Colonial Suicide

[George.Wright]

Colonial Suicide

The blood orange sun was sinking, as I climbed to the top
Surveying the new city, surveying the whole bloody lot
Rivers of gold and dark Medusa snakes moving bright
A castellation of skyscrapers silhouetted in the night

And the orange moon smirks over the cityscape
But wants to be presiding instead, over the olive tree rape
Shimmering and waving down a Helicon deep well
Where only Latin lovers go to kiss and tell

As the white Spanish horse rises without a rider
Manages to kick at the air beside her
Steaming nostrils and crazy elemental wide eyes
That's where I chose to tell her those lies

Because, the truth hung on the veils of her gypsy shawl
Where the garment is important and language means nothing at all
While I lost the reasoning of all time and space
As i examined the beautiful contours of her angelic Spanish face

Suddenly, I was Pesagus flying through the air
A dream is just a dream and a stare is just a stare
As the snakes came up to kiss me full on the face
A crumpled, lifeless, bloody mess, a colonial disgrace

Georges

This poem is written for and dedicated to my darling Violet, who resides in the city of Scrapers, New York.

[Violet]

My dearest Georges,

You have deflowered me in this act of poetry dedication and avowed inspiration, since none before you ever thought to woo me in such an idyllically romantic and chivalrous manner... As is usual with your dark and sensual blend, it's difficult to come up with any one interpretation... all orangey and snakey this time, and sliding into a pit, only to rise up again, Pegasus-like -- so to be slaughtered at the end of it?

I love you,

Violet



AND NOW, DEAR GEORGES (and innocent bystanders), I THOUGHT I'D ADD HERE THE PROMO MATERIAL FOR THIS THREAD, TAKEN FROM THE END OF OUR "COW" THREAD (my love)...

Re: Turn your cow eyes away.....
by Violet on Fri Nov 14, 2008 3:04 pm

Okies Violet

This seems a good moment to now formally say


The End

A Violet and Georges Gothic production.

Adieu.


Sir Georges.

ps Watch out for Part 2 of this saga, at a picture house in the Future,............ baby I have seen the future and it is murder..........

NOTE TO VIEWERS -- UH, READERS... PART II of this searing saga is now being brought to you on the following George.Wright thread:


COLONIAL SUICIDE

(a.k.a. NATURAL BORN THRILLERS)...

STARRING...

GEORGE WRIGHT as GEORGES
and [whoever Violet really is] as VIOLET


THE TWO UNLIKELY LOVERS ARE HELL BENT (or at least Georges is(ez) ON DOING GOD AWFUL THINGS, NOT JUST TO EACH OTHER, BUT, WELL, TO EVERYONE AROUND THEM... A TIMELESS TALE (INVOLVING THAT ETERNAL CHASING OF TAIL), AND A STARTLING LOOK AT SWEET VIOLET FLOWER'S CORRUPT DEFLOWERING... WILL SHE BE ABLE TO KEEP ALIVE HER HERETOFORE UNDYING LOVE FOR HER BELOVED KNIGHT, SIR GEORGES (WHO NOW WEARS DARK SUNGLASSES INSTEAD OF A VISOR)? THIS IN THE FACE OF GEORGES' DARKISH, EVEN DANKISH TENDENCIES?... OR WILL SHE BE UTTERLY DISILLUSIONED BY HIS NEED TO DRIVE OUT WEST AND START A RANDOM AND BLOODY SHOOTING SPREE FOR NO REASON AT ALL?... ALL THIS IS IN STORE, AND NO DOUBT MORE (GIVEN THE WRITERS HAVEN'T DECIDED ON VERY MUCH YET)... SO, HOP ON OVER TO THAT OTHER THREAD (THAT IS, IF YOU HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO DO)...

(OH -- HOW COULD I FORGET?)... AND WHAT OF LORD M.?... GIVEN HIS UNRESOLVED FEELINGS FOR THE FAIR MAIDEN, VIOLET (AND FOR WOMEN IN GENERAL, IT SEEMS), WHAT SICK AND CRYPTIC SEEMING DANGERS MIGHT HE SURREPTITIOUSLY CONCOCT FOR OUR UNSUSPECTING (ALBEIT SUSPICIOUS SEEMING AT TIMES HIMSELF) DANKISH KNIGHT? AND WILL GEORGES (STILL PRONE TO HIS "GOOD" SIDE GIVEN VIOLET'S TIRELESS FOSTERING OF THAT IN HIM) EVER TRULY UNDERSTAND THE VILE AND MALIGNANT NATURE OF HIS LORDSHIP'S INSIDIOUSLY UNDERHANDED OBTUSENESS?... SO, ONCE AGAIN IT IS URGED THAT YOU HOP ON OVER TO THAT OTHER THREAD (THAT IS, IF YOU HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO DO)...


