Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
John Ryles Mar 2012
With one old roller skate
I'd be out to play
The local boys
Would stay all day

Remove the straps
You’re left with a chassis
Then an old Beano book
It looked real classy

Now to the longest bank
Only one car a day
Place the book on top
We’re on our way

Sitting low legs outstretched
Leaning back the race begins
Round the corner leaning to the side
Riding our skateboards with pride

No designer logo
Or high speed wheels
To come to a stop
We used our heels

Those summer days we were young
Happy children having fun
It cost not a penny to improvise
One old skate with a book the right size

It's quite sad to see
All the waste today
Expensive toys
Just thrown away
g clair Mar 2014
have you ever felt shot into space
with nothing to hold to without any trace
of the one who was always around
who could laugh really hard and without any sound

and you fear that someday he will see
that you're mind is a strange one indeed, yet it's free!
to be up in the air and then down
hear that music that plays like a carnival sound

and it's something that's deep in your soul
from the day you first met he's been making you whole
cause he won't let you feel afraid,
fix you up when you're ****** and knows his first aid

Five of us kids to take care of
and all within seven short years
Leno then Beano then Bonzo then Labo then Damo
all laughter and tears.

It seems that we share the same feelings
about our ol' dad, and it's said
much better to share them while we are alive
than to wait until after we're dead.
  
and so I will write about Daddy
and because I am long with my word
my poems I will say can go on for a day,
and a night or so that's what I've heard.

To Tony, Loretta would cater
she cooked for the man who would date her
they married and so, and what do you know
three children would come along later.

Born October two four, nineteen hundred
and twenty eighth year of our Lord
at home, the first child of Tony and Rhetts
baby Vinny, was cut from the cord.

This sweet little Vincent Morrone
raised up in by my Nonna and Tony
quickly stuck in his ways, from the start of his days
and could size up the truth from a phony.

He grew up in old Jersey City
where he polished the width of his witty
had a sister named Claire who remembers him there
dear old dad, handsome lad, and she's pretty.

Their brother was born sometime later
our sweet uncle Jerry Morrone
Handsome and good and well liked in the hood
got those genes and that same funny bone.

 After Highschool, staff sergeant in Air Force
guiding take offs and landings, his post
Four years of St Pete, put him smart on the street  
and he left for the likes of our coast.

He was offered a job down in Jackson
elementary dear Watson, it's said
he would fall for another young teacher, a screecher
whose sassiness got to his head

He married our mother, that's Jacquie
they really were some kind of a pair
she knew he was smart, liked his looks and his heart
and respected the good that was there.

So five days a week Dad would teach
and he liked those nine months of the year
but he lived for the summers at Jenkinson's beach
where that salt water pool was so clear.

in a torn old white sweatshirt and plaid shorts
he was sharing a Bud at the fence
loved his mower and pool, and that backyard was cool
much more like a park, you would sense.

we know how he hated the gurlic
and that onions would just make him hurlick
my mother would never use any such thing
he could drive her to sing like Steve Urlick.
( did I do that?)

No qualms about eating cold hotdogs
and cheddar in chunks from red foil
liked his eggplant cut thin, and his gravy could win
a blue ribbon, the secret? No spoil!!

Could deliver a joke like Bob Newhart
or a pun just for fun was sublime
he was always aware, but for crowds, didn't care
unless it was harmony time.

Best one on one at a party
but the life when it came to his cracks
made small talk okay, but preferred just to stay
to the side and be watching the acts.

Old Spice and that weekender stubble
did his thing and his speaking was soft
he was never a man to cause trouble
but he'd tell you when something was off.

McDonalds and corn on the cob
smoked a pipe, did not curse, and was never a slob
though I know he was not always neat
he was clean, never smelled, never spit in the street.

taught us never to take wooden nickels
and he loved a fresh jar of those kosher dill pickels
drove a large Orange bug in the day
with a driver side  SPEBSQSA

he wiped off my face with his thumb
that he'd lick first to clear away jelly and crumb
and he'd always be there in a pinch
if I needed his help, he was there, not a Grinch!

