Statutory Rape Grapes

This is a rhyme that occured to me while thinking about the tabloids and what they publish.

It is about a rich famous "old guy" who has an extramarital affair with a young gold-digger "bimbo". She happens to be just under 18 too. He makes her pregnant, tries to leave her for his wife, only to be exposed by her.

Both of them have their reputations ruined and he has to pay paternity and go to jail for statutory rape.

The first rhyme is by him, the second is her response. Both are, as they say, tabloid trash. The picture is of Prince Charles and Dupree (Spitzer girl). Enjoy!

Statutory Rape: Song of The Jailbird

Dearest nearest thou smearest,
My name and tar me in shame,

What did I ever do,
To you, for you,
To drag me through the muck,
We made together, no such luck,

You didn't know I was married,
And I knew not what you carried,
In your belly, or your age,
Now I must return to my cage,

Best regards and bitter grins,
We shall see who it is that wins,

He who loses most is toast,

Temporarily my freedom and some cash,
Your reputation and future, dust and ash,


Statutory Rape: Jailbait's Debate

Mine lewser, dearest abuser,
You really scratch an itch,
When you call me a bitch,

I'm offended and all, but,
When you go and call me a slut,
I'm grinning and I giggling,
Cute, Diamond-ring wiggling,

Thanks for the Jewelry,
Fumbling tomfoolery,

Wrinkles and money,
For a taste of honey,

But you had to be married,
And your burden I carried,

And then you got noble,
A heart made of opal!

But I wasn't eighteen,
And what's even more keen,

I flushed the pills,
Baby, no more bills,
For me, now that I bear,
True love's gift of fear,

I think I shall call him,
Casanova, what you weren't,
Darling how's it feel,
When a douche-bag is burnt?

Panties: A Romance Ruined

This is a small poem I made up spontaneously today. It may or may not be any good but I like it!

Secret and pretty panties,

Belonging to a secretive and pretty woman,

Are a pleasure to behold,

Precious like gold,

One can never be too old,

To smartly snap them or obssess,

On every floral filigree no less,

And to feel through them,

And to undo them,

To play, and now we get edgy,

I give my Love a super-atomic wedgie!

New and Improved!

Alright, I have made a few small changes to Time. I am also personally partial to that particular poem and believe it needs a second outing! So here it is:

http://crowcaw.blogspot.com/2007/10/time.html

Enjoy!

EDIT: Also made some changes to "I Loved a Woman", and added a nice graphic I photoshopped to it. (apologies to J.W. Waterhouse)

Here it is:

http://crowcaw.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-loved-woman.html

Enjoy++ !

Poetry and Me

This is another silly experiment with no breaks till the end; hold your breath!

I could not write a poem,
More than I could make a golem,
I do not have the power,
To even describe a flower,
I’ve been rotten at verse,
Since I was born first,
I can’t make a rhyme,
With all the world and time,
My vocabulary is restricted,
My vision constricted,
Eloquence eludes me,
“Incompetent” concludes me,
I try to find inside me,
Words that would please thee,
Instead there are toys,
And things and worlds made for boys,
Nothing that I could show,
A woman so she should know,
That I am not just an empty vessel,
A whistling kettle,
Or a dirty ladle,
A plain thing by any label,
Or a stray dog,
Or a passing fog,
But I am myself,
Who cannot rhyme or much else,
But who is trying his best,
To live up to the test,
Of contradicting myself,
And before I say anything else,
I plead that though illiterate,
I am not inadequate,
To be your friend,
To the end,
My words are not doves,
But I can love,
Like a moth does fire,
Like a bard his lyre,
Like a warrior his blade,
A man a maid,
So sample this simple taste,
Slowly, without haste,
And then decide and see,
If my love pleases thee.

I Loved a Woman

NOTE: This is a slightly sentimental, whimsical and "wimpy" piece..

I loved a woman,
She was my heart’s desire,
Her splendor shone on my face,
My fancy did embrace,

I wooed her with words,
They flew round her like birds,
Shining and singing,
I hoped intoxicating,

But wine cannot be made drunk,
Nor a mirror hide truth,
She enjoyed my homage,
Ignored my hunger,

I told her my heart,
And I listened to hers,
Put wild flowers on her hair, and gossamer,
Driven by the laughter and love of her,

But it was I that swooned,
I brought her the moon,
She took it happily,
Somewhat summarily,

Whatever I gave her,
Already belonged to her,
And she never knew,
My ache as it grew,

She dropped petals on me,
Caressed with gentle breeze,
Her flowing curved lazily,
Her laughter shook happily,

Yet she never felt,
And she never thought,
That which I sought,
Before her I knelt,

She did not even imagine,
That one could wish without deserving,
So she gave me a passing waft,
An aroma cruel and soft,

And then it was evening,
She gladly declared her leaving,
Not even knowing, nor caring,
I watched her now despairing,

I said naught for pride,
She looked at me and knew this:
I could not say what I could not hide,
Tribute taken, departed with a kiss.