a study toward sonnet #242 by FisherKingKQJ


I miss the life of coconut milk and taro,
It's a drudge this work as hotel maid;
I read the tea leaves and the tarot
For overstayers who fear a dawn raid.
Work is regimented: I like to grade
The hotel guests' castaway underpants
As pillows and bedsheets are neatly made
By odours and auras fitting romance.
So: boxer shorts a beerbelly advance-
He's a student who hardly gets a shake;
So: briefs are never to proud to prance-
He's girlieman, he likes orgasms you fake.
But it's longjohns which make my spirit coo,
Affirming my love and the Fiji coup.


But it's longjohns which make my spirit coo.
But it's longjohns which make my spirit hum.
But it's longjohns which make my spirit purr.

a study toward sonnet #241 by FisherKingKQJ


I don't know what to make of this fight,
It's not about you or me in the least,
Ahead go, all my misdemeanours cite,
My visa is overstamped, dogeared, creased.
You come across as smug and self pleased
Yourself, sometimes, we're more alike
Than we like to admit, a two headed beast,
The misdemeanour list details your psyche.
Perhaps your tantrum is a pre emptive strike
But more likely to paranoia you're slave,
Up through your legs gravity strings spike
From a dice cube on a probability wave.
Sometimes you're funny, at times you drone,
Sometimes you're a marionette I disown.


Sometimes you're funny, at times you drone.
Sometimes you're funny, at times you garble.
Sometimes you're funny, at times you murmur.

a study toward sonnet #240 by FisherKingKQJ


The world owes much to productive suicides
And humps along unfeeling regardless
The universal machine or nylon rides
Our byzantine comforts through the mess.
Perhaps expectation can embrace success
And put a transgender robot at the crest
In a backside zip or a skin tight dress
Of black humour wrapped in the Turing test.
The numbers and molecules do our behest
And for a while suppress the human heart
And demons return to propound their blessed
And reverse all hierarchies a la carte.
On your small smile a patent surely pends,
Its artifice of a love never ends.


On your small smile a patent surely pends.
On your small smile a patent surely covers.
On your small smile a patent surely rides.

a study toward sonnet #239 by FisherKingKQJ


Behind my hairy back they call me chimp-
A curse it is to be bald and yet hirsute;
Unshaven, thrusting women leave me limp,
My wife is girlish, and saccharine cute.
I'm a bit of all right, me and my loot,
Highbrow shelves validate my towering pate...
In bed, when I'm about my wad to shoot,
She'll yell another bloke's name, which I hate.
In the ceiling mirror, advanced primate
And hour glass woman attack and groan,
His lips recede, his teeth clench and grate,
He let's out a screechy chimplike moan.
In winter my matt keeps my missus warm-
In summer she preens me lovable gorm.


In winter my matt keeps my missus warm.
In winter my matt keeps my missus cozy.
In winter my matt keeps my missus flush.

a study toward sonnet #238 by FisherKingKQJ


I spared a limbering daddy longlegs,
My love for you not running to your squeals,
Our position low in the chain so begs
Us take a look at what we mean by ordeals.
We're not the first young couple which feels
The crunch of poverty, we won't be the last,
It's no sort of disease which never heals,
And finite are the ways to play downcast.
My live and let prey meme has you aghast,
Its sand flies and web in red and black mould
Of the shower cubicle, the mosaic amassed-
It's not the perfect life your mum extolled.
I believe our love will beat what you dread
Let's have a laugh as we're better than dead.



I believe our love will beat what you dread.
I believe our love will beat what you abhor.
I believe our love will beat what you loathe.

a study toward sonnet #237   by FisherKingKQJ

My friend, it's disgusting that we two
Who are so unalike can be called the same
Womaniser by an idle gossip, who
By jealousy is compelled to defame.
She had serene good looks and was game
For a pillow fight or a public row.
She was a street walker, gritty yet tame,
A champion of high society to low.
She was a charmer whose looks were so-so
And I adored her self effacing jokes.
She was a fizzy waif blonde into the blow
Who a party atmosphere liked to coax.
A torrent of tears for each girl I bawled,
Whereas you dateraped or boozily balled.

 
A torrent of tears for each girl I bawled.
A torrent of tears for each girl I cried.
A torrent of tears for each girl I sobbed.

 

 

a study toward sonnet #236   by FisherKingKQJ

 
At a loose end I tried out three blind dates:
The first date was goofy and full of flaws,
He was determined to get on with my mates,
He made a fool of himself without pause.
The second date studied small print subclause,
And interrogated me for some detail,
He wanted to staunch my troubles at source,
He magnified against one to one scale.
The third date was a wreckless macho male,
A contrarian or pseudo maverick,
Whose shallow dogma would one day fail,
Whose luck, not genius was his only trick.
O rotten luck, which dogs my basic dreams,
Of mismatches I'd write in pounds of reams.

 

O wretched luck, which dogs my simple dreams.
O wretched luck, which dogs my simple fantasies.
O wretched luck, which dogs my simple reveries.

 

 

a study toward sonnet #235   by FisherKingKQJ

 
So when you read this I know you'll sneer: 
A post-it note by the spineless jellyfish-
After all, I wasn't your type of queer
In our cosy bedsit too far from swish.
I'm one to pussyfoot,  you're two to squish,
I try to articulate exactly what I feel,
And I feel your needs against my wish,
And pleasing, I'm poncey rather than real.
You're not my cup of Earl Grey nor my meal,
But I still respect your right to a hissy fit,
Your public toilet peephole powerdrill deal,
And you warmed to my puppet oven mitt.
Wise Owl and I close the microwave door
On gingerbread men, also you...you whore.

Wise Owl and I close the microwave door.
Wise Owl and I close the microwave gate.
Wise Owl and I close the microwave hatch.

a study toward sonnet #234   by FisherKingKQJ

 
He's a cinch to talk to, and as for humour-
He snickers at all my jokes with a rouse;
There's a glint in his eyes, and the rumour
Of lust as they fall down my cotton blouse.
Is he worth knowing?  I can't help but grouse...
My first impressions I suspect and trust-
He's worth understanding - I just need nous -
Does his feminine side object to lust?
As I'm hard arsed I've got him all but sussed:
He's so lonesome he'd laugh at a wreath,
Or maybe on p he's secretly mussed,
Or...I've got lipgloss smeared on my teeth.
Or I might just chuck in the kitchen sink-
Did he cash in his scratchies, do you think?

 
Or I might just throw in the kitchen sink.
Or I might just throw in the kitchen tub.
Or I might just throw in the kitchen well.

 

a study toward sonnet #232 by FisherKingKQJ


You can just call me Doctor Love, and if
You think I'm dear I straight away remind
You one hundred dollars per hour isn't stiff,
It's philanthropic budget for my kind.
So you've found yourself in a double bind,
Or a zugzwang over love at first sight,
The effortless thing prized, also maligned,
A hormone rush for your damsel or knight.
Yes, first impressions are good, near to right,
As you nudge them through filters of desire-
Beware: self projection might be your plight,
Your ebullience is awkward, but not dire.
I think your crush deserves a second chance,
Or a thousandth if you live by a glance.


I think your crush deserves a second chance.
I think your crush deserves a second go.
I think your crush deserves a second look.

a study toward sonnet #231 by FisherKingKQJ


You don't have to be polite about my beak
You won't see in profile photo portrait,
It's just I give always head on a tweak,
And shadowy, tousled hair undermines fate.
My passion for shoes will never sate-
For boots, stilettoes, platforms, flats
And helps me block, confound and skate
Well past my prior neurosis for hats.
I've enjoyed our recent intimate chats
The trivial, the secular, the profound-
As I shave underarm and pubic mats
I dream your love a lucid shield around.
You'll feel my love so forcefully weak,
Where subliminal worries wreck and wreak.


You'll feel my love so forcefully weak.
You'll feel my love so forcefully feeble.
You'll feel my love so forcefully tame.

a study toward sonnet #230    by FisherKingKQJ

If people were to found out how confused
I am, I would then live in the past tense,
I would be something amnesiac contused
In blushes so juvenile, so immense.
The blazer and short skirt make sense,
Perhaps the low cut chemise is a mistake
Which swells my cleavage as hence to thence,
On crippling stilettoes my arches ache.
My business degree might as well be fake
As I  serve pinot noir to alpha males:
Perhaps the clumsy fellow is a lucky break
And not the bald ex jockey full of tales.
I brush by -  his eyes lock on my bust,
Obliged to tease I tease, surely my thrust.

