Posted: Wed Aug 16th, 2006 12:15 am
1 st Post
Interesting. A little long, but fun in its rhyme and reason.
It sounds like a folk song. Or maybe a country song. Or more likely a song in a play or musical.
Reminds me of someone. I'm not sure who.
Hmmm. Maybe Kal.??
Shorten it, find a chorus, give it a melody, make it a little more subtle and it's definitely a song. Voltaire said, "Anything too silly to be said should be sung." Sounds like that might qualify. Not sure I can imagine a character saying it, but I can imagine one singing it. Especially if more inuendos and subtlty was used.
In fact, it could be hilarious.
Last edited on Wed Aug 16th, 2006 12:26 am by scenedreamer
Posted: Tue Aug 15th, 2006 06:05 pm
2 nd Post
I am re-sending this poem in a text format. The previous one had formatting complications that made it difficult to read. As mentioned, this is the title poem of my new serio-comic novel, "The Ballad of Pubic Pediculi," currently being circulated to agents & publishers. The protagonist writes this poem based on a recent experience. --kw
The Ballad of Pubic Pediculi
(with a tip of the hat to Robert Service)
My story begins one cold night
When I yearned for some carnal delight;
I discovered a dive
That was jumping with jive
And habitues hardly contrite.
The first local talent I spied
Was the type whom by all had been tried.
“Mah name’s Jaw-juh,” said she,
As she slinked up to me;
“And yoahs?” A pseudo (of course) I supplied.
A garish tattoo on each arm
I noticed with pop-eyed alarm;
These dermal stigmata
In bright terra cotta
Did much to enhance her sweet charm.
Phenix City, St. Louie, St. Paul;
She’d set hearts athrob in ‘em all;
Her torrid gyrations
Earned loud acclamations,
Her champions could fill a great hall!
She’d given up peeling last year;
“Had to,” said she, “stripped a gear.”
Now’s she’s living her life
Where sin is quite rife
And the small talk consists of “one beer”.
To get on with my tale of disaster,
I leaned close and proceeded to ast ‘er;
“How about a cool ale
My splendiferous quail?”
She accepted, and quaffed like a master.
Her lids drooped with a coquettish flutter
As she gave me a nudge with her rudder;
She asked me to dance,
I jumped at the chance,
And we soon were awaltzin’ each other.
On the dance floor my peach was a tease;
‘Tween us two there lacked space for a breeze.
She maneuvered her torso
In a way men adore so,
At a glance we were twins Siamese!
To make a short story much shorter,
I did what I shouldn’t had orter.
I invited her up
For a night-capping cup
Of coffee. . .or maybe a “snorter.”
Her mascara’d orbs brightened wide
As she eyed me both out and inside;
She approved in a minute,
But asked me “What’s in it
If ‘Yes’ is the word I decide?”
That just when I should’ve backed down,
But playing the role of dumb clown,
I blindly persisted,
She hardly resisted,
And soon we were driving uptown.
To describe what occurred in my suite
Would neither be right nor discreet
I’ll dispense with the gory,
Get on with my story,
But I must say: ‘twas really a treat!
When my one-night amour from me faded,
And I lay ‘neath my quilt tired and jaded,
I turned o’er with a sigh,
To fond sleep did I fly,
Sans a thought for what I’d perpetrated.
The renascence of sunlight soon came,
Seemed a day like all others the same;
But there at day break,
I jumped up with a shake,
Lilliputians were gnawing my frame!
I immediately commenced an inspection
Of a rather unmention’ble section;
You can guess my surprise
When I saw with my eyes
That I’d picked up some type of infection!
There cavorting upon me with glee
Was a horrible species of flea!
Upon subsequent careful research
At a drugstore I learned with a lurch
‘Twas the dread Pubic Pediculi!
Now, except for the experts in labs,
The rest of us folks call ‘em CRABS;
Those tiny crustaceans
That lurk in bus stations
And oft in the rear seats of cabs.
In my own particular case,
The cause I could easily trace.
Though I hate to name names,
Or to fix folks with blames,
It was Georgia who fostered the race!
Oh, they bit and they hatched
While I grimaced and scratched;
Oh, they multiplied quicker
Than rummies drink likker!
Yes, to me they were fondly attached!
Upon the sage druggist’s advice,
I purchased a cure for the lice;
I made my anointment,
A tube of Blue Ointment,
To say that it worked will suffice.
Now that I’m clear of the curse,
I can’t say I’m any the worse,
I’ve learned a great deal
From my “awkward” ordeal;
And I’ll sum it up now with this verse.
If ever you’re plagued by ennui,
Invite Georgia to a nocturnal spree;
She’s always quite willing
For anything thrilling,
But beware of the dread Pubic Pediculi!
-- Kal Wagenheim
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