Tag Archives: hypocrisy

Hypocrisy

Those who would deny
That we are all hypocrites to some extent,
Should repent
Of their lie!

A few,
Its true
Maybe naive,
And themselves deceive.
Yet I
Say that most men, deliberately lie.

So I
Will try
Not to condemn
Other men
Lest they should find me out
And, from the church rooftops shout,
“Sir, you also, lie!”.

Some possess the art
To conceal, within their heart,
Their own hypocrisy. But conscience or fear
Does, in their nightmares shout,
“Your fellow man may find you out!”.

The Agency

Beautiful women
For your pleasure.
You may browse at your leisure.
There will be no sinning
For we
Only offer company,
But, what goes on behind closed doors . . .
We break no laws
But, discerning gentleman will understand
that money may command
a girlfriend
For the night
If the price is right,
But we must both pretend . . .
You do understand that we
Only provide company . . .

If All Are Dreams Could Be Known

If all our dreams could
Be known
Who then would
Throw the first stone?

Alone in our head
We dread
That one day our dreams will be known.
So tell me my friend will
You still
Be the one to throw the first stone?

When Inocence Met Desire

When innocence met desire
They say
That the Town Crier
Had a field day.
The populace rose in disgust
And filled with hate
They lynched the reprobate,
While deep inside
Their own lust
They secretly did hide.

This Internet Thing

“This internet thing
Can only immorality bring.
I mean,
Imagine the scene
Where Jack can be Jill
(and almost certainly will),
For who can see behind the screen
Of this new fangled computer machine?”

In my day we had top shelf magazines
And watched scenes
On video
(on second thoughts best not go
There)!
Anyway I swear
That society is going to pot,
(have you got
Any by the way? …)”.

What The Neighbours See

What the neighbours see
Need not concern you and me,
For our lives are so boring
We will have them snoring.
So lets continue ignoring
The twitching curtain
For it is certain
They can only perceive
The milkman leave
The milk,
As we wave him goodbye in our dressinggown of silk …

What the neighbours spy
Need not concern you and I
For walls are thin
And we can not help but hear the din
Of the squeaking bed
When Mrs Ed
Is away.
So we say
“Hi”
As we pass by
But do not catch our neighbour’s eye …

Mr Apples

I am not a huge fan of the pop group Madness. However there recently released song, “Mr Apples” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWUisvmZRiw) caught my attention. The song deals with hypocrisy as does my poem “The Hypocrite”, (https://newauthoronline.com/2015/07/26/the-hypocrite/). Madness’s song does, I think make the point with humour and (possibly) a touch of compassion for Mr Apples.

The hypocrite

You choke on your cornflakes over stories of vicars and hoares,

And when the death sentence is imposed you give loud applause.

When they call for moral regeneration your first in the queue,

Oh my friend what if they knew what you do.

Behind closed doors the lamplight is low,

To the girl, barely legal, you are “Mr So and So”.

When the deed’s done homewards you go,

To the wife, and the kids – fine, upstanding Mr So and So.

 

The Call Girl

Suzie winced as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Was this the same Suzie Jeffries, the daughter of Mark Jeffries, the vicar of Little Compton in the Marshes? The same Suzie who had as a teenager delighted the congregation of All Saints church with her singing? Her father and the congregation would suffer a group seizure where Suzie to appear before them now dressed as a sixth form schoolgirl. But the client had been very specific,

“I want an 18-year-old girl to dress up like a naughty schoolgirl”.

In the world of escorting the client is always right so a sixth form schoolgirl is what would be delivered, by taxi to his hotel in 45 minutes or so.

Sitting in the back of the taxi Suzie wondered, as she so often did just how the daughter of an Anglican clergyman had become embroiled in the world of prostitution.

Charlie wasn’t anything like the privately educated men with whom Suzie normally associated. That was what had first attracted Suzie to Charlie.

“OK darling cars fine now. She’ll go like a dream”.

“Thank you. How much do I owe?”

“Well darling it should be £400 but if you go for a drink with me lets call it £250” he had said with a smile.

Suzie wasn’t used to being called darling but there was something slightly dashing and perhaps a little dangerous about Charlie which sent a tingle down her spine. What did her friend Amanda call men like Charlie? “a bit of rough”. Well if Mandy could have her “bit of rough” why shouldn’t she have her fun also. God those boys from the local congregation where wet behind the ears, she needed a real man.

“OK that would be lovely” she had replied.

That evening she had met Charlie in the Hare and Hounds. They had got very drunk and ended up having sex in the back of his car while parked up in a country lane.

