Poetry corner
Posted: 23/01/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: apples, fruit, grapes, motorbikes, PM Dawn, rhubarb 1 CommentDay of the triploids – By Henrietta B Pencil
‘Don’t touch that! It’s evil!’
It’s grapes I’ve never trusted,
Though I’ve often tried,
The old ones bitter and crusted,
The young with furtive lies
Now I come to think of it,
Satsumas are such yobs,
Spouting pith as they see fit,
The orange underdogs
The humble apple boasts some form,
Not a stranger to a tiff,
For signed CDs of PM Dawn,
It would sell its Granny Smith,
Rhubarb’s known for starting fights,
And stealing motorbikes,
I hope that they get banged to rights,
The TWOKing little tykes
‘We’re good for you’ you’ll hear them say,
Just show them to the door,
They may be one of five a day,
But they’re rotten to the core
Poetry rectangle, or poetry corner if you prefer
Posted: 16/01/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: naughty otters, otters being bad 12 CommentsShapely Otter Thighs
By Panda McGuigan
Barry is an otter with a cheeky roving eye,
He’s often down the riverbank checking out a shapely otter thigh
Heaven knows what poor Margaret his long suffering wife,
Thinks of all his lusty acts, it must dominate her life
He’s never really home these days, and ignores his otterlets
I just hope when he’s older this is something he never regrets
To be fair though, the DNA tests were inconclusive
And Margaret herself in her youth was not exactly exclusive
She’d raise her tail to any beefy otter suitor,
Give her a fish head and she’d let you root and toot her
Often behind the bins where the stream it does divide
Otters would cue up for a go and come from far and wide
Things didn’t change when she met our hero Barry
She even flirted with the otter vicar on the day she was supposed to marry
So I guess Barry’s behaviour we can exonerate
As he’s out swimming in his hunky trunks looking for another mate
The pair of them really are awful, the lowest of the low
Perhaps they need to sort it out on the otter Jeremy Kyle show
Poetry corner
Posted: 28/11/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: flan, jam, more flan, odd, poetry, Stan Leave a commentFlan was bought – by Wendy Bendy
Stan’s flan. No Jam.
I haven’t seen him,
Said the man,
The man,
That bought flan,
Not for weeks,
Said he who speaks,
For weeks,
He repeats
Tried the gym?
Said him,
Keeping trim?
Not like him
Flan was bought,
Without thought,
Special flan,
Bought by man
Flan with jam,
Made by Stan,
How convenient
That rhymes
I don’t like the man-bought flan,
I will not eat it Stan flan man
Poetry in the corner. Poetry corner then really….
Posted: 26/11/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: buffet ideas this christmas, limericks Leave a commentBengal
By Whiskas McGhee
There was a young man from Bengal
Who didn’t really get Limericks at all
Buffet belly
By Sainsburys O’Keefe
Oh my goodness I don’t half love a buffet
I could stay for hours and just scoff all day
From pickley pork pies to cheese and onion rings
A buffet must be one of my favourite things
I drool as I stare out over the table
Everything’s lovely and very digestible
Cheese and pineapple on sticks are so tasty
But they can be sharp so not good for health and safety
I once consumed a whole red onion
My tummy afterwards was a bit of a funny’un
That’s the only real downside I can make out
It turns my insides over of that there’s no doubt
They are great at Christmas perhaps after tobogganing
But too much of the good stuff and I’m back in the bog-again
Scotch eggs are the worst they go straight through me
Once I ate 47 in under an hour, and wolfed a load of Caerphilly
I swigged down the lager and ate a whole gammon
I downed 18 pies my bot was like a horrid brown cannon
My head was spinning and it was all a bit surreal
But blimey it wasn’t half a cracking funeral
Poetry corner
Posted: 25/10/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: Frankenstein, funny, halloween, monster, poetry, shoddy, strange 3 CommentsThe Shoddy Monster – by Chesney Flatiron
Terrible workmanship
He had never seen a nose,
Look quite as strange as that,
A question to him it did pose,
A thinking under hat
Now he looked the ears were poor,
The eyes were not all there,
Feet that shouldn’t touch the floor,
And hands that were not paired
The more he looked the more he found,
The faults the fizgog featured,
The torso it was far too round,
A funny looking creature
Because the stitching was so rough,
This time he’d save the lightning,
Formaldehyde’s expensive stuff,
The next beast would be frightening
Poetry corner…. because you’re worth it
Posted: 11/10/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: bees, foxes, I've lost my cardigan no wait there it is Leave a commentBees
By Arbuthnot Turbo
Bees, Bees, Bees
Are quite blind did you know?
