Just Crank Up That Cher ‘fore I Die
German Alcala
Published by German Alcala at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 German Alcala
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Poem Listing
[Bring Me Bard]
“King, oh, king, what wishes are thine?”
“To rub your feet, or being you dine?”
“King, oh, king, what do you want?”
“A new television, or a brand new robot?”
Oh, how I grow old, and dreary, close to death
How I wish to hear the ancient Macbeth
Do we have a bard who knows of those tales?
Or something useful if in Shakespeare he fails?
“Macbeth was written on a 1607 day”
“My king, its 1,393 years of age!”
“How do you suppose anybody is to know?”
“A tale with which nobody did grow!”
I do not care! Now, don’t protest
Bring me a bard of the best!
To recount to me such tales of glory
And of people ancient and sorry
“Very well, my king, if that be your command”
“I’ll bring a bard of who can rhyme upon demand”
“He probably is old enough to know of ancient tales’
“But, of Shakespeare I’ll doubt he knows details”
[Why Is It]
Speak to me now, of grand humans
The kind that amaze with beauty and talent
Speak to me now, of supernatural civilians
Whose successes through the Earth run ramped
Tell me now of their origins
For I wish to know their lives
Speak of their grand dominions
Through which their names do thrive
I beg you, please, to recount the tales
Of the souls with skills
In vivid vast details
Before the wait, me, kills
Speak of their births, please now
Why do they exist in such abundance?
To the light their life does vow
And they gather millions to audience
Why is it?
They move so smoothly and put us all to shame?
Why is it?
That they all know how to play a certain kind of game?
Whether it be the craft of words
Or the craft of sing and dance
You can always rest assured
That they’re there with their trance
Very well, don’t cry too hard
I shall recount of their existence
Like does a good old bard
This time, myself, I’ll outdistance
I have become old and weak so I’ll not do this fast
So sit back and enjoy the reason they exist in such a vast
For I’m afraid that after this my voice won’t long last
Let me dust myself off and stand lightly in a straighter stance
Oh my throat was clogged, but now is not
So, it’s time that you I taught
In another dimension
Filled with golden spires
There is a convention
To make the lives of liars
Angels line the halls so wide
And read from books of destiny
On how humans will stride
They study their human’s sanity
Yet, there does come that day so strange
When the angels search for meaning
But cannot find good and are sent into rage
So, with destiny they begin intervening
And they hand their skills to human hosts
Their angelic voices or their glowing features
For now they have good humans to boast
Of beauty these humans become teachers
The angels filled with pride and glee
Send them down to Earth to amaze
Discovered in a flurry and that is why they sing
And frighten us in some ways
They have the blood of angels mixed in with their own
Humans once destined for dull quick lives
But angelic talents they quickly did hone
For bigger and better they all strive
And that is how they fall
They stress out their angelic blood
And sometimes hit a wall
To the game some of them do flood…
This is their bright and ancient tale
[Anne Rice]
Now, the sun!
It breaks the clouds
We must run!
Or the dust will be in mounds
For the humans hate our presence
We don’t care for their emotions
We’ll kill no matter the resistance
In all sorts of civilizations
She wrote the words so perfectly
And bonded them with skill
The plot moves simply masterfully
Many millions she did thrill
Her words like razors
Cutting at the peace of dreams
Creating long word’s corridors
She decorates them with strange themes
An artist with the written word
Had once lost her inspiration
And artist of the frightening word
Is now back to us through reincarnation
I hope and pray with all my soul
That she will come back to the craft
And through the dark take one more stroll
If only in one quick draft
May she remember the perfect skill
That she had once presented
Of a vampire does for a living kill
Just one of her words would leave many contented
[Hayao Miyazaki]
Bard, let us take a walk
For I grow fat
Let us simply walk
But my halls need new art
Just imagine a mural
Splattered across the hall’s walls
A mural, but a story very oral
That rises fast then nicely falls
Is there an angel blessed being like that?
