don't want your double glazingfree holiday or phonemy electric bill is finei can't afford a loan don't want a stolen carpeta new supply of gasbetterware or catologuesshove em up your *** brainwashing persistanceadvertisers greedpersuading me and you to buythings we never need

my bampa was a minergrafting down a piti recall his chesty cough black lumps in his spitdust of  death for pittancelined a throat so dry filthy lungs but clean heartwith love you cannot buytwelve hours down a holetin tub for a bathprepared with love and care nan placed by the hearthbraving winds and weatherto reach the outside loousing daily newspaperto wipe away the pooso sometimes when i'm downand life gets on my **** remember bampa's life...andwhere he worked, washed, and ****

jumping, dancingbowels burstingearly riseralways first inclung to the dooragonising hourscrying with pain....she sings in the showerok! dad you can come intoo late nowi **** in the bin

i sense a bitter person
twisted by life's fate
rather call it passion
instead of woeful hate

life is like a soda bottle
shaken with compression
bathsheba has released some gas
thro poetical expression

moralistic fibres
unafraid to speak
troubled past endured
made her strong not weak

also sense connection
you, myself, and jack
we have found a way in life
to get **** off our back

might be totally wrong, but it's my impression. please let me know

anger, confusiontrapped in a cagetroublesome soulriddled with ragefamily and friendslove him to bitsdon't see the demonsfighting his witsblack cage of ragelifestyle demandingcries for someones understandinginternal tearsecho despairviolent voicesunder his hairtroubles lie heavyon un-opened heartsoff-load, travel light....wise horse,...empty cart

eighteen fifty industry,
men, women, children scarred,
ovens spewing sparks of death,
soulful welshmen charred.

greed of evolution,
marches on and treads,
upon the hungry townfolk,
that seldom see their beds.

ironmasters morals,
swilling in the smoke,
furnace fire bellows,
valley people choke.

ancestors bore hardship,
in days of horse and cart,
and modelled us to what we are....
welsh, proud, with homely hearts.

bystander was watchinga blind man cross the streethis guide dog stopping half wayand ****** upon his feetarriving at the pavementno reactive moandipped into his shoppingto give the dog a bonewhat you think you doing?the nosy stranger callswhen i find his headi'll kick him in the *****

returning from a night outbusting for a peedescretion of a grave yarddark cold cemetry bloddwyn used her pantiesmegan used a wreathto wipe away the dripperssighing with relief early sunday morningworried husbands chatmy bloddwyn had no pants on,my megans worse than that she had a card stuck up her bumand a white carnationsaying....always be remembered....from the firemen down the station

ball bag of *****
ovaries beware
lust of the manhood
lies that he cares
over cooked passion
carelessly had
kiddies unwanted
some with no dad

food of abundance
feeling redundance
riddled with frustrated rage

pretending to love me
wire above me
confined to a small metal cage

no longer sing
a song on a wing
natural envirioment gone

free as a bird
these words are absurd
in prison, and done nothing wrong

black clouds of solitude,mid celebrating crowds,people oblivious,of his lonely cloud.knee caps exposed,holes in his socks,temporary soles,from a cardboard box.homeless, sad, lonely,tortured by fumes,christmas dinner,families in tune.laceless shoes, fleeing,agony of hunger,lost wasted chances,when ignorant youngster.tattered feet hasten,evading the din,to comfort of home....two rats, and a bin.shiver and sharing,leftover platter,green mouldy french fries,black soggy batter.cooking fumes blending,seasonal natter,his dreamland beckons,cold teeth chatter.

driving along in my auto mobilemy baby beside me at the wheeleverything right, nothing seemed wrongrevealing her thigh, a glimpse of her thongteasing and pleasing, live action pornparty in pants, one wheel and two hornscrash, wallop, bang, cos i did'nt seepolice car in front, but he felt mea fine, six points, coppers new bumperthump her? or dump her, but wanted to **** hershouting mad rages, the constable rantswho stunk like a sewer.......he'd **** in his pants

cross-eyed puppy rottwieler
our bond of love is deep
because of his affliction
the ******* sold him cheap

visited  the local vet
took the time and trouble
to make my doggy better
and stop him seeing double

i'll have to put him down at once
said dr fronconstevi
why?  just because he's cross-eyed?
no,.... he's ******* heavy

doctor i'm in troubledon't know what to dosix o'clock on the doti always have a poolisten dai, thats normalyour bowels regulate.but our mam is going bonkers....i don't get up till eight

i honny be ten minniei pooron sumfing slinkydai had pulled a stunner...the waitress from the ****** whah yoo fancy big boy?half naked in her finerysexcitedly he mumbledi'd like a sixty ninery i no cook this time o nightit nearly half pass twoyoo chauvinistic bastardthen hit him with her shoe

***** dai the dogger,
went searching thro the woods,
with hope of voyeurism,
or ******* if he could,

sound of heavy breathing,
saw shadows through the trees,
a man was standing up,
woman on her knees.

they noticed dai was watching,
a dogger with a bone,
would you like to join us,
if we take you home?

