The Devil went up to Georgia
In search of Lucrezia Borgia
His thoughts were obscene
But she was plain mean,
"Georgia just wants to disgorge yuh!"
Categories:
lucrezia borgia, political,
Form: Limerick
...inspired by 'A Cooking Egg' by T.S. Eliot
Ronaldo sprawled in luxury
across from where the spaniel lay,
he soldiered on with Mallarme
and, yawning, re-read Chapter One.
The Grandfather ticked ponderously,
there was no other sound in sight
except dear Josephine who plonked
and murdered dear Stravinsky's Rite.
Boredom was the day's absorption
with the National Election,
who shall be our next Great Leader?
pray not a hopeless interceder!
Clementine declared, 'the weather
seems to be a bit inclement,
what shall I wear to Blanche's soiree,
burgundy, or pearly grey?'
Ronaldo trifled with religion,
'Heaven doesn't need a poet
who maligns the Holy Spirit,
I am going straight to Hell,
where I'll meet Lucrezia Borgia,
who will toy with my affections,
feed me fabulous confections,
as she plots my own demise.
Nobility has late escaped me,
suburbanites are out to scold me,
gentle is as gentle does
is not the same as it once was.
Categories:
lucrezia borgia, dedication, writing,
Form: Verse
In the style of T.S. Eliot.
*******
Ronaldo sprawled in luxury
across from where the spaniel lay,
pretending to read Mallarme
and yawning, stuck in Chapter One.
The Grandfather ticked heavily,
there was no other sound in sight
except dear Josephine who plonked
and murdered dear Stravinsky's Rite.
Boredom, and the day's absorption
with the National Election,
who shall be our next Great Leader?
pray not some hapless interceder!
Clementine declared,
"the weather is a bit inclement,
what to wear for Blanche's soiree,
burgundy, or pearly grey?"
Ronaldo trifled with religion,
"Heaven doesn't need a poet
who maligns the Holy Spirit,
I am going straight to Hell,
where I'll meet Lucrezia Borgia,
who will toy with my affections,
feed me fabulous confections,
poisonous, my second death."
Nobility has late escaped us,
suburbanites are out to scold us,
gentle is as gentle does
is not the same as it once was.
We're outcasts in a sea of trouble,
cucumber sandwiches and quince
have disappeared in all the rubble,
what price pomp and circumstance?
Categories:
lucrezia borgia, tribute, writing,
Form: Verse
In the style of T.S. Eliot.
*******
Ronaldo sprawled in luxury
across from where the spaniel lay,
pretending to read Mallarme
and yawning, stuck in Chapter One.
The Grandfather ticked heavily,
there was no other sound in sight
except dear Josephine who plonked
and murdered dear Stravinsky's Rite.
Boredom, and the day's absorption
with the National Election,
who shall be our next Great Leader?
pray not some hapless interceder!
Clementine declared,
"the weather is a bit inclement,
what to wear for Blanche's soiree,
burgundy, or pearly grey?"
Ronaldo trifled with religion,
"Heaven doesn't need a poet
who maligns the Holy Spirit,
I am going straight to Hell,
where I'll meet Lucrezia Borgia,
who will toy with my affections,
feed me fabulous confections,
poisonous, my second death."
Nobility has late escaped us,
suburbanites are out to scold us,
gentle is as gentle does
is not the same as it once was.
We're outcasts in a sea of trouble,
cucumber sandwiches and quince
have disappeared in all the rubble,
what price pomp and circumstance?
Categories:
lucrezia borgia, tribute, writing,
Form: Verse
...inspired by 'A Cooking Egg' by T.S. Eliot
Ronaldo sprawled in luxury
across from where the spaniel lay,
he soldiered on with Mallarme
and, yawning, re-read Chapter One.
The Grandfather ticked ponderously,
there was no other sound in sight
except dear Josephine who plonked
and murdered dear Stravinsky's Rite.
Boredom was the day's absorption
with the National Election,
who shall be our next Great Leader?
pray not a hopeless interceder!
Clementine declared, 'the weather
seems to be a bit inclement,
what shall I wear to Blanche's soiree,
burgundy, or pearly grey?'
Ronaldo trifled with religion,
'Heaven doesn't need a poet
who maligns the Holy Spirit,
I am going straight to Hell,
where I'll meet Lucrezia Borgia,
who will toy with my affections,
feed me fabulous confections,
as she plots my own demise.
Nobility has late escaped me,
suburbanites are out to scold me,
gentle is as gentle does
is not the same as it once was.
Categories:
lucrezia borgia, on writing and words,
Form: Quatrain
...inspired by 'A Cooking Egg' by T.S. Eliot
Ronaldo sprawled in luxury
across from where the spaniel lay,
pretending to read Mallarme
and yawning, stuck in Chapter One.
The Grandfather ticked ponderously,
there was no other sound in sight
except dear Josephine who plonked
and murdered dear Stravinsky's Rite.
Boredom was the day's absorption
with the National Election,
who shall be our next Great Leader?
pray not a hopeless interceder!
Clementine declared, 'the weather
seems to be a bit inclement,
what shall I wear to Blanche's soiree,
burgundy, or pearly grey?'
Ronaldo trifled with religion,
'Heaven doesn't need a poet
who maligns the Holy Spirit,
I am going straight to Hell,
where I'll meet Lucrezia Borgia,
who will toy with my affections,
feed me fabulous confections,
as she plots my second death.
Nobility has late escaped me,
suburbanites are out to scold me,
gentle is as gentle does
is not the same as it once was.
We're outcasts in a sea of trouble,
cucumber sandwiches and quince
have disappeared in all the rubble,
what of pomp and circumstance?'
Categories:
lucrezia borgia, on writing and words
Form: Quatrain