Did an angel give their skills of paint?
An angel blessed being who can draw a cat?
Who by human imagination has no restrain
An artist who knows his brushes and creations
And has been followed into the highest heights
By those who fawn over his many animations
Made up of hand drawn and perfect flashing lights
His first drawing governed by the ships of war
He knew how to fly ships in the sky
But he was inspired to go beyond terror
And his angel blessed blood began to go array
He broke into the world of art
And he was given a grand start
Into his art he placed his heart
And has always been quite smart
I admire the talent in his bones
For as a bard I could not hope to compare
I and many are left in awe by his hone
May his career never fall into deep despair
[Lady Gaga]
Tell me now, old tired bard
Of a being who hit quite hard
Who found fashion in a glass shard
The lady of the trendy haus
Recount to me the tale
Of a woman who can’t fail
With dances that are never frail
A lady from the trendy haus
Is there a being of such mind?
To takes us on a monster ride?
Brought all her talents combined?
A lady from the trendy haus
There is in fact one lady there
Who sings a voice truly fare
Her mind filled with the strangest flair
The madam from the trendy haus
A mind filled to the rim
With a lake of insanity
Through which no other should swim
The madam of the monster’s haus
[William Shakespeare]
Tell me bard
Of your predecessors
Tell me now bard
Of the bard for actors
Tell me of a man
Who wrote the greatest scripts
Known in Death from here to Japan
Whose success seems to have no eclipse
Is he blessed by angels or by demons?
Is he a human with the grandest skills?
Or a man with forgotten cons?
For his writing gave too many chills
A bard who worked his fingers to the bone
Wrote stories of tragic deaths
And people who were so alone
One of the greatest word smiths
His skills revered so greatly
For centuries to come and pass
No one will compare so lately
To their words read in such mass
His passion for the written word
Could not be hidden by the hands of time
And for many centuries his words preferred
A bard who at one point was at his prime
Now his legend lays long and bothersome
His words the most dreaded
By those who prefer chewing gum
For in history his words are too embedded
[Maya Angelou]
Tell me now of a women
Who was touched by an angel of intellect
Of black oceans leaping and wide
And living with horrible neglect
Recount to me the story of a woman strong
Foretell of her power over the written word
And her empathy for the cage bird’s song
Whose past is ugly but blurred
I wish to hear of a woman from the slaves
Who continues to rise like the finest dust
Whose voice through Earth travels like waves
Tell of she who deserves her own marble bust
She has the inside knowledge
On why the caged bird sings
Even though she never went to college
She has recited for American kings
An angel of wisdom decided to play with her
Her soul was sadly enough born into slavery
But she grew up to be a teacher
For living her life with only bravery
So young was she when her life was abused
For when she spoke of terror a man was killed
She was scared of how her words could be used
So a silent persona of no words she did build
For many years and many times
She held her silence strong
Thought to be stupid sometimes
But she grew to talk for very long
With a story too vast and amazing
For an old tired bard like me
But she is strongly trail blazing
Who will never pass from memory
[Kathy & Maggie Griffin]
Bring me some wine of the finest!
You, recount to me smiles of the brightest
Ah, yes, the box is fine just leave it
… What angel blessed from wine benefits?
Too many to recount, my king
What about one who loves acting?
That would be a better tale
I know stories that never fail!
NO! I insist upon a being who loves wine
Even if a child it does confine
Tell me of as parent ripping off success
But with taken fame somehow impress
Well, there is a daughter I know
Whose mother of wine is a fellow
Her daughter worked herself to the bone
To be across the world shown
Her mother sat aside with support
While her daughter gave witty retort
She raised her daughter as best she could
Mother gave nothing but material all through childhood
[Rupaul]
I once saw bewitching beauties
With smiles brighter than the sun
Who in life are met with such cruelties
But they have so much fun
Speak to me of those beings
Are they angel blessed?
