The last bus
This is a day for us losers, no this is not about the climate, from my window it looks like doing well, a dollop of sun there and a splash of rain there, it is no asking for anyone’s permission
With losers, I mean us who have managed to get old, but living wildly and not going for longevity
This makes us miserable because we have nothing to look back on and say, sure I did that
It is not that we didn’t try to make a mark, but
Booze and women got in the way, conquest
a whore in every port
Some of us tried to make a mark by scribbling
Our thoughts on paper, exposed our tiring vulnerability for all to see, only to discover that
No one wanted to know gave a , because
One needs a name to make it worthwhile to
Read your missives
So here we are getting pissed every night
Blaming fate for our misery when the bitter truth is we’re not talented enough to be
Recognized
For some reason, we continue to write for
We know what else to do; reflect on that we
Know God is punishing us for sins we were not aware of, as we whored our way through life
Categories:
whored, absence, abuse, addiction, art,
Form: Blank verse
His aspiration to be couple
Which defined might maketh
Him lonely
That I might be a sweet remind
That he should suffer from his
Labors
And mi act to be define
He chorest me that must suffer
That I beyond his brow
He chorest me
That I am whore
And his his wants
Are that of thou
He chorest me
To what ending
That who's money
I have found
He chorest me
Might he labor
And mi need
Be with thou
I have whored in parts
To make suffer
Those who wish to
To love and leave
I have tasked to bring
Asunder men who wish
To be with me
Who chorest me
Must I labor
To have men
Want for me
He chorest me
My whitest behavior
Has a world
To look to me
Categories:
whored, allusion,
Form: Bio
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : XXXIX
For Aurélien BARRAU, the consummate millenial teacher
IF you pull a long perplexed face
At the way this World has come to stay
Bad Guys always running the human race
Good Guys have no recourse but to pray
If you pull a long victimized face
Hoping somehow the Meek will win out some day
That all it takes is to lose meantime some face
Now and then to those who make you unwilling pay
If you pull a long anxious face
Fretting every morn the issue of the day
Which Frost road to take to avoid the pitfall place
Bad Guys will revel to see you fritter energy away
If you pull a long downcast face
At the way Justice fails to pave the way
For Truth to triumph while mediocre mettle prevails
Does not Yang need the Yin to keep both at bay
If you must then pull all kinds of face
At, say, Pullitzers Bookers Goncourts all mainstay Nobels pariah
Will the whored beggar Welles or the squealing Kazans they replace
Be the Dantes erecting on quicksand grounds the Divina Comedia
© T. Wignesan - Paris, March 16, 2019
Categories:
whored, allegory, character, conflict, power,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
Chasing a dream, she peddles her body
and dresses sexy, though never gaudy.
Catering to upper society,
high-priced call girls project propriety.
Easily enticed by riches, she yearns,
sex fuels the flames as innocence burns.
And selling favors for dollars and fame,
she pimps herself; it's all part of the game.
When paper passions and desires unfold;
sex isn't intimate; it is something sold.
And words of sincerity ring hollow
amidst phony smiles; men pay to follow.
Tomorrows cannot be freely explored,
for feelings are subdued when love is whored.
And abandoning family and friends,
circumventing objections; she pretends.
Reality exasperates her plight,
piercing awareness like slivers of light.
And, anguish slowly envelopes her soul,
for her lifestyle levies a heavy toll.
Categories:
whored, angst, emotions, feelings, heartbreak,
Form: Rhyme
Whored the moon
'neath ravaged warm tides,
whence snowflakes caught fire
channeling sea's frothy surrender
in a vast edgy drink on
the brink of a vengeful rush,
whilst frigid oceans deviated mid murky
depths of aimless asylum harbors,
whorling faster to catch up with breaks of dawn
blistering under betrayal of the sun
Categories:
whored, allegory, hyperbole, moon, morning,
Form: Free verse
don’t need the KGB
don’t need the CIA
don’t need the FBI
don’t need the MI5
don’t need the ASIS
don’t need the SIRC
don’t need the CSE
don’t need the I&SC
don’t need the MSS
don’t need the PAP
don’t need the SGDN
don’t need the BfV
don’t need INTERPOL
etc.
etc.
etc.---
because mr. zuckerberg had a
dream
mr. zuckerberg wants you to be part of his
dream
mr. zuckerberg wants you to place all your innermost
everything
in his little pocket
for all the world to see
under his umbrella
all on his watch, so much so that
these governmental intruders don’t even have to ask anymore---
nope,
thanks to mr. z,
they can learn all about you
by the info that you provide
stretching all across the globe
as you are being whored out to every advertising agency on the planet
as you are being food for the consumption machine
as you are sliced up by the double-edged sword of
a “need” to be socially “in the loop,”
while at the same time sucked into the revolting act of being raped
by everyone & anything that wants a piece of you.
Categories:
whored, life,
Form: Free verse
(So contradicting)
Yet un purposely...
I'm seeking what's already been found,
for reasons unknown.
I control myself,
but myself controls me.
Is there reason?
Meaning?
(Constantly seeking)
What am I looking for?
The big picture, the grand scheme.
So if I found the answer today,
would you care anyway?
(Distrust)
Well deserved
(So contradicting)
Unconciously confusing
everything and everyone
A mind in line with divinity
is a mind deemed insane in society.
A society deemed normal
is a society easily corruptible.
And they will always find a way
to get their money.
(Distrust)
Well deserved!
You have been misled,
misinformed,
conformed,
and whored to the businesses.
(Disgust)
Love overcomes corruption
So what are you waiting for?
(Follow me...)
Categories:
whored, angst, confusion, inspirational, life,
Form: I do not know?
They say that destiny does not wait
A man must be prepare and at the gate
When the moment to his future calls
Old folk wisdom is true and it appalls.
I lost you the instant we were found
I thought you would ever be around
And took for granted the times gone
When love was in its tenderest dawn.
A man must forget what he can't keep
I whored among the stars just to sleep
And all your memory was hidden here
Behind the sparkle of the tethered tear.
Then he came from nowhere and said
Your name: Dothnie! and the old dread
Of denied seduction in lightning strike
Trembled me there. O, I do so dislike
To touch the jewel that I cannot keep. I
Know its vain to think, or hope, or cry
You are too married and too far away
Using your number would noose my day.
Categories:
whored, lost love
Form: Quatrain