 

Obliged to tease I tease, surely my thrust.
Obliged to tease I tease, surely my push.
Obliged to tease I tease. surely my stroke.

a study toward sonnet #229   by FisherKingKQJ
 
You sniffed, you snorted into a tissue,
You swore an oath against the wretched man;
And physical attraction wasn't the issue,
It was his brain which needed a trepan.
He slinked designer suits, he fibbed with elan,
You whined, you wiped tears from red eyelids,
You determined how the torture began
When tarts abruptly announced their bids.
I find haphazard passage of time rids
Our hearts of foibles small and risible
With pencil stubs in geometric grids,
I speak as your confidante invisible.
I style and cut your hair into a bob-
Now I'm your friend and you're my blob.
 
 
I style and cut your hair into a bob.
I style and cut your hair into a pageboy.
I style and cut your hair into a shaggy.
 
 
 

a study toward sonnet #228 by FisherKingKQJ

I looked at my distraught friend, I believe,
With the corners of my mouth slightly upturned;
Her tear soaked cheeks, and her neurotic peeve-
They surely meant cool reason had adjourned.
Her eyelids and nostrils a redness burned,
And as she nasally perked up, I bit
My lip hard and in the interim learned
What magnified hurt caused her brow to knit.
My eyes loved, but I thought better of it,
So all the time my lips were sealed
As with a hanky she dabbed at cornered spit,
Her intermittent sobs which mutely pealed.
In love I venture that less can be more-
As to me her peer, her passions now moor.


As to me her peer, her passions now moor.
As to me her peer, her passions now bind.
As to me her peer, her passions now harness.

a study toward sonnet #227   by FisherKingKQJ
 
 
Your dry, demure, and quickly blinking eyes-
They tell me everything your lips do not,
That I've been such an idiot in surmise-
I've tallied something nought, and small a lot.
My terms and conditions were so much rot,
But I'd be solipsistic to withdraw;
I'm trapped, and my stomach is in a knot-
My goofy ways must have stuck in your craw!
The reckless outburst was a schisting flaw
So teasing you to depart, you did leave
And bittersweet irony tempered law-
With a gentle nod please prompt my reprieve.
My darling, dare I speak now of we two?
Your patience with me is only too true.
 
 
Your patience with me is only too true.
Your patience with me is only too candid.
Your patience with me is only too honest. 
  
  

a study toward sonnet #226  by FisherKingKQJ
 
The thin legs and arms I near loved are gone,
The dimpled curt smiles I caught once or twice
Are gone,  so too golden tresses which shone
In immaculate braid, or plait, or splice.
Her identical twin is spoken nice
And society's disease is hindsight plain;
It's easier to cuss against jumping dice
For suicide, misadventure, cruelly slain.
I know I'm the open link in the chain,
That I puzzle what might have been much
With Plato's perfect heaven on the brain
And miss perfect mundane doubles as such,
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a strain
Of epigram, a sad, aspiring touch.
 
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a strain.
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a phrase.
And from my guitar mutely squeaks a riff.

a study toward sonnet #225 by FisherKingKQJ

They were a lovely couple, their lives austere,
And their possessions durable and few
The front door unlocked as theft was so rare
Just a nuance between poor and well to do.
On pennypinch my eyes linger anew,
On dry, stale air in tall glass cabinets
The quaint best crockery unused on view
The sunday best of no tab in debts.
Their love measured decades at nil regrets,
Their own parents lived more spartan still
Where wood stove electric range half begets,
In a museum of testament and will.
And elderly weak with a kindly smile,
Ahead of time about the love worthwhile.


Ahead of time about the love worthwhile.
Ahead of time about the love meaningful.
Ahead of time about the love valuable.

a study toward sonnet #224 by FisherKingKQJ

I send this message to you, my old mate,
By invisible ink, by signal posture, by word
Unspoken mouthed, as very early seems too late
For telepathic laughs at the absurd.
I've spied you with her, you're undeterred,
Her charm is generic, her manner how do you do,
And from her sweet lips bad things never heard,
You know that I know you secretly woo.
It kills me, but we're alike through and through,
So if she should yield her darkness to reveal
Her flaws, you'd be the first to taste her true,
I'd be the last to see her grow and heal.
Her flirtatious good looks are a dog's ear,
I'm forced to read between lines when you're near.


I'm forced to read between lines when you're near.
I'm forced to read between lines when your close.
I'm forced to read between lines when you're proxy.

a study toward sonnet #223 by FisherKingKQJ

You're such a barometer for a storm
With trepidation we still venture out
And if anxious silence is quite the norm
It antes opportunity past doubt.
If the typhoon is self inflicted rout
There's mutual schadenfreude in capsize
And roaming tornado turns slick waterspout
And where typhoons die, hurricanes arise.
Half asleep I roll between your firm thighs
And roil a two star motel waterbed
A porpoise a dolphin carnally implies
Seasick nauseous, and so easily lead.
Neptune's neon trident flashes green then blue,
And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones brew.

And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones brew.
And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones draw.
And in your sleepy, low gasps cyclones infuse.

a study toward sonnet #222 by FisherKingKQJ

I caught philosophy in her sweet mien,
A phrase so timed as not to condescend,
There's no error as to what she might mean,
It's agreed: you're so much more than a friend.
And her laugh reminds you which rule to bend,
And her quivering lips smooth a silent spell
In your small talk, to which your own wend,
And there, your unspoken misgivings quell.
You're not intimate but you know her well,
So what is this mythic meeting of minds?
Your mind and her mind attract and repel-
Are melons weighted with or without rinds?
She draws circles in circles with thick lines-
But are the lines in the circles what defines?

She draws circles in circles with thick lines.
She draws circles in circles with thick marks.
She draws circles in circles with thick strokes.

a study toward sonnet #221 by FisherKingKQJ

And society so boxes itself in
With hindsight, and historians wrap
Their careers with tyrants's skin,
The money a bookmark in wad foolscap.
To subtleties of syphilis this pap
Is immune, to the minuscule detour-
A dynamic to the major mishap,
And simply heaps the merchant seesaw.
The monks of the Himalayas restore
Our sublime ch'i of six prong snow flakes,
In a six foot radius they melt deep hoar,
They kneel thus, their bodyheat gently bakes.
The spark in your eyes is rare as an ohm,
My love for you is a chant of the om.


The spark in your eyes is rare as an ohm.
The spark in your eyes is rare as a volt.
The spark in your eyes is rare as a watt.

This sonnet is a holistic composite of the sort of person I sometimes meet in Auckland City.

sonnet #220 by FisherKingKQJ

As you've been in a custody battle
My eyes have caressed your back and profile-
For lesser things I've felt the rattle;
Observer by proxy, it makes me smile.
The tracer bullets of the country mile
I should be giving you by beacon rumour,
In a peculiar way it would stymie my style
I've known two suicides, I've beaten a tumour,
So I'm the boy you'll cosset and humour,
I'm the shoulder of a friend of a mate,
No acquaintance could love you more:
I won't filibuster or obfuscate.
All your troubles I wish would vanish,
All your hurt downsize, then vanquish.

All your troubles I wish would vanish.
All your troubles I wish would disappear.
All your troubles I wish would absent.

I've got some rough ideas for a trilogy of plays tentatively called 'Low-Life'. It's sort of backward looking and the characters have been simmering away for a decade or two.

After the 400 love sonnets I think I'll publish a limited edition of another 100.

a study toward sonnet #217 by FisherKingKQJ

The sister you've put down, you've estranged,
Has entered the picture so as to quizz
And upend your essence; you're both deranged,
And the madness complementary is.
The other simmers where one is a fizz-
My dilemma: I don't know which one to woo,
The bumbling gorm or the effortless whizz,
Both simultaneously true and untrue.
You've opened my mind to a relaxed view
As to why we're intimate in the dark
In shadow stripe, mute light of crimson hue,
I'll hold back any polarising remark.
Things often aren't what they seem to appear
When pretty sisters present as a pair.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Things often aren't what they seem to appear.
Things often aren't what they seem to externalise.
Things often aren't what they seem to look.

a study towards sonnet #216 by FisherKingKQJ

The wig and cloak and gavel are now boon
For philosophy of life as a game
But I say the elite judge is a buffoon
Till electricity is free, and love the aim.
My sweet, I find his argument lame
And does he order pain across the board?
Cardboard box and penthouse are not the same
To that gerrymander and stonewall lord.
So where does he tuck his rare greenback hoard?
In a kingsized mattress eight feet tall
His top rung intellect is underscored,
The gap between sheets, wife and ceiling small.
It's the limitless love ahead I fear
Yet your free bee stung lips are such sweet fare.

