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BeckyH Jul 4
So sod it. We're off to the pub.
The Mrs is putting on lipstick,
The collar is getting a scrub.
I'm all ready to distance
But there is a problem you see?
This two metres malarkey?
British feet and inches for me!
I'll sit at my usual table
And stare at my usual wall
But I'm proud to flick fingers to 'rona
Cos like Boris I've done ****** all.
Anton Snert May 24
Brexit. Exit. There ain’t no turning back
Tear down the flag of Europe and hoist the Union Jack.
Throw out all the migrants, lock the borders down
Fill in the channel tunnel and watch the desperate drown

Brexit. Exit. We don’t need the EU
Krauts & Frogs & Belgians, telling us what to do.
Boris & his cronies are planning out our fate
You know that we can trust them to make our country great

Brexit. Exit what was that you say?
The interest rates are rising and you’ve had a cut in pay?
No-one wants to buy our goods the Pound falls through the floor
Boris has gone missing & Nigel’s locked his door

Brexit. Exit. Is this not what you planned?
Fighting with each other for this green and pleasant land?
Well there’s nothing left to fight for, our country’s turned to *****
As the last one leaves ‘Great Britain’ will you please turn off the light..
Robert Ippaso Dec 2019
I wielded my sword
And slayed the foul dragon,
Then crammed the vile beast
Right back in his flagon.

Pickled and sodden
There will he lie
Few to remember
Fewer to cry.

Obnoxious his deeds,
Destructive his breath,
His venom pervasive,
So glad for his death.

Now we can harness
Our thoughts and our prayers,
Be kind and productive
Not just dragon slayers.

This noble island
This hallowed soil,
So very much more
Than one man’s spoil.

Let the healing commence,
Work as one to achieve,
A country in which
We all so believe.

A land of invention,
Of Shakespeare and Keats,
Of boundless endeavor,
Whose heart strongly beats.
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Boris and Natasha's minds were awhirl
As the Russia probe facts did unfurl
Let's end the confusion
There was no collusion
Was fake news of moose and of squirrel
7/22/2018 - Poetry form: Limerick - Inspired by Rocky and Bullwinkle and Fractured Fairy Tales. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Boris likes to stroke his Mogg
Merkel loves a hot Macron
David Davis hates to Barnier
Keir Starmer gels with Garnier

May adores her slimy Gove
While Corbyn woos the Abbott
Liz Truss? Such angry sourpuss
Herself to champion loudly fuss

And Greening's not for leaning
Against the Brexit so opposed
Sajid wants a blimp of Trump
Which has given Donald the ****

Whilst in the gilt historic chair
We’ve a bent partisanal ******
Cash grabbing John the squeaker
Bercow! How in hell are you still Speaker?

Now when speaking of selfish greed
Travel. Duck houses. Second homes, and such
Let’s remember; as not to would be unfair
That glib arrogant war-monger; Blair

I’ve had enough of all of them
The Blunts. The Hunts. The useless…
Pieces of flotsam and jetsom
Don’t even start me on Leadsom!

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
On the subject of politics and Westminster in 2018 - Brexit etc, and the inadequacy of our politicians on all sides of the divide.
Pussycat Dolls,
Pussycat Dolls,
Where have you been?

We've been up to London
To see Queen The Musical
Then went to see the mayor
Hid his computer mouse
On his electric chair.

Switched it on!

Not so much PC -
More AC/DC

And then we were gone
On a sightseeing trip
With an aunt and a niece.

Poor Boris Johnson

Michael McLean Apr 2014
you used to come home loudly in the dark but

quietly in the day we’d be together

to compensate

we were only in love on Halloweens

you in those hundred dollar costumes worth two

in material and tiny fingers

**** rats and ER surgeons

to me with a pop-culturally relevant strap-on mask

Frankenstein (to the dumb dudes that go to these things)

that chisels me like a jell-o mold

that blurs her infinitely beautiful walking-away

the blooming glances pairing parting lips to talk *******

caking the ***** reeling in our heads

winding round the spindle hooked tight

pulling my hard-hat plastic-green face

to the windmill

— The End —