#28 - all we gotta do is get a preacher

Number four of George Carlin’s ‘Seven Dirty Words’

Drawing on ‘Dance of the Seven Veils’ from Exile in Guyville by Liz Phair. With (more) apologies...

A prophet rolls in on the wind and dust

that cakes the court and chokes all idle chatter ‒

a burning pilgrim laying bare the matter

of piety, society and trust.

So dance your dance and claim a gift that must

both lift the otherworldly veils and shatter ‒

a gift upon a heavy silver platter,

your gift of pain and joy, of dream and lust.

Then Johnny, you could rent me by the hour ‒

I’d open up just like some precious flower

whose scent may cause a man to lose his head,

but all that eyes and heart and tongue devour

will never get to grace our marriage bower ‒

‘cause Johnny, my love, you’re already dead.

RJT

#24 - Paridae

Number seven of George Carlin’s ‘Seven Dirty Words’...

Within the Aves there’s a family

where elocution varies on the fly ‒

the English often make it rhyme with ‘sky’,

Americans pronounce it ‘parody’.

However we conceive its prosody,

whatever way we try to classify,

there’s one thing that nobody can deny ‒

they are exemplars of things feathery.

Whenever noisy, social song is heard

their many species flit among the trees,

the Rusty, Dusky, Ashy and the Blue ‒

it’s safe to say that any hue will do.

So lift your head and turn to face the breeze,

and welcome home this paragon of birds.

RJT

#20 - Baise-moi

Number three of George Carlin’s ‘Seven Dirty Words’...

The French have many ways of saying ‘kiss’

(though ‘French kiss’ simply isn’t one of those,

it tends to just appear in English prose)

and listing some might go a bit like this ‒

there’s bisous bisous when friends reminisce,

embrasser gets you through the highs and lows,

plus biser for a peck on cheek or nose.

But one of them can be quite hit-and-miss:

while baiser as a noun is pretty sweet

(its practice is unlikely to disturb)

be careful not to use it as a verb

with any random stranger you may meet ‒

for if, by chance, their jaw don’t hit the floor,

you’ll end up with more than you bargained for...

RJT

#16 - La Mer(de)

Number one of George Carlin’s ‘Seven Dirty Words’

A re-imagining of the track from ‘Horses’ by Patti Smith. With apologies...

This sea, this sky, are stitched up with the land

as horses’ hooves shape iamb and trochee ‒

some simple syncopated poetry.

A boy steps forward, lifts his arms, the sand

cascades like blood-red water through his hands.

A girl leans on the parking meter, she

will dance in tongues, converse elliptically:

unlearn, untwist, uncover; understand.

Behind the mirror, Johnny conjures dreams

where butterflies are flapping in his throat,

where silver horses range the in-between.

The mirror cracks, with silence and with screams

that coalesce as one transcendent note ‒

and Johnny falls deep into the machine...

RJT

#12 - Oedipus at Colonus

Number six of George Carlin's ‘Seven Dirty Words’

After Sophocles...

The storytellers, oracles relate

how I have earned the enmity of men,

how I have killed one of my kin and then

slept with another, slept and sealed my fate.

The whims of law and history dictate

if ignorance is a defence, and when

the wheels of war and time roll on again,

if all our little lives are worth debate.

So lead me sister/daughter through the grove

and raise my eyes to what I cannot see,

then I will bathe and pray and shed the knave.

Go tell the world that, at the end, I strove

to cleanse the land of all impurity

and gift one man the secret of my grave.

RJT

#8 - long ago and far away

Number two of George Carlin’s ‘Seven Dirty Words'

A reworking of one of my own poems - ‘A Boat Made of Bottles’ from ‘The Vodka Diaries’...

Build me a boat made of bottles ‒ elope

by latitudes ever illusory,

by winds and by waves all imaginary ‒

a craft of confusion, vodka and dope.

Riding the currents with just enough rope,

murmur a mystery meant only for me ‒

two lovers adrift on a wine-red sea

with a cargo of tears, kisses and hope.

I dream you build a harbour, that I may

be able to return again one day.

But all my fantasies extinguish trust

as good intentions crumble into dust.

For lives are built together, not alone ‒

good luck, and may your journey bring you home.

RJT

#4 - burn all the liars

Number five of George Carlin’s ‘Seven Dirty Words’

Borrowing (with all apologies) from ‘Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle’ by Kurt Cobain

Allegedly the response Frances Farmer gave when asked her profession by the police...

One day, they say, you will come back as fire

that sweeps in vengeance down through Puget Sound

to raze diseased Seattle to the ground ‒

one day, they say, you will become desire.

One day, they say, you will burn all the liars

whose fictions twist the wide-eyed world around

in halls of ash where hypocrites are crowned ‒

one day, they say, you will escape the pyre.

Proscenium arch and movie camera frame

a woman chained, an antiseptic bed,

a fading tableau of vicarious shame,

a kind of triumph for the honest dead,

as cops and robbers play their endless games ‒

we still remember every word you said...

RJT