Long The english Poems
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Myrtle Parker
Myrtle Parker lived on the Riviera,
That’s the English one not the French.
Her favourite tipple is Red Currant Cider,
Only beverage her thirst would quench.
Never did she marry no husband,
Preference for life single and free,
Though kept two doggy companions,
Twin Westies, Florence and Zebedee.
Miss Parker was a gatherer and hoarder,
Antiques, curios, lots of impractical tat.
Her catchphrase was somewhat familiar,
“I‘ll find a good use for that.”
Tumbledown Cottage name on the gate,
Aptly called for badly required repair.
The man from Devonshire Council,
Shakes his head in anguished despair.
Oh, dear Myrtle what are we to do,
I cannot see the wood for the trees,
Environment Officer is calling today,
He doesn’t like cockroach and fleas.
Myrtle lives close to Muscle shell beach,
Small cove of shingle and coarse sand,
Opposite the Cat protection league,
Where she buys new clothes second hand.
One summer had a house full of Kittens,
That grew into fully grown cats.
They left her in search of new comforts,
Plagued by visits of large rodent rats.
Myrtle decided on a radical clear out,
To make way for a new feather bed,
But could not let go of her treasures,
So continued sleeping on the sofa instead.
Seventy years old, obstinate and proud,
Devon Council man returned to her door.
“This house is making you poorly my dear,
Regretfully you cannot live here anymore.
Oh, dear Myrtle here’s what we’ll do,
Move you into a comfy town flat,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Condemn your cottage, so sorry about that.
Myrtle Parker was born in this house,
Her father he worked on the boats,
Mother stayed home baking bread,
From freshly ground buckwheat groats.
Tumbledown cottage is full of memories,
Though can’t find many for the clutter.
Diminutive rooms two up two down,
Walls dampened by broken pipe gutter.
If I have to go then take me in a box,
She chained herself to the newel post.
I’ll defend my rights for all I’m worth,
Then haunt Council man as his ghost.
Council man arrives excited with keys,
For Miss Parkers new urban home,
But Myrtle had been true to her word,
and perished on the staircase all alone.
Oh, dear Myrtle what have you done,
Your new flat was shiny and clean,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Demolition boss with bulldozer team.
When I was 16 years old, I walked into the English class on the first day of school of a new year. I’d been waiting through the long hours of Economics, of Chemistry, of Physics to get to English class, the subject I loved most.
My teacher stood in front of us and explained that we’ll be studying the theme "Coming of Age" – the transition from childhood to adulthood. We were going to read many different novels that tell this story in diverse ways, and as we read, we’ll discover the universal themes across diverse accounts of this rite of passage.”
Then he told us about the books we were going to read – Lord of the Flies, Black Boy, A Separate Peace… I noticed something odd: none were written by women and none were about a girl coming of age. I knew it wasn’t right for a classroom of girls and boys to only read stories about boys.
But what was most remarkable about that day was this: I felt a strange surge of energy. It wasn’t anger – it was more like momentum, vitality, passion. It came with a feeling of “I’m going to do something about this.”
At the time, I was a little lost – in teenage rebellion, in hating my body, in being bored with high school. Suddenly, I wasn’t bored, or lost or hating. I was excited about something. I was working toward something.
Years later I turned out to be a biology teacher even without attending any teaching school or training.
And used the opportunity to enlighten lots of female students on maturity (the transition from childhood to adolescense and to adulthood) and several female related issues that wasn't in any textbook nor in the curriculum.
Today I might not be a very rich man but I am a fulfilled man. I am fulfilled because I know deep down that I have made an impact in the lives of several females out there.
So whatever is that drive, that burning passion inside of you, that push to make a positive difference, to contribute to humanity, I just want to tell you "don't give up on it. It's only a matter of time"
Together if we all put in our little effort, we can make a huge difference.
So whatever field u find yourself, be it entertainment, music, acting, poem writing, YouTuber, blogger, teacher, student or parents, let's all join hands to make the world a better place. All it takes is for you to use your field to make positive impacts.
#POETICLORD#
(c) JANUARY 2019.