He was always the Good Humored one
bought us Ice cream and took us to places for fun
an occasional "word to the wise
you've cashed in your chips
and don't hand me your lies."

and the one who would walk me not once
but twice down the aisle of heartache and gloom
as a wife I have failed, a dunce
yet dismissing that elephant out of the room.

and tried not to laugh at my lot
at my barrenness, troubles and all of that snot
took me back to this place for some peace
never charged me a dime, not a landlord with lease
but a man with the mercy he knows
he understood sometimes that's just how life goes

and suddenly everything's changed
I am fifty two times around, feeling deranged
and it's not because I need a crutch
feeling lost in this world  
which I've lived in and such

but that I have been shot into space
having lost what I loved, it's my dad's loving face
and I'm here in the house that he bought
it's the one where we loved and the one where
we fought

and I cried here at length at the table
feeling shot into space, as if I am unable
to cope with the loss of my dad,
with the loss of his smile  and the voice that he had

and the place that he had in my life
in my heart....in my head...in my mind...So I climbed
to room where my dear daddy slept
and I laid on that bed and I wept and I wept
feeling shot into space I recalled that man's face
and I reached for the  tissues he kept in that place

and in one second flat, as I blew
from the nose of his likeness,  I knew and it's true
I was beamed back from space
into someone's embrace
and believe me, as if my dad knew...

For my father was known to be punny
always quick with the wit, such a honey
he would tell me to write, for it was his delight
that his children were his kind of funny.

I am never to think I am odder
for I am what I am, my dad's daughter
I hear distant strumming and now my dad humming
the theme song from Welcome Back Kotter.

http://youtu.be/5VlGyMG0ksg
My dad was a teacher and enjoyed music, jokes, puns, crow sounds, barbershop harmony, golfing, wearing certain colors which made him look good,  his own family, grandchildren, crossword puzzles. spy novels, movies. hotdogs, eggplant parm, radio talk shows, good food at the same restaurant, the Chapter House. Singing Barbershop harmony a tear jerker song or movie, peace and quiet. mowing the lawn and working in the yard, his car, a little whiskey sour or a cold Bud in the summer. BBQ out back. Football. Baseball. Ice cream. root beer floats. smoked a pipe ( the smell of sweet pipe tobacco still reminds me), applesauce with cinnamon , apricot jam, my cookies.  etc.
Larry B Apr 2010
There's nothing funny about flatuence
My wife has it all the time
Course she always blames it on me
And I'll always say, yes dear, it's mine

The worst time, is on those cold nights
With the covers pulled over my head
The sweet aroma of, "What in the world was that?"
It drives me right out of my bed

Now I'm not saying that it's stinky
Okay, yes I am
I even got her beano for Christmas
Well, cause, I'm just that kind of man

Now see, everytime that it happens
Her and my dog, point at each other
Then the dog puts a pillow over his face
Til I think he will surely smother

(Whispers) Wait just a minute, my wife walked in
I can't let her see what I'm writing
Cause if she knows that I told you
Then the rest of the night we'll be fighting

Okay, she's gone, anyway she's stinky
Flatuence, has got to be a sin
For there's always something evil
That seeping out of her rear end

Now, I have literally tried everything
And I don't know what else to do
I love her, so I guess I'll accept it
While holding my nose and saying "Shoo"
HTR Stevens Dec 2018
Billy Whizz!
Billy Whizz!
How fast you run!
You climb the mountains…
You cross the plains…
And when you’re done,
You do it all over again!
Sjr1000 Feb 2018
It's very uninformed
It thought

It always has a destination
Always needs directions

Meets the defination
of a paraplegic

"Lights on, Molly"
"Lights off Molly"
"TV on"

"Toast crisp, dear Mollie
"Slow cooker four hours"

It's always very disconnected

Cassie calling

Blood pressure warning
180/105
Heart rate 135
Oxygen 8%

Cassie disconnected

Molle is never alone
always connected to the
neural net
Every device on planet Earth,
Traveling with New Horizon
until the end of time

Ron calling
Volume down
Bluetooth off
Ron disconnected

"Search divorce attorney "
"Search mortuary"
"Search cyanide purchases"

"Bluetooth on"
"Home"
"Tears of rage
Tears of grief
playlist
turn on, M
thanks."