{3D interactive chorus:}

It's the limitless love ahead I fear.
It's the limitless love ahead I dread.
It's the limitless love ahead I cringe.

a study toward sonnet #215 by FisherKingKQJ

You know I'm a bad ass rock and roll chick
And at Lake Alice psych I paid my dues
I've got an ex con boyfriend cruel and thick
And we timeshare leadbelly's aching blues.
My shoulders are hickeys where not a bruise
He'd never cut my pretty face or neck
He's not like prettyboys who charm and use
The sort of vacant face my boots'd like wreck.
He loves me, his very own smart alec
His ecstasy and p are panacea for my ills
Our bedsheets are crap stain and blood fleck
After a mickey finn he takes me as he wills.
My friend Carol, too, suffers for our art
Cheek tattoos and yellow teeth are a start.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My friend Carol, too, suffers for our art.
My friend Carol, too, suffers for our creativity.
My friend Carol, too, suffers for our muse.

a study toward sonnet #214 by FisherKingKQJ

At the centre of ourselves is some
Dark matter, only a speck semantics
So I'm not quitting the rule of thumb
The parallel universe of your tricks.
Your love outweighs your hatred in the mix
That is my faith, the stars themselves peer
In power, intensity, distance and fix
In the nightsky; they neither blink nor veer.
They are portals for time travel I swear,
The crucibles to temper the doubting heart,
The Earth's core a white dwarf, dusty nuclear,
Our universe a black hole for the most part.
My love, you're a mystery as we speak
Your topic is touched in tangental squeak.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My love, you're a mystery as we speak.
My love, you're a mystery as we banter.
My love, you're a mystery as we chat.

a study toward sonnet #213 by FisherKingKQJ

Subordinate to Galen, life, and death,
My passion is distributed and free;
As hate and envy are a waste of breath,
I become what other people say of me.
I experience things more as they should be:
Like any student nurse I bow and scrimp
A teaching ward, a racket tuition fee:
After hours I'll volunteer pout and primp.
You're member politick or bludger gimp,
I'll throw in a funky, free, bodyslam,
I can turn this condom into a blimp,
I can disabuse you of your wee dram.
A registrar's sixty hours hardly pays-
You can lord it later, inject your haze.

{3D interactive chours:}

A registrar's sixty hours hardly pays.
A registrar's sixty hours hardly monies.
A registrar's sixty hours hardly renumerates.

a study toward sonnet #212 by FisherKingKQJ

I crave your long, pale, thin arms and elbows
Which fill out white, goatkid, stitched, full length gloves,
Your tight hipped turquoise dress over stilettoes-
Your bobbed red hair and pout round out my loves.
Eyes blue and white blinking, empyreal doves
In summer's last blush flutter, judge and swoop,
Your quietly cooing and throaty voice shoves
Us all out of its migratory and closed loop.
So we're a loyal, irrational group
We chauffeurs, ex-cons, busboys and drag queens,
Tonguetied, hopeful as to whether you'd stoop
To stomping a heel through consecutive spleens.
From your smooth, botox single wrinkled brow
From your eyes, too, your fringe you blow.

{3D interactive chorus:}

From your eyes, too, your fringe you blow.
From your eyes, too, your fringe you huff.
From your eyes, too, your fringe you puff.

a study toward sonnet #211 by FisherKingKQJ

My love, may your ecstasies be sated,
And your miseries transient, small and few,
May your care for the ill be known and rated,
May a run of good luck wrap all you do.
May water freeze under your flat heeled shoe,
May fire heat your aura into fireball,
May earth yield you guavas to suck and chew,
May air ooze ozone to keep your mind in thrall.
To praise myself now might seem devious small,
But it's you I now unconsciously ape-
I empathise with the downtrodden, I quit a brawl,
All to stroke back your hair, to kiss your nape.
You're a halo crested gnomon which casts a shade-
Without you life would be vacuous and staid.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Without you life would be vacuous and staid.
Without you life would be vacuous and dull.
Without you life would be vacuous and grey.

Mickey Munter: I flew my hot air ballon to the brink
Of Wall St to tickle a Wall St bank;
As heroes do, I pocketted a greenback tithe
To democratise sooty black sweet teeth.

"Mickey Munter and the Moneytree" is the title I've finally settled on for a political satire. $100 billion of debt is a lot of...lolly. That's after love sonnet #400.

"Mickey Munter and the Moneytree" is the title I've finally settled on for a political satire. $100 billion of debt is a lot of...lolly. That's after love sonnet #400.

a study toward sonnet #210 by FisherKingKQJ

My real self I'm afraid of, I hardly know
And dispel in heady gulps of ocean breeze;
I might come across as a know all so and so,
You could call me ignorant and ill at ease.
But you yourself try too too hard to please,
With a compulsion to flirt and amuse
You cruelly enforce a social disease,
You're an affable, mechanical ruse.
You swim in boiling ozone greenish hues,
You're salted waist down for all kinds of men;
To licks of bullkelp sick sailors carouse
And give up carbuncles to your bedrock den.
Let me swoon the oozing brine of your breath,
My mermaid, swish and propel width and breadth.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Let me swoon the oozing brine of your breath.
Let me swoon the oozing brine of your hale.
Let me swoon the oozing brine of your spire.

a study toward sonnet #209 by FisherKingKQJ

I'm in a quandary of sorts, and now
I've left a common law ten year span wife
To whom I could no longer speak or kowtow,
All petered out in a ritualised life.
With menopause comes the ironic strife
And history of menses and countless eggs
Which were flushed away, to bluntly knife
My nostalgia for failure, surely dregs.
Perhaps to Don Juan the situation begs
Compare, perhaps he played the monthly cycle
And perhaps he moved on as they shut their legs,
At first a sirroco, then an icicle.
What am I saying, who pushes who, who shoos?
It's just a case of new heels for old shoes.

{3D interactive chorus:}

What am I saying, who pushes who, who shoos?
What am I saying, who pushes who, who parries?
What am I saying, who pushes who, who rebuffs.

a study toward sonnet #208 by FisherKingKQJ

You're gorgeous, you're clever, you're full of spunk,
But you're not distinguished from other girls
And if you hitch up with a rake or a punk,
Well, I tick fin de siecle flings and whirls.
I love the way your shy, bowlike lip curls,
Your flick of bangs away from your eyebrows,
Your primp round ear as a tress unfurls,
Your sweep of lock on lock near overflows.
You're educated, but to custom you're not close,
You're cultured without irony or nuance,
You're mutely rude and cheerfully morose
In vulgar values of what's in your pants.
You're not so young but only for a while,
I'll follow circumstance with custom wile.

{3D interactive chorus:}

You're not so young but only for a while.
You're not so young but only for a moment.
You're not so young but only for a spell.

a study toward sonnet #207 by FisherKingKQJ

As autumn strikes a tremor in my heart
I sashay past the lush, deadly nighshade-
An ancient artefact of cosmetic art,
It's dainty white flowers inviting spade.
To you, a sidewinder, my thoughts are swayed
And myself, natural, a rattlesnake,
The spat of serum has left me waylaid,
It's queasy cure for my gout and tooth ache.
Your eyeliner is vegan nightshade fake,
No lab hare is sacrificed on your byre,
Your friends are tarts for purely tarts' sake-
You're a green potato whom I acquire.
I speak before I think, whereas you frame
Your bile in cool, eloquent liquid flame.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I speak before I think, whereas you frame.
I speak before I think, whereas you border.
I speak before I think, whereas you outline.

a study toward sonnet #207 by FisherKingKQJ

As autumn strikes a tremor in my heart
I sashay past the lush, deadly nighshade-
An ancient artefact of cosmetic art,
It's dainty white flowers inviting spade.
To you, a sidewinder, my thoughts are swayed
And myself, natural, a rattlesnake,
The spat of serum has left me waylaid,
It's queasy cure for my gout and tooth ache.
Your eyeliner is vegan nightshade fake,
No lab hare is sacrificed on your byre,
Your friends are tarts for purely tarts' sake-
You're a green potato whom I acquire.
I speak before I think, whereas you frame
Your bile in cool, eloquent liquid flame.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I speak before I think, whereas you frame.
I speak before I think, whereas you border.
I speak before I think, whereas you outline.

At some point I'll be adding songs for a satirical musical. Fifteen soliloquys with fifteen talk-sing dramatic interludes. I'll be continuing with unrhymed, blank sonnets
for talk-sing; half-rhymed sonnets for soliloquy.