(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
Peppie was feeling cool
Watching the sky blue
Realizing he was on top
Above good ole rival Klopp
When Chelsea arrived
To the beehive
With intention
For a conversation about the detention
That should be mentioned
Getting attention
In the Daily Mail
Telling the story how Chelsea was nailed
“Our new fourth member
Pulled something this first weekend in December
Put a whammy
Using the Western Hammy
Trapping me in third
Finding out nothing is insured,”
Laughing Peppie continued enjoying feeding on the honey
Thinking what happened ‘was ever so funny’
“You wore yellow
A Mellow
Merchandising seller,”
Peppie replied
Knowing Chelsea tried
“Well, you were in white
For your bee buzzing fight
That was a bore and never tight!”
In another place
Klopp was building his case
Returning from battle
Protecting his cattle
Wolves on the attack
Working like a pack
Nil Nil to the end
Following a goal scripted by an athletic pen
Klopp was able to defend
Success!!
In the test
Not feeling alone
Having a civil tone
Approaching the two
Noting no one wearing blue
Pondering something was starting to brew
“First and third
Haven’t you heard,”
Peppie spoke the word
“I did some checking
No longer first instead second”
Klopp said
Impersonating a bridesmaid wanting to wed
But due to debt
Had to wear red
Chelsea gave a look
Like after reading a good chapter in a book
“You are lucky to be in front of me
You should be in spot number three,”
She did shrug
Still needing a hug
“About this West Ham
Who created the one-point jam?”
They all started to wonder
About the lunchtime blunder
“Are these Hammers for real?
Or just Londoners asking deal or no deal?”
As the trio checked their list twice
Being border protective and nice
“Should we let them in?
To our elite circle of win?”
Chelsea started the rebuttal
Noting they had this entertaining bubble
Creating trouble
On the table
Winding around the English Premiere fable
Where only one takes it all
Declaring the champion playing futbol
I always hated water,
being in the middle of nowhere,
but it was the only way to be with you..
Now,
I'm helpless, my fingers trembling,
lips quivering, eyes full of tears,
as this ship sinks, inch by inch.
I write what are my last words,
as the stench of fear,
slowly fills the bitter air.
I'm so scared.
I can see lifeboats over loaded with the 'privileged',
their aura in a state of shock, but so sullen.
Not all children have escaped, not all children!!!
How is that fair??
Some have jumped into the sea,
desperate to survive,
but its too cold.... It's freezing.
I'm just going to accept there is no escape.
I don't know if I'm a coward or being brave,
but I refuse to go up to the deck.
This room is now my tomb.
The violinist won't stop playing,
his music, so eerie,
as we face our fate.
The captain said;
"Even God could not sink this ship."
But you can't cheat God..
I see him crying in the corner,
ready to decay into death -
such a pathetic man.
There are brief screams of
"Help!"
but then only a haunting silence.
I think about my mum
tell her, I love her and I'm so, so sorry,
for I left her behind to follow my dreams,
where I thought I would find heaven,
but now seem bound into the unknown..
I had left the English shores,
to be in your arms my sweetheart..
So many hopes, so many promises
to be together... Forever,
to touch and caress your soft skin
and to place this gold ring on your finger,
dreams of children, places we would see,
food we would eat, poetry we would recite,
starry nights and sweet sunsets,
now slowly fade away...
I can see your face,
your almond eyes, your scarlet lips,
your hand reaching out to me...
An enchanting last mirage.
I'm so sorry my love,
so, so, sorry,
to leave you this way,
life can be so cruel,
but remember me,
please don't forget me,
you were my only treasure
I just wish I could have kissed you one more time...
but God has deprived that from me...
Please don't mourn for me,
but cherish our memories,
be happy and live your life,
find love, have children and
travel the world..
At least, I will not live in regret.
I write my last words with my last breath,
as I begin to feel numb,
I will place my hands together and repent...
This is my goodbye to the world.
My Lark, whom I plucked in the Dark
Alouette, gentille alouette
Aloutte, je te plumerai
Alouette(a) we are all a wetta
Alouette(a) I will pluck you dry
Pluck you dry, pluck you dry
Ben oui, mais ben oui, lets look to the sky
Alouette(a), gently let me caress you
Alouette(a), these words make us wetta
Je te plumerai le bec
Je te plumerai le bec
And a kiss
And a kiss
More more kiss
Alouette, let me kiss you oh my my
I will look you in the eyes
Avec un bec
Je suis un mec
Alouetta, let me make you wetta
Alouetta, let me hold you near
I will pluck your wings you hear?
