Long James bond Poems
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Its sundown, the day’s been reduced to a crack of lavender and fiery pinks along the Massif des Maures mountains. This evening we’re sipping cocktails at “Les Toits,” the Hôtel de Paris’ rooftop restaurant. The French would call this a lounge.
Les toits translates as ‘the roofs’ and its stunning view overlooks the provincial rooftops that slope down the foothills to the gulf of Saint-Tropez and it’s world-famous beaches. The well lit boats are settling down and dropping anchor for the night as we complete our orders and get our second round of drinks.
This has been the best vacation. I think we’ve all reclaimed our calm after a tense freshman year. We’ve been at the beach for 10 days. Leong and Sunny are actually tan, Lisa and my hair are half a tone lighter and Bili’s black skin has taken on gorgeous, purple-ish highlights.
I’ve known Lisa now for ten months, but we share a deep connection that seems older. Lisa’s lovely, brazen, and naturally flashy, without trying. Unfortunately, though, Lisa draws men like a keig-light draws moths - whether she’s looking for them or not - I don’t envy her that. Young men, middle aged men, old men.
Lisa said it started when she was 13. She’d be in a store or restaurant with her mom or dad and a lady would introduce herself, “Hi, I’m with the Ford, or Elite, or IMG, or DNA modeling agency, has your daughter done any modeling?” And another business card would be wasted. Her mom nodded as she recalled this sordid past.
Attention just shifts to her, the party comes to her, she can’t seem to avoid it. About every 30 minutes some man comes over and introduces himself to us (to her). This man owns a local night club, would we (she) be his guest? (He’s looking at her like desert) This guy owns a yacht - “that one, there,” he points it out, in his Russian oligarch voice - he clicks a fob on his keychain and the lights blink. Oh, sure, join a strange foreign man on his yacht, what could go wrong?
There are 8 of us girls at the table with Charles, our escort and confidant. He’s a 50-ish, red headed ex-NYC-cop who just sits there quietly and sips his drink like James Bond. He seldom says anything. I lean in to him and say, “Maybe they think you're her pimp?!” Leong coughs in her drink and Charles gives me the same, serious, “behave yourself” look I’ve gotten since I was 9.
Then she French kissed LizPiggo and publicly scolded the young Chinese server for not making extra sale?
The young lady scribbled her phone number on
napkin and gave it to Gus looking over her shoulder
to the old hag seeming approval. Along with phone number it read, HELP!
Gus thought to himself, maybe the spirits were
speaking through this girl, wanting the help
only he could provide. He winked a James Bond
kind of wink and strolled out like he swallowed
one of his grandmother's pills.
Which he went ahead and did.
The ride one block to home was arduous.
Both stomachs full. LizPiggo was wailing
from inside the backpack. I have to shiiiit!
She whined. Oooo the backpack isn't big enough,
she explained, as a warning. Gus examined the
sturdy zipper and his options, he only had a pair of binoculars for peeping on the neighbor lady in
there which would be easy to clean.
He set his mind on greater things. He needed to do a seance!
Gus stood there in his urine and realized two things,
number one he was already hungry again and two
that LizPiggo ate the leftovers. And three,
"I can't have a seance on an empty stomach.
That's how people become possessed!
Not gonna happen. Not to this guy!"
Gus had been meaning to try the other Chinese
restaurant down the street. This would be the perfect opportunity. He was somewhat not filthy, so he
wouldn't have to bathe. He stole 50 dollars from his
Great Aunt's purse, for just such an occasion.
It was like destiny or something. Gus imagined all the possibilities on the way. On how things were lining up for him in a non coincidental manner. First the hunger, somewhat not filthiness, then the money.
It seemed fate had waited long enough. Would this
be the day he transformed? He didn't know.
It certainly appeared that way. He looked around from the corners of his eyes, to soak in the day's possible
signs. Non chalantly, so as not to seem like he was begging for the powers that be, to crown him.
Once and for all!
Before long Gus had chained his bike 15 times
around the golden dragon that harbinged the
storefront and he made his way inside cautiously
expecting a hag ninja to spring out of a planter
or bench or maybe, there she was directly behind
him with a scale to weigh him and his pockets !....
What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way
What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free
He was of the mind to give them some of his grub
But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first
He then offered them a sip of his tea
But thought it best to spit in it first
He was generous with his backhanded compliments
never missed a beat in his dance of deceit
his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web
Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent
As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered
he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself
A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped
For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond
Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life
Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please!
