Poetry

[Alan Sex]

[lifetime fan]

There was an old Lady from Leeds,

Who swallowed six packets of seeds,

Within the hour, her tits were in flower,

And her arse was covered in weeds.

[lifetime fan]

This is the tale of Daniel Morgan, Who had a tiny sexual organ

This gave the girls a sudden shock, When they beheld his tiny cock

He laboured hard to find a cure, And polished it with fish manure

He tied it up with bits of string, But still it was a poor wee thing

 

Just one inch long when fully reared, And lying down it disappeared

'Twas just by chance they called Danny, A half inch less they'd have called him Fanny

 

One day Dan read in his daily mail, That things called falsies were on sale

For women who had tiny breasts, They wore these things inside their vests

 

And then went out in latest fashion, To satisfy men's latest passion

Our Danny said I am a fool: Why can't they make a big false tool

 

He worked all day upon his chopper, And ended up a great big whopper

Twelve inches long and made of plastic, To stretch a fanny like elastic

 

It really was a lovely job, Upon the end a great red knob

Dan tied it with bits of twine, It really did look rather fine

 

Lying there beneath his pants, It looked just like an elephant's

It was a perfect plastic penis, All set to capture Dan a Venus

 

Girls all flocked around with glee, To see his bulge stretch to his knee

No other fellow stood a chance, When Dan went to the local dance

 

When girls were dancing around with Danny, His tool kept tickling around their fanny

The girls began to faint and swoon, As Danny waltzed them around the room

 

But what a shock Dan had in store, For one night dancing round the floor

Danny stopped and loudly cursed, He felt his strings and strapping burst

 

Before he reached the nearest seat, His tool was dangling at his feet

His partner said with a nervous cough, "Excuse me, but your cock's fell off"

 

He couldn't face the scene thereafter, The wisecracks and scornful laughter

All these girls that Dan had dated, In tears to see his cock deflated

 

A girl named Sylvia made Dan sick, As she gave his tool a spiteful kick

Poor Danny screamed around the hall, For the string was tied around one of his balls

 

As he staggered to the door, He dragged his cock along the floor

The band by now was almost crackers, As Dan went off to bathe his knackers

 

So if you are like Daniel Morgan, And have a tiny sexual organ

Remember though it's only wee, It's always good enough to pee

[zigackly]

I don't really do it any more, but here's a little one:

 

The mind,

in solution,

is blind:

dissolution

in front

and illusion

behind.

[Faustus]

Been reading a bit of Yeats lately:

 

THE SECOND COMING

 

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

 

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

 

I love that "the falcon cannot hear the falconer" line.

[Guest James D]

Roll the Dice

by Charles Bukowski

 

if you’re going to try, go all the

way.

otherwise, don’t even start.

 

if you’re going to try, go all the

way. this could mean losing girlfriends,

wives, relatives, jobs and

maybe your mind.

 

go all the way.

it could mean not eating for 3 or

4 days.

it could mean freezing on a

park bench.

it could mean jail,

it could mean derision,

mockery,

isolation.

isolation is the gift,

all the others are a test of your

endurance, of

how much you really want to

do it.

and you’ll do it

despite rejection and the

worst odds

and it will be better than

anything else

you can imagine.

 

if you’re going to try,

go all the way.

there is no other feeling like

that.

you will be alone with the

gods

and the nights will flame with

fire.

 

do it, do it, do it.

do it.

 

all the way

all the way.

you will ride life straight to

perfect laughter,

it’s the only good fight

there is.

[Sugar Ape]

I like this one, think someone off here ( maybe John B? ) had it as his signature at one time.

 

I lately lost a preposition

It hid, I thought, beneath my chair

And angrily I cried, “Perdition!

Up from out of in under there.”

 

Correctness is my vade mecum,

And straggling phrases I abhor,

And yet I wondered, “What should he come

Up from out of in under for?”

 

Morris Bishop, New Yorker, 1947

[AngryOfTuebrook]

You, Me and P. B. Shelley

What is life? Life is stepping down a step or sitting in a chair.

And it isn’t there.

Life is not having been told that the man has just waxed the floor.

Life is pulling doors marked PUSH and pushing doors marked PULL and not

noticing notices which say PLEASE USE OTHER DOOR.

It is when you diagnose a sore throat as an unprepared geography lesson

and send your child weeping to school only to be returned an hour

later covered with spots that are indubitable genuine.

Life is a concert with a trombone soloist filling in for Yehudi Menuhin.

But, were it not for frustration and humiliation

I suppose the human race would get ideas above its station.

Somebody once described Shelley as a beautiful and ineffective angel

beating his luminous wings against the void in vain.

Which is certainly describing with might and main.

But probably means that we are all brothers under our pelts.

And that Shelley went around pulling doors marked PUSH and pushing doors

marked PULL just like everybody else.

- Ogden Nash -

[The Flâneur]

I can heartily recommend, Birthday Letters, by Ted Hughes. A bit of secondary reading offof wiki or somewhere would give you at least a flavour of its narrative; probably the twentieth century's most famous poetic relationship.

It was his final collection, and as such is very aggressive, bitter and profoundly sad.

 

The Tender Place

 

Your temples, where the hair crowded in,

Were the tender place. Once to check

I dropped a file across the electrodes

Of a twelve-volt battery - it exploded

Like a grenade. Somebody wired you up.

Somebody pushed the lever. They crashed.

The thunderbolt into your skull.

