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Spare me your gratuitous happiness
contentment hurts my rage
your depressing optimism
compels me to cut off your hands
so clap my action
with the remaining fraction
and let's advance a stage

Shade your fucking sunshine
it's just yellow highlighter on your page
your bouncing placidity
has lost its liquidity
and compels me to cut off your legs
so run in my direction
with the remaining section
and let's advance a stage

Bottle your bastard bonhomie
"Cheers!" for no more cheerfulness please
your willingness to compromise
compels me to remove your eyes
but look, it's really no surprise
blindness at your age
let's not advance a stage
let's fuck away my rage

It's being so chirpy keeps us going.
As miky said to the beek.

... I'm just glad there's a happy ending... v i o l e t

Bloody good poem

Ok, I'm making a mental note now and will never be jolly when Michael is nearby, it could result in catastrophic consequences.

For some reason I don't like the "placidity" and "liquidity" part.

Regards
Laura

Michael - you've got some pretty nice bite there, well done.

good last line - reminds me of a song mediocre song that's good if your in a certain type of mood - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODO_s2to82g

A happy ending Violet - hardly.
Michael's N and his happy clappy severed hands and legs lover have gotten blood all over the fuckin place - where the hell did the towels go?

...okay, it's 5:30 a.m., I just woke up from a nightmare, and have decided not to self destruct for the purpose of his lordship's "pome" (this will only make sense to the two of you who saw last night's post).... v.

I suppose it's partially the effect of being surrounded by murderous murderers.

I once took a young girl (14-ish) into my home. Her father was non-existent in her life, and her mother had troubles I don't know much about. She'd been staying with some cousins for a while, but they were complaining of the expense, so she came to live with me. She didn't stay long, but while she was with us, she had her own bedroom with a desk for studying, a suitable wardrobe, breakfast, lunch and dinner every day, etc. It wasn't a life she was used to, and she had trouble adjusting. She was uncomfortable with all the comfort.

It seems you're writing of an extreme case. You know, in your heal-clicking, maniacally laughing, oversexed way.

I wrote this ditty straight after I had completed my closing speech in a murder case and couldn't leave court whilst other counsel were having their turn. My thoughts shaded to Christmas, even though I am not myself a Buddhist, and my challenge was to write something soft and gentle. My pome was to set a contrast with the violence around me at work. The rhythm of the piece is, as you have correctly observed, childlike, the content is innocent. Call it mere escapism if you must, but am I not allowed some simple seasonal fantasy?

Joney wrote:Ok, I'm making a mental note now and will never be jolly when Michael is nearby, it could result in catastrophic consequences.

For some reason I don't like the "placidity" and "liquidity" part.

Regards
Laura

Laura, please don't apologise- together we can work on your failing about those lines.

Violet wrote:... I'm just glad there's a happy ending... v i o l e t

exactly, well spotted.

Byron wrote:It's being so chirpy keeps us going.
As miky said to the beek.

I actually said it through my beak, do check that spelling, my Learned Colleague.

Cate wrote:Michael - you've got some pretty nice bite there, well done.

good last line - reminds me of a song mediocre song that's good if your in a certain type of mood - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODO_s2to82g

A happy ending Violet - hardly.
Michael's N and his happy clappy severed hands and legs lover have gotten blood all over the fuckin place - where the hell did the towels go?

yes, I played it and it was ok for a morning after I had had 2 hours sleep!

I ate the towels (not really, that's a lot of flannel)

Manna wrote: It seems you're writing of an extreme case. You know, in your heal-clicking, .

heal clicking, are you referring to my bereavement counselling? Do you really think we train clients like dogs?

Joney wrote:Ok, I'm making a mental note now and will never be jolly when Michael is nearby, it could result in catastrophic consequences.

For some reason I don't like the "placidity" and "liquidity" part.

Regards
Laura

a few weeks ago I was whingeing here about the too easy way to write cute phrases of contradiction, as I said Leonard Cohen does with his "invincible defeat" in 1000 Kisses. I think "your depressing optimism" is a bit different as it one person's view of another's quality, so it bears no inherent contradiction. The "bouncing placidity" doesn't work well enough, not enough contrast between bouncing and placidity. The choice should be either another one of those simple twists

for example

"your violent placidity
has lost its liquidity"

or instead I could take a different approach, no clash just a consistent narrative such as

"your seeping placidity
has lost its liquidity".

Actually, I have pretty much gone off "liquidity" here completely.

I used it, of course, in the sense of validity but seeping is not a bad image, makes me think of blood crawling across the floor, closer, closer, here it comes everyone, can't you feel the need to hitch up your clothes a little, oh but your white shoes are showing crimson, you don't feel so good anymore, go and have a nice lie-down, that's better, but what's that creaking, there's no-one else at home, OH SHIT THE DOOR-HANDLE IS TURNING, IF I AM NOT BACK IN A FEW MINUTES PLEASE CALL THE POLICE, SHIT NO NO NO DON'T DO THAT NO