Mr Uku Jan 12

I’ve been running about round the park like a twat
And it’s too bloody cold and I’m too bloody fat
I’ve forgotten my gloves and I ain’t got an ‘at
And the shorts that I’m in make me look like a prat

There are dogs on those leads that are too bloody long
And the people that walk them are walking them wrong
And I get tangled up with the lead and the pup
And the dog walkers laugh as I trip myself up

I gasp and I wheeze as I trundle around
Past the kids on the swings who are laughing out loud
Cos the sweat in my shorts makes it look like I’ve pissed
And my knee’s swelling up cos I’m getting a cyst

The friction is burning and hurting my thighs
And I’m not getting thinner, they’re still the same size
I finally get home and collapse on the mat
I’m not sure it’s worth it, I think I’ll stay fat

Week 2 of the 52 poem challenge brought this poem out in me.
Mr Uku Jan 4

Twelve months to try.
Twelve months to fail.
Twelve months to scream.
Twelve months to wail.
Twelve months to pick
Twelve months to choose
Twelve months to win
Twelve months to lose
Twelve months to do.
Twelve months to be.
Twelve months to look.
Twelve months to see.
Twelve months to take
Twelve months to give.
Twelve months to die.
Twelve months to live.

Done for week 1 of the 52 poem challenge. The theme for this week is my approach to the next 12 months.
Mr Uku Aug 2017

Four years is a very long time
To silence the sound of Big Ben’s chime

I thought about it for quite a bit
And realised I don’t give a shit

It’s just a fucking bell

Mr Uku Apr 2017

Today I went out for a walk,
I went all round the park.
I went out in the daytime
Cos I hates it when it’s dark.
I saw a lot of walking dogs
And trees and birds as well.
I even saw a heron
Eat a whole crab in its shell.
The park has lots of spaces
Where you can have a run.
Or benches where us fat arse types
Sit down to eat a bun.
So go and have an explore
of your local friendly park.
I’m sure that you will love it.
Go out and have a lark.

Parks are ace! If you have a park, go and use it before someone decides to charge entry. And for feck's sake, look after the damn thing!
Mr Uku Apr 2017

The days are getting longer and they seem to last a week
And you’re squinting through the curtains as you try to take a peek
At the bloody sunny weather on another sunny day
And you wish that bastard summer would just fucking go away.

Every fucker’s got their mower out and making loads of noise
And the streets are full of shitty kids and their shitty fucking toys
The “sounds” of summer make me sick and hurt my bleedin’ ears
It only last a few short weeks but feels like fucking years.

Fuckers with their barbecues fill the air with rancid smoke
And you can’t escape the fucking smell and wish your nose was broke
Every tosser with a radio thinks their music choice is best
And they all turn up the volume but nobody is impressed.

The parks are full of people and they’re in my fucking way
All playing fucking football cos it’s a fucking sunny day
All the blokes are fucking topless and only speak in fucking grunts
Why don’t the fuckers just fuck off? The shitty fucking cunts!

Summer’s just a bag of wank as far as I’m concerned
It’s just a bunch of drunken fucks all lobster red and burned
With loads of noise and yappy dogs and kids and barbecues
No wonder I’m so shitting full of fucking summer blues.

I know it's not actually summer yet, but I'm already not looking forward to it. Oh and this poem contains a lot of swears. So if you don't like swears you should probably go back in time and not read it. Also, it needs more verses so consider this a sneak peek. I can't believe I forgot to moan about the heat!
Mr Uku Apr 2017

I thought you should know
In case you were wondering
Because I thought you might be
And I'd hate if you didn't find out
Because I never got round to telling you
And I really think you should hear it
Because I'd want to if I were you
And under the circumstances
I'd like to inform you
And get it off my chest
Once and for all
And all that
That the fact of the matter is
When all's said and done
When it all comes down to it
In case you wanted to know
So you can't say I never told you
That I really really
Really really really
Really
Like your face.

Mr Uku Nov 2016

Bury me in the potter's field
But please make sure I'm dead
I don't want to wake up underground
When I should wake up in bed

Bury me in the potter's field
Bury me good and deep
But slap me hard to make sure I'm dead
And not just fast asleep

Bury me in the potter's field
Bury me in my pants
And please stick a big cork right up my bum
So I don't fill up with ants

Bury me in the potter's field
Bury me in a box
But in case I'm not dead, put a hat on my head
And my feet in some warm woollen socks

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