Half-rhyme:

goggle
gaggle

or:

gurgle
gaggle

a study toward sonnet #206 by FisherKingKQJ

The Gods cannibalise their own dead
Regurgitated for Romans from the Greek-
A crazy Caesar salad tainted with lead
In scullery leach, by bath house pipe leak.
The Fisherking, he salts the infirm and weak
So learn to treasure, pick, unlock your scabs,
By a fever your immortality you seek
In his salt marsh castle of vaccine jabs.
He'll salve your wounds of dirt and rusty stabs,
For mouldy water you'll work up a salty thirst,
Afore your eyes will pass milestones and tabs,
A templar knight by crowding you'll be cursed.
And cities are built on cities, my love,
Atop Jerusalem so push dusts shove.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Atop Jerusalem so push dusts shove.
Atop Jerusalem so push dusts barge.
Atop Jerusalem so push dusts ram.



Your salt and bitter tears stifle
Love's healing which is no trifle.

a study toward sonnet #205 by FisherKingKQJ

I've ignored your whiney, frivolous taunt
Out of character, more glitch than fault-
I'd pick of all quantum ghosts which haunt
Us now Lot's wife's salving pillar of salt.
Antiseptic salary lines your vault,
Your sauce and season blot a gourmet meal,
And my roaming eye is ready to bolt
To sweet bonbons beneath hermetic seal.
It's elements and spices finesse real-
When twelve friends talk about a table
Absent thirteenth rounds off their commonweal,
Who's halo'd as coin of realm and fable.
Your promiscuous past, either node or trough
My heart accepts with effort - think it through.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Your promiscuous past, either node or trough.
Your promiscuous past, either node or ditch.
Your promiscuous past, either node or gap.

a study toward sonnet #204 by FisherKingKQJ


Affirming by low laughs he aptly rolled
On me, his weight displaced to his elbows,
His pelvis humping dry my pelvis bold,
And teasing, his lips lightly gauging my nose.
At such times my eyes automatic close,
And open, his rapid, wild breath I track
Always ineptly fondling, and time slows
In ethereal scents and smells out of whack.
My love is certain in his wildcat knack
Of fascinating me, would not dismiss
My personal tragedies, there's no flak
Against my booboos, nor does he diss.
I lie with him on the ryegrass stop bank-
My flesh is delirious, my mind is blank.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I lie with him on the ryegrass stop bank.
I lie with him on the ryegrass stop ridge.
I lie with him on the ryegrass stop wall.

a study toward sonnet #203 by FisherKingKQJ

He pulled me close to him, and hips on hips
I reciprocated a ginger touch;
His tonguetip and lips assuaged my own lips,
I was in love in so far as, in as much.
So cherished, as myself, more than a crutch,
I leant back from my lower spine to appraise,
To flick some hair back, to savour his clutch
Accepting a fad or eternal craze.
He loved my selfless, samaritan ways,
My quickness to forgive all kinds of tripe
And further more it didn't fail to amaze-
At his loony mum I forwent a swipe.
He cupped the lacey outline of my breast
In trembling hand and warm it felt the best.

{3D interactive chorus:}

He cupped the lacey outline of my breast.
He cupped the lacey outline of my jug.
He cupped the lacey outline of my tit.

a study toward sonnet #202 by FisherKingKQJ

His hazel, glazed, contemplative eyes flicked
Up and into the thin laserlike beam
Of my own eyes; this moment he picked
With concern, his sorry self to redeem.
He needed a woman to bolster his esteem
In the world, there was a catch in his voice,
The tears which welled might as well teem,
I thought - I would be no one's second choice.
If he avoided girls, I'd eschew boys,
He would never look at an ash blonde,
Nor the other alchemical alloys,
A honey blonde or a platinum blonde.
His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde hair-
With a kiss I hear what I want to hear.

{3D interactive chorus:}

His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde hair.
His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde locks.
His eyes must cherish strawberry blonde tresses.

a study toward sonnet #201 by FisherKingKQJ

He insisted I give up the pretence,
But what he meant, actually, was my slant,
And he would pass or suspend sentence
On my apparent simple minded cant.
I bit my lower lip hard to stop a rant-
The salty, wet taste might've been blood salt,
I felt my lungs adopt a spasmodic pant
As he my motives continued to fault.
All my big dreams had been given a jolt-
All my massive plans of flying on cruise-
Destroyed by his hot, dismissive revolt-
That all women easily, often, bruise.
He couldn't stomach historic fellow
When our own history was splendid mellow.

{3D interactive chorus:}

He couldn't stomach historic fellow. SPADES
He couldn't stomach historic guy. CLUBS
He couldn't stomach historic man. DIAMONDS

a study toward sonnet #200 by FisherKingKQJ
HEARTS SPADES CLUBS DIAMONDS

The circumstance of prison is bizarre-
I wasn't a flight risk, my case would rest,
The nephew of Sheikh Bargin Bin Bazaar
Got me to sit his gyrocopter test.
My fake ID lead to his near arrest,
At Whenuapai I was handcuffed for fraud,
Aladdin's written English I addressed,
His prior swots at a licence were flawed.
By jumbo jets, belly dancers I'm awed...
His uncle's a brent crude oil billionaire
On the long-list for the cushion of Saud-
I'd co-pilot his automatic heir.
A good Samaritan I rot in gaol,
For belly dancers I landed in jail.

{3D interactive chorus:}

A good Samaritan I rot in gaol. SPADES
A good Samaritan I rot in detention. CLUBS
A good Sanaritan I rot in prison. DIAMONDS

a study toward sonnet #199 by FisherKingKQJ

I could feel his brutal and drunken gaze
In the battleground of frosted lights,
And washers and dimmers - it did not faze,
I did not fear his postures and sleights.
I'd become fed up with singleton nights,
Girlfriends had suggested a one night stand-
At a night club I got him in my sights,
He shouted bloody marys on command.
I took the pins and comb out slow and grand,
And sexily shook my chestnut hair loose,
He took off his cravat and signet band,
He gave my cellulite free cheeks a goose.
I heard myself anxiously baby cough,
My shimmering, bent leg was off the cuff.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My shimmering, bent leg was off-the-cuff.
My shimmering, bent leg was ad hoc.
My shimmering, bent leg was improvised.


[Editor's note: tramps, drag queens and limousine drivers, such as you and me, throw themselves at the glamour girl's feet.]

a study toward sonnet #198 by FisherKingKQJ

It seemed like a numbing movie or dream,
He forward bent and swiftly placed an arm
In the backs of my knees in the hem and seam,
He remarked my clear skin and inner calm.
Through the bra I felt his thumb and palm
Somewhat clumsily mould a turgid breast-
My loss of weight was no cause for alarm
Like a fasting labrat longevity I'd wrest.
Escape to our private beach and love nest!
My skirt puffed up round me in the eddy
As if a yellow parachute distressed-
He gripped my ribcage so calm and steady.
He carried me up the steps one by one-
Long before the GulfStream jet I'd been won.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Long before the Gulf Stream jet I'd been won.
Long before the Gulf Stream jet I'd been seized.
Long before the Gulf Stream jet I'd been trophied.

There's still a lot of mileage left in this form of the sonnet. I think I could do another 30 before switching to an easier variant.

a study toward sonnet #197 by FisherKingKQJ

Here's me in the mouldy corner bedroom
Of Clarence Lodge picking me crusty snot,
Mr Maddox' grey satellite mushroom
That's bolted to weather boards of dry rot.
Me mercury fillings've turned me clot
For wild animals, league, gallop and pace-
Mr Maddox' avatar I've found the plot,
Since at the docks I was laid off in a brace.
Jesus too loves bureaucrats on my case,
I enjoy me enforced life of loafer ease,
I like me flagon and to get off me face,
Life is as sweet as this Herne Bay breeze.
Me self-penned greatest hits I love to busk-
Jesus and I heal the kind and the brusque.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Jesus and I heal the kind and the brusque.
Jesus and I heal the kind and the gruff.
Jesus and I heal the kind and the offhand.

a study toward sonnet #196 by FisherKingKQJ

It obviously grated on him somewhat,
And his head moved into and then out
Of my personal space, he was on the spot-
He wished to kiss my arid, twitchy pout.
I rode the metaphysical drought
For a quick about turn watershed
Of our relationship - but how much clout
Did I have just as we were to be wed?
So with my taut, up tilted chin I lead-
Would he be faithful - only to me true?
At his touch I burst into flames instead,
Once frigid my passion for him burned blue.
I would wait on love's aromatic gas,
And his love in gestures upheld my guess.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I would wait on love's aromatic gas.
I would wait on love's aromatic spirit.
I would wait on love's aromatic vapour.

