SWINGING FROM A CRYSTAL CHANDELIER

chandelier 2

Sometimes I am a ghost, sometimes an embalmer with but a dream
yet do believe me when I say I am worth not tuppence nor the contents of
a feckless tramps skimmer yet I know self-evident things the eyeless narcissistic miss

In the wake of any Great War
young men of exponential alias only
decompose in oozing trenches and
yarn dressed ‘old maid’s’ are dreamed-up
in ivory towers here, there and everywhere

Not her though, for she would never allow trepidation to trump mettle
Not for her to miss out on those symbolic treasured little scars and bruises along the way
Not for her a life without having swung stark naked and fit for a king from a Strass crystal chandelier in the company of a true lover or indeed on occasions an impasse of booted and suited rakes

For she never was The Tree of Life’s wasted blossom the busy bees would overlook
never the non-participant spending a lifetime scrutinizing a jobless letterbox and
missing the boat antecedent to a poignant deathbed last hurrah with no worthwhile
tale to offer the ferryman by way of reparation, her restiveness too well engrained
for her to suffer any of that old flannel

“I had a bore of an aunt who lived to 101 and died with quite the cleanest lungs and who had never drunk anything stronger than freshly squeezed summer fruits on the rocks” an abstract, no doubt idle throwaway flung in my direction at the roulette table in the Grand Casino, Deauville

Of her faults?
But the one!
She had no conception that
prime flesh is ephemeral
that virtue is all
Pooped-out too soon in my book

I bedded her of course yet
it irks her memory persists
in nostalgic jolts, for
I couldn’t stand the woman!

As I eluded to at the outset
sometimes I am a ghost
sometimes an embalmer with but a dream

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21 thoughts on “SWINGING FROM A CRYSTAL CHANDELIER

  1. Perhaps her attitude was just a bit too positive for you Mike…that and maybe that oddly pointed buttocks. I’m sure it’s ode to her extreme angle but still could not help but stare. Not that it distracted me from your superb writing…well maybe just a bit.

    1. A very interesting point for what I determined was a muscular bum is indeed a little pixie eared…most odd that! Still armed with that knowledge I’ll not need the cold bath Shirl has just run for me…don’t fancy her now!

    1. Funnily enough Shirl was just viewing the snap and agreed with Marissa…what a strange bum…I mean in these parts we have big bums – sometimes horrendously big yet not unique – but (as opposed to butt) this gal’s is a rare as Rocking Horse shite! By the way, belated thanks for your comment…the tale in small part is about someone I once knew better than I wished I had!

      1. I did notice that Shirl and Marissa have a point…. about the point.. I did not want to say that maybe all that hanging upside doon does for one’s arse! I did wonder if this was a little nostalgic trip….. There was a flavour about it that way!

  2. I had a similar aunt who made 102, but wasn’t made very much. A lovely woman, who never swung from chandeliers, but never said a bad word about anyone, not even me.

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