Old 01-26-2015, 07:43 PM   #1
LastLostIdols
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My poems/songs

Probably don't rhyme but this is the best I can do. These are more songs than poems, I don't know. I like writing them but they are probably awful.


Beautiful Irish Bastard

He just couldnít slay that urban beast
A beast on the hunt
For love, lumps & lust
Valentino clashed with Johnny
For a dirty tail or two
To end the night black & blue
Stumbling on back through the Clifton Grange
He promised her it was just a phase
Oh mama! Oh mama!
Boys will be boys
Those rogues are so damn vogue

Mars is brooding over Venus
We donít give a damn if the public eye has seen us

Iím dropping my needle on that
Twin axe attack, that twin axe attack
Iím telling you itís
Sgt. Rockís Twin Axe Attack

So Irish that boy forgot to be black
Up to no good on the streets of Moss side
Could have been Harlem
But it had to be Crumlin-side

Iím dropping my needle on that
Twin axe attack, that twin axe attack
Iím telling you itís
Sgt. Rockís Twin Axe Attack

Made it past twenty-seven
But never in with the specials
Itís a right old ghost town
Troubadours made a good impression
But their dead by eleven
Club closed early, & weíre cut up from a bad line up
We were too damn aggressive
Banned from the strip and Iím left in a fit of depression

Iím dropping my needle on that
Twin axe attack, that twin axe attack
Iím telling you itís
Sgt. Rockís Twin Axe Attack

Iíve got to speak up now that
The roars of the crowd are gone
And Iím standing here
Edge of the stage, wondering
Will you remember these songs?
Will you remember my words?
Will you remember us?
Will you remember me?
When the spotlights gone

Weíre looking at you
Telling you, asking you
Donít mistake this insecurity for vanity
Please
Donít mistake this insecurity for vanity

Smile, Fry & Die

Smile, fry & die
The pearly toothed monsters need you
Crooked cops, silky white shirts with mustard stains
Mascots are drained with your insufferable presence
They look at you like peasants, fighting over the dying pheasants
On the hunt for one last meal
Pearly toothed monsters
Will smile, fry & die

Mascotís Slaughter our morale
And the cheerleaders will flaunter
The working Joe breaks his foot
As the laughing Arthur collects his pay check
This ainít what he wanted but itís what he got
Well this is what you get
When monsters are at the wheel

Smile, fry & die
My girlís got cancer
I donít have the heart to say goodbye
She canít pay for the poison
But I can pay for mine
Iím just another damn monster
Pearly toothed, suit clad monster
Counting paper, tossing silver, eating copper

Somebody stop Ďem
Before this burning world
Eats its oil, as we toil and recoil
At the horrors of the cities we build

Monsters at the wheel
Checking his reflection in the rear view mirror
Blood on his paper
Oil in his hair
Whitener on his fangs
Silky, velvety fine fabrics from china
Alloys from Venezuela
The children got sciatica
No health-plan just a 24 hour suicide net

Smile, fry & die
You best enjoy the little things
The diamonds & gold
Come at a cost
Wonít you please shake my hand?
Weíre all just pearly toothed monsters
Driving at the wheel
Monsters at the wheel
The Cliffside approaches
This ainít your stop.
Pearly toothed monstersí
Smile, fry & die

Romily

Where shall I begin?
Girl I've been missing that evil grin
Might just push you down this rabbit hole
Sell my soul just to see you
Back in that rabbit hole
You were quiet as a mouse
With a flick of a switch
And I see you sprouting things
Suddenly youíre voracious, audacious, flirtatious!
Drop the amp, so you can
Come & play with me Romily
Oh wonít you come ní play with me Romily
I know, I know you wonít
It leaves my heart ticking sombrely
Isnít she lovely? I know itís not likely.

I eat my yolks till I start to choke

Been missing that evil grin
Might just push you down the rabbit hole
Sell my soul just to see you
Back in that rabbit hole
Quiet as a mouse
Flick of a switch
See you got wings
Suddenly you're voracious, audacious, flirtatious!
Drop that amp
An Come & play with me Romily
Oh wonít you come ní play with me Romily
I know, I know you wonít
It leaves my heart ticking sombrely

Donít force me to scream down these hatches
Tell me, Tell me where the fuck are you now!
Romily! Romily! Romily!
Romily! Romily! Romily!

Sweet, sweet heavy child

Devil's Village

Immortal kings, queens & the god damn senate too
Who will you be?
Will you play the tyrant or the villain?

