Silverfish - Hello Poetry

We are the "Crustys" "Ditch dwellers" "Water pikeys" "River gypsy's" "Linear scum" We live in our narrowboats Widebeams, yogurt pots Dutch barges, old lifeboats And many a converted punt Our life is on the waterways Our no 1 rule; "don't be a cunt" The weathy moor among the poor In an eccentric eclectic line Bright paintwork shines bright Next to the mossy The in-betweeners The projects and down and out's Around us all, our beloved cut Filled with fluffy ducklings just now Leading to diffrent villages Diffrent locals Diffrent towns

0

Apr 22

Apr 22, 2026 at 5:05 AM UTC

The Crustys

We are the "Crustys" "Ditch dwellers" "Water pikeys" "River gypsy's" "Linear scum" We live in our narrowboats Widebeams, yogurt pots Dutch barges, old lifeboats And many a converted punt Our life is on the waterways Our no 1 rule; "don't be a cunt" The weathy moor among the poor In an eccentric eclectic line Bright paintwork shines bright Next to the mossy The in-betweeners The projects and down and out's Around us all, our beloved cut Filled with fluffy ducklings just now Leading to diffrent villages Diffrent locals Diffrent towns

22

There's a horse chestnut tree growing in a drain in the street Growing with vigour New spring leaves Dwarfed by it's containment It peeps through the iornwork It has a life It lives and breathes "Not for long" I thought. Soon someone will rip out the thing Sitting so close to the old town hall, Roots meeting the foundation "It shal end in a bin!" But..... Perhaps, if society should fall? Should it crumble around us And A generation drops the ball Then conkers shall litter the ruins Of Trowbridge's old town hall.

0

Mar 31

Mar 31, 2026 at 7:12 AM UTC

A tree

There's a horse chestnut tree growing in a drain in the street Growing with vigour New spring leaves Dwarfed by it's containment It peeps through the iornwork It has a life It lives and breathes "Not for long" I thought. Soon someone will rip out the thing Sitting so close to the old town hall, Roots meeting the foundation "It shal end in a bin!" But..... Perhaps, if society should fall? Should it crumble around us And A generation drops the ball Then conkers shall litter the ruins Of Trowbridge's old town hall.

18

I was bitterness and gripe My ****** was shouting about beef The need to feed As i stomped in my PMT I saw the sad yellow icon No more red in this world No colour nowadays Only grey cars Silver cars White cars And black ones Silent on the streets ****** bleak I miss sugar, engine noise Good music and TV "Fuck em" i was thinking Alex was right "They are deserving silly rabbits UK goverment do wot you like!" And i was fumbling for my voucher Cos im skint like most of us are Ive deleted the ******* email The young feller zipped to the bar "Ah ive lost the Mac voucher man" He says it's fine and types in the deal A smile of genuine goodness On his freshly shaven face Can't be more than 18 And entering this ******* farce Melted my frozen tundra Rabbits poking through the thaw Warm wiskery faces Sweet little paws

0

Jan 9

Jan 9, 2026 at 4:37 PM UTC

Louis at Macdonalds

I was bitterness and gripe My ****** was shouting about beef The need to feed As i stomped in my PMT I saw the sad yellow icon No more red in this world No colour nowadays Only grey cars Silver cars White cars And black ones Silent on the streets ****** bleak I miss sugar, engine noise Good music and TV "Fuck em" i was thinking Alex was right "They are deserving silly rabbits UK goverment do wot you like!" And i was fumbling for my voucher Cos im skint like most of us are Ive deleted the ******* email The young feller zipped to the bar "Ah ive lost the Mac voucher man" He says it's fine and types in the deal A smile of genuine goodness On his freshly shaven face Can't be more than 18 And entering this ******* farce Melted my frozen tundra Rabbits poking through the thaw Warm wiskery faces Sweet little paws

33

I made a wreath In the dark of Christmas day At 7pm Almost too late I hung it on a shoestring Beside my peeling paint Breath pluming around me A stalled choo choo train I stood back and admired it Simple ivy woven with care Added some stolen holly Illegally prepared "A quiet declaration of hope" May the evils that once dogged me Be prickled by this snare

0

Dec 30, 2025

Dec 30, 2025 at 3:39 AM UTC

Wreath

I made a wreath In the dark of Christmas day At 7pm Almost too late I hung it on a shoestring Beside my peeling paint Breath pluming around me A stalled choo choo train I stood back and admired it Simple ivy woven with care Added some stolen holly Illegally prepared "A quiet declaration of hope" May the evils that once dogged me Be prickled by this snare

