Lady Dalston Presents : 'Le Monstre Productions

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Monday, 5 September 2011

The Fool and The Whore

The Fool and The Whore by Lady Dalston

A pale young man
In a waistcoat and cap
Wound through the streets of London
By a flimsy hand writ map
He was strictly brought up
Believed the words of the church were true
If only he knew what was coming
O' God if only he knew
'Head to Mrs Warrens'
His friends had declared
But nothing more was revealed
No, nothing more was shared
Suddenly there it was
He could hear ecstasy and din
For there lay Mrs Warrens House
In all its splendour, glory and sin
Corsets and skirts were all he could see
As well as breasts and thighs
He could hear the heavy breathing of men
He could hear their lusty sighs
Out of the door came a beautiful creature
All laced in the right places
Never had he seen such a form
Never seen such a face among faces
Under her eyelashes she looked
At this young man, pale and thin
And her voice floated over to him
'My dear are you coming in?'
His body instantly tightened
He felt  full of indignation
How dare she embarrass him so
With her games of sordid flirtation
'No you whore' he muttered darkly
Instantly regretting that expression
For she was a beautiful creature
Though shamed in Mrs Warrens profession
'What was that young man?'
As if she hadn't heard
'Don't you think to insult me
You simpleton, you nerd!'
'You heard me you tart
I won't follow you inside
Not where its demeaning and degrading
To one's pride'
'You moronic imbecile
You cretin, you jerk
What's it to you
Where I choose to work?
I'm a member of the oldest profession
And yes I do walk the street
But this cat-house young man
Will never be obselete
Oh you can can call it shameful
Sinful and betraying
But what about those men in there
Who for my 'love', they are paying?
So you can call me a tart
Or  a slut or a whore
But our houses of ill-repute
Will always have men at the door!'
The young man hung his head
He didn't know what to say
But then she leant forward and whispered
'Pick me and you won't have to pay!'
'So what do you say?'
She said with a wink
And kissed him hard
Before he could think
He ran behind her
Hunting her up the stairs
Forgetting all in his mind
His beliefs and his cares
They didn't sleep a wink
Filled with joy and delight
By morning they were exhausted
For he'd shagged her all night
Together they lay
He rested on her chest
But as he woke up
She was ready and dressed
'Farewell young man' she said
As she tightened a lace
Then she stopped and giggled
At the horror on his face
'Oh you silly young moron
You love me now don't you?
Well come back with some money
And then I'll love you too'
She put on her gloves and hat
And she swept out the the door
And the fool comforted his broken heart
Betrayed by the whore

Thursday, 1 September 2011

The Guardians of The Drug Eaters by Lady Dalston (Chapter 1)

The Guardians of the Drug Eaters
Chapter 1

Everything requires something...or someone to function.  Whether that is oxygen, water, petrol, ink, life-support, religion, soil or heroin.  Some are merely part of your biological makeup, others are self inflicted and some are just the cards Lady Luck dealt you.

Within the world of the affectionately named Drug-Eaters everything requires something or indeed someone to function.  Mary Jane needs attention to grow and flourish.  Charlie needs someone to find his friends, old and new.  The brown horse needs a faithful friend with a life to share.  A grower, a supplier, a distributor, a buyer, a seller, an opposition, a researcher, an experimenter, an old hand, a regular crowd, a testifier, a worrier and a Guardian.

A Guardian.  Whose role it is not to say no to drugs, not to scorn, not to taunt and not to condone.  It is simply to be present, to protect those who are most precious to them.  To watch over and protect.  Like a child exploring on a beach, they are invincible and almighty under a watchful eye.  If they start to stray too far they can be called out to.  If they get lost and scared they can be comforted, kissed and held.  If they discover something amazing and incredible they have someone to tell , who will be thrilled for them. That is the Guardian. Not always because they understand why the story is so amazing but because they love the lit up eyes and the passion telling of an unforgettable journey, and they cherish every moment as much as the one telling the story.

It is not the Guardians job to go on these journeys but to be where the journey leaves from and returns to.  During the  journey itself a gentle eye takes in every dilated pupil, deep breath, smile and word.  A Guardian cannot help but take in every detail.

Imagine the chaos if all the Guardians gave up their posts and ventured with the Drug-Eaters!  In fact maybe they would be incapable, at first, of letting go and giving into the enjoyment?  Who would look after them?  They have seen it go awry too many times to go into the Drug-eater playground without apprehension.

The Guardians rarely journey with those they are with and when they do it is to get a better understanding of the experiences they have heard.  Someone has to be able to get water, a cold flannel,  blow out a candle, feed the munchies, wipe the need;e, wipe the credit card, wipe the sick off a face, find the way home, hold the hair back, reason with the unreasonable and wait patiently and happily at the end of each high with a smile for the safe return.

 The mothers are not trying to deny or admit what they do not understand.  The fathers are not proud or indifferent.  The friends cannot help them and they do not want to lose them.  This Guardian is not writing to explain, excuse or condemn.
So if you have an open mind, read on and listen to what I have to say...Welcome to the Drug Eater Lands.