He talked and talked,
gig talker,
on and on.
Didn’t hear about Julie’s love for Gordon and Jilted John.
Conversed selfishly throughout the Buzzcocks explaining Why it had gone wrong.
Missed Shelley’s quips,
Missed all the song.
Held a debate through The Bunnymen’s Ocean rain.
A heated discussion missing how The Cure were Jumping on someone else’s train.
An absolute pain.
Didn’t take the hint from a backward glance as Kraftwerk rode mountain passes on the tour de France and the Ramones asked if we wanted to dance.
Chattered incessantly whilst the Stranglers hung around and ruined tomorrow’s parties enraging Nico and Velvet underground.
Too loud.
Prattled away as Joy Division played,
killing the Atmosphere.
Morrissey pleaded Please please please but he still didn’t hear.
Bad gig combination Charlie and beer.
To cap it off on his way home,gabbling into his mobile phone, the irony wasn’t lost on us. He never heard it coming, the night bus.
Hit him square,his brand new Primark Nirvana t shirt matted with blood and hair.
(Sing)
“Keep you mind on your driving
Keep you hands on the wheel
Keep your snoopy eyes on the road ahead.“
Should’ve f***ing listened.
Gloaming gone, gloom begins;
gabbling ghouls gyrate on
gargoyles, gawping with their
grim glaucous eyes, scaring
gravid girls, gormless boys;
goatish hooves gigue upon
gibbets, grave corpses jig.
Two birds like mischievous teens
skipping, giggling as they cross
the pumps, dodging car scenes
through the oily and Oldsmobile dross.
Scoundrels living loud in their little world
chirping along, rippling through grime,
gabbling as they kick the can, twirling
and uttering in incoherent rhyme.
Oh the crime of poetic injustice,
those bobbing teeny hoodlums -
their imagery without substance.
No alliteration nor allusions.
But the human takes notice of the couple,
just too cute, their slim legs and beaks
skimming through the rainbow puddle
with sputtering tweets, puttering in the grease.
majestic mountains!
are these hill chains telling tales?
trees are hysteric...
head held high homely,
cliffs strive to kiss the bright sky ---
hands outspread in joy...
hiding and seeking,
are clouds lovingly taunting?
shy evening stars flush...
golden sunbeams shine,
are these blooms on rocks dancing?
vibrant valleys vamp...
streams midst plants babble,
do ripples tickle these ponds?
schools of fish squiggle...
green carpets spread out,
Are these cranes on fashion shows?
doves and crows converse...
waterfalls trickle,
are these rustling leaves gabbling?
parrots in romance...
How splendid celestial scenes...!!!
Choral Singer-
You're looking at the choral singer
You're looking at the choral singer
I'm dancing, dancing 'til dawn
I feel lonely
I'm dancing 'til dawn
It's time we had some storms
You don't wanna be stuck indoors promenading
You must think I'm unaccompanied
Everyone is musical sometimes
Don't like your rhymes
Is musical sometimes
You don't wanna be philharmonic like me
You must think I'm a back-beat
Records ain't nothing when I'm gabbling with ya
You're looking at the choral singer
Music
If you feel like wandering
Everyone is musical sometimes
Won't like your rhymes
Is musical sometimes
7/29/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.© 2020
sleeping mood brings anomalous rhyme
dreamy night embraces me with chime
lyric songs of the dawn
bite the sleep with adorn
drowsy gabbling mimes dithering time
-January 28, 2020 Chattogram
Nineteen seventy nine and we don't even care ?
As restless as we are yet, tis so easy to get caught up
Within orphan Joey's perpetual season in woes this rainbow
Skidrow coloured their flesh but don't you know; smit the bit this lingo pit
Hanging on a tit suckled through a slit rin tin sin and his brother gin shoving grenades
In their blue blank daze sunless gaze abysmal cage crack'pot sage fortune teller rage feed the beast
Bowing to statues reaching for gold serving their belly this hate that they hold: king copula's gab'fest gabbling....
Crossing continents spheres as realms tis hard not to feel the pain you instill your evil ways darkened haze their babies.
Greyish geese gabbling
Goslings greedily gouging
Gardens green grass gone
Greyish geese gabbling
Goslings greedily gouging
Gardens green grass gone
1.Nothing regards better than
getting wise children.
2.Inheriting innocent heirs innocuous
for future generation.
3.Great Children are like fruits
of sowed seeds.
4.Kids’ little-porridge offer is
better than ambrosia.
5.Kind touch, strange languages
of children delightful.
6.Deaf to kids’ gabbling
flatter flute, guitar.
7.Father’s gratefulness, merit his
son among scholars.
8.Transcending of children profits
mankind than parents.
9.Esteeming son delights mother
than she bore.
10.Son’s gratitude, parents delight
for giving birth.
---------------------------------------------
Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31B.C), the author in Tamil
Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU, INDIA
Published in poetry.com on 7-12-13
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