This is the Message Centre for Jabberwock
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Jul 9, 2009
early morning sunshine delight
i'm glad the rain grey days have cleared
of milk and honey this day belongs
not cold and salty tears
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Jul 9, 2009
with poetry breakfast belongs
refreshing cups of tea
good news from friends above the throng
safe paths for all to see
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 9, 2009
Geeks with long beaks eat garlic sauteed leeks,
that make them go squeak.
As they learn how to speak both modern and ancient Greek,
so as to be excepted in the chic clique.
And to open shops that are sell anitques and are also boutiques.
Making them the most unusal and very unique,
gaining admiration and praise from the style critique.
Which helps their physique as they learn their new dance technique,
to give publicity to their new venture when they open every day of the week.
BAD POETRY
Nancy the dragon Posted Jul 10, 2009
I eat pickled spices on an onyx tray,
Making up verses as I go.
A breeze comes in with the scents of the day,
And brown rats nibble on my toe.
I think of Heathcliff in his faroff land.
He fights for freedom, beauty, truth.
Compared to him, my life is painfully bland,
Reminder of my awful mispent youth.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 11, 2009
Brad was glad when her heard about the new fad,
about the new fashion of graduates wearing plaid.
Whirling around in their tartan skirts, trying not to look sad.
As they try to show their new employers that they are not mad.
And that when they go on a job, they'll be ready to repair the rads.
Visiting various households who live in very up-market pads.
BAD POETRY
Nancy the dragon Posted Jul 12, 2009
Cute fluffy puppies and small yellow chicks.
Rich chocolate cakes you can make from a mix.
Devilled ham spread on a slice of white bread.
Life has great pleasures, but then you go dead.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 12, 2009
I new a member of the Tennessee bourgeoisie,
who slept in beds filled with potpourri.
With great wealth spent on daily shopping sprees,
where they bought the most expensive of teas.
This filled them with unending glee.
drinking tea with slices of the best organic brie.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 13, 2009
I rock around the clock,
with my pet croc.
Who gave me a shock,
when he tried to become a shock jock.
By selling the best and worst schlock,
and forming a pop group called the Glock Flock.
As they throw rocks outside the riverside docks.
And then finished off with a very long walk,
to see the doc who sells very old stocks of chalk.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 15, 2009
Get Bet to put on a bet to pay her debt.
Said Brett as he chased his fleeting silhouette.
Then submit Yvette to knit a whole line of new mits.
So as to help pay off Bet's debt and for the new kit.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Jul 15, 2009
roasted leg of lamb does not compare
a treetrunk chunk of cooked beef cannot come close
a hank of ham, smoked gammon not spam, is ordinary
a whole chicken on a spit, doesnt do it-hungry with dry lips am i
i am a pilgrim in search of the simple life
and with a hot mug of tea i my hand
and a slab of fresh cut bread on a plate
spread with fresh butter
and with homemade jam
preserved for this happy occasion
or a thin layer of cheese
and some homemade fruit chutney
i have lost all control
of my slavvering lips
i wipe my mouth dry
and make the kettle
an offer it cant refuse
BAD POETRY
Fluffy Pink Rabbit. (Remember that polyester has feelings, too) Posted Jul 15, 2009
Ever since I crashed my car,
My mind has wandered wide and far,
And now (alas) I always tend
Toward sentences that never end,
As if prolonging my poor life,
bereft of fortune, home and wife,
Across the whole wide world to seek
The answers to my questions bleak,
Such as
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 16, 2009
I have met aliens who are episcopalians,
and are called Balian and Dalian.
And they are a type of mammalian,
and are part of the species Raphalian.
They read a lot and their favourite author is Tolkien,
and have seen all of the Lord of the Rings films when they visited Fengtien.
And they always visit their relatives in Ireland, the O'Briens,
who are also aliens who speak in Fukien.
Who are all fans of Deep Space Nine and their favourite character is Julien.
And have been to all their conventions organised by Damian the Nigerien)
who is also a Doctor Who fan and is also a Parisian.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 17, 2009
Life is so boring, especially after I have been snoring.
Which is caused by my noisy neighbours who are always warring.
As they go exploring their flooring with angry outpouring.
Shouting and fighting as they violently become offensive with their loud roaring.
With all my strenght, I knock on the walls and stamp my feet, which they keep ignoring.