Angels are just a pipe-dream
Foul minions play with fowl
And Demons just wonít do
They had to send Devils instead

Now
Should my heroes be?
Deprived of this stage
But all these rogues
Wrapped in silk & velvet
Seem to be
Depraved enough for you

The woodland sorcerers left battered & bloodied
The Poets of war
Donít play on the battlefields
Dead kings donít go marching
When the neophytes are calling

Robed figures took her in the night
Sheís from Salem
They said sheís just a corner store whore
But I know
Sheís from the hilltop
Now sheís Moscowís bitch

They built themselves
Temples to these wooden fools
As you lay siege to their golden idols
Now I see you sitting atop your own devilís shoulder
Hissing your plots
Planting the seeds
As the pyre calls

One of these days the children will go marching
On your Devilís Village
Till weíre brave enough
To walk through the smokescreen
To reach your Devilís village

This legion of piss soaked
Blood stained generals will assemble
At the gates at your kingdom
Built atop my forefatherís skulls and thrones
Laid beneath these tombs of sandstone

Sons of liberty
Stand fast
Before your brothers of war
This tower will crumble a thousand times
But weíll pick up the pieces as the fire flies

Now I confess Odin met Zeus, and Hera too
Does Nemesis know, youíre my nemesis?
The devil isnít sitting on my shoulder
I suspect you sit on his instead.

Devil's In The Night

Got another story to tell
Iíve sunken to new lows
Oh well
Maybe I shouldnít dwell
Itíll lead me into the pits
Iíll only lose my wits
And sheís having a fit!

Cause we were devils, devils in the night
Looking for easy meals, with the right deals
When I get home find her writing them letters
Better not be addressing my betters
Shooting them notes off to Neville

He knows, he knows Iím a foul old Devil that Neville
Begging you, Iím begging you donít meddle

She caught me in the alleys
With her sisters
Lipstick marks in the back streets
Missus got real bitter
Growling when Iím prowling
It ainít no feat just my regular beat

Watching the sun go up
When the moon goes down
Watching the sun go up
When the moon goes down

Caught in the alleys
An I'm gonna be another exhibition
In her shooting galley

Got another story to tell
Maybe I shouldnít dwell
Itíll lead me into a pit
Iíll only lose my wits
And sheís having a fit!

Cause we were devils, devils in the night
Holding my wallet close holding out for the corner manís snow
Looking for easy meals, with the right deals
Looking at the shows, ready for the blows
Because Neville knows, Neville knows
Will we come to blows, when she knows?

When she knows
We were devils in the night

Last edited by LastLostIdols : 01-27-2015 at 04:24 PM.
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Old 01-27-2015, 05:50 AM   #2
Senna Jawa
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format

Different people may feel differently about the format. When it comes to me, I am not going to read a poem/song center-formatted (there would have to be very special reasons, rather exotic, to make an exception; not here).
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Old 01-28-2015, 05:36 PM   #3
Senna Jawa
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standard format! :)

Quote:
Originally Posted by LastLostIdols View Post
Probably don't rhyme but this is the best I can do. These are more songs than poems, I don't know. I like writing them but they are probably awful.


Beautiful Irish Bastard

He just couldnít slay that urban beast
A beast on the hunt
[...]
We were devils in the night
Oh, you have changed the format. Great! I will read your stuff.

A time ago a regular participant Rybka (who died years ago, so sad) used to have some of his poems centered, which to me was not a great idea. However he was playing intensively with graphics, and his centered format was only an element of his design.

Best,
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Old 01-28-2015, 11:34 PM   #4
UnderYourSpell
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Poems don't have to rhyme, in fact the majority of poets here don't. It's only die hards like myself still enjoy form poetry. If you like the way you write square your back against those that say different and carry on. I enjoyed your poems but I'm glad also that you stopped centre aligning them (excuse my strange spelling of 'centre' I'm English )
__________________

Blessed are the cracked for it is they that let in the light
They say a smile is a gift which is free to the giver and precious to the recipient.
But giving the finger is free, too, and I find it more personal and sincere.
If at first you don't succeed....skydiving is not for you ....
If you don't pay your exorcist .... do you get repossessed?
I shall always decide not to decide, unless of course I decide to change my mind.
....But I, being poor, have only my dreams, I have spread my dreams under your feet,Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.......
Nil Caborundum illigitimi
Sestina slut
Annie submits
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Old 01-28-2015, 11:44 PM   #5
Senna Jawa
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"Beautiful Irish Bastard"

Hi Lost, I volunteered to read but I cannot be of any help. I've read your first song/poem. I have too little contact with your text, style, ... I can't judge what is just familiar, and what is a cliche (once or twice perhaps it must be the latter but I don't know). I only guess that you know what you're doing, and that you do it well.

At the end I wondered:
Donít mistake this insecurity for vanity
Please
Donít mistake this insecurity for vanity
I would never allow this kind of so-called talk. Can't you say it poetically? Especially at the end of a poem? The moment you decide on poetry you'll put some effort (creative effort of course ) and you will find it, and you will do it.

Best regards,
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