The interactive song is only sung once through by the solo. It is repeated three times word for word by hybrid human voice/wind instruments. The chorus is opened by poker dice and the lucky star, a member of the Punters' Union, sings a line. An electronic paycheque is issued to the lucky star's prepaid mobile. The phone numbers themselves are "disposable" readings of poker dice ie phone number: KQJ JJQ QJK.
There is a disposable wind instrument not unlike a kazoo.

A study toward sonnet #195 by FisherKingKQJ

Would he my love for him always requite?
If I couldn't satisfy him in bed,
If infertility became my blight,
If my habits adjudged millstone or lead?
My feeling of selfloathing had now bred
A second self, and my fists in my lap
So as to contain anxiety,or dilute spread,
I slowly wrung: I was weak, in a flap.
And obviously needy, void, a sensual gap,
I felt my mouth twitch; but in a blink
He missed my narcisstic handicap:
Of perfect bulimia what would he think?
All the room might hear my racing pulse,
I drew a steady breath not to repulse.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I drew a steady breath not to repulse.
I drew a steady breath not to appal.
I drew a steady breath not to disgust.

a study toward sonnet #194 by FisherKingKQJ

Her legs crossed, she gazed out the window pane
Of the carriage, her hem so slowly rode
Up her shapely thigh; she was absent again,
Such tedium her carnality always forbode.
My gaze her gaze attempted to decode,
The trunks which whizzed by, stands of trees
Which rolled by, the steady cumulus lode,
Her inner life wouldn't yield, wouldn't cease.
I could stand up and straighten a trouser crease,
I could walk off at sixty miles per hour,
I could do a u turn, drop to my knees,
I could not keep score of her every lour.
When she's garrulous our lives we fete,
And when she's philosopher all is freight.

{3D interactive chorus:}

And when she's philosopher all is freight.
And when she's philosopher all is cartage.
And when she's philosopher all is tare.

a study toward sonnet #193 by FisherKingKQJ

A denial wouldn't inspire largesse
Nor reasoning inspire a happy house
They would only lead to more charges
Of infidelity and burst in rows.
We were terrible: I was such a louse
So unworthy, and he, an obtuse joke,
In company of my diaphonous blouse.
A man, he mind read that other bloke,
If I socially mixed with womenfolk
It would only be as level and aloof
If I gave my girlfirend a kindly stroke
I would be suspected a closet poof.
A white lie I was quite prepared to foist,
So that of life we both could make a fist.

{3D interactive chorus:}

A white lie I was quite prepared to foist.
A white lie I was quite prepared to attach.
A white lie I was quite prepared to invoke.

a study toward sonnet #192 by FisherKingKQJ

I'm wasted this summer on Herne Bay beach
On a tarred boatshed ramp I like to sleep
In me white undies out of high tide reach
My duffel bag my pillow large and deep.
Come autumn I'll hitchhike the civvy leap
To Christchurch from Paremoremo
A Pavlovs dog I've sown what I reap
So said a parole board screwed up memo.
I'll give me excercise yard walkman gizmo
To me babe who never calls me a midget
I'm Captain Blackbeard or Captain Nemo
She's a lapdancer with a tattoo'd widget
I love me freckled, hot bleachblonde babe-
I drool by rote to lick pinkbutton boob.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I love my freckled, bottleblonde babe.
I love my freckled, bottleblonde doll.
I love my freckled, bottleblonde squeeze.

a study toward sonnet #191 by FisherKingKQJ

To look at this girl was absolute bliss,
She didn't look twenty three, more a teen;
Her homely looks called for no artifice,
Her hair was braided as before, as clean.
This favoured hairstyle trapped her between
Woman and child in a tug'o'war zone-
Unconsciously, she'd primp and preen,
As if I'd never left this sleepy town.
But I managed to pull her on her own,
And she recognised me with a like dread,
The years had whizzed by, they'd flown,
So first I kissed her on the forehead.
Her voice was young, and devoid of garnish,
Her retro raw silk dress slightly garish.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Her voice was young, and devoid of garnish.
Her voice was young and devoid of affectation.
Her voice was young and devoid of manner.

a study toward sonnet #190 by FisherKingKQJ

With a heavy heart I dropped the phone back
Into its cradle - I'd been calm and nice,
I supplied evidence just short of a hack
Or a snoop - but he still tumbled the dice.
I picked up the phone and slammed it down twice:
I was still his main squeeze? I started to sob-
I was such a fraud, and meekness my demise-
Why couldn't I confront that two timing fob?
Alpha males and feisty girls who hobnob
On jetties and superyachts would cheer
If I looking glass rehearsed a hatchet job
And shattered his fine, thin, brittle veneer.
So, when would I wake up and become real?
Would it be in the first or second reel?

{3D interactive chorus:}

So, when would I wake up and become real?
So, when would I wake up and become actual?
So, when would I wake up and become definite?

a study toward sonnet #189 by FisherKingKQJ

He turned up uninvited when a straight
And polite phone call would've done;
A casual approach was his family trait,
He was a free spirit, a slave to none.
At varsity, his hollow cheekbones had won
My heart, now they were chubby pink-
I was shocked to see his eyes weren't a dun
But a bright blue - I'd lost a vital link.
But I swear his hair once black as ink,
And pony tailed in a scrunchie bind,
Now it's grey and sparse - who would think?
I'm sure that I looked a stranger in kind.
So much for sweet memory's sustenance-
I'd rather love this man of substance.

{3D interactive chorus:}

So much for sweet memory's sustenance.
So much for sweet memory's elixir.
So much for sweet memory's tonic.

a study toward sonnet #188 by FisherKingKQJ

My family is stuffed, of no import,
I'll love you in a way myself denied;
Emotionally, you're distant or nought,
My loneliness for us two can provide.
I'll open doors for you on the upside,
I'll take on myself all your blame and guilt,
I'll earn the right to pleasure with small pride,
I love your sour, bipolar rock and tilt.
I love your boozing, your talk a slurring lilt,
Through you I put my melancholy off,
You're dull but I can embroider that quilt,
I'll turn you from low hiccup to hiccough.
You're the luckless loser who won my heart,
I can change you as much as it may hurt.

{3D interactive chorus:}

You're the luckless loser who won my heart.
You're the luckless loser who won my amour.
You're the luckless loser who won my love.

a study toward sonnet #187 by FisherKingKQJ

In Shanghai, my thighbones were buzzsaw cut,
My sinews stretched with screws and jimmy crows,
And so Fatboy, the patronising slut,
Now has to look up his aquiline nose.
Fatboy sleeps with tourists, dykes and yoyos,
And it's me, Julio, seven foot, who looms
A poppy tall, who smells a lily or a rose,
Who a five o'clock shadow proudly grooms.
My facelift slit eyes aren't to his taste,
His pussy, a transplanted appendix,
So womanly, I think a consummate waste-
There's some things a surgeon couldn't fix.
I help Fatman contemplate his navel-
He leans on the Family and Naval.

{3D interactive chorus:}

I help Fatman contemplate his navel.
I help Fatman contemplate his bellybutton.
I help Fatman contemplate his innie-outie.

a study toward sonnet #186 by FisherKingKQJ

I blinked off my eyelids many teardrops
And with handkerchief corner dab and pat
All the while as we walked through the copse
I swabbed away my exfiancee, the gnat.
I feigned hayfever, in phrases dull and flat,
A white lie, he tugged on my dickey sleeve,
He squeezed my shoulders, he tipped his hat,
He said the past was the past, now an eve.
He was genteel, he said he'd never leave,
I'd fallen for his ways slightly stiff and proud,
When gauged against rough play, just a peeve,
I worried I might be thinking aloud.
He adores me for my fibs and white lies,
Loves thorough histrionic b movie lines.

{3D interactive chorus:}

He adores me for my fibs and white lies.
He adores me for my fibs and white dissembly.
He adoires me for my fibs and white fiction.

[Line 14 rewritten to lengthen and match line 1. 14/9/05]

a study toward sonnet #185 by FisherKingKQJ

I didn't want to see him, however
To ignore him would look so weak,
Or criminally secret - best to sever
The subtext by an understated cheek.
My tired demeanour he took as meek,
His opinion of my spring catalogue,
Unsolicited, revealed a mean streak-
He was a credulous, conniving dog.
I had one offs and off the racks to flog,
I felt somewhat itchy and so I crossed
My thin legs and then I felt a tiny jog
As on my naked thigh his gaze was lost.
My accidental win I didn't sing-
I repeated his words without their sting.

