I am very bored.
My eyes are now sore.
On my desk is a cord,
Not sure what it's for.

I should now be working,
But my coffee has gone.
I shouldn't be shirking,
For the day must go on.

I am pressing my keys,
I am moving my mouse,
This comes with some ease,
But won't pay for my house.

I must now start my work,
I must now get me going,
I must not be a berk,
So code can start flowing.

But now I have written,
This daft little rhyme,
And I must say sorry,
For wasting both of our time.

Finger** up nose to pick it.
Finger on thumb to flick it.
Eyes on the telly for cricket.

Let's be honest, let's be clear,
In fact let's drink another beer.
I really cannot stand my job,
So please get me right out of here.

Let's be honest, let's be clear,
There's someone that I hate when near,
I know it's bad; he is my boss,
But I don't give a friggin' toss.

Let's be honest, let's be clear,
Were I allowed to punch his ear,
I would do it with so much power,
He'd hear ringing for an hour.

Let's be honest, let's be clear,
The little *** must live in fear,
I'm not lonely with my feelings,
He's had others biting ceilings.

There was a young lady called ****,
Who let rip an enormous great ****,
  The might of the roar,
  Broke down her front door,
And proudly she said, "That's a start".

She bent down and gathered herself,
Two hands holding onto a shelf,
  She was eager to please,
  She locked out her knees,
And thought, I don't wish to use stealth."  

She lined up her powerful bot,
For another most frightening shot,
  Stripped the fur from a mouse,
  And demolished a house,
Which effort had made her quite hot.

She only had one more inside,
The power to make herself glide,
  She bit down with her tooth,
  And leapt from her roof,
Ten miles she flew, with some pride.

I'm updating my old P.S.P.
In the morning it's after half three.
   Can't believe I'm awake,
   Tomorrow head break,
Please throw me from very tall tree.

Pakistani Mohammad Aamer,
Much too young to buy his own beer,
   But his bowling is ace,
   He got in Ponting's face,
Other batsmen are living in fear.

Pakistani Afridi is mad,
Though he is not inherently bad,
   But he did chew a ball,
   Which about says it all,
But watching him play makes me glad.

Look, Shahid Afridi is crazy,
Even though he appears quite lazy,
   He wants to be strong,
   But it turns out all wrong,
It's because his brain is all hazy.

I know little of Umar Amin,
My knowledge of him is too thin,
  Does he bat left or right,
  Will he give Oz a fright,
Or meekly get out once he's in?

Then Umar Akmal will stride out,
He's tiny but he gives it some clout,
   An average of fifty,
   Looks pretty **** nifty,
From behind him, the crowd they will shout.

The weather is nice,
  but I am no fool.
So she spiked my rice
  and I jumped in the pool.

Yes I did pay the price
  and I lost all my cool.
Next time I'll think twice,
  as that's my new rule.

Since I still appreciate you,
Let's find love while we may.
Because I know I'll hate you
When you are old and grey.

So say you love me here and now,
I'll make the most of that.
Say you love and trust me,
For I know you'll disgust me
When you're old and getting fat.

An awful debility,
A lessened utility,
A loss of mobility
Is a strong possibility.
In all probability
I'll lose my virility
And you your fertility
And desirability,
And this liability
Of total sterility
Will lead to hostility
And a sense of futility,
So let's act with agility
While we still have facility,
For we'll soon reach senility
And lose the ability.

Your teeth will start to go, dear,
Your waist will start to spread.
In twenty years or so, dear,
I'll wish that you were dead.

I'll never love you then at all
The way I do today.
So please remember,
When I leave in December,
I told you so in May.

I am such a Poetry Philistine,
It is no good unless I make it rhyme.
But that can take quite a lot of time,
When I get it wrong I will whinge and whine.

Now this one has made me very unhappy.
In my head it was good, written down it is ******.

John Isner and Mahut,
Whatever did you do?
I don't know who to sue.

Oh Isner and Mahut,
Much taller Isner grew,
Mahut, he dived and flew.

John Isner and Mahut,
I'll rhyme until I'm blue,
To honour both of you.

Oh Isner and Mahut,
Not even time to pooh?
I can't believe it's true.

John Isner and Mahut,
Aces firing through,
I don't know what to do.

Oh Isner and Mahut,
The chances, they were few,
Like in game ninety-two.

John Isner and Mahut,
Grit shown through and through,
My hat is off to you.

Mahut and Isner John,
What the hell is going on?
**I love Wimbledon.

