Short Bourgeoisie Poems

Franz Xavier Winterhalter
with lithographics made a stir
He captured self image i the main
of the bourgeoisie so often  vain...

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Simple thing and ordinary people
   most are humble and discreet
they don't have the rude, pompous
 false charm of the bourgeoisie......

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Two giraffes decided to see
what the English have for their tea.
They stuck in their necks,
and each of them checks,
then ruled it was too bourgeoisie....

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Know this guy well because it's me
 A writer of fun poems, I wear a goatee
Appreciate the accolades
You guys I'll never trade
You're the greatest bunch of bourgeoisie...

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Know this guy well because it's me
A writer of fun poems, I wear a goatee
Appreciate the accolades
You guys I'll never trade
You're the greatest bunch of bourgeoisie


© Jack Ellison 2015...

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Apparently
I am jailed in the room
reading the books of haters
where I can see caterpillars
spreading on the grave
rotting.

I even heard voices
shouting from the pages 
the bourgeoisie are squeezed
cuddled by greedy mice 
narrating rotten lies. 

21 September 2018 
Kota Kinabalu...

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I call upon my Reaper
Only he can save me now.
Watch me fall deeper,
Watch me fall down.

Feeling broken,
Barely breathing
Words re-main unspoken
My body seizing.

Artificial light blinds me,
Criples me.
The sound of the Banshee.
The forgotton bourgeoisie.

My impending sorrow,
My fortitude annihilated.
Is there tomorrow?
Time is violated....

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They
fought for
Liberté,
égalité
et fraternité
in a revolution
against royal tyranny
by a careless, selfish monarch.
On July 14th, they stormed the Bastille
in the first major act of violence
against nobles and the bourgeoisie.
The third estate, the poor, starving
watched as madam guillotine
despatched the King and Queen,
and their divine right
in a revolt
where many
lost their
heads....

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I'm trying to save the world today.
The glory moment.
Finish the novel.
Feed the children.
Fill their souls.
Redeem the soul of the world.
Hand back their dignity.
Sign off on full disclosure.
Biking right through the bourgeoisie.
Let them see.
I am the light.
Shining from sea to sea.
Do you hear me?
Paul Revering?
So send me home
Or let me roam.
Any way is the way,
Since I'm trying to save the world today....

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(Re old poems)



The luncheon of French bourgeoisie under frilly striped awning.
Young fair maiden, rosy cheeks- beguiling her eyes; leans on the railing.
Amidst fruits and undrunk wine in amorous air strokes dog, a wife.
Men look askance in yellow straw hats, faces muse in blazing whites.
Quivering tints alive on a terrace, evolve in sunbathed human life.


``

Based on Auguste Renoir's painting - ''Luncheon of the Boating Party''
...

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Claude Debussay didn't inspire me
As red sun set a fiery red ball
And I ran away with no shawl
Knowing there was no way to flee
Trapped in your shuttered bourgeoisie

Behind the mask, a plastered glee
Pull Daisy's petals let them fall
He loves me, loves me not at all
The keys pound music none esprit
It ends, made it through the long plea  

Actually Spanish Quintain
There is no slot for this form...
Inspired by Craig Cornish's contest
Not an entry.....

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I went
to a & e
I sat in
the waiting
room with a
man alive by
virtue of a
heartbeat and
a boy who
had swallowed a
dictionary.

Mozart tended
to our head
wounds as a
whiskey priest
stood in the
corner under a
burning redlit
cross that
terrified his 
dandruff.

I asked the
boy his name
and he told
me the
definition of
bourgeoisie and 
disappeared into
theatre as
the heartbeat guy
grinned at me
through a 
mouth like
watermelon.

and after some
time waiting
I realised that
nothing was
wrong with me...

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