triggers triggers yet they
fall before me
yellow purple
what colors do I notice
palm trees beach views
something I see there
is called home.
I can feel the dust on my tongue
yet as they dissolve and then solve all my
issues.
clinically and emotionally why
Does this little tabloid make me gain weight
I can’t seem to shake
All because I am a
schizoid.
A headline in the red tops,
Tabloid front pages as well,
A story the media vied
To be the first to tell.
A Revolution in medicine,
Really something very big,
The first time a human
Received the heart of a pig.
A little genetic engineering
Was all they would need
And so with care they bred
A pig of a suitable breed.
They took time and effort
So that they could prepare
For a successful procedure
And after surgery care.
He got a new life
His dreams came true
Once again he was able
To do things he used to do.
Only one slight problem,
In trees he would start to snuffle,
And, going down on all fours
He’d start to hunt for truffle.
In the land of glitz and glitter.
Visionaires film moving pictures.
Acting out their fantasies.
Through love ,war, or tragedy.
Who got hot between the sheets.
To rhapsody's elusive beat.
As a plot began to steam
Audacity, almost Obscene.
Humors truth, alloyed themes.
Viewers rule, Android dreams.
Rumor sleuths, Tabloid screams.
Future jewels on a silver screen.
Give up the thought
of impressing me
I losted interest in what you do
aint uncommon in relationships
let's be real and
keep this true
don't ssay I'm grandstanding
beleive me I aint
tryna one up you
Keep me should be your priorty
instead you got me
begging and chasing you
Doorbell ringing
who's at the door
I had to pickup your underwear
off the floor
aint done nothing but you sleep all day
and refuse to listen to what I say
Ole Gal coming to borrow
flour and tea
Mean Ole broad
snorls and grunts at me
All that yeah girl ya'll
gossiping
Tabloid Tooties knows
everything
We got a room
to stay after
the theather
tryna vacate some of this
grime away
I don't wanna be mean or bitter
after all you my
Lady
love you in everyway
but I be glad
when this faze of our
relalationship is over
People troubling us everyday
stresses of us together
can't let my ego get in the way
Said I love you
and I aint want nothing
Said I cared and and meant
every word
I enjoyed our time together
Loved what we saw
And I chersihed every word
I’m Mz Mortenson, if you please.
I dispensed with the charade
when I went to my grave.
Life can be tricky
if you’re pretty.
My life was a role,
I couldn’t always control.
How unaware the dumb bombshell seemed.
Still, I was labeled the obscene Norma Jeane.
in reel life’s small doses,
the role was emotionally corrosive,
merely etching away my fragile identity.
In real life it proved erotically explosive
destroying my privacy, serenity, and sanity.
I thrilled in some 29 films, I took a few pills,
was a plaything for mobsters and tabloid mills.
When I started a fling with the president,
did I have any idea what I was up against?
Some free advice - beware of counterintelligence.
Homicide, suicide - what does it matter
- which one is sadder?
I knew I’d always be there for you, sensuously beckoning,
at 24 frames per second, like an eternal flame - flickering.
.
.
Of course, Norma Jeane Mortenson’s stage name was Marylin Monroe
Written for the 'Lost Poetry from History Challenge' contest.
Where you write a poem in the voice of an historical figure.
16:00.06-17
Yeah.
Bought the ring
Tutti Frutti
Five-karat bling.
Toast a brew
We had a drink
Big scandal grew
Felt the cold sting.
Face tabloid news
Waiting till spring.
Winter time choose
A Double will fling.
Blue Gucci shoes
Songbird can sing.
Ten years gone past
Didn't mean a thing.
Whole Truth
Without spin
Both lose
Nobody wins.
Today's April Fools
And your pants are on fire.
Front page Tabloid news
Prying minds do Enquire.
Was a small town girl,
With big city views.
Gained a reputation,
On the front page news.
Met a rich young man,
While serving hors d'oeuvres.
She noticed his smile,
He admired her curves.
She was born dirt-poor,
He topped the A-list.
They slipped out back,
For a moonlight tryst.
A heavy kiss first,
Then the garments dropped.
No sooner began,
When the flashbulbs popped.
Blinded by the lights,
And caught unaware.
An eager press core,
Took shots of the pair.
Little did she know,
This senator's son.
