Poetry corner
Posted: 15/08/2016 Filed under: Poetry corner, Uncategorized | Tags: coodle, dark, doodle, funny, nonsense, poetry 8 CommentsThe roughage grows dark – by Minty Boffle
The dark doodle
Once it may have been true to a point,
That the roughage was rough and the flample was goint,
But when looked down on it’s true that you see,
The flample was pample and goadingly droit
It once looked quite pretty when viewed in the dark,
The roughage, the pample, hung out in the park,
For sitting on swings and going all weeee,
But the droit came upon them and cut them a’grark
The pample did stample and the roughage did yank,
And across the sandpit the pair they did sank,
To rid them both ever of the nether-seen droit,
They pitched up a coodle and had a stout plank
But the roughage not covered beneath the pitch coodle,
Was exposed to the droit right on to his noodle,
And the pample did peek out a safe word to utter,
But the roughage was lost with it’s memory a doodle
Poetry corner
Posted: 17/10/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: almost funny, love, lunar, moon, nonsence, poetry 1 CommentYou celestial thing you – by Jenny Hatswitch
Such a tease…
Oh moon why is it that,
At evening time you make me swoon,
When you are gibbous it sends me a flutter,
Your colour akin to some slightly off butter.
Your evening display quintessentially lunar,
After which I feel like having a bhuna,
I know that this sounds so strange to you moon,
But that you’re a rock to me is a boon.
So Moon, never leave me here all alone,
I wish for your heavenly body to be shown,
While I’m not quite sure that I’d be suicidal,
I do feel my mood swings are massively tidal.
Poetry corner
Posted: 01/08/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: ears, kidneys, knees, lobes, nonsense, poetry, strange Leave a commentBodily terrors – by Gloria Headtorch
No….NO…..NOOOOOOAAARRRRGHHHH!
There are noses in my dreams,
Snorting and snuffling and tooting and bubbling,
There are noses in my dreams,
The sort of thing that makes sleep so troubling
Knees feature quite prominently too,
Clicking and clacking and knobbly and retching,
Although I’d wish for something new,
It’s knees and not even ones that are fetching
Don’t get me started on the kidneys,
They frighten me most and make waking a pleasure,
They make me sleep-punch my Sidney,
He says that it’s fine and to punch at my leisure
The lobes! The lobes! Oh Christ yes the lobes,
Most often lobes scare me half blind,
And while I’m worrying about them in droves,
Stalking eyelashes sneak from behind
So while my night terrors are full to the brim,
With feelings of dread and foreboding,
Body parts full of most murderous vim,
With arms on the side-lines still goading.
Poetry corner
Posted: 17/06/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: funny, nonsense, poetry, power, spoon, sword Leave a commentThe Soon Spoon – by Hilliard Ever-Soslightly
Precious…..
Oooo wasn’t it a bendy spoon,
It made light and yet made gloom,
It stayed all bendy until noon,
And then became so stiff
With a spoon like that you’d be the boss,
You would never suffer loss,
If you did you’d barely give a toss,
And should you care – you shouldn’t
When stiff it could become a sword,
When bendy makes you feel a Lord,
Your subjects ever overawed,
That spoon could crumble empires
Destroyer of worlds the spoon became,
Sheer power of it never tamed,
And you will never be the same,
Now you are in its thrall.
A weapon beyond the realms of man,
It weighs a tonne and yet a gram,
You borrowed it from your old Nan,
Part of her picnic hamper
Poetry Corner
Posted: 16/05/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: fun, funny, Mildred, poetry, pork pie, quirky, running 1 CommentRacing Mildred – by Norbert Twistgrip
Eye-level view of a post-pie nap.
Mildred was a bandy lass,
The speed that she could cover grass,
School sports days she was never passed,
Over hundred metres
One day she spied a nice pork pie,
Through the corner of her eye,
And truly could no more deny,
She fancied a bit of that
Fast forward on a decade more,
Mildred’s sitting on the floor,
Within her flat that she abhors,
Too heavy now to race
At first she never noticed signs,
The pies had slowed her record times,
Oft’ passed and lagging long behind,
With pork pie-induced stitches
The Commonwealth, Olympic games,
A distant dream with her to blame,
The bakery fed this hall of shame,
A sedentary life for Mildred
Mildred’s is a cautionary story,
If you yearn for running glory,
Avoid pies and you’ll be hunky-dory,
And probably sausage rolls
Poetry corner
Posted: 14/04/2014 Filed under: Poetry corner | Tags: Patrick Duffy, poetry, rags, snake Leave a commentNo chance for David – By Dominic Falafel
Rags plainly borrowed not bought,
Or pressed,
His gusset was so clearly fraught,
Ill dressed
Shirt flailing against waist,
So tatty,
His sense of unpleasant taste,
Ratty
Tie like a broken snake,
Flaccid,
Over shoulder in his wake,
And vapid
Brogues cracked through soles are felt,
Tardy,
His gut restrained by tired belt,
Lardy
David thought this interview,
A shoo-in,
His threads have likely cast askew,
Bobby Ewing
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
