The weather is still so horrid
The kinda weather to make potes florid
But do versifiers rave about stew?
Noo, noo, noo, noo, noo, noo, noo, noo, noo
Category: Bad Poetry
I’ll bet you it is NOT Rumpy- Pumpy
The EU has been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, an award somewhat tarnished by the previous recipients. Herman is here disclaiming his latest poetic masterpiece to his fellow conspirators.
A political caption is called for, perhaps in verse.
Yuletide poetry competition – 19th December 2012
Oz is right. Why wait a whole month when most cherished poets sally forth with their offerings within a couple of weeks? And nobody is going to versify after 19th December anyway; with all that huntin’, shootin’, fishin’, cookin’, shoppin’ and suppin’ to take care of, until twelfth night at the earliest.
Continue reading “Yuletide poetry competition – 19th December 2012”
November Poetry Competition Winner.
Thank you for your participation in the November competition, you know who you are
I enjoyed the various takes on our fireworks theme, the entries are here.
The usual suspects one might say but always some new views of an old story, and why not indeed.
One from FEEG to start us off
Then three not quite in a row from Janus (prolific as always)
Soutie tucked one in between
OZ with an early entry (for him at least)
And a last minute entry from TR (without help)
Some Guy giving it laldy
The republicans were having a party
With cake ‘n things like that
They were drunk on the black stuff
And making jokes about Mick and Pat
Goodwill to all men and terrorists
Was toasted round the fireside
Tourettes Tony said “I don’t give a Farc!”
Before he was thrown outside Continue reading “Some Guy giving it laldy”
Guy Fawkes Innocent – New Evidence
Government records disclosed after a four hundred year embargo prove that Fawkes was innocent of any wrongdoing. He was in the cellars conducting an audit of tally sticks which showed that members of parliament had been abusing their prerequisites.
Yet another modern GF
Ode to a sparkler
O slender wand, what pleasure looms
As Dad ignites your bulbous head!
That burst of light and hiss that comes
With flying sparks so quickly dead.
We practice chants and magic spells –
Abracadabra. Let’s play swords!
‘Til ‘one of us’, my sister tells,
Is writing all the rudest words.
And then, you’re gone. It’s dark once more.
Just wiry junk left on the floor.
An effigy
Who’ll sit atop your bonfire this eve?
The current trend would you believe
Is someone famous, an effigy
A simple guy is, oh so passé
Celebrities and politicians
Royalty or sports officials
Dead or alive, it matters not
Light the fire, with them on top
But who to choose I hear you ask
Its really not an onerous task
A kiddie fiddler ought to do
Jimmy Saville or one of the other two
Another modern GF – a November pome
My teacher says Guy was a terrorist – and
The Government practised rendition back then.
Is it true that this is a protestantfest?
No. (And please don’t breathe the smoke, dear.)
My mate and his dad made this really cool Guy,
To burn at the stake on November the fifth.
So can we have one of our own next year?
No. (And please don’t breathe the smoke, dear.)
‘A modern GF’ – a November pome
My name is Fookes, Guy Fookes, the spook. 
Yes, Doubl’-O-K, so spell it right!
Licensed to kill, I am, and look!
I’m all tooled up and fit to fight.
You’ll want to know who runs my show.
A British ‘M’? A Euro-cell?
The Mossad? CIA? Er, no.
Thing is, I actually don’t know. Continue reading “‘A modern GF’ – a November pome”
Boadicea's Chariot 
You must be logged in to post a comment.