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A poem for you this dark evening


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(a poem)

I once traveled to Wuhan
with my brother Stan

I said, “Stan, man, 
why are we here in Wuhan?”

He said with a grin
above his whiskered chin,
“I’m looking to sin
at the Holiday Inn
in Wuhan, my identical twin.”

I was taken aback, 
reluctant to unpack
my bag and rucksack
at the Holiday Inn on that cul-de-sac

“But Stan, man, 
that’s a dangerous plan. 
It could shorten our lifespan
to cavort in Wuhan!”

But unpack we did
after paying 200 Quid
to a hotel clerk named Lee
and he handed the keys to me

I was in Room 301, Stan in 303
there was just a companion door between him and me
I shouted, “Say, there’s shampoo and conditioner for free,
and the minibar has brandy and Chablis!”

But Stan had dropped bags and was gone
and I was woebegone
not an uncommon phenomenon
This had happened before in Paris, and in Milan

So I sighed and rang up room service
feeling just a bit nervous
And I ordered the ragout fin
and decided to stay in

After supper and a shower
I read the Bible for an hour

I had cut myself shaving
and there was certainly no saving
the towel and the washcloth
and the blood-stained curtain swath

I prayed the Lord my soul to keep
And Stan’s too, and I began to weep
As you sow, so shall you reap
and I went to bed, and fast to sleep

I dreamt of dark images
and unholy, carnal scrimmages

Bodies writhing in pleasure
and agony even, in equal measure

There was a mysterious lady too
with a black dragon tattoo


I woke with a start at half past two
My pillow and bedclothes a bloody stew
The hotel door crashed in at 2:32
and into my room two Policemen flew

“There he is!” the clerk Lee hissed,
trembling from pointed finger to shaky wrist
“Don’t try to run, and don’t you resist!”

“You unner arrest, Mister,” the head cop cried
“People been hurt, and one lady has died!”

“But I’ve been right here,” I loudly protested
“It’s not right that I should be arrested!”

“Don’t you lie, the blood is all around you!”
The cop didn’t lie, the blood stains would astound you.

“I know it looks damning, but I cut myself shaving!!”
The police were unconvinced, and I was beyond saving. 

“We have a living witness, and she knows your face.”
And so then a small woman entered the place.

She was dressed all in black, she was someone I knew
And on her person was a black dragon tattoo

“But it wasn’t me, it must’ve been Stan.”
Though somehow I knew, they had found the right man. 

The desk clerk grinned like a wry Chinese elf,
“There was no one else, you checked in by yourself.”

And so they hauled me away, they shackled me tight
They ID’ed me in a line-up, and read me my rights

Now I sit sadly in a cold Wuhan prison
Nobody vouches for me, so savior arisen

I ponder this thought from my small prison bed;

Will Stan come to save me,
or was he all in my head?




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12 minutes ago, Brucebubs said:

There's a guy called Sgt Pepper

Who thinks Martin guitars are better

His lack of decorum

On the Gibson forum

Has made him a great upsetter.

You know me well, but I've owned more and less Gibson's than some here. I think I've had a total of 25 or so throughout my life, so does suck it rhyme with Nantucket? And if so, have at it.

Edited by Sgt. Pepper
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19 minutes ago, CNJ said:

Sgt.  you got  a winner there!

Man that was just dropped into my lap and was just to easy not to be a retort. I may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but I'm not gonna go down with out a fight. When I go to a knife fight, I bring a gun. I told Bobouz I wasn't going to do the G VS M thing anymore and for the last few days I haven't, but some guys just want to pick fights. I did it  for a long time and it was lame of me, but I'm pretty quick on my feet and can hold my own.

Edited by Sgt. Pepper
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Well, The only poem I know is this one!  Lol.

Gaily bedight,  A gallant knight,  In sunshine and in shadow,  Had journeyed long,  Singing a song,  In search of Eldorado. 

But he grew old-  This knight so bold-  And o'er his heart a shadow,  Fell as he found  No spot of ground  That looked like Eldorado. 

And as his strength,  failed him at length,  He met a pilgrim shadow-  "Shadow," said he,  "Where can it be-  This land of Eldorado?" 

"Over the mountains  Of the moon,  Down the valley of shadow,  Ride, boldly ride-  The shadow replied-  "If you seek for Eldorado!"   

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1 hour ago, fortyearspickn said:

Coasty Chief hove  to in Nantucket

Leaky  boat, no oars, and no bucket

So he used his Martin  

And some headway was startin'

till the binding popped off and he said



Gibson doesn’t rhyme with anything in your poem.

I was born in Passaic, that’s in Jersey. From Nantucket, nope.

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49 minutes ago, Sgt. Pepper said:

It’s might grand

When you got a Martin in your hand

Thats all I got 


How's this?

Pepper says it's mighty grand,

When he has a Martin in hand.

While the Gibson folk blather,

Truth is they'd all rather,

Play with their glands in their hands.


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