With faces perfect paintings
And always amazingly dressed
Speak to me one of their grand attributes
A goddess born into the body of Man
The one that any human salutes
The one that the most grand
An amazing being filled with powder
Dressed to suit the most amazing galas
With passing days louder and louder
Putting to shame Charles Atlas
Angel blessed by Iofiel the angel
Who filled with sadness and decided to play
A man she decided to make civil
But went ahead and added a slight sashay
The queen of peace and humility
For her work throughout the years
Having daughters without fertility
And never relinquishing any tears
You know you wanna be her
But that just slight curiosity
For so many things she did concur
You won’t compare to her ferocity
[Jackie Collins]
Oh recount to me a tale so steamy
With characters who are so dreamy
Angel blessed being who knows the others
To study their lives was her druthers
What of her is there?
Shred her story bare!
I wish to know the tale
For she can never fail
She knew her skills from angels
She quickly knew good novels
And committed grand literature
Centered on the famous creature
Her ability to write out journeys
Filled with sex, love, drugs, and parties
Is world renowned
And worldwide admired
She and her talents are ageless
Filled with manners so gracious
Her definition of decent is new
But her writing reflects things true
May her career continue into the great beyond
Where all can read her without a single yawn
Her angel blessed talents are great and exciting
So many other writers she continues inspiring
[Edgar Allan Poe]
Once upon a century dreary
Poe was a genius who was weary
Writing tales oh so eerie
And poetry that leaves some teary
The raven squawked once at night
Poe looked at it and said “you’re right-
As you will go through the night in flight
Whilst I’m left here with insane might!”
It drove him mad and so he did
His will had come undid
He grabbed for the raven but was outdid
He fell to the floor the *CRACK* was splendid
He lay in pain and sorrow
Looking outside to a flying sparrow
It had eaten the Raven in a swallow
Poe did laugh and no longer does wallow
“You stupid birds, so big and mighty-
You are not blessed by my Aphrodite!
For I am human so almighty-
So, go ahead and take your flighty!”
The bird offended and disgraced
He had eaten what Poe had not faced
Now he was being treated like waste
Then he wondered how Poe would taste
He looked at Edgar who laughed his last
And sat down to play his pencil’s black bass
His last great work he wanted to surpass
But the Sparrow’s patience did not last
He pounced once more upon the rude man
Upon his head he did land
But then he realized a plan
He stayed on Poe until he was sorry and ran
[Lindsay Lohan]
Recount to me
The tale of lot youth
I wish to see
A fallen star’s truth
What went wrong in the events?
Did they ever pick themselves up?
Or did she allow her worth to fall to cents?
Did they come back with a trump?
A young image of innocence
A girl who sauntered across screens
There was a shift in her appearance
Then she shifted away from her teens
I don’t remember growing older
When did she?
When did fame’s inner circle take her?
When did we lose our dear sweet pea?
She tried desperately to show her worth
And her skills were never lost
A need for power and party she did unearth
With all the wrong her path crossed
She obsessed for a smaller body
And was soon as small as pens
She was close having her soul disembody
But she gave up on being like one of the aliens
She was sent to rot away for her crimes
Tears fell from her and many a fan
The world has given her such wretched times
May she soon heal her life span
For I pray and hope for own sake
For her to claw her way back up
I hope one day I do wake
To hear she has had a new buildup
[Britney Spears]
You speak of women who are strong
But what of those who did go wrong?
Is there one who fell into fame’s oblivion
Whose career fell into abluvion
Who clawed their way back to the top?
And broke across Hollywood’s doorstop
Who fell into the darkest pit
And came back with a hit
There was an angel blessed one
Who appeared much too young
She was thrown up by her skill
And her competitors she did kill
Her abilities were undeniable
She quickly fell into times vile
She decided to abandon her child’s image
And she did abuse her privilege
She was soon an object of ridicule
Suddenly her fame was miniscule
But she clawed her way back to the top
A force that won’t come to a stop
[False Idols]
Tell me, please!