{3D interactive chorus:}

My accidental win I didn't sing.
My accidental win I didn't coo.
My accidental win I didn't trumpet.

sonnet #184 by FisherKingKQJ

But my animal instincts overwhelmed
My level judgement - I stood on tiptoe,
My wrists on his shoulders - then I helmed
A french kiss at his lips - wet, long, deep, slow.
He wriggled away, it was such a blow,
And of course, as I was his brother's fiancee,
For all three it might end in teary sorrow
If this set the tone, he would enter the fray.
What came over me? I was so quick to betray
My own values for a playful intrigue
With a near stranger who didn't obey
As I willed - were we in or out of league?
What was this fireball ahead of thunder?
It might knock us down, turn us tinder.

{3D interactive chorus:}

What was this fireball ahead of thunder?
What was this fireball ahead of growl?
What was this fireball ahead of rumble?

a study toward sonnet #183 by FisherKingKQJ
in A flat

In her complete cycle I stash true wealth,
She's a perfect wife of white powder gold,
She ties the boutique vineyard of my health,
She massages my pain without a scold.
At dawn she starts her duties manifold,
A desklamp budget, a bird chorus adding allure,
She irons winter clothes for the household,
She bakes linseed loaves of ingredients pure.
She balms with humour an all purpose cure,
The few words she speaks are solemn and wise,
She's charming, considerate and demure,
Her children care for her in old age, the prize.
It took me time to see this doll-like waif
As a potential, nay, so perfect wife.

{3D interactive chorus in B flat:}

As a potential, nay, so perfect wife.
As a potential, nay, so perfect mate.
As a potential, nay, so perfect spouse.

a study toward sonnet #182 by FisherKingKQJ
in F flat

When twelve I told Mum I wouldn't wed...
And God rest her soul, my husband to be
I met in a resthome on his deathbed...
I was fifty gone mad, he was seventy three.
A nurse, I'd lift the cup, he'd sip the tea,
I'd shoulder him to his zimmer frame,
As he had chronic arthritis in a clicking knee,
We'd smile at the aceydeucy boardgame.
And though he'd forget his own name
In espionage he'd played a crucial mole;
In time, insidious love took its claim-
He widowed Anglican, me a Catholic soul.
The passage of time has made our love plain,
And gone is the colour hair gave me pain.

{3D interactive corus in G flat:}

The passage of time has made our love plain.
The passage of time has made our love obvious.
The passage of time has made our love straightforward.

a study toward sonnet #181 by FisherKingKQJ
in D flat

An easygoing dwarf he fell well short
An oddball he cussed short odd Hoipolloi
A prophet his halitosis meant naught
A gourmet he with five courses could toy
A salesman he swore personable ploy
A loony he gamed clashing zodiac signs
A textmessage stalker he'd just annoy
A pick nose smoker he was all whines
A Mandarin he read between the lines
A winetaster he was coached by his mum
A mute he spelled out his SMS pines
A comb over he was soused in bay rum
My first time dates are still salutary
I might stay untouched and solitary?

[Major overhaul of nine lines, though content
essentially unchanged. 15/9/05]

{3D chorus in E flat:}

I might stay untouched and solitary?
I might stay untouched and hermit?
I might stay untouched and loner?

Consistent payouts and decent working conditions from the Punters' Union. Unionisation of the audience in the upbeat.
Potential offices in:
St Petersburg
Beijing
Budapest
Havana
Hobart
Zanzibar
Rio de Janeiro
A brief pause as a change in production methods is put in place.

a study toward sonnet #180 by FisherKingKQJ
in B flat

My Funga drank our last flagon of beer
She's roped in Jack as our prepaid guest-
I find this miser more than a little queer,
His overnight shelter ten she's accessed.
Poor Jack must feel he's second best,
His toes on a pillow between our heads-
At Funga Lady Muck's eloquent request
Jack his safety pin and broken fly zip sheds.
His miser fortune he fears for, he dreads
A shakedown while sleeping rough by roughnecks;
At low tide in Bastion Point pipi beds
In a thermos flask he's stashed welfare cheques.
For a month Jack checks into a motel
With a check- out girl sometime hand- model.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

With a check- out girl sometime hand- model.
With a check- out girl sometime hand- artiste.
With a check- out girl sometime hand- poser.

a study toward sonnet #179 by FisherKingKQJ
in G flat

I organised the effect my retreat
From him would evoke and he knew I knew;
It wasn't primeval, it was cheeky conceit,
And yet I'd dropped a hint, I'd tossed a clue.
He turned white, he cringed as if to spew-
When I meant a soft tai chi kick in the groin;
But my good estimation of him grew....
Impulse was the other side of his coin.
He swung me about, my kiss to purloin,
My boobs were squashed on his solid chest,
My pelvis on his - he was a hungry doyen
Of reversals - his lips my wet lips addressed.
My steady boyfriend is a wreckless beast,
Yet out of my spirit he brings the best.

{3D interactive chorus in A flat:}

My steady boyfriend is a wreckless beast.
My steady boyfriend is a wreckless animal.
My steady boyfriend is a wreckless creature.

a study toward sonnet #178 by FisherKingKQJ
in E flat

A hot blush now prickled my cheeks and brow
At his practised excuses and his smooth chat;
And locks of straw blonde hair had slipped their stow,
Had escaped my large beret, this way that.
Analysed, the content of his words was scat-
All terrain charming, flirting to a fault;
He claimed his passes by aerogrotat,
The relationship had stonked to a halt...
My chest seemed a leaden, unmoving vault
In a graveyard; I'd thrown a hissy fit
And yet he stayed in my car, didn't bolt
As my out of character abuse hit.
I'm not saying I don't love him in bulk,
However, at condescension I balk.

{3D interactive chorus in F flat:}

I'm not saying I don't love him in bulk.
I'm not saying I don't love him in mass.
I'm not saying I don't love him in quiddity.

a study toward sonnet #177 by FisherKingKQJ
in D flat

What a duplicitous and sickly world
It is when a man is set up to fail;
Hypocrisy represents straight as curled,
And schadenfraude embraces things that ail.
A constable puts a shoplifter in jail
And nods to gangsters an easy, short shrift;
A politician commands a firesale
And seizes a payrise as token thrift.
A parent extolls a family rift
And hires out his teenager any price.
A trader thinks bookvalue a free gift
And sells to colleagues paper twice.
My musing isn't suicidal, only snide,
For as long as I have you by my side.

{3D interactive chorus in E flat:}

My musing isn't suicidal, only snide.
My musing isn't suicidal, only derogatory.
My musing isn't suicidal, only caustic.

a study toward sonnet #176 by FisherKingKQJ
B flat

Two short, abrupt toots on the car horn,
The van rolled down in neutral gear,
I knew who it was, I was careworn,
And burst into tears, I could feel his stare.
It didn't bother me if he felt some fear
Or anger; the ladder in my pantyhose
Had aggravated the atmosphere
I leaned the bucket seat flat, my feet rose.
I wriggled out, on the dashboard my toes:
We both laughed awkwardly, the frown
On my face larger and more morose
Than the frown in my heart cast down.
We'd bickered at the One Tree Hill fence stile,
I'd stormed off in dramatic diva style.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

I'd stormed off in dramatic diva style.
I'd stormed off in dramatic diva custom.
I'd stormed off in dramatic diva method.

a study toward sonnet #175 by FisherKingKQJ
in G flat

On the other end of the phone line
I got a pedantic and stilted reply,
A piped tune and a pushbutton grapevine,
My lips moistened for chitchat went dry.
I'd let him eavesdrop me and freely pry,
So could he hear my galloping heartbeat?
I batted my eyelids to sign this guy,
And distract him from my blushing heat.
I'd paced my breath, a benign deceit,
And shivers spiralled up and down my spine;
Did his eyes find my lips ripe and sweet?
I wanted his twitching lips pressed on mine.
His eyes rested on my sombre lips,
I put down the phone after two ad libs.

{3D interactive chorus in G flat:}

I put down the phone after two ad libs.
I put down the phone after two quips.
I put down the phone after two wisecracks.

a study toward sonnet #174 by FisherKingKQJ
in E flat

O my sweet, you're a mysterious beauty
You're one woman in a thousand pretty
Sculptors and painters pay you duty
But ancient rapes shape your nittygritty.
You're educated, flippant and witty,
You're both low and high hanging fruit
You're too well groomed to evoke pity,
And contraception cancels any brute.
You're transparent offwhite, golden cute,
You've beaten karma with medical leisure,
Your double d bust is your attribute,
A wad of dollars is my manhood's measure.
Your genes are in demand, thinly spread,
Neither dwarf nor millionaire hunk is spared.