A (conflicted) Violet and Georges Gothic Production

[George.Wright]

My Dear Violet,
Let us depart from New York and go on not a shopping spree, but a killing spree in the West. Let us lustfully make love under the stars in an open convertabile and the deserts shall steam with our passions. Let us find the Lord M and give him his just desserts for denying us both, our love sooner...... For he has wasted our precious loving time.........Violet, you look all sexy all covered in blood.......

Love Georges.

[Violet]

... Thus Spake Zarathustra... or, in other words, Georges... darling... just what are you proposing here???

... oh, I get it... it must have been my "Natural Born Thrillers" mention on that "Cow" thread... hmm... Let me think about this a minute... I do admire your enthusiasm... and I do love you profoundly and eternally, and so it hardly seems likely that I would let you go on such a random and violent spree out West without me... I mean, at least I could try and hold you back some, wherever and however I am able to I mean... But let's not kill any Native Americans, if you don't mind (that sequence, I recall, in the "Killers" version of the story, I mean, was particularly contemptible)... Oh, God, does this mean I have to have Rodney Dangerfield slobbering all over me? and as my father? no less... Oh, that's right, you kill him, I think... hmm... I guess violence isn't always all that bad then... let me consider this more carefully...

Let's listen in on Violet's thoughts:

... give me back my broken night... my mirrored room, my secret life, it's lonely here, there's no one left to torture... give me absolute control, over every living soul, and lie beside me, baby, that's an order... give me crack and anal sex, take the only tree that's left, stuff it up the hole in your culture... give me back the Berlin wall, give me Stalin and St. Paul, I've seen the future, brother... it is murder...

Violet imagines herself wearing very very lowcut cutoffs, with a sexy midriff... her skin is very white, she's wearing red lipstick... she looks in the mirror... now it seems it's Leonard taking over with these song lyrics and music, as Violet starts to dance, suddenly imagining herself with her lover, Georges, as they race around at a frantic pace in that hot classic "Killers" convertible...

...Things are going to slide, slide in all directions, won't be nothing, nothing you can measure anymore... the blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it's overturned the order of the soul... When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant... When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)...I wonder what they meant... When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant... You don't know me from the wind, you never will, you never did, I'm the little jew who wrote the Bible. I've seen the nations rise and fall, I've heard their stories, heard them all, but love's the only engine of survival. Your servant here, he has been told, to say it clear, to say it cold: it's over, it ain't going any further. And now the wheels of heaven stop, you feel the devil's riding crop, get ready for the future: it is murder...

Violet's again imagining herself with Georges in that car, as they pull over so that they can perform a secret wedding ceremony... Violet's long, in this case black veil (Georges insisted it be black*) drawn out by the wind over the very steep and treacherous seeming bridge they are standing on... Georges takes Violet into his arms, kissing her deeply, finally feeling her to be his entirely... heart and soul -- forevertide, as he calls it (being from those dankish wetlands)... Then he takes her right there, entering her wholly, as the sheer black veil violently wraps around them in the furious wind...

...Things are going to slide, slide in all directions, won't be nothing, nothing you can measure anymore; the blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it's overturned the order of the soul. When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant... When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant... When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant... There'll be the breaking of the ancient western code... Your private life will suddenly explode... There'll be phantoms, there'll be fires on the road, and the white man dancing... You'll see a woman hanging upside down; her features covered by her fallen gown, and all the lousy little poets coming round tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson... and the white man dancin'... Give me back the Berlin wall, give me Stalin and St Paul, give me Christ or give me Hiroshima; destroy another fetus now, we don't like children anyhow... I've seen the future, baby: it is murder... Things are going to slide, slide in all directions, won't be nothing, nothing you can measure anymore; the blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it has overturned the order of the soul. When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant...When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant... When they said (they said) REPENT (repent) REPENT (repent)... I wonder what they meant...

