Category Archives: Poetry

Today’s Theme Song

Blood Sweat & Tears’ Lucretia Mac Evil

Lucretia Mac Evil, little girl, what’s your game?
Hard luck and trouble, bound to be your claim to fame

Tail shakin’, home breakin,’ truckin’ through town
Each and every country mother’s son hangin’ ’round
Drive a young man insane, Evil, that’s your name

Lucretia Mac Evil, that’s the thing you’re doin’ fine
Back seat Delilah, that’s your sixth big jug of wine, woman

I hear your mother was the talk of the sticks
Nothin’ that your daddy wouldn’t do for kicks
Never done a thing worthwhile, evil woman child

Devil got you, Lucy under lock and key
Ain’t about to set you free
Signed, sealed and witnessed on the day you were born
No use tryin’ to fake him out, no use tryin’ to make him out
Soon he’ll be takin’ out his doom
What you goin’ do, oh Lucretia Mac Evil?

Honey, where have you been all night?
You hairs all messed up baby
An’ the clothes you’re wearin’ just don’t fit you right babe

Big daddy Joe’s payin’ your monthly rent
Tells his wife he can’t imagine where the money went
Dressin’ you up in style, evil woman child

Oh, Lucy you’re just so damn bad

For The Love Of Limericks & Dirt

One piggy was tasked to write Me poetry — a lot of poetry this past week, including limericks. This was one of My favorites because he unwittingly touched on one of My favorite things, entertaining Myself with piggies in the dirt.

There was a man near DC
Who groveled on his bruised knee
Please let me squirt
Right here in the dirt
And i’ll OINK the praises of thee!

Suckling On This, Piggies

Sir John Suckling wrote that a lover serves for the love of service, nothing more:

After all, the wages will not be high, for [his heart] hath been brought up under Platonics, and knows no other way of being paid for service than by being commanded more; which truth when you doubt, you have but to send to its master and your humble servant

He will follow her will blindly, asking not the reason:

Yet, hearing you have resolved it otherwise for me, my faith shall alter without becoming more learned upon it, or once knowing why it should do so.

Though he is not ashamed to worship her, he knows that he has no more claim to her beauty & favors than any man have to light and beauty, secrecy is essential:

though you have left behind you faces whose beauties might well excuse perjury in others, yet in me they cannot, since to the making that no sin love’s casuists have most rationally resolved that she for whom we forsake ought to be handsomer than the forsaken, which would be here impossible.

…yet since the world is full of profane eyes, the best way, sure, is to keep all mysteries from them, and to let privacy be (what indeed it is) the best part of devotion.

And always, he accepts both his own nature and hers:

And now, since I know your ladyship is too wise to suppose to yourself impossibilities, and therefore cannot think of such a thing as making me absolutely good, it will not be without some impatience that I shall attend to know what sin you will be pleased to assign me