“I wanna see you again babe, show you the bright lights of the smoke. You’re something special babe. Really straight up, no bull shit, you’re amazing”.

Suzie had lapped up the compliments as a thirsty man drinks water on reaching a well in the desert. None of the men she had met through the church made her feel that thrill of excitement. She was, Suzie thought in love with a real man.

Soon afterwards they had moved to London. Of course her parents had hit the roof. Not only was Suzie “living in sin” but she had chosen to do so with a man who, in the view of her parents was her social inferior.

“A mechanic, you are throwing yourself away. You could do so much better” her mother had said.

As is so often the case the objections of Suzie’s parents only served to drive their daughter further into the arms of her lover.

“Hypocrites, that is what you are. The church preaches equality but you tell me that Charlie isn’t good enough just because he grew up on a council estate and he doesn’t speak with a plumby accent. You make me sick” Suzie had said as she left the vicarage banging the door behind her.

In London things haden’t gone well. Charlie had found a job as a mechanic but soon lost it due to his heavy drinking. He found another but lost that also for the same reason. After having lost 4 jobs in quick succession word spread through the grapevine that anyone thinking of employing Charlie Johnston as a mechanic should think again. Offers of employment dried up leaving the couple dependent on the meagre income which Suzie’s work as a cleaner brought in.

“Do you love me Suz?”

“Of course I do Charlie” Suzie had said kissing her boyfriend on the lips.

“Suz where up shit creek without a paddle. I can’t see any way out of it unless …”

“Unless what darling?”

“Forget it”.

“Forget what Charlie?”

“Suz you know I love you” Charlie said putting his arms around Suzie.

“Yes sweetheart and I love you to, I’d do anything for you”.

“Suz there was this ad in the paper”, Charlie paused.

“Ad?”

“Forget it Suz, it isn’t a good idea”.

“Forget what?”

“Would you really do anything for me?”

“You know I would”.

“Suz a company’s looking for girls to keep men company”.

“No Charlie, you are having a laugh aren’t you? Please tell me that you are having a laugh. I’ll do anything but that!”

“Suz it’s just company, nothing dodgy I rang up and asked”.

“You did what?!” Suzie exclaimed.

“OK forget it. I thought you loved me but obviously you don’t give a shit. Just fuck off back to mummy and daddy” Charlie had stormed.

Suzie began to cry,

“I love you Charlie. I’ll do anything but don’t ask me to do that”.

“Stuck up little miss proper won’t do it” Charlie had sneered.

“I can’t. I just can’t”.

“You don’t love me Suz I may as well bugger off” Charlie had said throwing his clothes into a suitcase.

“No my love, please don’t leave me” Suzie had said tears running down her face.

“You don’t love me Suz.

“I do, I’ll do it just please, please stay”.

“Oh babe I love you. Come here” he had said taking Suzie into his arms.

The next evening Suzie had been sent by the agency to see her first punter. The man had, quite naturally expected sex.

“No I’m sorry I can’t do that” Suzie had said.

“Look sweetheart all the girls do it, you are in the wrong fucking job!”

“Can you give me a moment please?”

The man had shrugged. Suzie had walked out into the hallway and called Charlie,

“The man wants sex” she said in a voice shaking with emotion.

“I love you Suz, you know that. I wouldn’t ask you to do this unless things where desperate but please do it for me. I mean do it for us Suz. You know we need the money”.

Suzie had gone back into the bedroom and feeling like a robot had allowed the client to perform on her. Following her first encounter with a client she had, over time  become used to prostituting herself. Suzie clung to the belief that Charlie loved her and that prostitution was merely a temporary interlude before he obtained a job as a mechanic and she could give up escorting. However she was finding it increasingly difficult to believe that Charlie regarded her as anything other than a meal ticket. There relationship was dying. In fact it had died long ago Suzie thought as the taxi moved through the London traffic.

“What would daddy think of me now?” Suzie thought as she pulled her long coat close attempting to hide the school uniform. Prostitution was a sin and her father frequently preached against sexual immorality. She would, according to him be consigned to the flames of hell fire. Such a moral and upstanding member of the community he would die of shame where he to see his little girl now.

The taxi pulled up outside the hotel. Suzie stepped out of the cab, paid the driver and headed for the hotel’s foya. She took the lift to the second floor and as instructed by the agency knocked on room number 22. The door was opened by an elderly gentleman wearing only a bath towel.

“Oh suffering Christ!” he said staggering back into the room. Suzie stood frozen to the spot,

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” she exclaimed.