Violet awakes, as if from -- well either a nightmare or some kind of wondrous dream (when it involves Georges, she can never quite tell which):

Okay, Georges... I'll go with you...


[edit: I was enjoying re-reading this tonight when I saw a REPENT passage in need of some repenting... v.] [*As regards the black veil, I don't altogether recall, but I have a feeling the veil would have been black in Oliver Stone's "Killers" version of this tale... meanwhile, Violet, it seems, would have preferred something more lavender in color, accompanied by a sweet wedding bouquet of violets... this, as opposed to the near black roses her black-romantic Georges (in the sense of disposition) chose for her... Georges, I would add, still seeks to make of this new (secret) suicide-bride of his, a darkish Goth princess in his own darkish-dankish image...] [... to be continued, I'm sure... v.]

[mickey_one]

.





.

[George.Wright]

Jesuuusss, Violet

You have me totally intrigued...........


A Speechless Georges.

[George.Wright]

Lord M,
Hat's off to you for a stirring song, well written and composted.

Georges

ps I still think of you as a pretty white owl.

[Violet]

... Lord M... He giveth, and he taketh awayeth -- but whyeth? Canst thou not returneth your most splendid and suicidal parody... please? (eth?)

a disappointed Violet

... (hi Georgie porgie)...

[mickey_one]

One by one, the guests arrive
The guests are coming through
The open-hearted many
The broken-hearted few

And no one knows where the night is going
And no one knows why the wine is flowing
Oh love I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you
Oh . . . I need you now

And those who dance, begin to dance
Those who weep begin
And "Welcome, welcome" cries a voice
"Let all my guests come in."


And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now

And all go stumbling through that house
in lonely secrecy
Saying "Do reveal yourself"
or "Why has thou forsaken me?"

And no one knows where the night is going ...

All at once the torches flare
The inner door flies open
One by one they enter there
In every style of passion

And no one knows where the night is going ...

And here they take their sweet repast
While house and grounds dissolve
And one by one the guests are cast
Beyond the garden wall

And no one knows where the night is going ...

Those who dance, begin to dance
Those who weep begin
Those who earnestly are lost
Are lost and lost again

And no one knows where the night is going ...

One by one the guests arrive
The guests are coming through
The broken-hearted many
The open-hearted few

And no one knows where the night is going ...


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





One by one, the threads arrive
The posts are coming through
They start so fucking many
But the good they are so few


And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now

And those who write, begin to write
Those who crit begin
"Not welcome, not welcome" cries My Lord
"Let all my guests fuck off"


And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now


And they go stumbling through the threads
in no bloody secrecy
Saying "let's expose ourselves"
or "Why has thou forfucken me?"


And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now

All at once the nostrils flare
The Knight, his flies are open
Inch by inch she enters there
With her vial of poison

And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now

And here they eat their sweeties fast
Sugar mouse and ground nuts dissolve
And one by one the guests' wees blast
Against the garden wall

And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now

And those who write, begin to write
Those who crit begin
"Not welcome, not welcome" cries My Lord
"Let all my guests fuck off"


And no one knows where the Knight is going
And no one knows why her whine is flowing
Oh love he needs you
He needs you
He needs you
He needs you
Oh . . . He needs you now

[mickey_one]

I confess, the parody tribute took me 10 minutes, the bloody formatting and punctuation corrections have taken me about 30, ahhhhhh. His Lordship retires to the bath, Good Knight.

[Violet]

... lovely, I thank thee... v.

[George.Wright]

Good one M, you have me
Non returneth.

Violet and I thought you were on my side.

Sorry Face.

Your Name is Michael "Violet" Janus

a beast with two faeces or faces.

[mickey_one]

Good one M, you have me
Non returneth.

Violet and I thought you were on my side.

Sorry Face.

Your Name is Michael "Violet" Janus

a beast with two faeces or faces.

oh, you are referring to the Janus Anus, that much is plainus. now my water is running, and I need to catch it up....

[George.Wright]

Sorry M

Your academic wit is much more polished than my Swampland drawl.

I was only educated in the school of life.

Anyways, enjoyed the crack.

Georges.

[mickey_one]

I was only educated in the school of life.

Anyways, enjoyed the crack.

Georges.

crap. firstly you were expelled from the School of Life, and secondly I too enjoyed the crack (but not in a gay way).