Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
James Court Dec 2018
I don't care 'bout tradition,
I've learned about myself.
I'd rather be a free soul, me,
than give a **** about an elf,
or Santa Claus' mission,
or striving t'ward a God.
It's much more fun to call that done,
and walk the path as yet untrod.
James Court Nov 2018
The versatile buttcrack abounds with
such skills as 'that thing you sit down with'.
Such a wonderful tool 'tis,
but what I find more cool is
it's an awf'lly fun thing to make sounds with.
James Court Oct 2018
She wanders by the twilit lake,
for thoughts of him kept her awake,
so now she feels her heart may break,
and walks on, cold and bitter.

He treated her with scant respect,
while his behaviour went unchecked
and after years of self-neglect
she doesn't know what hit her.

The whispered words behind the bend
allow her heart no chance to mend,
thus forcing her instead to tend
to purely stressful matters,

and all the while the breezes blow,
the things she didn't want to know
occur to her in steady flow
and leave her heart in tatters.

For what good comes neglecting chat
which lays her bare, or lies her flat,
if without help, her brain does that,
and worse, it complicates it?

But she never does speak thus,
it's to be felt, not to discuss,
and, wanting not to cause a fuss,
she never even states it.
James Court Jun 2018
There is naught makes me quite as uneasy
as when socks and shoes start smelling cheesy.
I feel faint with a whiff,
but then soon I go stiff,
and I end up cross-eyed feeling queasy.
James Court Jun 2018
Oh don't mind me. I'll
just keep quietly dying
here out the inside
James Court Apr 2018
There once was a man from Sydney
who said, 'That man stole my sheep, didn' 'e!'
He chased him to Illawong,
pushed him in a billabong,
and stabbed him twelve times in the kidney.
James Court Apr 2018
drip, drip, drip,
there's a little water dropping from the
sip, sip, sippy cup,
spilling out and sopping in your
lap, lap, lap,
so you stand instead of sitting, so the
wet, wet, wet patch
is drying off (permitting that the
sun, sun, sun
is up high and the sky is clear), you
run, run, run,
to the arms of your mummy dear, and
tap, tap, tap,
on the bottom of your sippy-cup,
drip, drip, drip,
now you'll need your mum to fill it up.
Next page