sir james saville HRH andrew battenburg/windsor sir
Larry parnes sir cliff richard lord boothby ronnie kray reggie kray jeffery epstein gisellaine maxwell anthony
kidman kevin spacy peter sutcliffe sir bob hawke
louie mountbatten richard nixon billy graham henry kissinger queen elizabeth 2
All different people at top levels who didn't really know
each other.? Or mix in the same circles, or were on the
Same upward pay grade so intruiging and thought provoking.?
Obviously the battenburg/windsors and louie mountbatten
Also the krays knew lord boothby and maybe others?
Would they have similar leisure intrests i know a lot of
Well heeled people do wimbledon.' So would that be meeting
Also functions, like state funerals, world cups would such
People go.?
Buzzards on the Infamous Hill
Always sitting at the edge of my seat,
When, oh when, shall truth finally come out…
As a true,American splendiferous treat!
But buzzards of cravish deception,
Fill the political, pockmarked skies.
Leaving us forever, with questions.
These carnivores reside on The Hill.
Where truth and goodness perish.
Americans left with lies, hope is killed.
Ethics lay as pricey,broken sunglasses.
Crushed beneath deceptive, well heeled feet.
“No news, just pure propaganda for the masses?”
Now, an amoral ,upside down, nation,
Where cheating and lies are given full reign.
And all good folk, dubbed as “abominations?”
Indeed, tis the poison Swamp’s entire purpose.
To establish a frightening totalitarian future.
Where depravity is honored, in their very sinews.
7/21/ 2023
The Door Wolf.
And, what of the waxing Moons
Its flood, of relentless tides, that time
of scar faced pit dogs, long sharp toothed,
their belly grumbling handlers, eager
to chalk a death line, on cold ale stained flag stones hard.
While in bleakness yard, belly tumbling hags squeeze, last drops out of well gripped ****, for the blind pups bellies,
babies must wait, in so many ways they are a benefit, against the door Wolf.
And what of pale, deep eyed children
Barefoot in waste lands of snow
Thin as cotton threads, as are their ragged clothes !
Their belly grumbling quenched, by easy swallowed earth worms, to placate the parasitic worms hidden within.
Ahh, all in ! to the avoid the door wolf.
And what of the well heeled lace lover,
hovering in trinkets of silver, and cups spilling with distain, against the scroungers pain ?
With, Parisiene perfume, to muffle the drum
Hum drum stench, from a piss trench
soaked and brandyied to sleep.
Her blinkers finaly, blinked blank.
Those waxed, and wained Moons !
Now cobwebbed in long past night skies.
How close it was but sadly not to be
with chosen numbers falsely provident -
deserving no such serendipity
lest I remain reckless and delinquent.
Mine are the sins of a Protestant son
for which I am well blamed but not well-heeled,
which robbed my vulgar life’s fortune undone
till I’m pale and hermetically sealed.
Lost are foreign cars, no pockets of gold -
no libertine joy till O’ happy dirge!
My Faustian spirit that sold its soul
alas will not my blunted senses purge.
O’ well, seems my fate is not to abscond
with some giddy perky pneumatic blonde!
Written: December 1996
I have dreams and goals to fulfill,
Longing for a wife to join me.
Hope for a place to call my own,
The confidence to stand alone.
We all have one fear at the least,
Whether or not you choose to believe.
None of us should trek in fear,
Live in hope not your greatest fear.
When I think I’m getting it together,
Glass shatters by life’s wrecking ball.
There’s always something I don’t get,
A detail that seems impossible to miss.
When revelations finally dawn on me,
Everyone is already seven steps ahead of me.
Will I ever be the well-heeled man I want to be?
Or will I always have an Achilles heel?
We are winded and on the ropes.
Backwater banjo boys
strum against us,
clouds prey upon our minds.
Bad days for going out
or staying in.
A time to be sleepless
to be dazed by the paltry,
nibbled by dogged uncertainties.
We must live timidly,
bargain for more
expect the unexpected
thrive with less.
Go shopping
in the poorer parts of town,
seek thrifty ways where
the well-heeled fear to tread.
When Cable News
assured us that the sky
was about to flap away
we began to dig deeper
with cheap plastic shovels.
We networked a few viral prayers
sought the company of magpies
while the nigh and near
once more took us all by surprise.
It’s lovely here especially in the Fall,
the Maples are tall and burning bright.
The graves and crypts are ornate and marbled,
old money made them.
I thank them all for being here before me;
for me though, a cremation
and a river journey awaits.
