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"
Our Nordic God run roughshod by the cynics
Mimics all those skeptics & pundits in pulpits
Sod odd bod critics clinics their unfair optics
Hysterics but Bazball clerics are not yet relics
Despite batting lapse alright collapse specifics
The insult not horrific result of cult’s gimmicks
Got it wrong will still sing same mesmeric song lyrics
Twits witticisms & criticisms taken a toll…troll gits
Shaken has Bazball forsaken its soul..drole misfits
No more stealth or self control just abysmal skits
Dismal death roll rigmarole gambits whole Bazball in bits?
On the dole or run rate wealth in rude health call it quits
Flits their way to play their flair hits as prole media spits
Grandstand Baz Ben stable fable big band brand label fits
Aussies canned.. gawking Larrikin ti*s balking..its the pits
Goal corking victory at the Gabba hoodoo fortress venue
Folks blabber talking of Stokes blokes stalking voodoo
Oz jibber jabber fibber distress as we made history..phew
Yes JuJu mystery temptress played express Yabba Dabba Doo!
Who was only one inch tall,
raised in a lab since he was, well...small,
doped on phenobarbital,
escaping o'er his prison wall.
Tell me friend, can you recall
King Mouse?
Who lived in a tidy little hole,
knew when the cat was on patrol?
Though cheese and crumbs he stole,
he never lived on the dole.
Let's sing praise and extoll
King Mouse!
Who was diminutive in size,
told the truth and never lied,
had big ears but never spied,
nor squealed, just squeaked and sighed?
All expectations he defied -
King Mouse!
His body small, his soul immense,
big ears heard every offence,
and you, who wanted to dispense,
are now awash with penitence,
as you consider recompense
for King Mouse.
Who knew the secrets that we kept,
never told, just cried and wept,
before he laid on the floor and slept?
At discretion he was adept.
You struck him with the broom while you swept -
King Mouse.
The coo of a mournful mourning dove
reminds us of the guy in the sky above
who we wouldn't touch without a glove.
But now as push comes to shove,
we realize we really love
King Mouse!
Trump I-Fucation
Flickering beacon of light.
Red core inflamed.
Elites on the dole.
Narcissists
Me Trumps We.
Fraud:
Ace in the Hole.
GOP Rats pilfer the hold.
Viral blight dissembles.
Emperor fiddles
While chaos reigns.
Diagnosis: Deep Vain Trumposis.
Systemic Sclerosis.
Democracy Desecrated,
Pandora’s lost hope!
Copyright@Mel Gill 2023
Never felt like a toad hopping along the road,
Nor have I suffered like God's servant Job.
Never have I been deprived of a humble abode,
Nor have I ever been denied warmth from the cold.
But I understand the meaning of a troubled soul
as well as treasured things more precious than gold.
Have you experienced the quaking of your own heart
and felt the chills and shaking of your aching soul?
I've imagined the pain of many a mortal on the dole,
and often measure the deceitfulness of my own heart,
realizing I must lead and not follow my heart.
Yes, I understand the meaning of a troubled soul
and have observed dying souls long before they grew old,
but also witnessed many rescued before their bell's toll.
Knowing the imperfections of my heart as it often fails God's
standards, may I reframe from the judgment of others.
Yes, I understand the meaning of a troubled soul
as well as remedies to any and all before they fold.
'Looking up' ignites the flame to fulfill our assigned role.
Touch another soul and watch your own soul be made whole.
There's no better time to share the greatest story ever told.
120823PS
Written 27 July 2023
For a Triolet Poetry Contest
Compassionate Souls
Let there be no dearth of compassionate souls
To serve as instruments of the Supreme Lord.
Would He spread His mercy to mankind as a whole,
Bring relief to those in need as their goal,
Allay the yoke of those who live but on the dole
And a decent meal a day cannot afford;
Let there be no dearth of compassionate souls
To serve as instruments of the Supreme Lord.
I’m bad tempered and upset,
Feeling tired isolated alone
Sitting hopefully waiting for
Someone to answer the phone .