How to reach the supernatural!
I must know, please!
I want my name to be so global!
I pray to you, to please let me in!
Let me into the world of fame!
I want to commit an original sin!
With the power from this game!
I must know how to do it!
It doesn’t seem that hard to go!
To do anything I would be permit!
It’s hardly work and lots of dough!
Sign me up, oh please, I beg!
I can do it like the supernatural’s
Look, what I can do with my leg!
I promise I will keep my morals!
Do not be a false idol.
I am sorry but you may not.
It will make you suicidal!
Humans cannot be the big shot!
The angels sometimes were
Filled with greed!
And the giving would not occur
Instead to be in lights they’re given the need
Yet there are great entertainers
And humans of grand skill
But each one soon surrenders
For they are all forgettable
Angelic blood can be stressed
Then think of human ability
It becomes difficult if you’re blessed
Just think of Humans who take it deliberately!
The stress does shake them
To their very foundations
To a life of effort they are condemned
Filled with undeniable temptations
False idols fall to ruin so easily
They do not last very long in the game
The Angel Blessed last longer with civility
But soon they fall to shame
It happens when their humanity
Takes them by the reigns
They will lose their grip on reality
And forget that they had brains
The pool of people’s admiration
Soon becomes a pool of sharks!
They are just waiting for your cremation
Even though you’ll leave your marks
It is worse than the game of Russian Roulette
For if you are to take the wrong step
You’ll be nothing but a silhouette
It’s as easy as one small misstep
But if you can find the energy
Or you think you Angel Blessed
Don’t give into lethargy
And good luck on your life long test
[Marylyn Monroe]
Tell me of a maiden
With blonde hair, oh, so sweet
Tell me of that maiden
Who shook men to their feet
Her radiance so perfect
A voice encrusted with jewels
From living life she did not fret
And used men like her tools
I am convinced without a doubt
That she was angel blessed
Her beauty simply had to shout
No matter the way she dressed
So, tell me of that maiden
Of skin so white and smooth
Please, tell of the fair maiden
Who spoke only the truth
The best angels may fade
But never from memory
And if they know a trade
They’ll go on for many a century
She told of jewels
And touched heads of state
Used brothers like tools
And did it great
She held quick
With her beauty
But gave too many kicks
And made many angry
She did not hesitate
To show her singing skills
And just ‘cause she was great
The government did kill
She was an artist
Who knew her own body
A woman of the smartest
Never vanishing from memory
Her beauty I will hail
She was smart and right
Never did she go frail
And was always the best sight
[Margaret Cho]
Recount to me a tale of strength
Who doesn’t care for hip length
A woman who only wants herself
Who knows beauty is in one’s self
An angel blessed lady
Who has extended greatly
Tell me of that
Even if she be fat
She was born to a family
But juggled race gloomily
Unable to trade the squid
For the food of another kid
She became so ambitious
Her angel blood ran vicious
And she ran away from home
Across the country she did roam
She made many people laugh
And got an agent for her behalf
She struck oil so to say
When she got a show to play
She finally felt accepted
When on a show she was represented
She was a star, but not to applause
Even her own race got out jaws
She was said to be too fat and ugly
So she was forced to lose weight quickly
It ruined her body and self esteem
But finally she had her dream
It caused her great pain and sadness
Then her show was cancelled for madness
She slipped into a world of drugs
And alcohol had her lie on rugs
A time of darkness
Lost in sadness
She wrote a play
She would get back in the game!!!