In their bleached coats, with blenched faces,

They hovered again

To see how you were, in your straps.

Whether your teeth were still whole.

The hand on the calibrated lever

Again feeling nothing

Except feeling nothing pushed to feel

Some squirm of sensation. Terror

Was the cloud of you

Waiting for these lightnings, I saw

An oak limb sheared at a bang.

You your Daddy´s leg. How many seizures

Did you suffer this god to grab you

By the roots of the hair? The reports

Escaped back into clouds. What went up

Vaporized? Where lightning rods wept copper

And the nerve threw off its skin

Like a burning child

Scampering out of the bomb-flash. They dropped you

A rigid bit of wire

Across the Boston City grid. The lights

In the Senate House dipped

As your voice dived inwards

Right through the bolt-hole basement.

Came up, years later,

Over-exposed, like and X-ray-

Brain-map still dark-patched

With the scorched-earth scars

Of your retreat. And your words,

Faces reversed from the light,

Holding in their entrails.

[Remmie]

The Triceratops rap

 

By Lil' Rem aged 9:

 

 

I decided to make it a rap as I was inspired by John B*rnes.

 

Horrific spelling.

[AngryOfTuebrook]

National Poetry Day.

 

If that's not an excuse to re-read Shelley's "Mask of Anarchy" then watching the news probably is.

[VladimirIlyich]

'I wandered lonely as a cloud' was the one on my English literature paper. I liked the war poets of the first world war,Seighfried Sassoon,Wilfred Owen,Rupert Brooke...and of course the great Baldrick and 'Boom.' Not sure of the verses to Boom though!

[Lee909]

I think it ends with Boom

[VladimirIlyich]

I think it ends with Boom

And starts and finishes too.

[AngryOfTuebrook]

National Poetry Day.

 

If that's not an excuse to re-read Shelley's "Mask of Anarchy" then watching the news probably is.

http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/Classic%20Poems/Shelley/the_mask_of_anarchy.htm

[AngryOfTuebrook]

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939).  

To a Child dancing in the Wind 

 

I
DANCE there upon the shore;

What need have you to care  

For wind or water’s roar?  

And tumble out your hair  

That the salt drops have wet;

Being young you have not known  

The fool’s triumph, nor yet  

Love lost as soon as won,  

Nor the best labourer dead  

And all the sheaves to bind.  

What need have you to dread  

The monstrous crying of wind?    

 

II
Has no one said those daring  

Kind eyes should be more learn’d?  

Or warned you how despairing   

The moths are when they are burned,  

I could have warned you,

but you are young,  

So we speak a different tongue.     

O you will take whatever’s offered  

And dream that all the world’s a friend,  

Suffer as your mother suffered,  

Be as broken in the end.  

But I am old and you are young,  

And I speak a barbarous tongue.  
 

[Paulie Dangerously]

I was just walking about on my lunch then when a poem I wrote in University came back to me and I thought I'd share it.  It works best as a spoken word piece tbh

 

The faces of racists disgust and disgrace us

Fear is the basis of violent embraces,

The right wing start shooting and hating and raking the souls of the damned,

Damned 'cause they're different, it cases big rifts in,

The social condition of ignorant pissheads,

Who think that it's right, 

There's not better than white,

It's a terrible plight,

For a people whose right is to live. 

[VladimirIlyich]

I was just walking about on my lunch then when a poem I wrote in University came back to me and I thought I'd share it. It works best as a spoken word piece tbh

 

The faces of racists disgust and disgrace us

Fear is the basis of violent embraces,

The right wing start shooting and hating and raking the souls of the damned,

Damned 'cause they're different, it cases big rifts in,

The social condition of ignorant pissheads,

Who think that it's right,

There's not better than white,

It's a terrible plight,

For a people whose right is to live.

You should write rap songs.

[Babb'sBurstNad]

Got a poetry question right on University Challenge last night that the boffins didn't know.

 

Still basking in smugness.

[Paul]

I was just walking about on my lunch then when a poem I wrote in University came back to me and I thought I'd share it. It works best as a spoken word piece tbh

 

The faces of racists disgust and disgrace us

Fear is the basis of violent embraces,

The right wing start shooting and hating and raking the souls of the damned,

Damned 'cause they're different, it cases big rifts in,

The social condition of ignorant pissheads,

Who think that it's right,

There's not better than white,

It's a terrible plight,

For a people whose right is to live.

Spit some bars, yo.

[Paul]

You should write rap songs.

Ha! Great minds.

[Paul]

I never read poetry for pleasure but I love teaching it more than anything else we have to cover. It’s fucking boss and the kids absolutely buzz off it.

[AngryOfTuebrook]

Got a poetry question right on University Challenge last night that the boffins didn't know.

 

Still basking in smugness.

What was it?

 

(Put the answer in NSFW tags.)

[thegreatelephant]

Line em up one by one
All in line jackpot time
They operate the coin

Pinstripes in disrepute
For stealing loot

Their no lose gamble

Pick the cherry
Out of control mercenary
Global financial optical illusion

Pressing buttons
Diminishing returns

Systematic cheating

One aim bandits
What punishment fits?

Endless winning streak prevention

Cancel the collect
Initialize banking system reject

Capital city the arcade of deception

All bells and whistles
Insider fiddles

Nudge Nudge wink wink

Offshore havens and dubious legislation

[Chip Butty]

Tick Tock

Albert Dock

Very expensive

Designer sock