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BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Nov 21, 2009
The salad
It's all gone, all the best brawn,
nothing for the salad, not even a prawn.
All Dawn can do is sigh and let out a yawn.
And lie on the lawn looking at the swan.
But in time I found goats cheese,
and some fresh garden peas.
Some honey made from local bees,
could be used for the dressing made with great ease.
Free range chicken and different types of sliced meat.
With various types of pickles to make it complete.
Fresh salad vegetables that include tomatoes,
along with cucumbers, lettuce and new potatoes.
All supplied to me by Dawn who got off the lawn,
went to the shops and eve got a bowful of king prawns.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Nov 22, 2009
The Toast
The toast was tasty made all hasty
with big round eyes and tongue sunrise
now its gone; the way of the unknown sandwich
washed down with coffee and three minutes silence
BAD POETRY
Harrystophanes Posted Nov 23, 2009
[Sorry TThinker, I wrote this before I saw your poem about wandering and clouds an' stuff - honest I did]
SONNET - after Keats (a long time after Keats)
Bright star! Would I were selfish as thou art
And like a shellfish born but to be chewed
As main dish from the sea, not grounded, rough and rude
Or nude, for the sake of pure pre-Raphaelite Art
On days when winter’s chills were in the air
In scruffy London’s dank and freezing fog
When cats got frozen into dogs
And lack of heating froze the naked and the fair
But stop! Enough, enough! The Galaxy
Just needs a hoopy inexpensive electro Guide to lead, from star to star,
Any Hitch-Hiker lost in Zaphod's car
Somewhere around the edge of Trillian’s Fancy -
A new star-cluster, shining like the sea,
Shimmering stardust, just like you and me.
-------------------------------------------------------
(It's better than the original, you surely must agree.)
BAD POETRY
Harrystophanes Posted Nov 24, 2009
Sort-of Sonnet On A Winter Night
In the December evening which seems to follow straight after noon
With too much rain, and heavy winds and gloom
- I wonder where those winter afternoons go
Do they go North to ice and glaciers and snow
Or South to the secret island where
All ballpoint pens go, and odd socks, and bald men's hair
If so, unlike wintry days and summer nights
It must be afternoon there all the time, and it must be a sight
To see the people napping at dinner, nodding away
- they nothing do but nap the live-long day -
Dreaming of who knows what? Of sex and dinners, winter evenings and cold nights,
(About which only travellers can strictly speak aright),
Of different days, strange months and hiding amongst the flowers
From daily chores, from supermarkets, and from working hours?
BAD POETRY
Harrystophanes Posted Nov 25, 2009
Pressed the wrong button. The 'Winter' poem was only a first draft, with mistakes in it. Innit?
Shan't bore you by doin' anythin' 'bout it now. Hope you're safe and warm as you read this. That's more important.
I'm new here.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Nov 27, 2009
When we are training at painting it's always raining,
but we go on without complaining even when it's not entertaining.
Then we start on our English lessons that are so very swish,
as we wish for our lunch to be a dish of the very best fish.
And at maths when we are doing our sums it makes us feel so glum,
but to brighten our mood we have a bowlful of plums soaked in rum.
Which makes us want to bang on our drums as we eat our biscuits making a lot of crumbs.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Nov 28, 2009
to earth from high ballloon
with a bump on a moon
sweet as dried ink of old friends pictures
grief is like a taste of winter wind on tip of tongue
sharp as acid but life focusses on what needs tobe done
the bubble of the window of suprise and oportune thoughts
the blood of industry aan iron robot wrought
while this warm surge courses throught the viens
and the twinkling lights of the sideshow mirages cease to amaze
strike out as a hammer on an anvil warm
set out now while all evil cowers from the storm
in daylight the morning sunshine will reveal
a new life new day new quiet springtime zeal
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Nov 29, 2009
Thank you Harrystophanes for your kind compliments.
The Biz
Otis where is your lotus?
And why are you taking no notice?
So do the biz with the wiz,
then quiz Riz about the bundle of his.
Hip hop with the cops at the local bus stop,
Prop up your mop and swap it for a spinning top.
Then you'll become hip as you swagger your lips,
and then equip yourself with scrips as you skip to the rubbish tip.
But if you want to become extra cool, go and learn how to play pool,
whilst winning money for games you have won so that you can buy the most expensive jewels.
So let your rule be "I am no fool, I a cool dude" and then you'll be able to rule at school.
(Recited in a gangsta style rap)
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Dec 1, 2009
Brother - i tell ya!
Its mennna -- be yellah!
Its a secret family recipe!
Handed from my grandmother t' me!
Now i'll make ya an offer you cannnot refuse!
Vinne will be round -- we know where you live!
Five slices, two dips, deep pan with crinkle chips!
And for you, swell goodfellahs--a free bottle of coke! Capice!?