She presented it to many people
A man would do it for something simple
He tried to attack her
To keep her dignity she did prefer
Applauded is she
Who held her dignity
For the sake of her soul
And didn’t fall for that mole
She quickly rose to power
And now stands on Hollywood’s tower
A story of strength is she
Who fell and rose from calamity
The outspoken Goddess of hilarity
Will continue to rampage with sincerity
Praised is she and may she continue
Into a life never again blue
[Tyra Banks]
A grand lady who moved
With graceful everlasting groove
Of women she spoke the truth
And held her dignity so smooth
She used to strut down the aisle
Along the other women so vile
She glowed and radiated beauty and strength
Which is why she moved beyond their length
She knew how to speak to fellow man
She did not lose her ways for money plans
She left the stage with grace
For she had reached the age
But that did not stop her frivolity
Despite the fact she gained abundantly
She became a symbol of female endurance
And her words became object of reverence
Her angel blood was strong and pure
With her beauty and style so sure
She tested girls for her same position
And saw so many other’s ambition
Now she rests in success’ comfort
Filing her nails for the next effort
Her career at its ripest
She continues to rise as the finest
[Shakira]
Recount to me please
Of the Columbian angel
Who lived life with no ease
And dances of most flexible
Who moves in ways
Of most miraculous
With most deserved praise
With accomplished ambitions
Hips that ricochet from side to side
Watching her from youth I was
And when she became English I cried
But now she earns her applause
Always able to astound her public
Soon she became too large on Earth
But she left her born republic
To many other nations she showed her worth
I hope that she returns to her chosen voice
For her words became too new for my soul
Even though I’ll still rejoice
For she brings warmth in any hole
[Michael Jackson]
There are myths that I have heard
Of a man with quite words
His power so intense and pressuring
That is brought after much suffering
Tell me, bard
Are these tales myths?
Tell me, my bard
Are they true hits?
It sounds like a novel
Something of a chilling tale
A man with so much throttle
Become quickly quite frail
It is obvious his blood
Was that of grandest angels
He did things no human could
Talent galore can strangle
It is a tale quite long and cold
Of an artist who never grew old
He was a child all of his great life
But suffered unimaginable strife
His tale I wish were a myth
But sadly, so, is true
So many things keep grip
And leave not a moment cool
He was born an old soul
Into the body of an eight year old
His talent came out to light so fast
Left so many things in the past
Always fresh and always new
Amazing millions maybe you
Legs that worked at lightning speed
And other entertainers he did lead
Across the world he was taken
With surprise people were stricken
For they saw that he was grand
And the soles of other’s feet he could command
He caused the very ground to quiver
But his body was a mere sliver
His throat so perfectly rhythm and well made
Even though, nothing, he weighed
But soon a change occurred in him
Something unforeseen
His face suddenly was so grim
His color scrubbed off clean
He caused quickly so much hatred
From the people he had called his own
With vitiligo he was tainted
And his face could not be shown
Soon his image was ruined again
This time by accusations
Sick and disgusting lies against him
That his deeds of mutilation
It destroyed him of course
He is gone for needed rest
Love and peace he did endorse
But people simply had to pest
[Marylyn Manson]
Oh, the cold and chilly wind doth comes in!
Oh, the moon!
In a crawl across the sky it consumes the sun!
Oh, to an eclipse none is immune.
Oh the darkness sets in
Now tell me of the darkest angel
How’s art only original sin
The being closest to the devil
A being strong and talented
But filled with malice lyrics
Who speaks of nothing but hatred
Demons he often depicts
The soul closest to absolute darkness
Believes himself a Satanic God
And so many lost souls he does harness
With his sounds and faces so odd
Into a world of noise and drugs
He was thrown without a second thought
And rolled with dangerous thugs
His image with parents was distraught
Sad and angry lyrics of death and sorrow
His voice screeched out hollers of pain
He believed that there should be no tomorrow
But from this he had only gain
His talents are undeniable and an angel went wrong
But, after a while it seems that he cares only for fame
Not exactly to please his many a throng
And has became another dry player of the game
[Greyson Chance]
Ah, look at the sun fighting back!
There goes the moon shrinking to a crack!