Just to keep you close and near
Alouetta, let me keep you here my dear
And you legs
And your neck
And you your eyes
Alouetta, I caress your coeur so red
Alouette, my love will make you wetta
Et le cœur
Et le bouche
Et les ailes
Alouetta, je te donne un bec(a)
Alouetta, je te plumerai
Alouette, je suis un beau mec (a)
Alouette, je te donne un grand bec(a)!!!!
Svp, Svp
Alouette I will make you wetta
Alouette I will make you mine!!!!
Notes and Physiologists notes!
Ok LOL where to start
Alouette is a Lark in English
"Alouette" is a popular French Canadian children's song about plucking the feathers from a lark, in retribution for being woken up by its song. Although it is in French, it is well-known among speakers of other languages
I of course used many play on words to turn this into a lyrical naughty love verse based on the song. Not only did I intermingle French and English, but some of the play on words apply, even only in French. I know many will not understand the French, however the English language is universally used for the very reason that is does incorporate so many words from other languages. Anytime you bring ideas together, you are uniting rather than dividing, a theme in many of my poems.
Alouette = Lark, I misspelled it sometimes as Alouetta as that’s more how you would pronounce the word in English.
Je te plumerai = I will pluck you
Bec = beak in English, but in French can also mean a kiss
Ben = is closer to how the Quebecois accent would sound
Mec = boyfriend a term more used in France
Svp = abbr for “please”
Some words I spelled phonetically for those with cell phones.
Do I really need to explain “wet-ta” ? LOL
.
amin
amine (i'm losing it people...lol; it's pronounced amin)
lin
line(can one imagine, english lit teacherz, instructing their students to draw a 'lin', down the center uv their note pads) that's right, i spelled it lin, instead
uv line <-long "i"
spin
spine(or, can i take the car for a spine)
win
wine(i'm thirsty, may i have the flask uv win) <- ;)
pin
pine (i'm the cultivator uv pin nuts)
feminin<--- that's nin
feminine<-that's nine, long "i"
i speak english precious readerz, i'm still unto this day, confused with the english vocabulary, and i can't be coxed into believing, that the third syllable
in feminine, iz not pronounced "nine"<-long "i"
fem-i-nine. short i's are pronounced "i" az in, it
long i's are pronounced "i" az in, 'I' belong to her (did ;)
Iodine, turpentine...thank Yahweh i do, in
Yeshua's name, for; "poetic license", whut would i do dear poets!
Therefore, for those who indulge mine writes, know that...
"james' "feminine" iz pronounced, "fem-i-nine" az in #'9'
i should have shared this, long ago....much luv, me ;)
"This Spring"
spoke i
to
mine feminine
whom
mine feminine
"would marriage
cause yourn sing"
"cross the t's
and dot the i's"
'fore i close for the night
mine eyne"
"yes"
said shez
"yes
yes"
"it's yes"
"it's yes"
And off went
theirn green
mine Winter dreamz
dream after dream
after dream
;)
I will never forget my ex wife telling me that
... everything was wrong and everything was my fault ...
‘I won’t tell you what because you must find out yourself’
My world broke into two pieces or was it a million more
Countless days of self trial doom and imminent failure
My home had been my castle and now it had collapsed
A charade cynical travesty and ploy out of the blue
The sky hung with sorrow and dark clouds of despair
A cunning pretense of masqueraded intention and plot
All acts in one and emotion picking at incomprehension
I felt like a pawn in a chess game I never intended to play
Faced with loosing all I had and very poorly equipped
I looked at many a rule guides self-help had on offer
Consulted a myriad of experts took tablets and drank
Only to find out that only I held the keys to my fortune
My dungeon had a trap door and that was rock bottom
Deep down in stagnant doldrums of stark void and oblivion
Was a book I never read about fighting windmills in Spain and
A few chess pieces and I was the donkey not set for the game
My ex was more into horses more precious to her than I was
A childhood memory appeared out of nowhere about a ‘rochade’
Castling as the English say in which the King needs protection
From a belligerent Queen seeking victory with blood on hands
The Rook needed repositioning for me to survive the assault
Tarot’s danger with crisis destruction and unforeseen change
It took a lot of abuse and disrespect for me to find liberation
But change of perspective and relocation assembled my strength
I found a new Princess an emotional creature of passion and play
Bright as they come and caring kind compassionate and loving
We do pirouettes together unbridled spurred on by the moment
No reigns no whip and no saddle we are running wild as a pair
The King was dead and now he lives better than ever before
Her name is Tanya literally the Fairy Queen and her gypsy like
Magic comes attached with bells whistles and lavender scent
We collect drift wood and star fish together on sandy beaches
Built a mansion of intricate dreams so full of wonder and joy
Married our vision for so many moments I will never forget ...
