Tag Archives: fashion

WARNING

Since treasure rarely comes without a risk,
Peruse the side effects included here:
You might believe you are a baby deer
That’s hunted by a hungry basilisk*;
Your blood may turn to shrimp or lobster bisque,
And vital organs might then disappear;
Your back’s machine-ry, like a rusted gear,
May grind until you slip a spinal disc.

To pay for value’s one of Nature’s laws.
It thus applies to anti-aging cream.
Allow no side effects to be the cause
That makes you lack the face of which you dream.
Reduce your wrinkles, spots, and other flaws
Until your skin is smooth without a seam.

*a lethal mythological creature

“War”

I
In Love and War, what’s foul is labeled “fair”
(At least that’s what a lot of people claim).
For love of Fame to cause a war’s not rare—
Desire can turn to wild what once was tame,
And winners often are the bold who dare
To play as though contestants in the game
Obeyed, at most, a single ruthless rule:
That mercy is the virtue of a fool.

The present episode will illustrate
How flames of envy’s fiercely raging fire
Can burn a friendship ‘til what’s left is hate.
To save myself from readers’ anxious ire,
I’ll start my tale and end your restless wait
To hear my song of anger and attire:
I’ll tell how dearest friends were turned to foes
When Fate arrayed the two in matching clothes.

II
Once Missy Priss and Kimberley McQueen—
The heroines who occupy this episode—
Were friends as close as Earth had ever seen
(Or poet praised in eulogizing ode).
But, as a tower never known to lean
One day might crack and suddenly implode,
Some friendships crash as quickly to the ground
As lightning seen ahead of thunder’s sound.

The cause that brought their lovely friendship down
And made eternal rivals of the pair
Was nothing other than a gaudy gown
The ladies both were seen one day to wear.
The Queen of Fashion’s chrome and golden crown
Was not an ornament they’d gladly share.
The choice of dress appeared to each to say,
“A fearsome fashion war is underway.”

Once Missy saw the latest breaking news—
Which showed McQueen enjoying drinks and lunch
While wearing Missy’s style of gown and shoes—
She quickly ate her bowl of Cocoa Crunch,
Then rushed to find McQueen at Eats and Brews
(To give her face a bruising power punch).
On reaching Kimmy, Priss did what she’d planned—
She gave her face a not-so-helpful hand.

Then, Missy shrieked, “How dare you steal my style
And strut around as though it were your own!
That masterpiece, designed by Leonard Lyle,
Was meant to beautify my form alone.
And now the world will think that, all the while,
I’ve tried to be your slavish fashion clone.”
The bruised and bloodied Kimberly McQueen
Replied that Missy’s skin was turning green

(Which, readers know, is often Envy’s shade).
Then Kimmy said, “It’d be a sorry waste
To only dress a plain but haughty maid
In clothing suited more to royal taste.
If gowns could choose, they certainly would trade
A girl ignored for one who’s wildly chased.
If gowns could talk, they’d say, “I don’t delight
In clothing bottoms full of cellulite.”

Offended, Missy gave her gut a kick
(Each moment seemed to make her rage increase),
Yet, Kimmy’s hands delivered not a lick,
[But not because she sought to keep the peace—
She fought with words and never stone or stick
And favored most the Nasty Press Release
Of any lethal weapon one could choose
Because it helps to shape the public’s views].

III
The rage of Ajax Telamon denied
His prize of armor great Achilles wore—
The rage which drove the man to suicide
And then to Hades’ life-forsaken shore—
Would match the ladies’ rage if multiplied
Perhaps a hundred thousand times or more.
…And feeding anger better left unfed
Were words the House’s chatty servants* said.

*The Press [servants in the House of Fame]

The servants formed a pair of warring camps
(A group on Kim’s and one on Missy’s side).
The words they wrote and spoke became the lamps
That served the voting public as a guide
To granting Popular Approval Stamps
To Missy or the foe with whom she vied.
Debates about who best had worn the gown
Incited fights on streets in ev’ry town.

And soon the people also would debate
About* whether Missy should forgive
Or whether Kimmy’s acts had earned her hate.
Some thought it best to make one’s heart a sieve
(Which filters dross to reach a purer state*),
But others wondered how McQueen could live
And shouted, “Kim McQueen deserves the chair
For wearing what she had no right to wear.”

*meter trumps grammatical correctness

*What passes through the sieve,–and not the sieve, itself—reaches a purer state

“McQueen’s among the worst who have betrayed.
Aeneas leaving Dido’s sandy shore
And Brutus piercing Ceasar with his blade
Are slight compared to Kimmy’s act of war.”
To bloody Mars the warring parties prayed.
They crossed their hearts devoutly and then swore:
“By God and everything in which I trust,
I know my cause to be the one that’s just.”

Behind computer screens, each raging horde
Prepared to give the foes their just desserts.
With barbs they borrowed from a comment board
And “I Adore McQueen” or “Missy” shirts,
They armed themselves before they wildly warred
And caused the blood to flow in crimson spurts.
[All thought that Kim and Missy’s bitter feud
Would only end if civil war ensued.]

