Tag: masquerade

Do I confuse you? Well that’s sad –
I just like jokes and word games too,
playing neat tricks to amaze
and dazzle your admiring gaze.

I’m no servant nor a slave
but would like to help you if I can …
at your service if you call
politely, or don’t call me at all.

I work hard for decent pay ..
for nothing if it suits me to.
I clear the way and open doors –
you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.

I speak the truth as well I may
and do expect the same from you.
I meet everyone with trust –
cheat me once and then just ..

.. don’t expect a second chance.
You’re on your own and in the dark
and somewhere there’s a nasty gnome
who’s not telling your way home.

I chase women, that is true –
it’s one thing that I like to do,
but don’t fear I’m planning to steal yours,
unless she wants me to, of course.

Some find me boring, even staid,
others weird and off-the-scale.
Did those extra rhymes slip past?
I told you that you should think fast.

There’s sense in regularity
but obsessively’s a trap,
so slip in something snakily
or you’ll end up with crap.

I’m no ursuper nor a saint
and, if you think I’m simple,
that for sure I ain’t.

I go by many names, it’s true –
Harlequin is one
but elsewhere, please excuse .. Eshu!

As I was saying, I’m somewhat difficult
to pin down – a tricky clown
and even too, at times, occult.

Some say I am a nancy –
I can be gay .. or straight,
whatever takes your fancy.

I get called ‘poor devil’,
a fool, a clot.
Let’s keep in on the level ..

.. a devil, yes, but poor I’m not,
or else I’m poor and not so bad –
depends which way you stir the pot.

I wear a mask but don’t we all?
Are my colours red or black?
As we say, ‘Well it’s your call’.

I turn this way and then that.
Watch closely or you’ll miss it –
I’m faster than a hungry bat.

Call me when you’re stuck for choices
at the crossroads or the gate.
Call me when you’re hearing voices ..

.. but don’t know what they’re telling you.
I don’t have answers – well not many –
but may know other ones who do.

I’m good at introductions – exits too.
How you use that information
is entirely up to you.

[more …]

The Capitano tells of his war wounds

“I lost my leg when we took Omdurman
but the Sultan’s surgeon sewed it back on.
I broke it again at the battle for Rome
but I just carried on and refused to go home.
At the siege of Prague I was shot in the head,
my soldiers went on and left me for dead.
This made me shaky and, at a ruck in Tyree,
a lousy horse-thief stamped on my knee,
so ignore the tales and dismiss them as bunk
that I injured it falling downstairs blind drunk.”

The Capitano

“I’m not Harlequin or the old Clown
nor any you’ve seen in your town,
no, I’m not one of those mentioned above,
my character’s plain and so is my fame –
I am the pirate of love.

In my suit of rich flames, with more reprobates,
I drum what you feel in your heart
and, if you like to play games and to reach heightened states,
you’re welcome to join and take part.

It is a matter of common record
that women like pirates aboard
so, when they hove to and I came alongside,
their hatches were soon open wide.

I do not boast anywise but many of my prizes –
succumbing after a long cannonade –
had already met brigands of different sizes
and allowed that my shots were well laid.

There must be something scaring about my proud bearing
that had women daring
to trial my skill with the sword,
but I was too caring,
despite the mask I was wearing,
and, all too soon, those pretties were bored.

I enjoyed taking capture and ravishing their honour
but valued the treasure I took.
Now I’ve quit the sea and don’t sail upon ‘er,
I just count up my hoard in a book.

Pierrot crawls out of bed late

“I sleep badly without her,
the white curve of her back isn’t there,
nor the the glow of her face turned towards me,
the taste of her neck, the smell of her hair.

I don’t know any more who I’m mourning,
they merge into one in my mind –
my goddess of tides and emotions
or a woman with a full moon behind.”

Pierrot visits his family

“I feel like an owl among the crows –
they watch me closely but do not attack.
Perhaps I look too weak and sleepy
to manage to fight back.

They seem so well-ordered
as they wheel into a flock,
while I am alien and solo –
the cuckoo not the clock.

They’re quite accepting of me
and even like me being there,
but I am more myself at night,
alone upon the air.