Running for position,
Like his father had done.
Crowned a tabloid queen,
In the blink of an eye.
Made her friends all laugh,
And her parents cry.
Everybody in town,
Wants to know her name.
Now they chase her down,
As she hides in shame.
With no repercussions,
For the senator's son.
Daddy payed through the nose,
For the office he won.
A sad twist of fate,
Nobody would choose.
That poor little girl,
Got the D.C. Blues.
Jenny, they say,
will face a tragedy.
Is it not something always
predicted this way?
Will it be Jenny?
Or Pete or Paul?
We glance every day among
those tabloid papers - so many.
We read headlines, blink,
then another front page;
or see this or that on TV.
Yes, we tut-tut.
We always go
this self-same way.
You reach an advanced age.
So so.
Ah yes,
so so.
(written Sep 2022; posted Jan 2023)
I AM WATCHING YOU
I work for a national tabloid,
Paid to dig for dirt.
I wash dirty laundry in public.
I’m not fussy who I hurt
“Hollywood star dating shop girl”
“Actor’s night of passion.”
Such salacious gossip
Will not go out of fashion
Now, if you court publicity
Or hold a top position,
I am watching day and night
(And I’m mad about politicians)
So, if conducting an affair,
It’s bound to finish in sorrow.
For all will know about it
In my gossip column tomorrow
7th January 2023
Lipogram poetry contest
Sponsor - Emile Pinet
At the Depot
As the snow flies, on a cold and grey December dawn
to waiting homes no mails are borne
from the depot.
Phil Bloggs, a mailman, scans the news
but his screwed up tabloid gives him the blues
saying 'To compromise both sides refuse,'
at the depot.
Hark! Foxes, stray cats, rats, critters all.
though humans languish, have a ball
in the depot.
On letters, parcels and Christmas boxes
little mice play, as do foxes.
Such a sight you never saw.
as stray dogs chew and rodents gnaw
in the depot.
What fleshpots in sealed parcels beckon
hungry vermin, who can reckon
in the depot?
What meaty dish, what luscious pie
teeters in a box stacked high?
No robber cries 'stand and deliver'
though many freeze and many shiver.
Phil Bloggs turns to another page
and what he reads puts him in rage
in the depot.
For guns and rockets billions go through
but for impoverished nurses barely a sou
in the ghetto.
the tabloid was all but sick
sick the next day to your stomach
it was like sour curdled up old milk
a hard one to tolerate
the article was far from lenient
harmless some day's
just way out of line
he had it coming
was just a matter of time
he had no idea that
web's and egg's were being served for breakfast early that morning
eating the tragedy formed a vicious path
cone of shame around his neck
you couldn't see
planned a day set long ago
he got the call
rushed out
and
turned the key
it was base all the way
best to his knowledge
best to what he knew
Trump's Security Clearance is void
And a Florida judge is annoyed
She wanted to see
How Trump's latest plea
Shifts the blame to an FBI droid
MA headline in the red tops,
Tabloid front pages as well,
A story the media vied
To be the first to tell.
A Revolution in medicine,
Really something very big,
The first time a human
Received the heart of a pig.
A little genetic engineering
Was all they would need
And so with care they bred
A pig of a suitable breed.
They took time and effort
So that they could prepare
For a successful procedure
And after surgery care.
He got a new life
His dreams came true
Once again he was able
To do things he used to do.
Only one slight problem,
In trees he would start to snuffle,
And, going down on all fours
He’d start to hunt for truffle.
I dream to wake up in a new world,
A world that is balanced and healthy,
A world where love, peace and togetherness thrive,
A world where war is not a resolution to disputes.
A world where no one is indigent.
My dream is,
To have my thoughts on a slate before me,
To be able to shut the door to the deluge of my mind,
To be able to permute my thoughts in a serene flow,
To have my sky clear from sombre clouds.
My dream is to wake up in a sculptor's world,
Where defects are easily chiselled out,
My dream is to have the world on a canvas,
Painted with colours of laughter, joy and hope,
Bringing daylight into the midnight train.
My dream is to always yield to the Potter,
To have Him mould me to His choice vessel,
My dream is to wake up in a different world,
A world adorned in its pristine beauty,
A world unsullied by the innovations of time.
August 12, 2022.
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