I just want to hear
A normal human voice
But these days my dears
You don’t get a choice.
Androgynous, emotionless
It’s going off again
Promising an answer but
Never saying when,
Any second now and we
Know what it will say,
Your call is important
Please don’t go away.
When somebody invented
Automatic answer machine
Life got more complicated
Than it had ever been
Then the multi choice options
To save wasting their time
But they just don’t bother
About them wasting mine.
There used to switchboards
With real people to call,
Probably shoved out on the dole,
Machines don’t need wages at all.
The inventor of this obscenity
Is over the seas living in style
A successful and much lauded
Multi faceted rain and tax exile.
All I can say is,
Enjoy it while you can.
One day you may meet
One very angry man
Who’s spent ages feeling
Isolated and all on his own
As he’s waited and waited
To be answered on the phone
Every doggie has,
In time, their day
And, oh brother may be mine
To make him slowly pay.
Johnny Depp was playing a role
That his wife would never console
He took her to court
And will not abort
'til one or both are on the dole!
When an horse stepped into an hole
A cowboy was dumped on the dole
He sat in his saddle
Just rowing a paddle
Because work was never his goal
Army cooks don't do anything wrong
By feeding a "Mad Killer" throng
& that's rather droll
Like a troll on the dole
Who freaks out on a Viet Cong dong
I met a girl quite bonny
Downtown in Pukalani
Her "Heavenly Hole"
Fits men on the dole
And Presidents like Donny . . . ..
Back to my Roots
I returned home to see my folks
After being away too long
Found my way back to my family home
But everyone was gone
Where has everybody gone?
My family and my friends
I needed to come home
I needed to make amends
I drove past the factories
Where my ancestors worked nights
They were deserted and ramshackled
Surrounded by building sites
I looked through a broken window
And was amazed by what I'd seen
My late Grandfathers overcoat
Still draped over his machine
The birthplace of my friends
And their parents long before
Had been replaced by high-rise tower blocks
Floor upon floor upon floor
All the old shops replaced by a shopping mall
Old houses replaced by council estates
Lifelong workers now on the dole
The government blind to their fates
I feel so out of place
And my mind is filled with fear
My hometown is no longer familiar
Why did I come back here?
Dan's on the mezzanine
asking where the mayor lives
I'm on the dole line,
wondrin bout conservatives
The man with the leg cramps
boot camps wheel clamps
says they cut his food stamps.
Look out son,
he’s packin a gun:
God knows why
Pat Boone, full moon
someone's gonna die soon.
Del's on welfare,
Donald Trump is real pissed:
give 'em all health care?
What are we? Socialists?
Thinks I'm Harry Lime:
street crime, sub-prime,
now you're working part-time.
Look out boy,
you're only a goy:
don't revere teachers,
don't obey no preachers.
Jen's on Fox News
talkin bout the bank crash
wanna get some real views?
What about the trailer trash?
Read about Goldilocks
Botox bobbysocks
modelled by Amanda Knox.
Look out, Joe,
you're spoiling the show.
Don't watch features,
don't dance in the bleachers.
Get hired, get fired,
get rich, get stitched,
get tired, get wired,
get hitched, get ditched.
They got the cops at backstop,
Al Gore keeping score
'tween the Poors
and Dirt-Poors,
'tween the Haves
and Have-Mores.
John Wayne's vanished.
He's off to learn Spanish.
Empowering the indolent,
the fox is now inside
The vermin on the loose,
the truth now plagued by lies
The takers stalk the givers,
those on the dole now scream
“We want what you have worked for,
—the fruit without the tree”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
I sit here wondering
What to say
My words exhausted
Throughout the day
The kids they ask me
What have I done
Hows my day gone
Have I had fun
To this my reply
Its always the same
Been down the dole
Passed the day in vain
After working
All my life to date
I never thought
OF this my fate
It makes you think
What its all been for
Stuck on the dole
At forty four
I used to see them
Hanging around
Layabouts,scum
There's work to be found
But now I find
I,m in there place
Being out of work
Is no disgrace
It hurts you when
You truly know,At my time of life
No one wants to know,
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