Double Ballad Post
Titles: Celia Doom, The Crimes of Mia Culpa
Genre: Victorian AU poetry
Summary: Two more "Despair Ballads."
Rating: ... sorry! So sorry!
TO CELIA
CELIA DOOM was the sweetest girl,
The sweetest girl I knew!
Gentle eyes of the palest red,
So pale you'd think they're blue!
Lost her Mum to a poison soup,
(The girl was only ten!)
One month went, and she lost her Dad -
(The soup was spiked again.)
Gentle CELIA DOOM,
CELIA DOOM of mine!
So what if the fire
Consumed me entire?
All that I had was thine!
Innocent CELIA DOOM!
Devil-eyed damozel!
The delicate dame
Who set me aflame
Set my heart aflame as well!
---
THE CRIMES OF MIA CULPA
MISS MIA was a martyr to a clinical condition
That pushed her to a posture of perpetual contrition.
Quite certain of her wickedness, she regularly cried,
"I'm absolutely sorry! oh, I'm deeply mortified!"
A would-be burglar slipped and fell upon MISS MIA's stairway,
But unlike men who demonize all footpads who come their way,
"I'm absolutely sorry!" MIA cried. "Your aching head!"
And gave him fifty guineas and the blanket off her bed.
"Oi, there! Your face, it sickens me," declared the drunken thief;
How swiftly MIA crumpled as he 'socked' her in the 'teef!'
She sputtered through a flood of tears torrential and intense,
"I'm absolutely sorry that my face is an offense!"
Another day, misreading all the glances we bestowed her:
"I'm absolutely sorry for my paralyzing odor!"
She paid a little fortune for a cask of Eau du Brie;
This perfume, I'm afraid to say, is rancid as can be.
But heavy was the burden of perpetual repentance,
And surely one sin unatoned would bring no dire sentence?
Her overactive conscience for a moment she'd ignore,
And furtively purloin a penny toffee from the store!
She fled the scene, exclaiming, "I am absolutely sorry!
I promise not to eat it!" And she did not see the lorry
That bore down on her fleeing form with swift, avenging force,
And, as it swerved to miss her, spooked a passing carriage-horse.
The carriage slipped a wheel, crashed, and overbore a tree
That toppled on a 'bus that held the Royal Familee.
The 'bus was run on 'petrol' and was 'horseless' - what a shame,
For all it once it burst into a multicoloured flame!
Propelled by this explosive gout, the Death-Bus went careening
Across the street, quite heedless of the orphans intervening.
The orphanage was selling them in Urchin Package Deals -
"So sorry!" MIA shouted, as they perished 'neath the wheels.
Away the BOBBIES took her, for Mass Murder is unlawful.
"I'm absolutely sorry! Very sorry! It's so awful!"
Of course, her guilt was clear, as I've related with aplomb.
(Though one unfeeling brute alleged that CELIA threw a bomb.)
"MISS CULPA," said the magistrate, "you're charged with Murder, Treason,
Arson, Vandalism, Petty Theft... I really see no reason
Not to hang you after teatime." Slowly, gently, MIA spoke:
"I'm absolutely...
... fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!"
Genre: Victorian AU poetry
Summary: Two more "Despair Ballads."
Rating: ... sorry! So sorry!
TO CELIA
CELIA DOOM was the sweetest girl,
The sweetest girl I knew!
Gentle eyes of the palest red,
So pale you'd think they're blue!
Lost her Mum to a poison soup,
(The girl was only ten!)
One month went, and she lost her Dad -
(The soup was spiked again.)
Gentle CELIA DOOM,
CELIA DOOM of mine!
So what if the fire
Consumed me entire?
All that I had was thine!
Innocent CELIA DOOM!
Devil-eyed damozel!
The delicate dame
Who set me aflame
Set my heart aflame as well!
---
THE CRIMES OF MIA CULPA
MISS MIA was a martyr to a clinical condition
That pushed her to a posture of perpetual contrition.
Quite certain of her wickedness, she regularly cried,
"I'm absolutely sorry! oh, I'm deeply mortified!"
A would-be burglar slipped and fell upon MISS MIA's stairway,
But unlike men who demonize all footpads who come their way,
"I'm absolutely sorry!" MIA cried. "Your aching head!"
And gave him fifty guineas and the blanket off her bed.
"Oi, there! Your face, it sickens me," declared the drunken thief;
How swiftly MIA crumpled as he 'socked' her in the 'teef!'
She sputtered through a flood of tears torrential and intense,
"I'm absolutely sorry that my face is an offense!"
Another day, misreading all the glances we bestowed her:
"I'm absolutely sorry for my paralyzing odor!"
She paid a little fortune for a cask of Eau du Brie;
This perfume, I'm afraid to say, is rancid as can be.
But heavy was the burden of perpetual repentance,
And surely one sin unatoned would bring no dire sentence?
Her overactive conscience for a moment she'd ignore,
And furtively purloin a penny toffee from the store!
She fled the scene, exclaiming, "I am absolutely sorry!
I promise not to eat it!" And she did not see the lorry
That bore down on her fleeing form with swift, avenging force,
And, as it swerved to miss her, spooked a passing carriage-horse.
The carriage slipped a wheel, crashed, and overbore a tree
That toppled on a 'bus that held the Royal Familee.
The 'bus was run on 'petrol' and was 'horseless' - what a shame,
For all it once it burst into a multicoloured flame!
Propelled by this explosive gout, the Death-Bus went careening
Across the street, quite heedless of the orphans intervening.
The orphanage was selling them in Urchin Package Deals -
"So sorry!" MIA shouted, as they perished 'neath the wheels.
Away the BOBBIES took her, for Mass Murder is unlawful.
"I'm absolutely sorry! Very sorry! It's so awful!"
Of course, her guilt was clear, as I've related with aplomb.
(Though one unfeeling brute alleged that CELIA threw a bomb.)
"MISS CULPA," said the magistrate, "you're charged with Murder, Treason,
Arson, Vandalism, Petty Theft... I really see no reason
Not to hang you after teatime." Slowly, gently, MIA spoke:
"I'm absolutely...
... fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!"