BAD POETRY
waiting4atickle Posted Dec 3, 2009
Old Moss is a slippery fellow
When the going gets wet underfoot.
As blokes go, I'm really quite mellow,
But he once induced me to bellow
By depositing me on my butt.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Dec 3, 2009
I am MOS!
I get around-astound ;
have abilities unseen -to me -for free;
for breakfast-fortune cookies the bravehearts;
that have been and seen-spilled a bean;
left deftby my,fly why;
folly is despair, dispicable, unstickalbe;
twist, you missed, i defy the decry;
untenable ambition-unatainable;
painfull-is not in my vocabulary, necessary things;
blings, and kings of men and boys;
ahoy ! the goodlife, leave strife;
follow the glittering halo;
like snowtrails - it avails;
the end is sweet-to meet your beginning;
your winning;
just flip that dime, in this plastic coffee cup;
its up: your time;
i wont work tragic , magic--for no recompence;
wont dispense-my sense-good temper;
a dollar, at least a quarter;
would set justice scales aright;
sleep well tonight-its snow on the wind;
i've sinned the unsayable said;
i should get an office job-with a soft bed;
my head-my brain-drain-i quit!
i'm off for a wash and a shave;
who wants this bag of grubby dimes?
BAD POETRY
Harrystophanes Posted Dec 3, 2009
I wanted to say that painfull is not in my vocabulary either, but it's bad manners and bad netiquette to criticise on that sort of picky level especially since I generally make so many trypos meself- and we all make mistakes, so I won't say nuffin.
Loved the poem though,myk
'arry
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Dec 13, 2009
The Day Dreamer
(recited whilst sitting on a garden swing)
You have go me stuck on repeat,
when I listen to a CD eating a sweet.
Then I have the urge to go down Fleet Street,
to go to a meet with Pete who likes to bleat.
Well I don't know how it started,
but we got parted when we went off uncharted.
To explore outer space, a voyage not for the fainthearted.
Before we left we imparted our best wishes and then departed.
But we did meet up again and we both looked up to the sky,
eating french fries as we pretended to be international spies.
Being the good guys that baked their own apple pies,
then with a wry smile we drank a glass of whisky made of rye.
My heart is skipping when I go into the kitchen and go flipping,
making my best pancakes in a pan that is oiled with dripping.
And some goes on the floor and then I go slipping,
as I fall on the floor my jeans go ripping.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Dec 17, 2009
Journeys to strange places including Roneo (Roneo Corner) in Romford
Oh my Antonio where have you put my sony-io?
And why do you keep on taking me to Roneo
And is it to buy the best glass ware of latticinio.
Made by the Italian family owned compnay: the Marcantonio's.
You keep on telling me that you are fainthearted,
and you won't travel to places that are uncharted.
So why is that you have told me you will take me to the river Cree,
for the price of a hefty fee which I'll have to pay for my tea.
So a little bit of heartache and little bit of chocolate flakes.
Make us want to sing silly songs about snakes in the lake who are fake.
So let's break out the cake and even partake in sirloin steak,
or even drink a few chocolate milk shakes that will make us quake.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Dec 17, 2009
a voice inside,
nothing to say
-my vocal chords try
and stay awake
nodding and blinking,
in and out
of a half snooze;
while my brain
thinks
of something
to say.
Hey!? Lets go to Roneo this weekend!?
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Dec 19, 2009
Yes, lets go to Roneo Corner,
where they spend all day doing impersonations of Jack Warner.
Followed by my laughing neigbour who's always been wound up,
as she shouts yup at everytime she sups from her wooden cup.
And is a big fan of Little Boots and plays her cd's every day,
which conveys her bored feelings when she attends soirees.
Key: Complain about this post
BAD POETRY
- 3321: Reality Manipulator (Nov 21, 2009)
- 3322: myk (Nov 22, 2009)
- 3323: Harrystophanes (Nov 23, 2009)
- 3324: Harrystophanes (Nov 24, 2009)
- 3325: Harrystophanes (Nov 25, 2009)
- 3326: Reality Manipulator (Nov 27, 2009)
- 3327: Reality Manipulator (Nov 27, 2009)
- 3328: Harrystophanes (Nov 28, 2009)
- 3329: myk (Nov 28, 2009)
- 3330: Reality Manipulator (Nov 29, 2009)
- 3331: myk (Dec 1, 2009)
- 3332: myk (Dec 1, 2009)
- 3333: waiting4atickle (Dec 3, 2009)
- 3334: myk (Dec 3, 2009)
- 3335: Harrystophanes (Dec 3, 2009)
- 3336: myk (Dec 5, 2009)
- 3337: Reality Manipulator (Dec 13, 2009)
- 3338: Reality Manipulator (Dec 17, 2009)
- 3339: myk (Dec 17, 2009)
- 3340: Reality Manipulator (Dec 19, 2009)
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