The Friday Poetry Thread

Its Friday today, whatever happened to Tarby?
Who cares because tomorrow its the premier Devon Derby.
Old Carl rallies his troops by telling them they are wank,
Thats unless ATD'S Robbie plays, and he's built like a tank.

The trolls still try to access ATD, its such a pity,
That these fuckwitts can't just stay on pasoti.
Its Andy's Birthday today let's raise a toast,
Especially from pasoti's finest, the cowardly Ghost.

Its a cracking day, the sun shines on Devon's delight,
Better than Exeter, Torbay and the other northern shit.
Plymouth or guz, is the place to be,
Except parts of Swilly that smell of wee.

Broke the sprocket on my saw,
left it lying on the floor,
last load of wood in the shed,
back is fooked I'm nearly dead,
beat the Gulls and cheer me up,
Friday night and some beer to sup,
off on the boat come sun up.

That piece of prose sums up rural idyll in a way that Thomas Hardy never could, I should really stop being selfish and publish my rhymes.

Caught some mackerel in 21,*
Plenty there but all so small,
Ate a few and gave the rest,
To my lovely sister, I was her guest.




*No21 anchorage south of the Breakwater.

The trolls and hackers are gunning for us,
We show them contempt and scorn,
The spamming emails have caused great offence,
Guess we all don't dig animal porn...

The Emperor calls,
His troops they all muster,
But all they can manage,
Is bullshit and bluster.

An Ode to Knecht

Knecht is an honourable young chap with the heart of a big, cuddly bear.
If dreams weren't dreams and dreams came true, I wouldn't be here I'd be with you. Distance is one thing that keeps us apart - but knecht, you will always remain in my heart.
He’s a good man. So smart and serene. Always keeps his word
And always says what he means. He’s never selfish or boastful, knecht. knecht.

knecht.

i read this this week and liked it

Is it true, (the lie),
That the city’s ‘health’ is measured by
“The number of cranes in the sky”.

Because i think it is measured by
how long it takes
For someone to come, when you cry.

A Spooner
A Deepthroater
A Windsor boy too
They all lead to one man
But can you guess who?

Oh to be in Plymouth,
Now that Autumn nears,
The sound of falling leaves,
The rustling of big gay bears.

Off to Barnet for some footy,
can the youg'uns do their duty?
Davids shades hide his fear,
Fletches tactics may make him cheer,
Come on Argyle, lets win and make my year!

I am trying very hard to be upbeat.

Mock, you are a fine young man,
You fill my life with laughter.
I'd write in the same vein to you, my fan,
But I don't know what you're after.

You've pledged to me your love, I know.
You're both a charmer and a looker.
I'd write in the same vein to you, my beau
But I'm afraid you really are a (bloody word censor).

One thing that will cause us not to part,
Then to you I'd give myself dearly.
I'd write the same thing to you, my heart
If the secret was just twixt you and me.

But sadly there's one thing I must say -
And I don't want this to alarm you.
That if our team were to win tomorrow with joy I would be filled
And happier and more surprised than your verse made me, to speak true.

I forgot about this thread
It was dead and gone.
And I can't rhyme anything anyway
Oh well

And on they travel our star crossed lovers
Castor and Pollux
Knecht and Mock
How on earth did we get to Snakes and Chadders

Written in the spirit of the sky
green heart or greenbaum ?
As you cook my tea, listen to my plea
Remember Mariner and Rafferty
Your flag worries me
are you just another tart of the green armee ?

The Penz is back, His quill is loaded,
But will his targets get the jibes?
Can the bears be goaded?

Found it at last!
This thread was dying
So I've brought it back
(Mock - you're buying)

Savile's gone,
But not forgotten,
Mock's still here,
His gags are rotten.

Two poems, two mentions,
why do I deserve?
My rhymes still flowing
with vigour and verve

It's colder today, than it was last week
The loo seat far colder, my sit down more meek

Rovrum tomorrow,
send them back to the mill!
Robbie the man,
That left foot my thrill

Tony's upset he's up a Derbyshire Hill,
With his sleuth's coat and signed picture of Savile.
He wrote to Vivian and Tudor about an awful website,
They each told him to feck off, the boring shite.

The grizzly bear looked one heck of a sight,
As he scowled in his cave at the end of the night,
He had lost all his sweets in a bet with a vet,
Who carried off the toffees in a butterfly net.

For those who like cricket - a shameless plug
Waqar Younis poetry - if you catch the bug!

[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

Quote :

Yes, the pitches are flat,

They are slow,

But you have to learn.

We learned it too.

I am going to the zoo tomorrow
zoo tomorrow
zoo tomorrow
I am going to the zoo tomorrow
I can stay all day

I'm going to the zoo, zoo, zoo
Don't care about you, you, you
You can't come too, too, too
I'm going to the zoo. zoo, zoo

See the elephant with the long trunk swingin’
Great big ears and a long trunk swingin’
Snuffin’ up peanuts with a long trunk swingin’
And I can stay all day

And so on

You ok Peggy? just asking like

Shit that's more royalties we have to pay!

It's ok, Knecht - I think I changed just enough of the words.

Fine thanks, Highwayman.

First week on the job,
A corn on the cob
Finally over
with a bit of clover
get into me gob.

That's me gob, not THE gob.