{3D interactive chorus:}

Your genes are in demand, thinly spread.
Your genes are in demand, thinly cast.
Your genes are in demand, thinly plastered.

a study toward sonnet #173 by FisherKingKQJ
in C flat

All my life is subliminal and baffled pain,
From the agonies of the gymn treadmill
To the cinema stall seat backside strain-
All sustained by workaday's placebo pill.
Always, your kindness is angled to chill:
I've got a migraine squinting at your gloss,
My good cholesterol drains off your grill,
Along with bad cholesterol, as dross.
You wear the culottes, you're the boss,
Even when it comes to trivia brushed aside,
It's my brand of trivia - you force and floss
A small kiss where a big kiss is denied.
Now, some solitude I'd like to savour
It may yield a solace to be our saviour.

{3D interactive chorus in D flat:}

Now, some solitude I'd like to savour.
Now, some solitude I'd like to mull.
Now, some solitude I'd like to taste.

a study toward sonnet #172 by FisherKingKQJ
in A flat

I leaned on the balcony balustrade
And my eyes roamed the exquisite sea;
The ozone and salt in my nostrils swayed
My mood from gloom to joy decisively.
For the life of plankton simple and free
Which clubbed to mirror and intersperse
The stars with their bioluminscent apogee
Somehow seemed a black and open purse.
Industrial diamond sparks looked to discurse
Mission Bay's nightlife; but the acrid smell
Of Havanna cigar smoke and a terse
And thick cough on his part broke the spell.
So what were we as we gazed into space?
A girl beside herself, a near perfect spouse.

{3D interactive chorus in B flat:}

A girl beside herself, a near perfect spouse.
A girl beside herself, a near perfect livein.
A girl beside herself, a near perfect mate.

a study toward sonnet #171 by FisherKingKQJ
in F flat

I straightened the lapels of his sports coat
And giggled looking upward to his eyes;
A girl with a pup on a leash now remote,
This was the time to strike and to devise.
I loved him to point of veil and burka guise:
He pulled me close, a hand cupped my backside,
He kissed me; my debate against white lies,
He loved, such a contrarian would be his guide.
The visas to a his and hers zig zag ride
On a dromedary and a bactrian veered;
He had little money, and still less pride,
His linguistics were import export-geared.
I'd chosen him without really thinking,
In the desert we'd still be tinkering.

{3D interactive chorus:}

In the desert we'd still be tinkering.
In the desert we'd still be fiddling.
In the desert we'd still be mending.

a study toward sonnet #170 by FisherKingKQJ
in D flat

He'd shaken his head with a smiling snort...
I was an idiot, an hourglass figure-
He was a nickel billionaire I'd sold short-
I'd pigeonholed him a suave gold digger.
A coin or metal nuance was the trigger,
I'd goofily questioned his financial skills;
He changed nickel piles into treasury bills,
He'd underplayed wealth not faked it bigger.
From his stepfather he'd learnt the drills
Of merchant banking, how to fund manage...
He'd just leased the mansion Poplar Hills-
Might we look for a son in the orphanage?
His love for me lent me indemnity
From headstrong mistaken identity.

{3D interactive chorus in E flat:}

His love for me lent me indemnity.
His love for me lent me cover.
His love for me lent me sanctuary.

a study toward sonnet #169 by FisherKingKQJ
in B flat

You habit two places at once, my sweet,
Whatever you might think. Looking-glasses
Of the Renaissance were first to defeat
Effect and cause, which holism surpasses.
Overseas, far off, your other life amasses-
And do I worry for you? Yes, indeed;
I love your essence in several classes:
Home movies, photos, videophone live feed.
You're ubiquitous, yet such is my greed
For you, I want you outside time in 3D,
I worry you by an ambulance freed
Of exit wounds or car wreck malady.
My sweet, it used to be near immoral
To worry aloud, but now we're immortal.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

My sweet, it used to be near immoral.
My sweet, it used to be near unethical.
My sweet, it used to be near decadent.

a study toward sonnet #168 by FisherKingKQJ
in G flat


As we'd be sharing everything in future
I didn't think it mattered who owned the loot;
I'd introduced him to some haut couture,
He'd admired my backside in a dress suit.
I'd saved his bas reliefs from his own boot,
From his ripping palette knife a still life,
He sneered I was posing high hanging fruit,
Then I'd asked him if I could be his wife;
Always in his blue eyes laughter was rife-
He'd divined I'd eavesdrop and peer,
He'd lingered the kiss to stir jealous strife.
She was a graphic arts student with flair
He shrugged and bit his lip as if to say
Now on my flash car and money could stay.

{3D interactive chorus in A flat:}

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say.
He shrugged his shoulders as if to mention.
He shrugged his shoulders as if to verbalise.

a study toward sonnet #167 by FisherKingKQJ
in E flat

I own up...I was obsessed...it was a rout...
I was in love with him, I looked into those
Wide, sparkling eyes only to blush, to flout
My fiancee, the man my intellect chose.
I felt my heart racing; he snagged me close
To him, he pushed his lips on mine to start
A lingering french kiss, nose bumping nose,
He apologised for his persuasive art.
He'd convinced me to accept time apart,
He'd believed I was far too young to deduce
True love, perhaps I'd try the singles' mart...
But he'd only hurt himself with the ruse.
How to abseil a romance I've been taught:
It's zigzag of crags and spikes which thwart.

{3D interactive chorus in F flat:}

It's path by manmade obstacles is thraught.
It's path by manmade obstacles is blocked.
It's path by manmade obstacles is dammed.

a study toward sonnet #166 by FisherKingKQJ
in C flat

As she swabbed the cut we swapped a joke
Or two; though she was the boss' girlfriend
Her peck of my forehead almost broke
My self control into kisses no end.
After that I found it hard to pretend
I wasn't jealous when she mentioned him.
I was on the ladder to crimp and mend
The gutter and spout, a knee on a tree limb
And I overheard a woman talking in a prim
And responsible way on a cordless phone;
I peeked in the window, I saw a trim
Ash blonde woman on a pine daybed prone.
From the ladder I tumbled with a thump,
By chance turned a low card into a trump.

{3D interactive chorus in D flat:}

From the ladder I tumbled with a thump.
From the ladder I tumbled with a bang.
From the ladder I tumbled with a crash.

a study toward sonnet #165 by FisherKingKQJ
in A flat

The evening before she was really meant
To come back, he brought chianti, a wax wrap
Of marigolds stems. Now she was absent
We tumbled into the transferral trap.
We had a tipple without much mishap,
As kiddies played their console video games;
While I tucked them in later, flap by flap,
He triggered thoughts of one of my old flames.
I wasn't one to give out or take blames,
So I employed the cordless phone to ring
A taxi, not sure of our drunk mind frames,
And he kissed my nape, starting off our fling.
In the conservatory we made love,
As stars were twinkled by wind on a louvre.

{3D interactive chorus in B flat:}

In the conservatory we made love.
In the conservatory we made amour.
In the conservatory we made whoopy.

a study toward sonnet #164 by FisherKingKQJ
in F flat

He kept kissing me, I wanted him to stop.
I was plastered with kisses. Following on,
We sneaked any free time we could cop
And in good time she sussed our con.
She'd let herself in to what she'd foregone
She found us naked on the study rug.
She shouted, hurt through angry tears shone,
And she strode out. He gave me a guilty hug,
He pulled on a shirt, gave his fly a tug,
He pleaded and promised it a one off
To no avail and gave a cupboard a slug,
From the lawn I heard her garbled scoff.
Her mother ill I'd volunteered nanny,
Instead I'd tricked my friend as a ninny.