A cold and wet morning broke in the dreary month of November
Water glistening on the ground, a gift from the English weather
With such a smothering grey blanket rolling across the sky
My spirit managed to keep me warm as my spirits were high
An angel sent me a message, beaming through the clouds so grey
An invitation to take her hand and join her on this day
On a journey to a sky filled place full of winter wonderment
On taking her hand and I know that she is truly heaven sent
We travel the grey ribbon through the cold and wintery air
Wet fields and valleys just pass by in a blur
The questing fingers of both the wind and rain
Were resisting our passing but our smiles remain
Crossing rain swollen rivers brown and bursting their seams
Forming tree dotted mirrors just like my beautiful dreams
We fly hand in hand through the mist, through the miles
As I fall into her eyes I'm warmed by her smiles
Our destination approaches a warm and colourful retreat
We are greeted with smiles and yet more angels I meet
We dance and we capered to the tunes that she chose
With a warmth deep inside and a wide smile that glows
We moved to the streets and danced through winter crowds
The light of these angels simply parted the clouds
With the beat sounding behind and the frost just in ahead
We danced and we spun 'til we were ready for bed
Back in the warmth and the colour of the angels retreat
I was curled with my angel upon the soft seat
Resting from a day filled with mirth and with joy
Never has there been a more joy filled boy
The sun lost its fight and slowly slides to the ground
We said our goodbyes to the new angel friends found
Taking to the wing hand in hand we took flight
We were homeward bound through a cold and dead night
An orange ribbon our guide through a land of purple and black
We followed it blindly and thus we took the wrong track
Another little adventure through lands never before seen
Having such fun in the places we’d never before been
Descending from on high our feet touch the fields of home
Smiling and warm both wondering when we will next roam
She left this feeling inside me and I know it was sent from above
These butterflies can't escape from me because I know I'm in love.
I only be looking down now, looking inside myself now,
not head set in defeat but reflection, not the thoughts but the actual events that happened, wild flower child, yea right boom boy im a power plant, a quater-back serving audibles, wide-receivers run em in slants, run deep, swapping the rythym up, call it skill or pronounce them fiery darts of the devil, replay read a lot of fake words, deploy nothing but truths that carry troops, dead-zone drop-off swing wide scrape the danger, winged right there then, repairs upmost respected like I have a strong command of the english langauge, a strong sense of honor, PoW's plenty of wise men, plenty that u couldnt challenge on the battlefield, u better be ready to die when you walk in their battallion, Feel the valance the stealth, feel nothing feel what you feel wether its false politics American Goverment, I dont condemn my country, American people be the damn blindest, conditionally unseasoned , refutedly would he die in that war man? Well im a black speck in his eyes dying where ever it dont make a ****, you think a soldier gives a damn about being remembered, nah its about fighting your hardest, living longer, having your friends back, perfecting that last love letter, asking God for guidance, as waiting for it, Command given stretch the ammunition, permissions only to use your intuition, now i put a disatant on that idea's be balanced if you spot it u got it, six strikes 3 terrible battle plans, instructions be on a good heart. we life size- we realize it. we competition cams with a lope pulling deeper compression, true intentions blow up in your mind like mushroom clouds, like the repurcussion was a blast to the laws broken in an accident, cheap shells cheap never be Blaine c cheap s sweetlies b bashing breaking *****es, bullstrong. balls with the brillance, beautiful blows, brainstorming, bulls of bashan beaware the wheel of furtune turns quick ask me I slip out simple vibes I be on top soon. blanks broken hollypoints I keep one jax in the chamber, Bang baby I still hit hard with the power, bang *****es blaine me, can u blame me? Straight and narrow , not like in a false form, warfront back on a warhorse, back on the foremost thoughts of a man with a decision to make..
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