Look at the shining rays of light
Bringing back the green Earth’s life
Oh, regale to me stories of youth
Of an age in which there is only truth
Recount of an angel blessed creature
Who knows little of his new adventure
Regale me with nostalgia for my own youth
To a time when I had not lost all my baby tooth
A child, oh, a kindred spirit who has realized
An angelic talent that shall bring about their rise!
Many a souls have some angel’s talent
But there are some who do not stay silent
I know of one whose talent exploded
Who was found by webs encoded
Like many a children there is a star there
Hopefully that is a soul found as one rare
We’ll see something amazing I foresee
Hopefully of shame he’ll stay free
[Cher]
Oh, the youth is grand, but what of the veterans?
Is there on who has been there and done that?
The grand angel blessed ones worthy of historians?
Whose career has been a grand floor for combat!
There is one Angel Blessed being who was chosen
To be given skills beyond even the angel’s dreams
And her soul became suddenly golden
Her skills astounded even God with her extremes
She was sent down from Heaven’s old golden spires
It took decades for her soul to find a woman
Who was strong enough to carry her inside cores
She was born to a Cherokee and an Armenian
Went to Catholic School, and wore only a pink dress
Yet, she was smarter than most Athenians
She is one of the greatest angel talents bless
Diva, Queen, or Mom she seems to the best
She was sixteen when she met her man
Who now lays his weary head to rest
With him her career really had ran
Diva, Queen, or Legend she seems to be the best
She was a grown woman before she knew it
And was always outspokenly dressed
She was the best in her group and she knew it
Dark Lady, laughs and sings
Until her voice is very hoarse
With Bob Mackie rings
With unprecedented force
The half breed heard only praise
She knew all about Hollywood’s game
And was able to cause quite a craze
And made something of her young name
She was strong enough to go on and on
She was the greatest for four decades
With the eternal beauty of a holy swan
Whoever comes along she gives them shades
If she could turn back time only goodness knows
What she would change or which act she would erase
Or of the chance to go back would she dispose?
For there no one who to her could replace!
She once afraid of her career coming to an end
And she proclaimed her life’s final dance
Yet, she saw she was the public’s friend
She came back to place us in her trance
She was the last grand angel blessed wills
For the angels have begun creating in moderation
And no longer give such powerful skills
She was the last of such exaggeration
For her age and her century is now gone
Dark Lady, placed all in her trance
She was born the skills of a grand God
That Diva sung with oh so much Romance
That Half Breed between God and Angel
An honest woman who hearts so grandly won
With a manner so powerfully graceful
Her life will continue to run
And that is the tale, yes that is the tribute
She was so grand and so were the rest the rest
Her top ranking spot is not up for dispute
Because compared to her all others are a pest
For she was the best, a witch, and a bit of a bitch
She was a D.I.V.A
She shamed the rest, a pest, and bit of a contest
She was a D.I.V.A
Diva
It sounds oh, so grand!
And now I am old and dieing
I wish to hear her band
For her story is addicting
So old and so frail am I
That I have only thing to say
Please crank up that Cher ‘fore I die
And let it all night until the crack of dawn play
[Tales Are Told Now Let Us Die]
What fascinating and exciting tales
Such inspirational people to hail
But, were you lying of their blood?
Is that no truer than a golden flood?
I am afraid, and do regret
To say that they were false
I’m old and for death set
So, I have no trouble with impulse
You speak truth and honesty, bard
Let us sit and watch the castle yard
For I am old, frail, and weak
And your heart is now an antique
Let us sit and wonder of these beings
Let us sit ad ponder how the Earth will end
Let us die as two old men on this evening
To sit among the angel blessed we’ll pretend
Yes, it is time to end these tales and rest
I suspect it’s for the best
So, open the window will you?
Let in the morning dew!
Let us relax our muscles and our minds
And watch as the world ends
I have recounted famous lives
And nothing else I do intend
My vision seeps away from me
What is that I see?
The famous angel blessed beings!