No matter how much I find it deploring, I keep wanting to go on with plenty of goring.
But the neighbours would love if I joined in with them clamouring to go out to the mooring.
Where they get there by motoring in their jeep which is strengthened with armoring.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Jul 17, 2009
i have a bazooka -shiney new
i have big bombs for it too
this is the sight - where you sight
this is the trigger, you gently squeeze
this is how you load a bomb with ease
pull a funny face when you have fired
or your brain will be sucked out
-by the vacuum of escaping gas
then smile and put the kettle on
in silence enjoy a cuppa - lifes a gas!!!!
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 18, 2009
I said hello to Arnie when he was in a middle of a barney.
Offered him a sarnie but all he wanted was to have a fight with Varney.
As he was angry about missing the chance of a holiday in Gavarnie,
when they were competing in face pulling competition held at The Gurney.
But it had to be decided by the decision of an attorney,
who was very tired from being on a very long journey.
His name was Bernie and had just been taking part in a tourney,
who had lost to a man called Phoney Tony Maloney.
(Said to the music of Just Dance whilst chewing some gum)
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 19, 2009
I went to Bolognia for to visit the mythical town of Fredonia,
where I smelt ammonia coming out of the greenery of the allionia.
This made feel very vunerable when everything around me disappeared.
And all remained was a nine foot man and he looked very weird,
as he had a 11 foot long beard which he volunteered to have it sheared.
A barber appeared and took his shears as he sheared the revered beard.
This made the alien very happy and he and his colleagues all cheered.
Then the other aliens took some mud to smother their faces,
to vanish all their facial lines which they did with great ease.
I was part of their plan to take part in the space race,
to find the location of a magical vase that emitted brass braces.
But I said I could not as I was already late to go and visit my Aunt Grace,
So I said goodbye and told them if they came tomorrow,
I would have their much need brass braces covered with Chantley lace.
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 20, 2009
It was a blow when I did not find any gold at the bottom of the rainbow.
So I decided to row, row, row and row until I arrived at the plateau.
My boat that was sed only on dry land and was kept up a tree's bough.
Along with my friend the talking crow that gave a welcoming hello.
Whenever he saw me and my cat, his would go aglow as he started to bellow.
This startled me and my cat who both began to meow and shouted apropos.
Which startled the crow and all he could say to us was quid pro quo.
So we all sat down to come to an agreement that we will all go with the flow.
And to always talking clearly and promise to make bread out of fresh dough.
That we will do this and a bit more, this we will do and will humbly avow.
BAD POETRY
myk Posted Jul 20, 2009
and we all live happily ever after
with someone to love and us look after
the laugh lines become more defined
as do the saggy bits round our eyes which grow kind
BAD POETRY
Reality Manipulator Posted Jul 23, 2009
There was a shining bright kite that took fright,
whenever it saw a sprite covered in blight.
Which happened only in the darkness of the night,
as the spright took flight at the thought of it's plight.
It was a very strange type of blight, it was made of cheese,
that tasted like peas which was also favoured amongst the honey bees.
Key: Complain about this post
BAD POETRY
- 3121: myk (Jul 9, 2009)
- 3122: myk (Jul 9, 2009)
- 3123: Reality Manipulator (Jul 9, 2009)
- 3124: Nancy the dragon (Jul 10, 2009)
- 3125: Reality Manipulator (Jul 11, 2009)
- 3126: Nancy the dragon (Jul 12, 2009)
- 3127: Reality Manipulator (Jul 12, 2009)
- 3128: Reality Manipulator (Jul 13, 2009)
- 3129: Reality Manipulator (Jul 15, 2009)
- 3130: myk (Jul 15, 2009)
- 3131: Fluffy Pink Rabbit. (Remember that polyester has feelings, too) (Jul 15, 2009)
- 3132: Reality Manipulator (Jul 16, 2009)
- 3133: Reality Manipulator (Jul 17, 2009)
- 3134: myk (Jul 17, 2009)
- 3135: Reality Manipulator (Jul 18, 2009)
- 3136: Reality Manipulator (Jul 19, 2009)
- 3137: myk (Jul 19, 2009)
- 3138: Reality Manipulator (Jul 20, 2009)
- 3139: myk (Jul 20, 2009)
- 3140: Reality Manipulator (Jul 23, 2009)
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