Some lines on Maroon stepping from the closet.
‘Twas in the year two thousand and nine, on a cold summer’s day,
That poor Doctor Maroon woke a la William Ard, to find he was gay,
He had retired to bed early, totally straight (and utterly pissed)
So imagine the mental turmoil to awake as a homosexualist.
His revelationary conversion to soft furnishings and indirect lighty,
Made him feel like Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite,
“Oh me! Oh my!” he said, I must sit on this news,
Yet the camp old sod couldn’t resist praising his lady-friend’s shoes,
“This just puts the tin hat on it.” thought the impecunious gay git,
“When Poor Mother finds out, she’ll have a violent, possibly fatal, conniption fit,”
“Well that’s just too bad.” he flounced, “all I ever was, was her glorified chauffeur,”
And he danced a defiant little hornpipe, being now shocking light in the loafer.
“I knew all along.” lied Jayne-Marie, a girl with the morals of a stoat,
“Anyone could tell he was as bent as a three pound note.”
“Where will it end?” thought the clapped out, pissed up, academic Nobel dreamer,
Now admitting his love of stage musicals and sparkly drapes, the sad old screamer.
14 comments:
You total aunt, Maroon. You knew I was already working on mine. I haven't got very far because some of us have other things to do:
ON AHK MAROON'S ADMISSION
'Twas in the June of that accurs'd year
That they discovered Achilles Maroon to be a screaming queer.
On his once-calloused hand, a manicure glinted
And he befriended, Ivan Massow, a man so minted
And effete that his house was named Starland
And he owned every DVD featuring Judy Garland.
Kind friends begged Maroon to do something manly
But in response he shredded his 8x10s of Jenny Hanley
On bended knee, distraught, the licensee of the Brown Bear
(But Maroon just leered and said "while you're down there...")
That grave old publican implored Maroon to come and get fearful pissed
But the ingrate turned away hissing "I am an unrepentant homosexualist".
So let us shed a sorrowful tear as we remember our friend irreplacable, unique,
But whose idea of a good time is now to watch Anal Boutique.
Greetings from the land of Basho you two.
Even Mrs P
Finds that scansion is quite hard.
And so does Maroon.
“ προσῳδία “ dear Inky and you are right!
I am, as you may well know, the beneficiary of a rigorous classical smattering and poet to boot. It’s virtually impossible for me to escape the natural metre of my chosen art. Your perception is uncannily profound: it is hard. a bit too hard these days.
Portnoy comes to mind. It’s all hormones I am assured.
Where are my manners? Here, have this Graham’s ’90, I think it may amuse you..
Inky’s true critique
Prosoidia not up to
Snuff. He should try it.
My mother made me a homosexual.
If I give her the wool will she make me one?
Sorry all.
Are you trying to tempt Olivia out of the woodwork?
It's easier if you don't try. I got a distinction for poetry and I really don't know why.
Sx
Oh what nonsense, Scarlet. Maroon and I put a lot of effort into our poetry, and I think it shows. I can't even begin to imagine what your slapdash forays must be like: full of over-engineered rhymes and a clunking metre like someone in an orthopaedic shoe, I shouldn't wonder.
Maroon, I like your new avatar very much. The young woman is strangely familiar: black hair, big rack, an over-confident air. Could it be a portrait of Jayne-Marie with some shiny-faced cad? Good heavens! I think it is.
oh so dashing.
Ha ha ha!!! I'm rubbish at rhymme! I 'pretended' to write a poem - a kind of modern contemporary affair... it did really well. And seriously - I don't know why. That's why I've never attempted to write another.
Sx
See, I can't even spell 'rhyme'.
Sx
I suppose any reference to e e cummings would be misconstrued at this point.
I'm still reeling in shock after reading one of your previous posts.
You described Larsson as a mere man? Shame on you Maroon, he was the King of Glesga, and still is to every Hoops fan across the world.
Exactly who are these R*****s that you speak of? They sound very common indeed.
My Cott Mr Bastard you haff it exact! Exactement!
The best footballer in a generation. Here, drink this, it's the creme de menthe that makes it green. I call it a Paradise Pint. Cheers big man.
Kevin Musgrove you are a funny man, a big hitter in fact. We should hook up and tie one on in the reference section. I have a macician's coat of many pockets, each with a half bottle in it. I'm a walking bar is what I am.
"a kind of modern contemporary affair... it did really well.
What's all this. Never shit a shitter, I AM a poet so I'll know if you're taking the piss. So, deep breath, spill.
If you tell me, you can have this double MM (£7.00 in the south east)
Ax.
Sarah, many a true word. I AM dashing.
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