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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Monday, May 23, 2011

Eat Up!

Tournier's Banquet Scene With a Lute Player courtesy of Magpie Tales 67
I may be a courtesan
But I have got a master plan
I'm going to escape these men
They won't bother me again. 

See the one playing the lute?
He's nothing more than a brute.
And the one with the eye glass?
He is nasty, cruel, and crass.
The other two are even worse-
They sport habits most perverse!

They wanted a little food
To set the tone, to set the mood.
Over dinner I will serve
Exactly what they most deserve.

Lots of arsenic should suffice
To end their dinners off real nice.
They may detect metallic taste
Never suspect their meal was laced.

And by the time they long for bed
If all goes well, they should be dead.
The final course I save for me-
When they are gone, then I am free!

submitted for Magpie Tales 67

20 comments:

versebender said...

Yikes...that makes a clean sweep of it. good job. Vb

Kathe W. said...

hahahah good one!

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

I enjoyed your story poem!

Lyn said...

Lethal, but very tasty..quite a tale!!

earlybird said...

Excellent! I like the idea of a good poisoning over dinner!

darev2005 said...

About a maid I'll sing a song
Sing rickety tickety tin
About a maid I'll sing a song
Who didn't have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong
She did every one of them in, them in
She did every one of them in.

One morning in a fit of pique
Sing rickety tickety tin
One morning in a fit of pique
She drowned her father in the creek
The water tasted bad for a week
And we had to make do with gin, with gin
We had to make do with gin

Her mother she could never stand
Sing rickety tickety tin
Her mother she could never stand
And so a cyanide soup she planned
The mother died with the spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin
He face in a hideous grin.

She weighted her brother down with stones
Sing rickety tickety tin
She weighted her brother down with stones
And sent him off to Davey Jones
All they ever found were some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin
Occasional pieces of skin.

She set her sister's hair on fire
Sing rickety tickety tin
She set her sister's hair on fire
And as the smoke and flame rose higher
Danced around the funeral pyre
Playing a violin, olin
Playing a violin.

One day she had nothing to do
Sing rickety tickety tin
One day she had nothing to do
She cut her baby brother in two
And served him up as an Irish stew
And invited the neighbors in, bors in
Invited the neighbors in.

And when at last the police came by
Sing rickety tickety tin
And when at last the police came by
Her little pranks she did not deny
To do so she would have had to lie
And lying she knew was a sin, a sin
And lying she knew was a sin.

And just one thing before I go
Sing rickety tickety tin
And just one thing before I go
There's something I think that you ought to know
They had no proof, so they let her go
And they say that she's tall and thin, and thin
They say that she's tall and thin.

My tragic tale I won't prolong
Sing rickety tickety tin
My tragic tale I won't prolong
I hope you like my little song
You've yourself to blame if it's too long
You should never have let me begin, begin
You should never have let me begin.

With all credit for the words to Tom Lehrer. Your poem reminded me so much of him.

Lolamouse said...

I LOVE this song!!! If I weren't already married, I dance to this at my wedding!

Helen said...

Oh Mouse ... this is great!!!!

Brian Miller said...

ha. you know whatever it takes to get that freedom, no? just desserts?

poetry-diary.com said...

Lovely poem. Captures the picture - I'm on your side from the start!

roughwaterjohn said...

Brilliant take on the prompt, loved the flow and rhyme, and the words were enthralling, thanks!

thingy said...

Very dark and delicious. Love it.

Lena said...

Now, a cook I'm not, but a recipe like this sounds appealing. Must get more ingredients in!

Lola - that was, again, a read that rocked!

Doctor FTSE said...

Very good response to this week's prompt. Well poisoned!

Anna :o] said...

Just deserts eh? Lovely stuff!

Anna :o]

Sue J said...

Excellent and entertaining poem. Thanks!

gsb3 said...

Though I'm not the vengeful type, I'm am on the side of the young woman, who certainly seems to be in a bad situation. So, if that is the only way she can think to escape these nasty men (or whoever will get his hands on her in the end), then I'm all for it. Good imagination and nice writing. Great job!

Mary said...

Good to see they get their come-uppance !!! She looked so sweet and innocent in that pale blue dress :-) A fun take on the picture.

Tumblewords: said...

Oh, that's so wicked I'm hiccuping from laughing so hard! Great job!

Steve Isaak said...

Solid, lively, tale-telling write.