Are waiting for the kingly me!
[Meeting Of The Gods]
Up into the clouds we go
I hope to Hell we are not thrown
Oh, how bright the stars do shine
They make my white teeth look like grime
The clouds they are parting
And a gate is appearing
Peter takes one look at us
And decides we can pass
To great halls an angel retires
And live under large golden spires
Their books of destiny are gone
For their medaling days are done
At the very top floor of their building
Is a hall decorated with the grandest gilding
Here rest the souls of the angel blessed beings
Who love to hold great fun meetings
“You are a tramp, a camp, and you are a skamp”
The D.I.V.A trots around giving each a stamp
With her headdress made of poultry
And her skin white and ghostly
There is a woman laying on the table slightly arrogant
With legs crossed and elegant
Her blonde locks are bright and radiant
“Happy Birthday Mr. President”
“Uh” she gasps as a large white hand
Grabs and yanks her on his command
He begins to abuse her (he just took some coke)
But she yanks away from the darkest of bloke
She runs off to join the women dancing
And begins partaking
She is surrounded by a Hispanic beauty
And a red head with the palest booty
An old woman is shaking her head
To see the woman whose hair is red
But wagging her finger
To the music of the Korean singer
At the other side of the room
There are women discussing how to groom
There is one with makeup and clothing outlandish
Another with dark skin and great eyes brandish
The tallest of them is a dark womanly figure
Who was working to, their faces, configure
She wore high heels of seven inches
And wore a dress that cost a few riches
Handing them makeup is a woman of blonde hair
Her southern style is as cute as her stare
Then next to her is an old strong black woman
Who is picking shoes for boys with boredom
“Thank y’all; I’ll be on my way”
The outlandish woman “Give him my best I say”
“Of course” the old lady says and walks to another hall
And comes to a boy who never did fall
He stands with his hair in a classic cut
But his shoes since his arrival have come to a rut
“Thank you, miss” he takes the shoes
“Hopefully they will heal your blues”
Into the room walks a young silly girl
With a yellow dress with quite a nice furl
“Have you seen a little brown bag?”
“I left in it a… flag”
“Oh yeah, on that table” the boy remembers
That was to the girl one of heavenly answers
“I moved it over to the cupboard”
The woman corrected the boy’s word
“Thank you,” the girl ran to fetch them
And was gone in less than a hum
“Let’s get going to the meeting”
The old woman and the boy started leaving
The young silly girl had the reddest hair
And she walked into another room with flair
“Is that it?”
On the other side sat an old bandit
The bandit was old and held a pen
And used to entice all men
“Yup, it’s in here”
“Oh thank you, dear”
“It is what I needed to survive”
“I can only imagine your painful strife”
“Why did you need this stuff at all?”
“In my new book its description I’ll scrawl”
For the two of them sat in a library
And intelligence was primary
On the other side of the two women
Sat three wise people who the word were driven
Here sat a mousy woman
Who sat on a black cushion
Next to her sat a man so tired
And only for darkness was he wired
In front of them was a bard
And together they worked hard
Together they wrote books
With the darkest outlooks
They would be read by angels
And even by God
But not before the great artist
Threw on his own stardust
Done with today’s story
They closed their depository
Grabbed the other two women
And to the meeting were driven
At the door of the grand meeting hall
Stood a black man so tall
Greeting each one of them in with a smile
And with a gentleman’s style
Once they were all seated
And their noises depleted
They took out their wines
And began to speak lines
The Diva said this
And the other said that
Some spoke only bliss
And someone was called fat
But all was right and the energy perfect
An ageless reign of beauty they did represent
They spoke for hours or was it for years?
