making marriage vows
forever they declared
their love would last
until they scratched to death
their seven-year itch
I'm the one but I wasn't always me
Nothing there that I wanted to see
Living in smoke filled haze
Traveling through life in a daze
Tomorrow come what may
Trying to watch what I say
Getting by day to day
Time passing before my eyes
As the tear drops and dries
So many tomorrows have came and went
Any smile seemed heaven sent
Things change so much that they stay the same
What would you do to stay in the game
Stuck somewhere between the tick and the tock
Lies the heartbeat beating like a clock
Steady I go as I stumble along
Sure of my way but I'm usauly wrong
Hope nobody knows that I don't care
Sitting here in a brand new broken down chair
Have no money but I'm so rich
Cant quite scratch that seven year itch
Sitting here naked in my old blue jeans turned white
The days just began as it turns into the night
Standing up straight as I crawl my way on home
From an empty glass I blow off the foam
Last call has done came and went
All the money I didnt have, I spent
its such a haze
Living in a daze
how was it for you
would’ve been much better ~ with
marilyn monroe
By
David kavanagh
Sassy Lady
A blond bombshell beauty,
Sensual cornflower blue eyes
That dropped men to their knees
I watched that
Sassy lady one night
On the southwest corner
Of Lexington Avenue
And 52nd street
In a white dress
I listen to the
Click, click, click
As she walks by
In high heels
Mesmerized
With the sway of her sexy hips
As she turns and walks away
With a glimmering
Spark in her eye
I can read her mind
To her surprise
Over a subway grate
Her dress is blown upward
With the blast of warm air
Embarrassed
She turns back
Looks my direction
With a playful flirtation
My excitement arouses
3/7/2020
'Your Favorite Legend ' Contest
Sponsored By:Chantelle Anne Cooke
Marilyn Monroe
American Actress
popular sex symbols of the 1950s and early 1960s
Lived: Jun 01, 1926 - Aug 05, 1962 (age 36)
The film; The Seven Year Itch,
Hearing an approaching subway train, Monroe stepped onto the grate, having her skirt blown high by the train passing underneath, saying “ooh do you feel the breeze from the subway, isn’t it delicious.” Minds across the country were simultaneously blown.
A married couple now scratch the seven-year itch
Their days of wine and roses have waxed and waned
The honeymoon's over. Love, no longer at a fever pitch
A married couple now scratch the seven-year itch
The spark is gone; their chemistry, down the ditch
Though they put up a fight, no ground was gained
A married couple now scratch the seven-year itch
Their days of wine and roses have waxed and waned
BRIAN'S CHOICE 10,any form,any theme
Contest Judged: 5/30/2020 (Winner: 3rd Place)
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date written and posted: 02/24/2019
Life of loneliness; life all full of pain
No fine man notices me; they all abstain
I feel invisible from NYC to Ukraine
Cry, My Beloved Rebecca
I yearn to be found by my Knight In Shining Armour
He is a real Don Juan; a true romantic charmer
He is a protector; he never will harm her
Cry, My Beloved Rebecca
I date for now a guy; but being The One he may not be
After the Seven Year Itch, I fear he may flee
My True One will rescue me from my Life Of Purgatory
Cry, My Beloved Rebecca
I wish I knew he heard my cry of sorrow
Will he ever rescue me soon; maybe tomorrow
He must climb steep hills to get me, even Kilimanjaro
Cry, My Beloved Rebecca
I know he hears my violin voice faint cries
Come for me, Come for me; I am the Grand Prize
I know he is coming... coming tomorrow; not a fantasize
Cry, My Beloved Rebecca
...and I want to start all my sentences with
the taste of his tongue.
I find him locked inside my rib cage
leaning softly against my heart
smoking a stogie and strumming bones,
where every thought of him is a losing
battle between good and evil that
I just don't truly want to win.
A garden of mist dripped wisteria
and criminal desire to cross all the
wrong borders to nymphet hysteria.
I'm afraid it might hurt a little,
this promise to make me a woman
again...
engrave his name on my spine
with a lovers knot of whispering pine
a seven year itch into ivy climb.
I want to know the sure feel of his lips
on mine...splashed on all the inner
walls of his surrender.
A BRIDE A GROOM WITH ROOM TO ASSUME
All of us inhabit a restrictive rectangular room
Believing love is most assuredly what we all assume
Cubicles with questions as wallpaper and errors are a rug
And that’s when an obviated obsession becomes a lethal drug
Love is this or love is that
Love too oft becomes old hat
You do that and I’ll do this
Yet born is boredom with every kiss
Missionary becomes a mission of mind
Oh heavens no, nay from behind
Marriage means missionary and not much more
As both partners are chafed by chagrin for such a mindless chore
Up and down, then in and out
What the hell is this all about?
In and out, then up and down
And that’s when the word “f*ck” becomes a noun
Two car garage and garbage midst trash
No seven year itch, it’s rather a rash
And there stands a bride with her white-tailed groom
Both believing love is just what they assume
© 2012…copyright PHREEPOETREE ..~free cee!~
Enjoying an appealing repartee
Over scones and a cup of tea
Belching whilst cooking
Avoiding chronic particles from choking
Comradeship amongst landed gentry and friends
It all makes faultless sense
Avoiding topics that’s nonsensical
Keeping a lid on emotions and remaining sensible
Being sensuously sociable
Status eminent and unreachable
It is nonetheless within pulpit reach
Spattered with a seven year itch
A contentious immoral pair
Culminating in an indelible affair
Relationship commencing from spontaneity
Both relenting with reciprocity
Inappropriate association stifling me
Loathing of perversity for all to see
Probing the other with a stolen glance
Guard down devoid of a lance
Facilitating a rendezvous
Gathering a result of a woo
Deeper drawn into the abyss in vain
Inglorious fall from grace of the luscious moral fountain
One part of the source
Neither one being remorseful
Subsequently asked for divorce
The indignant feeling pitiful
Both caught in shameless tryst
In the presence of taut vice
The spilling of the sauce
There shall now be no more recourse
A Slow drift in warm, slimy, stagnate waters that is what we have become.
He comes in the door and doesn't speak daily; He never asks me how I am.
His only response is no....
Just a touch in all the right time and places would mean so much.
The seven year itch has a hold on me accompanied by severe sadness that no pill
can hide.
Losing long time neighbors often has my clock ticking noticably by me.
Sickness and aging has a deep sadness gripping my heart. I know to hold on to
hope and make the day a blessing. Overwhelming pain takes my happy places.
Tomorrow......there is hope!
On a ship of Fools she has gone with the Wind
Titanic’s sinking Christmas in Connecticut
Chained and Possessed by this Sudden Fear
The Heiress in this our life is in a cage
A stolen life by the old maid
Mr. Skeffington is waiting for the Marked Woman
In a lonely place in Casablanca are Angels with dirty faces
From Key Largo to Raintree County you just put your lips together and blow
Sing and dance Carmen Jones
Pray for your lover from the Cabin in the sky
When the man comes to dinner meet him at the showboat of your heart
A muletto is Imitating life
The love letter from the indiscretion’s of an American wife
After the seven year itch
The prince and the showgirl are waiting
To make love
Broken blossoms inherit the wind
The birth of a nation
Silences our intolerance
And now is the Scarlet Letter
Modern times reflect the kid
Mosier Verdox is the king in New York
A Woman in Paris waits by the City Lights
For The Great Dictator
Hushing Charlotte, Baby Jane, Aunt Alice they know your game
Fear, love, laughter or horror in this land of make believe.
The cackling woman digs your grave
Thank the original for all you enjoy!
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