*** show and a *******,
***** dai's delight,
they led him to a carpark,
in darkness of the night,

we don't live very far,
our house is near caerphilly,
lady did'nt say much,
her partners name was billy.

snuggled up in bed,
dai's pants off,
so was billy's,
then dai shot through  the window.....
cos both of them had *****'s.

***** delwyn two *****,
the rampant ram from brecon,
watched the jungle program,
the one with ant and dec on.

now delwyn not the brightest,
mountain man from wales,
but knew he was the boyo,
for any bushlicker trails.

i've licked lots of bushes,
he wrote to ant and dec,
champion  mountain muffer,
with permanent stiff neck.

whay hay man we are sorry,
ye cannot qualify,
y haf te be a celebrity,
an in the pooblics eye.

an you are jus a diver,
the lowest of the lowest,
but i am a cellar butty,...
ask any girl in powys.

discrimination is within.....
us all i'm sad to say
black, short, tall,or ginger
rich, poor, bald or gay

judgemental in appearance
is human nature true
before you make your mind up
take a look at you

rumour tumours
feed and flourish
mushrooms need
**** for nourish

purposeless people
with nothing to do
scorn the progressors
vision to view

optimist swims
jelly fish float
thro sea of life
live or gloat

tried to smoke some drugs last nightwhen i was really drunk.just before my head went popi think they called it ***** balance went, legs were bentlike bambi on the iceput my coat on upside downspewed on my shoes twice raced two blue turtles up my stairson route to bed,....i thinkfollowed by big bunny wabbitsall of them were pink buzzing sound, head spun roundtried the door but missedthink i'll leave the drugs aloneand stick to getting ****** 

i was'nt very clever
at maths at park st school
thick as **** when adding up
a mathematics mule

but i was quite good looking
girls where always there
counting not a problem
with gelled black streaky hair

puberty and progress
next stage after kissing
discovered that my *****
was'nt just for *******

then came my dilemma
a valley ****** vexed
blod the bike from blaina
begging to be sexed

how'd you want it bloddwyn?
oooh!....ten inches would be nice
i counted for a minute....
then i shagged her twice

***** del the dealer
dyslexsic dodgy bloke
got a can stuck up my nose
when i tried sniffing coke

offered me a bisco discuit
i think was ecstasy
said that i would dance all night
but he called it a d

snack, and *****, d.m.a
maraganja, ****
pc plod approached the scene
and del was off at speed

befriended by the builders
a building site next door
they gave her little jobs to do
although she's only four

when friday came,they even gave
her wages for the week
foreman smiled at sophie's joy
and tweaked her rosie cheek

off she went, to spend her pay
there was no way of stopping
a working girl with hard earned cash
so mummy took her shopping

hello mr  sweetshop man
i've got cash to spend
been grafting with my muckers
an real job,....not pretend

are you working monday?
he passed her pick and mix
aye! if those  wankers from jewson
bring the ******* bricks

dear children.i hope and pray, someday i maylay my troubled weary headon peaceful downy pillowsbut never wake up dead so never follow footstepslearn where others treadbe watchful how they slipnever be misled learn from steel ,coal,iron soulsalways be yourselfnever walk in shadowsalways walk in health live above the groundor dead beneath the flowerseither way appliesmake good the precious hours indulge in all thats freewith happiness and laughtersavour every momentit may be too late after i hope to gaze, up or downone day from heaven or helland watch my children learn, from....where i climbed, and where i fellall my love, dad ** 

way high on brecon beacons,
amid the rain and sleet,
along came a ***** ole collier,
with wellies on his feet.

i said, you ***** ole collier,
my wife is fast asleep,
she's always got an headache,
please help me catch a sheep.

i am a ***** ole collier,
my name is slimy sam,
but you see i'm gay boy,
so lets go catch a ram.

one day the giant teacher
walked pupils round the world
some small giant boys
some small giant girls

jimmy giant stick your hand
down through the cloudy mist
tell me our location ...
his methods had a twist

think we are in india
triumphant in his call
i can smell the curry
and feel the taj mahal

julie giant,tommy, joe
*****, stan, and sid
egypt was the answer
they touched the pyramid

china, shouted sally
i can feel the wall
chinese folk in paddy fields
i can touch em all

tiny taffy  last in turn
came trailing from behind
dai stick your hand down through the sky
and see what you can find