Sometimes there was laughing or sometimes tears
They converse and converse
Of when they’ll reemerge
For once enough time has passed
They’ll go into the vast
Back down to Earth will they go
For such strength none could throw
Yes, they might die
And yes they will fail
Yes, they will age
And fall off their stage
Their skin will go pale
Or grow like a wale
But, what is certainly clear
And what all will fear
Is that after time and power
Each of them will rule their tower
It won’t be the first time it happens
Or the exact same fashions
But it will be them in their full strength
For all of eternity’s unending length
Thank You for Reading
[Dear Reader,]
German Alcala & The Poems Galore Celebrity Editions
This is sadly enough the third and final Poems galore *Celebrity Edition*, and I thought that my final time around deserved a small letter to y’all.
My first anthology of celebrity poetry “A Letter To Justin Bieber’s Hair” was originally entitled Poems Galore *Celebrity Edition, and was first written throughout December of 2008. It was a collection of ten poems as a real great tribute to ten celebrities that I was crazy about at the time: Shakira, Cher, Margaret Cho, Madonna, Fergie, Bernie Mac, Edgar Allen Poe, Marylyn Monroe, Rupaul, and Britney Spears. During the summer of 2009 I found myself extending the collection to include five more celebrities Kathy Griffin, Kathy’s Mom, Lindsay Lohan, Michael Jackson, and Anna Nicole Smith.
The collection of fifteen poems stayed dormant in a forgotten folder in my room until the day I discovered a way to publish ebooks!
I decided to cut away several of the poems down to only seven of the best poems, but I found myself writing more into the poetry collection as I edited it for epublication, and I realized that seven poems was a rather miniscule amount to what it should have been, and besides: a lot of things had happened since the days in which the poetry was originally written.
I wrote three new poems: Dear Marylyn Manson, Dear Megan Fox, and Dear Nicole Kidman after which I thought it would be much more in touch with my demographic (young Hollywood obsessed children) if I wrote about a current teen sensation, and I swallowed my pride to “please the readers” and I wrote the poem.
Once more I was about to publish the ebook, and I found myself cruising around Yahoo! and finding news about all these big celebrities, and I had my own opinion on all these matters, so, I expanded the collection once more to include Mel Gibson, Paris Hilton, Rihanna, and Amanda Bynes. I spent a couple more weeks throwing a little more into my Hollywood concoction, and finally I threw my book out there to receive critics such as:
I hope every name you borrowed sues you into oblivion
Simple celebrity worshipping trash
Seriously want the last 30 minutes of my life back
Wouldn't want to read about these celebrities
Damn.
But, I didn’t care. I liked what I had put out there and I’m proud to say that I can write good poetry instead of being some stupid troll on the internet. Besides, my book had become quite popular on the website I had published it with at 35,000 downloads. I spent a couple weeks considering whether or not my immature heart could handle anymore critics shoving their negativity down my throat. Eventually I decided that I would stick to my pride, and would rather release the poems to harsh reviews rather than let the paper rot!
I soon found myself writing, editing, and publishing a collection of celebrity poems centered purely on Death (seeing as that was a theme among the poems I had left out the first time around). After which I released another Poems Galore centered all around… poems.
Then I came to cold harsh realization:
I was doing all of this during the summer! Soon the short three months would end and I would be forced to go back to school, but still want to release poetry! So, I came to terms with the end of the Poems Galore Era, and found Margaret Cho’s poem and the poems for other celebrities which I had cut in half for the first two editions of Celebrity Poems, and put together the grand collection that you just read (or not if you skipped pages to get here).
Thank You For Having Read
-German Alcala
Thank You, for even looking through these poems, and spending your time to interpret my works. If you for some reason have not read the other celebrity editions I don’t really recommend them. No, they can be found at Smashwords.com/Germanalcalasahagun along with stuff that isn’t poetry, and a list of books that I hope to be expanding all the time!
German was born in Los Angeles, California. He is thirteen years old and if he could eat and never gain a pound he’d stop eating! He is also thoroughly convinced that his eyes are getting lighter with age and that he should be seventy pounds lighter. He can be found ranting on about his lack of weight loss in Twitter as @ConceitedPerson.