You can buy their sicken souls with a gold piece
But your riches aren't enough to clear your sin
And don't think you can run a hide from justice
When the revolution on it's way, begins
Your corruption, has spread just like a cancer
From a Nave all the way up to The Queen
So you may count on keeping your appointment
When it's time to meet our Madame Guillotine
Categories:
aristo, poverty, power,
Form: Lyric
My house is ruled by an aristocrat
in the form of a petite pussycat.
Clearly, from where I stand,
I'm second-in-command.
That explains why she's called "Magnifi-Cat"!
Categories:
aristo, appreciation, cat,
Form: Limerick
Image 1.
An aristo-cat sat
Reading a book
He wore glasses at that
Right there in the nook
He enjoyed some tea
In a fine china cup
As the clock struck three
His tea he did sup
Categories:
aristo, cat,
Form: Rhyme
Methinks, who wanders after pint size toy
To which Aristocrats bow in humbleness?
Afore the little toy went to dance with the rough,
Off the tee in bounces, unto the way unfair,
Wrong way, or off the fair fairway,
Thought hazard but out of bound!
Grudgingly he bowed for a retake,
Now to the little toy the mighty was humbled.
Pint size, mint size, bright white,
Toys in colour bundles.
Fly it goes in kiss with the sky
Little toy, little joy laced in greedy-burden.
Amidst the Aristos stood the landlord, well-trodden,
Yes, the Capo whose toy ran him out of bound,
Silly toy, bad troy, “O, not my day!” He mused.
His baroness hummed, bumped her bum in bummer,
Pitiable they were before the bunker.
“Handicap will tell.” She said in laughter.
But the Aristos were called handicaps too,
Laughed I was at these “Handicaps”
As they missed the little hole in taps.
Hopped the Aristo to win the hole;
Warped the baroness in prayer he missed the hole,
The little hole, pint size toy.
With smiles, his toy, she glanced,
The Aristo did miss the hole.
I laughed at the people of holes.
Hmm! Life with Golfers and little holes.
Categories:
aristo, appreciation, extended metaphor, golf,
Form: Dramatic Verse
I see, Aristo, you have put them to the test
As they fight among themselves in the streets
Gorged yourself on lavish cakes and fancy breads
While the children of this city, have not to eat
You can buy their sicken souls with a gold piece
But your riches aren't enough to clear your sin
And don't think you can run a hide from justice
When the revolution on it's way, begins
Your corruption, has spread just like a cancer
From a Nave all the way up to The Queen
So you may count on keeping your appointment
When it's time to meet our Madame Guillotine
Categories:
aristo, abuse, corruption, discrimination, freedom,
Form: Rhyme
Our Politicians
They speak like politicians
And hold a great ambition.
They think they are right
And same speech they recite.
They always gather for a bite
Deciding who should start the fight.
All have their own stations
To be the victims of cremation.
They gather their own crowd
Who cheer and clap to any sound.
They think they are right
Only here for a bite.
They speak like Aristo
And act like Montecristo!
They smoke big cigars
And all drive tinted cars.
They dress in glitter
And all have Twitter.
They act so polite
But hardly can write.
Always in action
Only during the election.
To make a collection
Or a connection.
O What a time you feel like
Committing a crime.
For a brief background about this poem, pls, read the poem (Beirut).
Categories:
aristo, adventure, depression, freedom, funny,
Form: Rhyme