Emirati Glitterati…sold their soul
All for an arty farty party so dull
Each troll got a very simple goal
Going for gold their Faustian role
Befriend astro knoll on pretend atoll
Look at me vanity but never a lull
Narcissist fantasy look like a doll
Maybe botox detox don't annul
Tax free captivity in goldfish bowl
Not like before well war takes its toll
Rakes get the shakes out of control
Save me plea on every single scroll
Fakes & flakes on the make must cull
Hard not to laugh at whole rigmarole
Tragic they chose their Arabic hellhole
Goodbye to Dubai magic back to Hull
Mull over becoming a prole on the dole
If there was a poll would say Tres Drole
Or on insular influencer peninsula "LOL"
we welcome dark fear forms
since their presence signals
that like dark spots on the moon
we too have in our aura a flaw
onto which delusion may anchor
were it not for pricks of thorns
would we not like the glitterati
languish intoxicated by scents
numbing sentience of our soul
frittering away the gift of life
It was the Annual Pickle Party
To celebrate cucumbers
From dark corners of the pantry
They welcomed all newcomers
There was Dill and Green and Sour
And Bread and Butter too
Mustard turned up rather late
A Gherkin jar made its debut
Things were going splendidly
They were pickled and having fun
When suddenly, all went quiet
And the awkwardness begun
They were in a pickle now -
A stranger had crashed the party
He was smooth in his white suit
And smiling like the glitterati
It was a sticky situation
They looked about in dread
Who was going to tell him...
That he was a pickled egg!
Flattered teen man glitterati,
an echelon. Wouldn't you bow?
An axis of glittering damsels.
Pedestal of my clan… the authority!
I clawed the sky; I climbed so fast!
Feasible, get-at-able, so she slides in.
Naive me… the hero of Lassie.
I am suave to the Angel of fantasies.
I murmur, I tremble.
Glimpses of commitments, now a subpoena,
flawed my majesty, winks indignity at me.
Had I known a decemvir earlier?
Get me the clock, let me rewind it.
No Mom! I need rebirth.
Yes, it's the racing carnival,
Fashionistas so topical,
Significance trivial,
Lovely fillies,
Eye candy,
Drunk and silly,
Studs in suits,
Looking beaut,
Glitterati,
Haves and wannabes,
For the paparazzi,
Doyens of the racing industry,
You all look fabulous,
Gambling magnanimous,
Thoroughbreds' gloss,
Media hype and dross,
Great racing day,
Booze, bets and babes,
Stuff the plebs today,
Our public holiday,
Melbourne Cup Day!
I have agreed to cede
an unwritten moon
in a killing frenzy,
for a chequered spirituality.
Now visitation will start
ravishing the light at dawn.
The grievers will assemble
for a final scoop of dust.
Forgive my star,
for a failed touchdown.
A child stands before glitterati
born again to suffer the other sky.
Nothing comes out of nothing.
The circle was complete.
Satish Verma
You are percolating
in many spangles with
visible echo's whelming
and sundrops expressions,
shimmering in...More estatic
than a staccato glowing firework show
coated with fluid inconsistancy.
You're slick with bursts of light
in tones glistening, exciting my vision,
envigeling my eyes with delight
drawing my awareness
to different facets, you squint and
glitter quicker; than all the darlings
on a Hollywood glitterati night.! Copyright Joe Maverick 2011
One rhyme at a time,
One love to linger on;
A little piece of you
And me, the glitterati
Of sonnets, and
Of free verse;
We let ourselves to flow,
Sometimes, we overflow;
Coating in the passion
To shed out the emotions;
Poetry brings us together,
Re-unites us, when we fall;
You are my poetry
And I’m your rhyme;
You are my free verse
And I am your sonnet;
For words are out there,
Sweet as we whisper.
All things being equal, as they are upon this day,
The time of light and that of dark equivalent of span,
We sat upon the beaten bench above the traffic crawl,
Sipping from the draining hours as they broke and ran.
Aloft the terraced houses, huddled ramshackle and spent,
A shepard sky of red delight beneath the stars above,
As dimly they revealed themselves when night came closing in,
Soft focused glitterati beads that shone on fledgling love.
And looking in her eyes I thought of all that was to come,
Of all the kingdoms I might walk if she were at my side,
Bedazzled by her tilting head, the bronze cascade of hair,
A chisel jimmied in my heart and snapped it open wide.
All things being equal, as they were that vernal point,
When spring had risen in her breast and sang within my head,
Little did we realise these moments had a twin,
Equality in darker terms when Autumn dared to tread.
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