BLAENAVON, shouted dai
while clutching at his crotch.
can you feel the big pit?
no,.... some **** stole my watch

white paloured skinfreckled facesturning pinkin sunny places blaze of red upon their headno right to be a whingerwhat if they were black, gay, dwarfs ?as well as being ginger.

lucky dai the builder,
was ill at home in bed,
a breeze block missed his shoulder,
but hit him on the head,
he'll wear a hat and steel cap boots,
when in work tomorrow,
the block bounced off his nut,
and landed on his toe,
he thought that health and safety,
was only meant for wimps,
his helmet sits upon his head,
and wobbles when he limps.

loaded with her weekly shop
outside the doors at asda
***** **** that never let
opportunity go passed her

hello big boy
she stroked his cheek
my bags are heavy
knees are weak

i lift  dumbells
night and day
giss ya shopping
lead the way

i've got an itchy *****
and i've got the horn
do you want to see it?
you **** hunk of brawn

you'll have to show me luv
it's hard for me to see
those ****** japanese cars
look all the same to me

teepee dwellers gather rounddancing flames, natures soundhappy hippies, beads and banglesvegan food but leather sandals save the earth, soap-dodgers pleadflower power, worship weedhate pollution, love the treeslove and peace, pure and free dreadlock strands, ***** handssymbolic signs from aeresol cansacrylic colours produced by manthe hairy eco paints his van van thats spews black filthy smokebalding tyres, handbrake brokesigns of peace and global gleeno wipers, tax, or m.o.t workin hippy knows the scoresummer paid by winters choremother earth their passion causeand some drive home in four by fours

lil jack horner, sat in the corner
nursing his aching back
stuck his fat thumb, right up his ***
and miss muffet gave him a wack

sometimes i sit and wonder why,
i'm staring at this screen,
if you don't like x-factor,
you wil know what i mean.

one night i had  a curry,
doc martin had just started,
she had her taste of karma,
as i let rip, and farted.

moaning bout the pungent fumes,
say's i'm very rude,
but she's the one to blame,
she cooked the ******* food.

laughing loud at noise and smells,
omitted from my belly,
*******  up face, holds her nose,
and tries to watch the telly.

lil boyo peep lost his sheepand did'nt know where to find hersearched the valley's far and widethen found her with a minerhe never heeded gossipor the rumour tumoursand thought the sheepy storieswere down to valley humour miner with his trousers downmade boyo feel quite illhis sheep was stained with coal dustand was'nt on the pillsad tears welled his eyesas he told his mam.don't worry bout it sweetheartour mary's got a lamb

lil jack horner sat in a corner
mulling a miserable time
pulled out a pen, that was it then
off-loaded his passion thro rhyme

lil jack horner sat with a *****
in fantasy islands delight
pulled out his ****, wanked in a sock,
then it was time for good night

lil taffy two tugs would wake up to the dawn,leaping to his laptop searching sites for ****,thanking stephen hawkins, also mr gates,grateful of technology, while taffy masterbates.the boyo bashed his bishop, most of all his life,now pc world was better and cheaper than a wife,lubrication, change of hands, oil and vaseline,lesbians, fat fetishes, and threesomes on his screen,but poor ole taffy passed away, his family in disgrace,trousers round his ankles, a smile upon his face,but two tugs died so happy, while he had a vid on,undertaker done his nutt,,,,he could'nt get the lid on.

royal rulers mighty roar,jungle dwellers all in awe,mountain,bush, pasture, plain,reigns supreme his domain.but...could this kingdom cat compare,on close cut grasses greens of fair?would he fill ten holes for fun?bag nine birdies, not just one.does he stroke a lengthy club?***** that swing thro greeny shrub,best perfecting all he masters,dimpled ***** inbag with castors.would he ryd-her cup of love? use two hands, just one glove?could he bunk-her in the rough?wedge it, chip it, putt the ****.could he ease the game with foreplay?drive it homeward up the fairway,does he eye the aim while kneeling?as caddy guides his pole to feeling,so who's the top dog ***** cat?won't take long to answer that,would lion do it if he could?i know for sure......tiger wood

valley mountains high,
cattle there to serve us,
rugged men are men,
sheep are very nervous,

megan's dentures in a jar,
pug face snoring porker,
drove llambo to his wellies,
the mountain mutton stalker.

valley commandos camouflage dress,
headband, wellies, wooly string vest,
llambo llewellyn up to the test,
heads for the hills searching his quest.

english may laugh,
and label us sinners,
while we **** sheep,
they eat them for dinners.

reading the papers,
watching the news,
future is bleak,
to negative views.

