The Equestrian Statue
I am an Equestrian Statue
"For King and Queen my honour serves"
(People pointing at my Horses Dick
Is Getting on my nerves.)
(c) Marjorie Razorblade 2007
Comments: And there I was trying to be
sensible and write thought provoking prose. Admirable. Now I feel like being stupid.
The Lovesong of
Marjorie Razorblade (aged 41)
When I am forty one i'm sure
No-one will know me anymore
And will I still have laughter lines like trails?
Of silver slugs and snotty snails?
Or will I have nothing to laugh about and cry and moan about?
Its something I am afraid of
But something I seriously doubt
If no-one cares then I don't care!
If they say look at Marjorie with her silver hair
But I'm old
I'm old
I will wear pajamas all day
And will not do as I am told
And if I fall in love- what then?
At forty one still beguiled by men?
Look back in retrospect to when I was thirty
Sexy Slutty a little bit dirty
And back to my twenties when I was shy and flirty
And now i'm somewhere in between-
Demure and heartfelt
And fucking obscene
Look at Marjorie with her Silver hair
I'm fourty one-
I don't care!
I don't care!
I'll shop in Marks and Spencers for underwear
And be thankful my thighs never see the light of day
If I meet a man, he'll have to pay
I take American Express and Diners Club
But nothing else, ok?
So Love might be waiting - Tuesday on a park bench
Love might be Spanish or speak regional dialect French
But i'm not into Chateaux le Ton 45 and Camenbert
I can't stand the stench
My laughter lines are sinking deeper
Still the insomniac or narcoleptic sleeper
And Aunt to demonic hoardes of brats
Who talk like gangsters and wear white spats
And my hair is white and worn in plaits
Love to Marjorie Razorblade in her autumn years
Will see wizened features and hair behind ears
And sculpture and kilns and pots and pans
Painted toenails and liver spotted hands
"That witch down the road who no-body understands"
Cackling riot my guitar i'm strumming
On my forty 1st birthday I might take up drumming
And then i'll be run out of town to the border
With a writ pinned to the church doors an injunction
AN ORDER!
And maybe i'll marry for the free bottle of vino
But only if he looks like a young Al Pacino
Or has his own mansion or is a bit of a toff
But he shouldn't talk too much as it just pisses me off
I'll still be a girl
I'll still laugh at a terrible joke
I'll still find excuses to roll one up and smoke
And i'll still occasionally be told:
"You're quite masculine/a tomboy/laddish/ a bit like a bloke"
And by then i'd be used to it - a ducks back and water
Or I'll take it all personally and revolt and I oughta
I'll be in my forties and nothing cuts me off shorter
In fact now I think of it
Its quite a tall order to accept ones downfalls in view of another
I don't take that from friends, my father or mother
My dementia is beginning
And my masculinity you fucking cretin
Is winning
In my forties i'll be smarter
Greyer
Still won't be the sleeper
I'll fall in love a thousand times
It'll never go much deeper
And love well heavens above
Its only something to which I take pity
I'll still wear my heart on my sleeve
And get lost in the city.
(c) Marjorie Razorblade 2007
Comments: Straight off the cuff in 4 minutes. It's
just how I expect my life to be I guess. Its definitely not normal- which is a shame. I'd like a normal life sometimes.
The Black Dog Blues
He has the Black Dog Blues
Overwhelming depression
But I get the impression
That I could help
Even for five minutes alone with him
For something obscene
And nothing but a smoking gun and a jar of vaseline
I haven't had the pleasure but many people think it's common
That we get together every so often
And share our Black Dog Blues
But if I wanted to tell you all my secrets
That wouldn't be the one i'd choose
What goes on behind the closed door
(And yes there are still some)
Is not for anyone
But me
And no-one.
The Black Dog Blues are something I don't have
Mine are the birds; they come in droves
And the birds I love and loathe to love are the ones I have to set free
Some I don't want to
But they always fly away
They are the as yet unwritten nameless mythical Phoenix
Unwritten
I fear the Phoenix
The Jay and the Eagle
The Raven the Seagull
There have been many
But most don't even know they flew into my life
and straight back out again
So while I cant understand the Black Dog blues babe
I can understand the pain.
(c) Marjorie Razorblade 2007
Comments: For someone who people know very little about- he's a big personality
with a Big Black Dog in tow. He's a good bloke. Though likes to make me do way to much coke and generally be badly behaved
at almost every opportunity.
Pink
I’m
still a girl;
Sleep
with my bedtime bear
Like
the colour pink and shoes with cats on
Anything
fluffy
Sucking
my thumb
*
Blushing *
Think
babies are something adults make
I’m
not old enough
Or
sensible enough
For
babies
But
they’re pink
I
like anything pink,
Sing
in the bath
Call
my girlfriends all the time
Like
boys who are funny
And
flirting
Better
than sex is flirting
I’m
still a girl,
I
like pink.
©
Marjorie Razorblade 2007