Poetry corner

The Shoddy Monster – by Chesney Flatiron

monster

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

Oh! For the love of beards! – By Drunkle Spiderbite

stubble

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


Poetry corner

Framley wants a goose – By Hilary Insertcoin

Furious Goose

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

The Lonely Cardigan – by Joanna Diskettes

Cardie mourning

Better times

As I cling to this cold stair rail,
Alone but never mardy,
I contemplate my lifetime,
As your favourite Cardie

Was it that I didn’t fit right?
Not protect you from the chill?
Do I now offend your sight?
That was not my woolly will

A happier time from this – my worst,
From charity shop you bought me,
And though you weren’t by far my first,
You’re now my one and only

My fate it now seems signed and sealed,
A lifetime lost in limbo,
Come back my saviour I will plead,
All sweaters are just bimbos


Poetry corner

The mighty oak – by Judy Juxtapositions

a lovely lovely oak

I wood…

I threw my hand down hard,
Upon it’s gnarly bark,
It bit back with a shard,
A splinter like a shark

I’m desperate by now to see,
Its rings, its roots and fungi,
And difficult it is for me,
To fall for just any one tree.

Its filthy leaves and taunting trunk,
Beckoning like an oaky hunk,
Some think I should know better by now,
Oh those dirty-minded boughs.

To those that damn me – if they could,
Be out alone and spanking wood,
Their minds would change within a flash,
To come across a nice young Ash

Oh those waving hungry boughs…


Poetry corner

Trolley Folly – by Humphrey Grottle

trolley on the beach

Even on the beach, I’ll be watching you…

Seconded by unanimous motion,
The trolley caused a depth of emotion,
Remembering’s of campsites, Valium and toast,
That teddy that Julie had liked the most.

Grabbing the carton,
Feel like a Spartan!
Twixt the fingers,
Find the beast

Trolleys shouldn’t cause these thoughts,
Like shoes on impulse hastily bought,
Dumplings cook gently while the dog looks on,
But in her mind the trolley still shone.

Grasping the Inuit,
Feel like a bis-cu-it!
Minus the soft bit,
Flush out the brush.

‘Get out!’ cried Julie ‘I’ve had my fill!’
The trolley trundled towards the ghostly till,
Imagine a Kit-Kat coming for dinner,
The trolley still going and clearly the winner

Holding the wash-mitt,
Feeling like a twit,
She doesn’t give a monkeys,
Julie jogs on…

 

Bis-cu-it? Really? Well, more poetry again soon dear reader!


Poetry corner

Some goats are just a bit like that – by Hoff Bettersmudge

Well, it's clearly a goat

Billy’s rendition of Horace Vandergelder in Hello Dolly! was very well received…

It’s funny to think that long ago,
Goats were oft’ in Broadway shows,
It didn’t matter that far back,
Some goats are just a bit like that

They often hung around backstage,
After their latest sell-out play,
For drinks and nibbles and having the craic,
Some goats are just a bit like that

Often they would tread the boards,
To delight their most admiring hoards,
Until the stage lights fade to black,
Some goats are just a bit like that

Critics said debauched behaviour,
Was not something for one to savour,
Their fans stood up and answered back,
Some goats just aren’t a bit like that

 

Well, another post involving goats – how original. Next we’ll be mentioning a particular supermarket far too often or something… More poetry soon, no doubt.