There was a young lady called Gristle,
Who once cleaned her *** with a thistle,
  It did not work well,
  And left quite a smell,
Which left her alone under mistle -
toe.

I'm an idiot, idi-fool,
Idiot, idiot, idi-tool,
  Idiot, idi-lump,
  Idiot, idi-chump,
Idiot, idiot, most uncool.

I'm an idiot, idi-goon,
Idiot, idiot, idi-loon,
  Idiot, idi-berk,
  Idiot, idi-****,
Idiot, idiot; a buffoon.

I'm an idiot, idi-plum,
Idiot, idiot, and so dumb,
  Idiot, idi-pratt,
  Idiot, getting fat,
Idiot, idiot, feeling glum.

Gatt wishes he'd never been born,
Says his brain is the size of a prawn,
  You know the old spinner,
  But he ain't much thinner,
That ****** Aussie is Shame Warne.

He can bowl a big turning ripper,
Then fool you with his quick flipper,
  While he comments on sky,
  And eats one more steak pie,
Before you're done up like a kipper.

Even with the bat he's not bad,
Drives the opposition quite mad,
  He could captain them too,
  More than Ponting's IQ,
But he's gone and us Poms are just glad.

You must pay attention now please,
What I want is a full flavoured cheese.
  It will not make me fat,
  I will not believe that,
It will help all the joints in my knees.

Stroke my coat it is fluffy and sleek,
Do it well, and my knees will go weak,
  Gently rubbing my spine,
  Makes me feel so divine,
So much so, I could let out a squeak.

You have learnt how to treat every cat,
Be sure that you endeavour such that,
  That cat will be grateful,
  At every new plateful;
No more gifts will be left on your mat.

It was good to have Lumb in the side,
South African birthright aside!
  Though we must be fair,
  Shane Warne got him there,
He smashed all the bowlers with pride.

Our bowlers used plenty of thought,
Even Broad who often dropped short,
  He did it with style,
  And showed us his guile,
And everything hit up was well caught.

The Aussies expected to chin us,
They didn't think we had it within us
  In that final meeting
  We gave them a beating.
England the T-20 Winners.

We made them look like beginners,
Or old forgotten dog's dinners,
  The Aussies got thrashed,
  Their bowling was smashed.
*England are T-20 winners!

Last night I had an unusual dream,
But not the type that would make you scream.

I dreamt I was eaten by a large dog beast,
It must have thought me part of a feast.

From inside its mouth I had a friend on my shoulder
He was clever and helpful, and I felt bolder.

He told me to avoid the sphincter muscles,
Should I wish to emerge with minimum tussles.

Instruction said that the safest way through
Was to be forced out while inside a pooh.

After kicking my way out of the crusty ****,
I woke up and thought that was ****** absurd.

Klusener could whack it, yes Lance,
To spinners, down wicket, he'd dance,   
   No defensive tricks, 
   He smote them for six,
The same for the quicks without prance.

Sometimes he could bowl pretty quick,
Sometimes the batsmen he'd trick. 
  Gave balance to the side, 
  Served country with pride,
All without ever being a *****.

His best score V England, remember?
Our bowlers he got to dismember. 
  Zulu hit it so high 
  Way up into the sky,
It didn't come down 'til November.

The Tigers were sent in to bat,
Could England make the most of that?
    Tamim was put down,
    Sidebottom did frown,
Then he bowled much too short, the pratt.

One hundred did Tamim then make,
When needed, he applied the brake,
    But the rest of his side,
    Though I'm sure that they tried,
Come on guys, stay in for Pete's sake!

When batting, my England weren't great,
The Tigers gave the match on a plate.
    The catches they muffed them,
    And the keeper he stuffed them.
Shape up Tigers, before it's loo late!

Oi Modi you ******, yes Lalit,
Unpleasant to taste on my pallet.
   Arrogant and so brash.
  You make threats with your cash,
Your face should say 'Hi' to my mallet!

But Modi is right I must say.
The IPL in India should stay.
  They cannot just give in
 To all terrorist's whim.
Life has to go on, come what may.

Lalit K has a tongue and a brain,
Can he use both without causing such pain?
  He works best under stress,
 Well here is a fine mess,
Will he anger again, or refrain?

Tendulkar did something today.
Two hundred runs all in one day!
  Majestic and cunning.
  It simply was stunning.
No bowler could stand in his way.

How Sachin keeps on being humble,
Is enough to make braver men crumble,
  If Modi learned that,
  He'd be less of a pratt,
And my poetry jibes would then stumble.