I do experiments on them see, put them all in a row
I’ve made a little sign out of wood and chalk, didn’t cost much money
In tiny writing I’ve scrawled ‘Over here if you want free honey’
I then asked them to move that way if they were able
But not one bee, not one! responded
In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn’t have nailed them all to the table
My life is a rollercoaster
By Sue Pernoodle
Foxes, Foxes, Foxes
Foxes, Foxes, Foxes, Foxes, Foxes, Foxes
Foxes
My life is a rollercoaster,
Foxes, Foxes, Foxes
Foxes?
Foxes!
Poetry corner
Posted: 30/09/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: beards, fluff, funny, goatee, hair, poetry Leave a commentOh! For the love of beards! – By Drunkle Spiderbite
A whisker away from greatness.
Have you ever seen a man,
Look better minus beard,
A bearded man he has a plan,
A smooth-faced man be feared
Designer stubble just won’t cut,
Trimmed goatee is just fraud,
With great big beards the case is shut,
With mono-brow for awe
See that fluff upon your lip,
It could make you a martyr,
But when you shave here is a tip,
You look a deal less smarter
So leave it be whilst walking tall,
Forget about the itching,
For when the writing’s on the wall
A beard won’t stand for bitching
Yet more poetry. In a corner
Posted: 20/09/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: bertie, lager Leave a commentBertie McNulty
by Hewlett Packard
Gosh Bertie McNulty is such a wheeze,
He’s great with the ladies and at climbing trees,
He always wears lovely trousers and a nice shirt,
His hair is quite brown and his buttocks are pert,
He’s great on the dancefloor and is quite the wild rover,
He can drink lots of lager without falling over,
He’s super at football and cricket I’ve heard too,
Last week he smashed an unbeaten 102,
He can grow a moustache in an afternoon,
Holidays in the south of France for the whole of June,
Oh Bertie McNulty those ladies don’t stand a chance,
You melt their hearts with just one glance,
Oh he’s really good at board games as well like Kerplunk,
In Australia they would say ‘crikey, what a spunk’
He’s happy to lend me whatever I want,
He’s better at maths than Norman Lamont,
He’s terribly nice to his mum I’ve been told,
Never says she’s wrinkly or is looking too old,
He’s so good with the ladies with all his chatter,
Think it’s his muscles and flirty patter,
Oh Bertie those ladies, their hearts will never mend,
You really are the bestest ever imaginary friend.
Poetry corner
Posted: 19/09/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: amusing, birthday, funny, geese, goose, poetry, Waterfowl Leave a commentFramley wants a goose – By Hilary Insertcoin
A great companion for any young lad.
Framley such a nice young boy,
Received a multitude of toys,
Upon his birthday – why so sad?
What troubles this upstanding lad?
When asked just what the problem was,
He told them that it was because,
A waterfowl was more required,
A feathered friend was most desired
“I told you mum
And you too dad,
I just love geese,
It’s not a fad!”
“The other gifts are nice and all,
I love the prostitute and ball,
But I implore I am so fond,
The thought of geese upon our pond”
His loving parents racked with guilt,
Had also purchased him a quilt,
But what was used to stuff this gift?
Their answer back was not too swift
Poetry corner
Posted: 13/09/2013 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: marjorie, runner beans Leave a commentOh Marjorie!
By Godfrey Whipplesticks
I’m so in love with Marjorie Whim,
She looks so proper, upstanding and prim.
But underneath that restrained exterior,
I reckon she’d enjoy a whack on her posterior,
Perhaps with a rolled up copy of The Sun
Or something heavier like the Times, what fun!
But despite my yearnings for the fragrant Marge
My fears that she’ll eschew me just loom large.
I stare at her wistfully across the office canteen,
As she stoops to pick up a floored runner bean
Most of us surely would grunt and grumble,
Having to bend so low and fumble,
Along the floor to find that errant vegetable,
But graceful Marjorie is just so able.
It’s more of a swoop than anything I guess,
It’s amazing to watch I must confess,
A shapely bend of the knee towards the floor
My heart is racing, oh my god, phwoooar!
Oh crikey but now Marjorie has spotted me,
Now I am in trouble I had better be,
On my best behaviour, not be so keen
But oh look whoops I’ve dropped another bean
Just to see Marjorie bend again in the canteen
I can’t help myself but I really must be cagier
Cos now I’m in trouble with my line manager
monkeybroth 