I imagine fishes nibbling at my ghost,
abandoned truck tires
accommodating my swirling ashes.
Eventually a karmic wheel
may turn to my turn.
In generations perhaps, I'll be transformed
through new seeded dreams
into a beautiful Maple tree
in an autumn cometary for the well-heeled
and long planted.
The carefree menagerie
a very merry coterie
of holiday lovers, and
well-heeled brothelers
they rarely miss a chance
to freeload for free
Not stranded at borders
shell-shocked from orders
~ no pretense of royalty
THE RACE
In a rural
country vale
Aylesbury's forgotten tale
a steeplechase
from memory long gone
the four mile hunt
from Waddesdon
Twenty
weighed in at the White Hart
the old windmill
.. the place to start
riders famous & the well-heeled
racing across
ditch &field.
each carrying
twelve stone seven
the starters flag
dropped at exactly eleven
across brook spinney &
the Thame
seeking the prize pot & fame
in long furlong field
the leaders showed
to the roars
from the turnpike road
the well backed grey
became the toast
winning
by a length
at
the red flagged post
Year Posted 2007
The exodus is on course
Homeward bound, full force
Christmas and New Year cheer
Of the pandemic, we have little fear
The well heeled among us, lead the pack
Who knows what they will take and bring back
Those who can, alone, stay home
Trying to preserve their human microbiome
Shades of post- war nineteen twenty
Soldiers brought Spanish influenza aplenty
Hit us hard, many died - we had no masks
Our Doctors and nurses this time, not at their tasks
Like then, we rush to send wishes true
To the political and CoVid millionaire crew
Next year, if we are here to tell the tale
Their fortunes will move further from the pale
Well heeled prove worth accumulating items
Excess possessions symbolise hierarchy
Available funds allow aristocrat to buy them
Unwittingly sitting in prison of patriarchy
Drawn lustily to slope of have it all quagmire
Lay claim on the latest, insatiable aspire
Managing menagerie of restless investment
Inhibits by dictating subsequent strategy
On hold, breath held in waiting for a best yet
Comparitively impressive, an odd flattery
Asset gain brings accolades, remote admire
Burgeon of wealth paled by pull of desire
11th December
- elevated? -
I’m Packing and She’s Packing
I’m a film noir private eye and I’ve got my eye on this voluptuous dame. I’m investigating the murder of her rich husband and searching for clues. Because deep in my gut, her sweet demeanor made me suspicious and I smelled a rat no matter how much charm she exuded.
My research told me she used to be a barmaid in a well heeled club and her gentlemen friends (they weren’t gentlemen) sought her out and she could pick and choose. During my questioning , her sorrow consisted of martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
I questioned her candidly and she answered as well in a sultry way. I was tempted but I had to be hard and in control of my misguided hormones. but I was determined seek the truth.
she swayed me
But I was on to her
time will tell
The Private Eye and the Femme Fatale
Halibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
April 25, 2019
Dredged me from squalid littoral
Brushed me up; saw the first light
Eschewed from things personal
Gleaming new being; future delight
Stepping on high table of moral
I'm now the well-heeled protégé of a rosy sight
O but it ain't free! T'has dismissal:
Obey without permit
Keep mouth shut, but be loyal
Respond with no slight
Shan't be heard; not even vocal
Still on duty like a freight
For their legacy's balance 'am focal
Because they showed me light
This, than my home, is abysmal
Thought 'twas free will-alright!
My place was freedom, though lousy local
Get me out of here. Take me back to my dirt
Weekend wanderlust, backwoods trail tramping
Accesorized with well-heeled, hard-soled boots
Forrest frolicking, overnight camping
Freefalling footsteps connect to grassroots
Lost in labyrinth of lengthy commutes
Energized inboard engine outpaces
Scavenger hunting and other pursuits
Tieing up loose ends with taut bootlaces
Observing the touch of untouched places
Muddy meanderings, dry diversion
Pathway erases bootprint/ retraces
Exiting road-less-taken-excursion
Rejuivenated, (much to my liking)
Striking campfire desire for more hiking
WELL-WORN PATH OF SHOES
shoes ~ saddle
with gray and blue catholic uniform
dove white ~ easter
sandals dressed in ‘60’s powder blue
sneakers with my uniform
last minute mistake
mercy meted me a guard duty post
click~click~slick
cruise ship formal night
not for love, arm in arm
delicate walk to dining room
catherine de medici taller
well-heeled so we can grow smaller
dining in our fancy chairs
sacrificial slippers – quiet hush hush
toss them overboard
bare ~ love cuddles
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