These two things that happened together,
Were both better than English weather,
  In the passing of time
  One event will decline,
The other, remembered forever.

One thing that get's me all venty
Is bad talk of jolly 'T' 20.
  It's much better by half
  So much more of a laugh
Because 50 is far more than plenty.

England play Pakistan later.
I think that our players are greater.
  But Gul bowls great yorkers,
  And other rip-snoters,
And the ball, oh Afridi, he ate her!

For England the openers are wrong
Neither will give it a biff or a ****.
  We need someone tough
  And aggressive enough
To win it for us when on song.

Our bowling is coming on nicely
The spinners are landing it precisely
  But the quicks can get hit
  When missing length by a bit
Shouldn't do it like that more than twicely

Will we win it today, well who knows?
By then I'll stop blowing my nose.
  I'm now on my knees,
  So a close contest please.
I cannot wait to see how it goes.

Cricket Ladies now pull up their socks
From the Sub-Continent to the Spring Boks
  But a question of mine,
  Not of length nor of line,
I wonder, do they require a box?

Some say that I need to take a pill
But I've watched and the ladies have skill
  They get many things right
  And their bowling is tight
And of cricket I just can't get my fill.

For now England are right out on top
All Australians would like that to stop
  If they get much better
  My pants will get wetter
Being British, I'm scared we will flop.

But England, to India, must fly
Where the pitches will be ever so dry
  Not won there before,
  Not sure, did we draw?
Beware Goswami, for she is quite spry.

Holly Colvin the new queen of spin
She does not know quite how to give in
  The Taylors are great
  The fielding, first rate
Come on girls, you know you can win!

The day was for England to look solid
  South Africa were happy to play slow
It turned out that England wanted squalid
  Opposition gave us nowhere to go

Andrew Strauss was done in by a shooter
  Jonny Trotted past a full one today
Collingwood survived ***** past his ******
  Ian Bell gave us most cause for dismay

Now Kevin played nicely for a while
  But Colly got out to leave us in fear
Prior left us too soon for a smile
  So for Broad and Swann the plan was clear

Jimmy hit them for the SIX of the game
But for glory Graeme Swann was the name

Will I go INSANE,
If I try yet AGAIN,
  as England FAIL,
  with batting FRAIL,
I just hate Dale STEYN.

Dale bowled ever so well,
I wish he'd go to hell,
  I want to punch his face,
  but we are the disgrace,
It's left me with a bad smell.

A bright lad called Alistair Cook
Did enjoy the occasional book,
     He went out to bat,
     NO - don't play at that,
They did him; line, sinker and hook.

On him I'd bet my whole house,
More like a lion than a mouse,
     He bats with aplomb,
     Both dainty and strong,
It can only be Andrew Strauss.

From the pavilion did Jonathan Trott,
Nervous and anxious he is not,
     He'll be there for a while,
     All England will smile,
And South Africa know he is hot.

Next in is the feisty KP,
His batting, the top of the tree,
     Sixes so great,
     They should be worth eight,
Now just stay IN for a hundred or three!

A chap from ooop north who is good,
Goes by the name of Paul Collingwood,
     Gritty and tough,
     We just can't get enough,
Fight as hard as him, we all should.

No more will the fear he smell,
He's been down to the gym as well,
     His batting is slick,
     Number six does the trick,
The crowd cheers for Ian Bell.

Swinging his bat, it's Matt Prior,
Born with iron grit, steel and fire,
     If he holds each catch,
     We'll win the match,
And his ranking will go much higher.

Our spinner is next, Mr Swann,
His bowling is coming on strong,
     His batting is great,
     Which the opposition hate,
Not to pick him much sooner was wrong.

Our tall quickie is young Stuart Broad,
His bat is a rapier like sword,
     He can oft' bowl too short,
     Yet the batters get caught,
And Of wicket-taking we never are bored.

James Anderson is our king of swing,
Late movement his favourite thing,
     Please bowl nice and full,
     Offer nothing to pull,
And just hear those stumps go 'ping'.

Graeme Onions comes in at long last,
Cannot bat but, he can bowl fast,
     He makes them play,
     While others may stray,
Durham long-hops a thing of the past.

That chap we'd all forgotten
You know, with temper rotten
  Full of fire and flair
  Masses of curly hair
It's furious Ryan Sidebottom.