IV
…To tell of tears and blood the people shed
Surpasses any mortal poet’s skill.
To say that armies drowned in seas of red
Or piles of corpses made a human hill
(Or any metaphor a poet’s said)
Would not deserve the name of “overkill.”
Instead of seeking heights I can’t attain,
I’ll leave the rest to ev’ry reader’s brain.

I’ll only tell you what the war achieved:
As often happens when two armies strive
To win the crown for causes much believed,
The heroic leaders kept themselves alive
While soldiers’ friends and kin were much bereaved
That loving husband John did not survive.
And, once the course of war was fully run,
The parties both exclaimed, “Hurray, we’ve won!”

Servants of Higher Culture [ENTERTAINMENT NEWS]

[“Servants* in the House of Fame”] from The New House of Fame by Paul “Whitberg” Burgess

You’ll have attendants noting what you eat
And writing on how many times you chew
While others talk about your famous feet
And ponder how you tie a tennis shoe
Or what you wear when on the toilet’s seat
Or—if you’re British—going to the loo.
The House’s servants busily will strive
To analyze all moments you’re alive.

[Some servants buzz, as busily as bees,
about one’s style of skirt or party dress
and if it complements her waist and knees.
Another servant writes a merry mess
about her blouses and accessories–
or if she should apply more blush or less.
(Without the gossip that they write and say,
How would we ever make it through the day?)
——————————————————————
And given slightest knowledge of details,
the servants analyze one’s luck in love:
“It seems a famous marriage always fails
–As though an order came from high above–
When Mister wears a coat that’s lacking tails,
And Missus wears a single gloomy glove.
By body language one is not misled.
Observe the way he holds his handsome head.”
————————————————————-
These clever critics serve our planet’s cultures–
with witty charm and penetrating sight–
(…As carcasses are served by kindly vultures. )
Productive words they say on shows or write
Construct their classic, tow’ring verbal sculptures
(…Less salutary than a serpent’s bite. )
Their words on what a star will do or wear
Defend our souls from dismal, dark despair.]

A Pimp in the Garden*

2 tasteless limericks and a tasteless quatrain about pimps
[By Pimpin’ Paul Burgess…at the lowest point of his artistic career;)]

A Pimp in the Garden [parts I and II]
“Part I”
I have heard that a pimp is a man
who will water the plants when he can.
He is fond of the ‘hose’,
and it’s said by his bros
that of gardens he’s quite a big fan.

“Part II” [aka the ruh-ruh-remix]
Said a pimp, “Why would anyone think
that a person wants ‘hose’ that won’t kink?
Now, exchange these, my bros,
for some kinkier ‘hose'”
[He]then departed from Gardening Inc.

“A Pimp and a Bee—A Fable on the Value of Obsessive Consumerism”
A pimp once came across a bee
Prepared to start a stinging spree.
The pimp, alas, it could not sting—
For blinding was his shiny bling.

*The politically correct version would not work with the meter:

*”A vendor of adult pleasure is a human being
who will water the plants when he or she can.
He or she is fond of the water-spraying device (“hose”, which is homophonous with a derogatory term that vendors of adult pleasure and artists of spoken ‘music’ enjoy using in reference to women)
etc…

[Blame my wife for the terrible “Pimp” limericks…I was watering her plants when the terrible pun on “hoes”/”hose” begged me to write a limerick in which it was featured…]

To Change your Life Forever…

Read the 5 daily limericks from Paul O’Burgess’s *5 Limericks A Day (to Keep the Dr. Away)[Day 15]…shameless, I know:)
“Jack and Jill and the Magic Pill”
A doctor invented a pill
That can turn any Jack to a Jill
But turns not a Pam
Into Harry or Sam
For reasons unclear to me still.

“Voodoo Exegesis”
To render more useful a text,
The preacher its meaning quite vexed.
With mirrors and smoke,
The meaning he’d choke
‘til with magical words it was hexed.

“Diet of Worms”
On discov’ring a worm in his bread,
A man wanted to bite off its head.
It’s entirely unclear
If the head or the rear
Was the part on which that man then fed.

“A Kind Old Zealot”
There was once a man who would heed
The words of a book he did read—
Which told him to kill
The folks on the hill
To ensure they would nevermore breed.

“Piggy Wiggy”
There’s a man who ensures that he saves
The hair from his face when he shaves–
And weaves with it wigs
That he gives to the pigs
Who provide the amusement he craves.

 

“The Death of Hercules*” (or “Hercules and Deianira”) [Morals from Mythology]by Paul Burgess

“The Death of Hercules*” (or “Hercules and Deianira”) [Morals from Mythology]*

Beware of garments given by your wife.
A shirt one day might take away your life.

*The mighty hero who was killed by a poisoned shirt…

“Ermine Elle”

“Ermine Elle” [a “brats” poem by Paul Burgess]

While wearing Mother’s ermine coat,
Elle looked exactly like a stoat.
Believing she was surely one,
A hunter went to get his gun.