His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter
He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all
before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need
God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment
Joy should start and end only with him and his kin
and compassion should only ever be pointed his way
He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts
There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be
And that's if it was ever there in the first place
Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness
that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive
It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt
He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour
Little does he know it will never suffice
Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy
Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child
I mean one might be born into abject poverty
but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time
Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive
What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart
and pockets weighed down by gold
Form:
no one has the saddle over the wild horse by the name fate
Jose as I had known him, had a life twisted by untamed forces
gifted and talented, we were the best of buddies, our lives flagged together
the terrain trans-formative, as we crested into our teens
Sundays were the days when our spirit were humbled
four boys at the alter, hands folded like the portrait of the Madonna
I knew him like the back of my hand, I heard he had a father
a father I had never seen since kinder
yet life moved on, we the sailors displayed our masts
hoping that the winds were channeling us, to a place our souls would please
THE TRANSITION
He woke up to a heard walk, he and his mum weren't playing a game of chase
yet life had him on checkmate
discovering the significance of the two sides of a quarter, you had to employ a plan B and yet keep your plan A on the cricket bat
he led a double life, keeping his closest friends behind the scenes
dropping out of high school was tradition in our hood,only that it marked
a reincarnation, from the faint- hearted Jose to a classical James Bond
FORECASTING
the night intruded by slight mourns from carnivores
lighting sparks and thunder shakes, a grant entry for comic villains
till gunshots, lasting long enough to wipe an army of a thousand
an ambush that "ceased"- captive, the lives of six teens short six times each
one of them a girl, recently dropped out, not even her mum knew where she cribbed
clinging to a heard earned home made short gun, which she innocently giggled like "the machineries" ,the title of a Holy Wood Action Flick
Jose briefly called to inform me of the slaughter, didn't mention he was part only that God had given him an avenue for self evaluation
IT'S DONE
I wasn't into the Chicky gossips, that flew fast than the dailies but this one caught my ears
she came, gasping for breath, thanks to her size she looked like a raged elephant
her gang of hooters awaited the bombshell, till her eyes pinned me
"your little friend is dead"...... I left
I left running to the church next to the sewer, there wasn't anyone but me
quickly pressing Jose's contacts, to the sound of server personnel
"the mobile subscriber cannot be reached"
I moved into Rochdale in 1964
My Grandparents and I moved in together
We will not be discussing our ages
Just Rochdale and its amazes
History with a continued stride
As a start off, I who can forget the ROCHDALE MOVIE THEATER
On any given Saturday, it would be a sit down and watch movie flicks
James Bond 007 and Ten Little Indians and then there was one
Action and Thrillers
Those two were my highlights
Speaking of aroma and enchanted senses
PETER PAN BAKERY
Fresh breads, Pastries and assorted cakes
Test of the sweet tooth
My ultimate being the STRAWBERRY SHORT CAKE
Also on any Saturday morning, my Grand Mother would have orders delivered of Seltzer and Soda back then
Regarding water, dazzling colorful water fountain close to Niagara Falls that it’s going to get
Beauty and Mist
At every 7:00 pm hour, the entire sky lights up Rochdale at the end of the evening with colorful eventful lights bringing together all neighbors. Hello Neighbor of our community
That is what you call unity back then
My favorite restaurant was from the past was KING KAROL
What can be said was the Big Box of Popcorn
That’s not all, it the Mash Potatoes, Vegetables and Grilled Sirloin Steak
Never left the Ponderosa
Thanks to my Grand Father in the treat
Rochdale Newspaper, yours truly was featured with a photo of me and a white girl riding our bicycles across splashing through a puddle with the caption stating, “THE NEED FOR BIKE PATHS”
Calling Maintenance
Like flash at your door before you can hang up
All prior years in the newness then
At the Big Mall, you had KREUSS and a Men’s Clothing Store
How time flies and what a difference makes
In fact, we had two malls even back when
Participation was my virtue
You would see me at a lot of events in my younger years
For example, HALLOWEEN
This is just a glimpse of my life at ROCHDALE VILLAGE in the beginning to present
There is a lot more, but if I keep going, I would be like the Duracell Rabbit going and going with no end
Those were my happy times in memory
I wish they would return
Thank you for coming along and giving me the opportunity in sharing my journey.
Things need to get straight
Somewhere there are pearly gates
Using goodness as bait
White and mystical
Healthy and physical
Then there is standing there in the street
A man filled with theatrical heat
Underneath the dark sky
Shifting through the stage reality lie
Illuminated by a lamp
Similar to the dock at the crystal lake camp
Reading casting ads
All seem tasteless and bad
Decided to go
To the one called ‘a picture show’
What was this?
Low budget biz?
