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?

Time

This one I rather like. If something looks a bit obscure or nonsensical here, it's probably an allusion. Those who "get" these will enjoy the poem better.


Shivering leaves,
A running breeze,
They come and they fade away,
Starting bright and ending in gray,
A question is thrown,
The answer is borne,
By the carrier of all things,
The mother of all things,
Then they fade and fall,
Dying, the fate of them all,

The sun warms and stills,
The light floods and fills,
Ghosts of night gone,
The angels have won,
They revel and rule,
Like all the other fools,
Then start to fail and tire,
Like a sputtering dying fire,
Having consumed themselves,
The light half-hearted dwells,
Knowing it is old,
Afraid, what before was bold,
The ghosts are born again,
A new cold plays then,
Brushing the leaves and feathers,
Running among tussocks and heathers,

They always forget, the fools,
They rejoice, men and ghouls,
As though they were needed,
They cry aloud, sometimes heeded,
By others who are passing,
The Silent One is laughing,
They live and play like they will always,
Reaching the same house, all their pathways,
Where they will eat clay and dream,
About nothing though it may seem,
The place of darkness and dust,
A lock eternal, covered in must,
What you wish you cannot have,
Gilgamesh or Adam, neither has,
Not Yahweh nor Zeus,
All will end as refuse,
We can only forget for a while,
Be fools and let our joy beguile,
So when you have nothing but day,
Rejoice, forget, laugh and play,
Reap your wheat and make your plan,
Man reaps life as time reaps man.