Graeme Smith is great
If you want someone to hate
  There was a nick
  the lying *****
His presense again does grate

That man has no **** SKILL
And him I'd like to ****
  His ears not SHARPER
  ****** Darly HARPER
I know I need a PILL

So now we have captain Cook
OK, he might be worth a look
  But Andrew Strauss
  Back in his house
To my very core I am shook

In the test team new names do pop
With Carberry right at the top
  All rounders not thin
  With Tredwell for spin
And Wright giving a biff and a bop

Shahzard is there for swing
Of reverse he can be king
  And if Prior gets vexed
  Steve Davies comes next
Pardon me if start to sing.

Onto the **** One-Day side
This I simply cannot abide
  Or believe what I read
  Cook is now made to lead
At table bottom we will reside.

Some say it should go burn in hell
That the money leaves a really bad smell
  But hit and giggle
  Or **** and piddle
It's here to stay the IPL.

From countries far and wide
Come players with heaps of pride
  But if they fail
  You'll hear them wail
For there is not anywhere to hide

The cheques books come out
The auctioneers will shout
  Some Players get bought
  Some others get naught
The IPL now has such clout

The turn-styles are all in clamour
The Batsmen are using the hammer
  They go for the big six
  Bowlers try their new tricks
So cricket is married to glamour

Should cricket become this glam
When the ball is met with a blam
  hit way in the air
  didn't see you there
Sorry about that Maam!

Now Smithy was as angry as poo
He said Mickey, "Oi, Listen, must you!
  Come here for a meeting
  It'll be only fleeting
But be there by a quarter to two."

As loud as he dared
With nostrils all flared
  Smith ranted and raved
  Like he was depraved
No wonder Mickey was scared

He began with a deep fierce roar
And huffed like a bear that was sore
  "It's not easy to say
I can't stand things this way
I can't take it like this any more."

Smith blew his red nose on his sleeve
Then said "You must take now your leave
  You've driven me crazy
  No, I'm not being lazy
I need some more me-time to grieve."

"I know that our feelings were strong
I am sorry that you must now be gone
  I'll always love you
  You held my hand in the loo
It's not that you did anything wrong."

Now who should replace him within?
Our choices are looking too thin.
   I do know a man...
  This could be a plan...
A Zimbabwean that has a big chin.

Now the panel has been sacked
The whole system looks cracked
  Who is next their line?
  Graeme Smith would be fine..
The captain has not yet been whacked.

But what more can we say?
Madness now leads the way.
  Since Onions' not out
  South Africa have doubt
'bout all that's 'tween night and the day.

We do not need that silly old race
To see who gets far into space
  We can get more
  Both iron and ore
If we inhabit just one more place.

I laughed and dropped my soft panda
I needed another good gander
  No, I was right!
  It wasn't my sight
Bonnie Scotland thrashed Uganda!

Andy Murray lost in the final
Some said he lacked something spinal
  That ****** Fed
  I don't wish him dead
But I'd stick his head in a ******.

Who bowls without being too speedy?
Who'd bowl 'til his fingers were bleedy?
  For England he should
  But selection no good
Lancashire's leftie, Gary Keedy.

An ode to my beautiful wife
Who is really the love of my life
  In all of our years
  We've had so few tears
I can't even remember much strife

Now truly she doesn't like cricket
Or my nose, should I stupidly pick it
  And the money I spend
  Drives her right round the bend
So my wallet, she's no choice but nick it

Yes, we have two kids and six cats
The latter delieverd two rats
  but the oddest thing
  They decided to bring
To our house were a couple of bats.

We were drinking and watching the telly
When Becksy cat did something smelly
  It happened we saw
  Her *** was rubbbed raw
And she needed pretroleum jelly.

When the time reaches much after nine
Unless we've been into the wine
  It's off to the bed
  For resting of head
Hey that's not your pillow, it's mine.

Our daughters are Issy and Jess
They turn cleanliness into a mess
  Whatever we do
  By quarter past two
We're under some strain and more stress.

We really do love our great daughters
For all of the things that they taught us
  And all of the grind
  Gets left well behind
When a hug is the best gift they brought us

Leicestershire's Alan Mullally
Loved getting a 5 wicket tally
  Landing the seam
  On wickets of green
Would drive the opponents do-lally.

He was tall and he was lean
But he was never really mean
  He kept it tight
  Thru day and night
The best that Leicestershire's seen

One day he scored twenty-four
Pakistan were on the floor
  He hit it miles
  Akram had piles
That just might settle the score.

In the world he reached number two
It was a lovely thing to do
  He bowled so straight
  He moved it late
A great seamer through and through.