{3D interactive chorus in G flat:}

Instead I'd tricked my friend as a ninny.
Instead I'd tricked my friend as a gimp.
Instead I'd tricked my friend as a lunk.

a study toward sonnet #163 by FisherKingKQJ
in D flat

In the Onehunga carpark public gents
Education for a fly on the wall:
The graffiti tags, the abscence of vents
The peephole riddled disabled man's stall.
I'm a retired maggot from the hospital,
I was reared on Gainer's Fuel by interns;
There might be a meal in doctorly scrawl
Above the urinal, a bum a pecker yearns.
A gangrenous sphincter of friction burns
Might be aroused by the missus' maggots,
Though we much prefer the messy churns
Of Thais squatting on seats, to the faggots.
By the thorax my leggy missus I seize:
From behind I pump to compound the sleaze.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

By the thorax my leggy missus I seize.
By the thorax my leggy missus I grab.
By the thorax my leggy missus I clasp.

a study toward sonnet #162 by FisherKingKQJ
in B flat

I live with Funga in St Joseph's lodge,
We share a double bed so dank and wet:
She's a five foot ten twohundred pound podge,
She cribs my baccy, I'll bash her head, yet.
She'll pinch my begging jar to clear a debt,
Her trained voice, her piano sound nice.
Sometimes I swoon at her charm and forget
Receiving money with menaces her vice.
She's swotted Queen Nerfititi's head lice,
Hers are statically combed and hand reared,
She chews on them as Polynesian rice,
She nitpicks my bald scalp and goatee beard.
She cultivates pubic lice as organic,
She finds the tickle and pinch orgasmic.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

She cultivates pubic lice as organic.
She cultivates pubic lice as earthy.
She cultivates pubic lice as natural.

a study toward sonnet #161 by FisherKingKQJ

I'm confused: is that me in your eye gleam?
Me and me right side up, a one time brat-
With you, things become what they seem,
Your 3D tables and walls endorse flat.
I love you in the ninth life of a cat,
You're upside down in millions of grey shades,
Yet your cheeks still translate a rosy that
On my retinas bakes its smiling grades.
I love that you love twill pinstripes and plaids,
I can't wait to map blindspot to blindspot
The two seconds before a first kiss trades,
I'm down a blind alley, lost in your subplot.
I profess I've got the lovesick boy shakes,
Which your elusive coy character shapes.

{3D interactive chorus in G flat:}

I profess I've got the lovesick boy shakes.
I profess I've got the lovesick boy quivers.
I profess I've got the lovesick boy tremors.

a study toward sonnet #160 by FisherKingKQJ
in E flat



I have a palate for bad or else worse,
Intractable problems salt away joy.
The imp bad luck, or else demon curse-
One is quite blatant, the other quite coy.
You'd think crime and mischief would alloy
But they're tempered apart in scum and dregs,
Both like to flatter me as man and boy
A summer shower a winter storm so legs.
A question the situation often begs,
A lecher becomes himself more and more,
A slut and a whore take him up two pegs,
They run true to type, and he's a wise saw.
Agony aunt and professional friend,
I love them both as an embittered fiend.

{3D interactive chorus in F flat:}

Agony aunt and professional friend.
Agony aunt and professional mate.
Agony aunt and professional pal.

a study toward sonnet #159 by FisherKingKQJ
in C flat

It's back to I met you by happenstance
In a gabbing gang of women and men.
I'm delirious, to use common parlance,
I nod on your fifty words now and then.
You're primping now, your eyes betray a yen
For flirting - so I feign a roaming eye,
Yourself no phoenix-like hen-party hen,
You'd flame me slippers, pipe and armchair spy.
An awkward time is the best for byebye-
Upside down, back to front, and inside out
We know each other - I'll angle an exit sly
While at the gym you kickbox, flirt and pout.
Another brand, or another flavour-
So who is doing who the loving favour?

{3D interactive chorus in D flat:}

Another brand, or another flavour.
Another brand, or another mull.
Another brand, or another taste.

taste, savour, mull.

a study toward sonnet #158 by FisherKingKQJ
in A flat

Your native shyness is almost visceral,
It's habitual, you pull back without thinking,
More private than a bobcat, and feral
Even, but in time I've gained an inkling.
You're a star beyond and beneath twinkling,
A blackhole in a white blaze, in a door
A wicket, and in love with you I'm sinking;
You're the ice wedge in the wormhole thaw.
You're exemplary earth mother at core,
Where I'm a comet hectic and errant-
You're shy mimosa, you're shy marigold, or
You're a sweet yet anaemic pitcher plant.
A sun at your twigs, a sun at your roots,
You're a fountain of symmetry which suits.

{3D interactive chorus in B flat:}

You're a fount of symmetry which suits.
You're a fount of symmetry which fits.
You're a fount of symmetry which matches.

a study toward sonnet #157 by FisherKingKQJ
in F flat


...I struck out for the strand, but my swim strokes
Were stymied by the choppy waves...I was tripped
From behind by him as weakly he tried to coax
Me to his plan, under water I slipped.
Our noses snorting bubbles, I was gripped
By him still, I emerged seconds later, ahead
Of the so and so, trod water; I'd just nipped
Him, salty bull kelp and my hair spread
On my eyes and chin. He'd deeply misread
His chances, yet his arm curled round my ribs,
My palms pushed at his chest, I'd almost fled,
No way now was he getting first dibs.
But we were roiled by the dark undertow
Our thighs bumped together in the grey flow.

{3D interactive chorus in G flat}

Our thighs bumped together in the grey flow.
Our thighs bumped together in the grey current.
Our thighs bumped together in the grey stream.

a study toward sonnet #156 by FisherKingKQJ
in D flat

A happy ever after? Who would've thought?
You're far away in thought in your photo portrait.
Perhaps in a bas relief you might be better caught,
In hundred and eighty degree rotate?
Or perhaps a two places at once superstate:
You dissolve into gales of chuckles and mirth,
You grin and shake your head when you're late,
You make me the only person on earth,
You storm out a room knowing your own worth,
Your lips twitch when I attempt to amuse,
You sort of give other girls a wide berth,
And you shrug your shoulders if there's no use.
I love you three hundred and sixty degrees:
If I didn't we'd both be wild mistigris.

{3D interactive chorus in E flat:}

If I didn't we'd both be wild mistigris.
If I didn't we'd both be wild fools.
If I didn't we'd both be wild jokers.

a study toward sonnet #155 by FisherKingKQJ
in B flat

I'd expected him to be evasive,
And my deceased brother roundabout dissed.
He looked a gargoyle stoney impassive,
Any fear or qualms I quickly dismissed.
I'd picked a dry malmsey from the winelist,
We dined on fresh, panfried garlic rockfish
And boiled down potatoes in seasalt grist
With mojo picon sauce, a Tenerife dish.
Las Palmas town was a nirvana niche
It teemed tourists and military types,
Arab merchant sailors dapper and swish,
The beach downtown fit the travelogue hypes.
On the lantern lit boardwalk a whistle:
To my accident prone brother a silbo epistle.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

On the lantern lit boardwalk a whistle.
On the lantern lit boardwalk a chirp.
On the lantern lit boardwalk a pipe.

a study toward sonnet #154 by FisherKingKQJ
in F flat

I take pseudophedrine to freeze out cold
And scotch endorphin's natural exude,
And over- the- counter might be oversold
To liver in a kidney civil feud.
My joints and ligaments by pain sinewed,
A trojan horse itch in my nose replete,
A sniffy peck by sweet you is reissued;
Your grand pyrrhic victory no small feat.
You decide my clothes, which tofu to eat-
Madam, my fingers I limber and crack
In driving gloves, you drive from the backseat:
If not pleasure, you're a pleasurable rack.
To high death I prefer low level pain,
Your watery eyes sick, to sobbing vain.

{3D interactive chorus in G flat:}

Your watery eyes sick, to sobbing vain.
Your watery eyes sick, to sobbing arrogant.
Your watery eyes sick, to sobbing conceit.

a study toward sonnet #153 by FisherKingKQJ
in D flat

I was madly, completely in love with a boy
Who hardly acknowledged my existence,
He was in a relationship to further annoy...
I sucked in a sigh to sustain commonsense.
My current fellow gave up the pretence,
With his hand he stifled politely a yawn-
I'd primped, I'd flirted, with no recompense
Though we were face to face, pawn to pawn.
I escaped the gaze of this glass unicorn,
And as the roof rattled, I found a better table
And chair at the window. I loved a forlorn,
Wet likeness under the deli gable.
He had the posture, jaw angle, height, too,
Across the wet, hailstone stung avenue.

{3D interactive chorus in E flat:}

Across the wet, hailstone stung avenue.
Across the wet, hailstone stung road.
Across the wet, hailstone stung street.

a study toward sonnet #152 by FisherKingKQJ
in B flat

He moved his weight with an awkward jolt
To yinyang the chaise lounge for a quickie;
In a second he started his soft assault,
He began to french kiss, stroke and lick me.
He undid the buttons of my dickey,
I moaned my consent, and then he murmured
Nonsense, he shaped my navel with his sticky
Long tongue; he pushed aside my cups to gird
And fondle my heaving breasts. He assured
Me by squeezing my shoulders a moment,
Against an idea of of deep love inured;
His lewd tongue furled my nipples to foment.
We made love once till I was tired and sore:
He's now a friend of a friend, as before.

{3D interactive chorus in C flat:}

He's now a friend of a friend, as before.
He's now a friend of a friend, as earlier.
He's now a friend of a friend, as previous.