“It could be an opera like the star-studded Tommy
Or G rated James Bond magical car where the kids can go with Mommy”
Said the marketing pro
Who was ‘in the know’
Displaying advice
Being nice
Claiming to be an expert
Side hustling selling his concert shirt
Rocky idea originally failed
Got out of jail
Finding bail
Came back
From critic’s attack
Going the distance
Having persistence
Never needed a sequel
To equal
The first one
Still is so much fun
Shown at midnight
Not really looking for a fright
Instead wanting partying might
Tonight, somewhere plays a band
In a garage or on the sand
They mimic a song
Tempting and wrong
About a bat who got out of hell
A story the lyrics did tell
As they turn into who they really are
Visiting friends hanging at the bar
Telling them soon they will spend what is in the tip jar
Observing from above
Wearing a heavenly usher’s glove
Now filled with love
An inexpensive piece of meat
Late hours add ketchup, it is a delightful treat
Enjoying bread and wine
Payment for his time
Realizing he really did shine
Down there
Taking the youthful sinful dare
Entertaining using character flair
For all to share
Until we all gather up there
Over meatloaf that is now gourmet
And to be frank ‘he did it his way’
There was talk about the nuclear bomb
There was a war going on in Vietnam
It was on the news, the drummers were drumming
Look out America, the British are coming
We couldn't wait to turn our radios on
To hear Paul and Ringo, George and John
What could make you feel more alive
Than to rise in the morning to the Dave Clark Five
To be part of it was so much fun
With Eric and "The House of the Rising Sun"
Music sent from heaven above
Peter and Gordon "A World Without Love"
There was Peter Noone and Herman's Hermits sound
While Petula Clark took us all "Downtown"
The country went wild when Donovan hit the stage
Tom Jones and Dusty Springfield were part of the rage
Oh Lord one day please take me back
To hear Marianne Faithful and Cilla Black
The Rolling Stones conquered every city
And Manfred Mann sang "Do Wah Diddy"
The Kinks and Troggs took us for a whirl
The New Seekers sang about "Georgy Girl"
British fashion was everywhere
And the Zombies told us "She's Not There"
Now James bond was doing some super spying
Gerry said, "Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying"
Freddie and the Dreamers sang "I'm Telling You Now"
The British had conquered America somehow
The Searchers, The Hollies, meaningful words
Chad and Jeremy, don't forget the Yardbirds
If there was a way we could do it again
We'd have another invasion like we did back then.
If you weren't there, it might be hard to understand. The music had meaning
with political statements and social statements written between the lines. the
young were actively involved and the apathy that exists now was hard to find. The
fun music was fun music and the message music set a tone for a generation. It
was a great time to be growing up in spite of the turmoil in the world, a world we
thought we all could change. Times change, sometimes not for the better.
The last time, I looked at my checking account,
I saw a colossal bunch of zeroes, six figures,
With a zero in front of the other numbers;
I had zero interest credited to my account.
I started laughing, I started to count
The zeroes. I said to myself, let pretend
That I was B. Gates or Buffett, with all of their billions;
Dreaming ostentatiously large in a foreign land,
Where my shoes sunk in a box full of onions.
(I must confess that money has a funky smell,
Just like a sweaty accountant who has not showered
For days, or a stressful peddler without a daily sale.)
I was on cloud nine - dreaming and
Hallucinating. I was chilling out on the sand,
And living care free like a happy vagabond,
Like an audacious and brave actor named James Bond
On vacation. Suddenly, I began to realize that zeroes
Can have different meanings, and being rich
Or poor is a state of mind. The beach
Is full of bathers, folks and foes,
Who are pretending, and who see things differently.
The nomad with his zeroes is maybe
Happier than D. Trump, who owns innumerable casinos;
Not everyone looks at money the same way.
My zeroes have a special meaning.
The billionaires are spacing, worrying,
Earning HUGE interests and avoiding penalties,
So they can keep their amenities.
What they don’t realize is that one day,
All of them will be counting zeroes like me,
Because once they die away,
Their estates will grab all of the money,
And the properties; meanwhile the exquisite women
Will shed tears the same way,
The turkeys frown in the heat of the oven.
The last time, I looked at my checking account,
I said quietly to myself, “Let the jerks count.”
Copyright@ February 2022, Hebert Logerie All Rights Reseved
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job
Tonight I went out Swinging for the very first time
Now the title has grabbed your attention – I hope you will read my rhyme!
Tonight I went to hear The Manx Swing Band
The best musicians throughout the land
Don Elliot and Terry Quayle have been members right from the start
Forty years in the band - they have never been apart
Classic swing tracks we all love to hear
In the interval you can even have a beer
Fabulous melodies and tunes from many years ago
With saxophones swinging gently to and fro
We began with ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’
As soon as I heard it I was tapping my little feet
Begin the Beguine drifted gently from the stage
In 1938 this song was all the rage
Over the Rainbow – oh what a beautiful song
When they played this track I just wanted to sing along
Moon River brought a tear to my eye
It’s a favourite of mine and even now it makes me cry
Moonlight Serenade and In the Mood by the fantastic Glen Miller
American Parade and Little Brown Jug, sure were a crowd thriller
A medley of Beatles songs and then some James Bond Themes
Such wonderful music I shall hear it in my dreams
New York New York chords swiftly came along
The band can’t resist playing a great Sinatra song
Next was Duke Ellington’s Take The A Train
Now I’ve heard that tune I can’t get it out my brain
I am sure that you can see I’ve had the most amazing night
If I told my mum I’d gone ‘Swinging’ she may get a dreadful fright
When you see this poem's title please don’t get it into your head
That something I put in black and white means I’m jumping into bed!
Jan Allison
16th March 2014