lambing in springtime,
fresh flowers in bloom,
wash away worry,
misery and gloom.

look forward not backward,
with hope in your heart,
pave your own pathway,
or stay at the start.

horizons seem bleak,
to miserly souls,
blind to the  lambs,...
and never have goals.

the working girl approached him
a busy cardiff pub
stockings and suspenders
gave his leg a rub

hundred quid, i'm yours tonight
whatever you desire
heart beat like a big bass drum
his calvin kliens on fire

could not believe his fortune
what a stroke of luck
so he made her paint his house
and clean his ***** truck

at middle age there comes a stage
a crossroads with red lights
confused with lifes directions
straight on, left, or right

it only took a second
to realise i love fun
so i turned my **** around
went back to twenty one

religeous rulers point the way,
prophets promise glory day,
we selected you to stand,
die for power, greed, and land,
heaven waits with golden gates,
eternity and peace awaits.

prime minister, or president,
never go where you get sent,
politicians telling lies,
young men dream thro rambo eyes,
fight for country, king or queen,
blood on your hands,  mine are clean.

misled martyrs, fighting wars,
greedy leaders selfish cause,
soldiers bleed on foriegn  sand,
frontline battles cowards planned,
no turkey this year wrapped in foil,
fight for freedom....or is it oil?

you might have thought there was no wordthat would've rhymed with orangebut there's a mountain where i livecalled the mighty blorenge half a ***** of a cleavageblaenavon nestles deepa baize of fern and heatherwhere we go ******* sheep

fledgling's fly,
parents sigh,
worry, woeful,
wave goodbye.

investigating pathways new,
carry wisdom passed by you,
****** ground unexplored,
abandoned nest, warm but bored.

father, mother, don't you cry,
they all return, and you'll know why ....
why you nurtured them to grow,
what you reap, is what you sow,
produce of your loving care,
glow of pride that can't compare.

****** up paddy's weekly binge,
did nothing for poor mary's twinge.
she quelled her urge with robbie rasta,
who smoked the ****,and **** was faster.

 the ***** guru jumped with fright,
yo husband early home tonight.
don't ye worry, stay in bed,
the fockers ****** right off his head.

 mary, mary, the drunkard bleats,
der is tree people beneath dees sheets,
shot op ye dronk i am no cheat,
get outa bed an count the feet,

 sorry me darlin, der's only four,
staggered to the bathroom door,
where ye goin? what ye thinkin?
to wash me feet, they're fockin stinkin.

he lives up the road, down by me
and tried to **** up a tree
tree was too high, he ****** in his eye
now the poor ****** can't see

i stand and stare, fridge is bare
no carpet on the floor
washing soaked, heating broke
bailiffs at the door

roof is leaking, house is creaking
single dad, sad moaner
middle aged, without a wage
christmas round the corner
but.....

a little boy in india
not eaten for a week
no shirt upon his back....
a grin upon his cheek

he's never tasted biscuits
crisps, or orange squash
always wears a smile
but never clothes to wash

unaware of fridges
heating run on gas
never seen a carpet
school room or a class

materialistic *******
food that goes to waste
life we take for granted
he will never taste

happy ever grateful
for simple things of need
never witness our ****
of gluttoness and greed

babbling bard's borrowed blabberpolished performers jibber jabberpinching published stolen cultureverse of a cuckoo, parrot, or vulture thespian thrush corally crowspilfered produce of past masters proseperfect posture, prancing croondotty damsels sigh and swoon shakespearian showman strutting stagesobtaining material from dead poets pagesstudious stealer's theatrical thirstrapturous robber, magpie of verse wisely walter mundane mittypoetical poacher prancing prettyempty shallow pretentious crookcrafty criminal compiling book robber of rhyme from archival shelfcopy-cat crooner can't do it himselfrouted teeth spout from mouth like a troutaudience wonder, what is he on  about any question's? the laurete quizzedyes said one,...do you know where the bog is? this is a true story, i was there. and the **** concerned is the editor of poetry wales magazine. who told me that i should study other peoples work for at least five years before i put pen to paper. i promptly answered, .... too late butty, i've already published 3 books, and sold the lot (only locally mind, but did'nt tell him that). he read other peoples poems that night, that were converted from english to welsh, and no one round here speaks or understands welsh.  

i have a blow up sheepy doll
that sleeps with me at night
apart from where i fixed her
most of her is white

might be sad, some say mad
when sexlife is in limbo
love bite made her **** last night
she flew out through the window

when life aint fair and all aboveare heavy clouds that push and shovemoney problems, ****** moodsmother worries, father broods materialism that we causewhile others die on distant shoresblessings, burdens, never countedself indulgence foremost mounted