adam lambert looking dubious

Fiction by Pen . . . . . not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment


written to a prompt of Adam/Shakespeare


First you appear in bright englittered splendour,
A strutting Dionysos on the stage,
Willing the fevered crowd to sweet surrender,
Before the charms of voodoo's sparkled mage.
The lights go down; in darkness thou art mine,
Free of the glist of glamour's lonely path.
Swelling with joy, we peak, and then decline,
Soaked in the spill of amour's aftermath.
A miser's measure gone, and scant remaining,
Our time abed is ticked out by the clock.
Circling the globe you fly, bright fame attaining,
Back to my Globe go I, the world to mock.
Sweet, shining boy, so blithely entertaining,
The world can praise your voice; I sing thy cock.

In praise of imperfection

(note: I cheated—Shakespeare wrote nearly half of this one)

Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol rise,
To laud him blindly smacks of sophistry
And I will trust the honour of mine eyes.
A faultless form was ne'er my predilection,
Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
Rather I sing the praise of imperfection
And on his flaws is my invention spent.
The wicked sun his pallid skin doth speckle
The hairs below match not his raven head;
Yet will I quest to kiss each pretty freckle,
Declining dye to rest my lips in red.
Then will I swear beauty perforce is black,
And all they dull that his complexion lack.



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