15

Hope is a snare Waiting to choke Hope is a stay order In a room full of smoke Hope is waiting In a silent prayer Hope is placating Until nothing is there Hope steadies the hand Holds you back Unravels plans Hope is a poison And I'll drink it no more It has left me now And closed the door

0

Dec 21, 2025

Dec 21, 2025 at 2:19 AM UTC

Hope

Hope is a snare Waiting to choke Hope is a stay order In a room full of smoke Hope is waiting In a silent prayer Hope is placating Until nothing is there Hope steadies the hand Holds you back Unravels plans Hope is a poison And I'll drink it no more It has left me now And closed the door

15

There's a special kinda hell That's being built for you Every brick It is built on sick And suckerd into bile I can't pull you out You're holding on with a smile The grim puddle swallows us all A churning yet gentle draw I've tasted so much yellow foam Snotted, slobbered, begged & moaned. But nothing more now sits within Only a boaking rancid thing You sit in the front room and we grin The kettles on the Turnocks are in But the offering is oversweet It tastes like nausea And smells like feet A candy-covered slimy gack If I swallow another drop I won't get back

0

Aug 31, 2025

Aug 31, 2025 at 2:36 PM UTC

Sick

There's a special kinda hell That's being built for you Every brick It is built on sick And suckerd into bile I can't pull you out You're holding on with a smile The grim puddle swallows us all A churning yet gentle draw I've tasted so much yellow foam Snotted, slobbered, begged & moaned. But nothing more now sits within Only a boaking rancid thing You sit in the front room and we grin The kettles on the Turnocks are in But the offering is oversweet It tastes like nausea And smells like feet A candy-covered slimy gack If I swallow another drop I won't get back

21

Manipulation is a maggot That will rot through your soul Leaving your morality Full of tiny holes

0

Aug 30, 2025

Aug 30, 2025 at 2:14 AM UTC

Manipulation

Manipulation is a maggot That will rot through your soul Leaving your morality Full of tiny holes

4

I saw the green army Streaming down from the stadium They were beautiful moving almost for a moment together Marching in union Under cheap green polyester shirts They have a buzz about them We all looked at it from the bus We could feel the swell of it Enticing and excited They have been chanting together Winning and losing Feeling each other's joy and pain The bus pulls off into the traffic flow As the procession whips out of sight

0

Aug 23, 2025

Aug 23, 2025 at 1:02 PM UTC

Green army

I saw the green army Streaming down from the stadium They were beautiful moving almost for a moment together Marching in union Under cheap green polyester shirts They have a buzz about them We all looked at it from the bus We could feel the swell of it Enticing and excited They have been chanting together Winning and losing Feeling each other's joy and pain The bus pulls off into the traffic flow As the procession whips out of sight

15

Is it a ***** pidgeon? Or an angelic dove? As the old man bears down on the white sharp glare in the sun Indifferent is he And in the same way so is she A male is twirling nearby She ignores him as she weaves through Ignorant to all but the trajectory of the million pedestrian feet Eyes fixated on a Barnecutt pasty crumb The little pink feet give chase She gobbles down the golden crumbs And roves on out of my view in the golden sun

0

May 9, 2025

May 9, 2025 at 7:39 AM UTC

Flying rats

Is it a ***** pidgeon? Or an angelic dove? As the old man bears down on the white sharp glare in the sun Indifferent is he And in the same way so is she A male is twirling nearby She ignores him as she weaves through Ignorant to all but the trajectory of the million pedestrian feet Eyes fixated on a Barnecutt pasty crumb The little pink feet give chase She gobbles down the golden crumbs And roves on out of my view in the golden sun

12

I hear them before I see them And each year I stop all activity To turn and watch They give me the V For Victory Honking away the winter grip Thawing back his fingers Until old Jack slips Soon there will be warmth The smell of suncream Just mown lawns and barbecues The last bud will then have to bust Then their deeds will be done They will take off in song A babble on the breeze heading south And I will eagerly listen for them In the forever of next years frost

0

Mar 26, 2025

Mar 26, 2025 at 2:54 AM UTC

The Honkers

I hear them before I see them And each year I stop all activity To turn and watch They give me the V For Victory Honking away the winter grip Thawing back his fingers Until old Jack slips Soon there will be warmth The smell of suncream Just mown lawns and barbecues The last bud will then have to bust Then their deeds will be done They will take off in song A babble on the breeze heading south And I will eagerly listen for them In the forever of next years frost

17