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The Crooner (a tragedy)

FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
edited April 2008 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Got my beret maladjusted, to the side:
A treatise in half-studied nonchalance.
Got my shirtcuffs hanging loose and swinging wide:
A contrast to the tautness of my pants.
I like to play my guitar out of tune,
And have my songs start on a minor “Baby.”
(I like to moan “Oh baby”, when I croon,
To rhyme it with the sudden, shocking, “Maybe”.)

Oh baby! Maybe if you came tonight
To some pub loft or cellar, just by chance,
You might overcome a rampant blight
Of proper music, grooving like a ponce
And clapping to my fey, pretentious ways.
For I’m what goes for culture, nowadays.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • harmless_little_f***harmless_little_f*** Posts: 8,005
    Ah yes.. you've quite the talent for humorous verse, my man. 'Chance' and 'Ponce' seem a bit forced, but you probably don't care for 'tis in the spirit of the poem that such a half-rhyme should blite the piece thusly.. thus to give it a more pronounced comedic air!

    Right, that's enough...
    'We're learning songs for baby Jesus' birthday. His mum and dad were Merry and Joseph. He had a bed made of clay and the three kings bought him Gold, Frankenstein and Merv as presents.'

    - the great Sir Leo Harrison
  • FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    I didn't rhyme "Chance" with "ponce."
  • FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    Oh, maybe I did. I dunno. Who cares.
  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    The second stanza is amazing. Is this going to be a song? I think it should be.
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
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