In this poetry game,
said Oscar Tame,
I think I'm a talented child,
but he was beaten to fame
by a fluke of a name
belonging to Oscar Wilde.
Saturday, 17 November 2012
Friday, 16 November 2012
CHIPPY
One potato,
two potatoes,
three potatoes,
four,
five potatoes,
six potatoes,
seven potatoes,
more.....
I peel 'em,
I wash 'em,
'til my brain turns dippy,
another long night
in the kitchen of the chippy.
Why do I do it,
when I'm a miserable sod?
Well I see it as my calling,
for the love of cod.
two potatoes,
three potatoes,
four,
five potatoes,
six potatoes,
seven potatoes,
more.....
I peel 'em,
I wash 'em,
'til my brain turns dippy,
another long night
in the kitchen of the chippy.
Why do I do it,
when I'm a miserable sod?
Well I see it as my calling,
for the love of cod.
Thursday, 15 November 2012
WHY DO POLITICIANS......
Why do politicians
feel the urge to show they're tough,
during a term of office,
when they exceed their huff and puff?
They sometimes take the notion
to give their swords a rattle,
as they find some rhyme and reason
to take us into battle.
Perhaps they want a portrait
of themselves in General's kit
to show how bold and brave they were
when they bombed some place to shit.
They have the gift of oratory,
they can make a lie sound true,
they can make a case for warfare
on behalf of me and you.
Why don't politicians admit,
with mea culpa honesty,
that while they can walk from office,
the dead have no such luxury?
feel the urge to show they're tough,
during a term of office,
when they exceed their huff and puff?
They sometimes take the notion
to give their swords a rattle,
as they find some rhyme and reason
to take us into battle.
Perhaps they want a portrait
of themselves in General's kit
to show how bold and brave they were
when they bombed some place to shit.
They have the gift of oratory,
they can make a lie sound true,
they can make a case for warfare
on behalf of me and you.
Why don't politicians admit,
with mea culpa honesty,
that while they can walk from office,
the dead have no such luxury?
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
BATH WATER
Well, you see,
it was like this,
it was a busy time,
not enough hours
in the day,
only two hands,
mind all over the place.....
you see,
I threw out the bath water
and then couldn't find the baby.....
you don't think,
cough, splutter,
perhaps,
maybe...........
it was like this,
it was a busy time,
not enough hours
in the day,
only two hands,
mind all over the place.....
you see,
I threw out the bath water
and then couldn't find the baby.....
you don't think,
cough, splutter,
perhaps,
maybe...........
Monday, 12 November 2012
TRAPEZE
In the olden days,
if we were ticked off,
we would run away
to join a circus,
well not me,
homebody,
comfy sofa,
hot dinner,
goodnight hug,
me at home,
much more at ease
than feeling homesick
on a trapeze.
if we were ticked off,
we would run away
to join a circus,
well not me,
homebody,
comfy sofa,
hot dinner,
goodnight hug,
me at home,
much more at ease
than feeling homesick
on a trapeze.
Sunday, 11 November 2012
MOST VIEWED POSTS 7 DAYS TO 10.11.12
Here are the links to the most viewed posts on this blog in the past 7 days - just click to read:
Saturday, 10 November 2012
SKYFALL - THE POPCORN MENACE
We were watching Skyfall, latest James Bond,
in the comfort of our new picture house,
when the person behind us started to annoy
eating popcorn like a fidgety mouse.
Scritching and scratching, rustling and munching,
especially in the quietish bits,
as the film progressed my hackles were raised,
this guy was getting on my tits.
I hadn't the guts to tell him to ssssshhhh
but had a thought during a rather loud gulp,
if only James Bond would leap from the screen
to beat this irritating git to a pulp.
But double-o-seven was busy enough,
juggling wit and love and stunt,
too busy to help me in my hour of need
to deal with this.....(now I'm struggling to find the right rhyme to end this.......!)
in the comfort of our new picture house,
when the person behind us started to annoy
eating popcorn like a fidgety mouse.
Scritching and scratching, rustling and munching,
especially in the quietish bits,
as the film progressed my hackles were raised,
this guy was getting on my tits.
I hadn't the guts to tell him to ssssshhhh
but had a thought during a rather loud gulp,
if only James Bond would leap from the screen
to beat this irritating git to a pulp.
But double-o-seven was busy enough,
juggling wit and love and stunt,
too busy to help me in my hour of need
to deal with this.....(now I'm struggling to find the right rhyme to end this.......!)
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