"Search best way to cook
brussel sprouts"
"Search beano"

Battery 15%

Charging

Molee powering  off.
Damian Murphy Jun 2015
Remember...
When comic books were the real big thing
and kids everywhere waited eagerly
every week excited to start reading
the latest Beano or Dandy
Remember…
Enjoying Dennis the Menace and Gnasher,
Minnie the Minx and the Bash Street Kids,
Roger the Dodger, Scrapper and Basher,
Beryl the Peril and Billy Whizz.
Remember…
Thinking Bully Beef and Chips were so great;
the awful things that Bully would do!
Not forgetting Desperate Dan and Keyhole Kate
who were always fantastic too.
Remember…
When we used to read the Sparky or the Topper
or the Buster or even the Beezer
without of course forgetting the Victor
or Roy of the Rovers either.
Remember…
When they had the Bunty for girls too,
the Mandy and Judy as well,
which many boys would read it is true;
though all promised never to tell!
Remember…
Waiting patiently each year for Santa to bring
the Annual edition of your favourite one,
spending hours on Christmas Day just reading;
and reading was the best thing under the sun!
Remember…
When everyone joined their local libraries
soon after schooldays had begun
When you were sure to find a book to please
and reading was so much fun.
Remember…
When books transported us to another world,
each new book a revelation,
instilling in us a love of the written word;
really fuelling our imagination!
Remember…
How much enjoyment you got from reading
and what little effort it really took,
how the pressures of life soon began receding
when you immersed yourself in a book.
Remember…
To try and make time to read a good book,
to take time out every now and then,
and you never know, with a bit of luck;
You might fall in love with reading again.
A clove of garlic keeps vampires at bay
keeps a cold away
wish the lady would stay, but
she goes too.

I'd ban 'flu
man 'flu
nothing new there.

A pillow
to lay low
and under
the duvet, eyes closed
a rainbow of light.

I read Tolstoy
oh boy.....

,,,,spotting a Beano at the end
of the rainbow
I read that as well.

Garlic stinks don't ya think
I don't think at all
as I fall
asleep.
Anthony McKee May 2013
There are days where we meet up
To walk under cool crisp skies
Made up of indigoes, lilacs and light crimsons
Sunnier afternoons. Skimming to and fro
The slates of English Street. The plains of Sprucefield
Sprawling in front of us. Boulevards of Cookstown
That stretch far and wide, skirted with shops
Owned by unloved mannequins. We journey further
In our red Nissan Silvia, with the roll-down windows
With a pile of yellowed copies of the Beano in the back.
Mine, of course. I like to read. You taught me to.
Blur upon blur, we share whispers with each other
The alphabet, songs. I can count to ten, on my own. I did it once
In Marks & Spencer. Everyone was proud.
Taking our bag of tricks with us, we sup from place to place
Chicken nugget Happy Meals. Crumbs of a german biscuit.
Half of a sausage roll at the Trian. Twilight falls, the blurs
Become darker, curiouser. Soon I am home. The day is done.

There are other days where we meet up
Under a slightly greyer tinge. I laugh
I can’t change that, I tell you. The weather sometimes.
Less skimming, less journeying. Sometimes I’ll say
Remember that red Silvia? All the places we used to go?
But there’s no answer. The whispers have gone.
Corset Mar 2016
She's a mystery
our little vase.
just sitting out there
in the cosmos
all alone
with her hour glass
figure. It's time
to wake up and don
the 'morrow...
oh, such a powerful


p
r
  e
   t
    t
     y
       new dress!

Einstein visits my bathroom
walls spouting bright ideas
about (ILL)uminati nation,
and it's coffee drinking
friends.

I'm sorry sir, but I don't subscribe,
I sleep very well, thank you.

I've lost half a front tooth to winter
already,  tripped over laundry
baskets and almost broke my neck doing
the limbo...and the makers of Beano can't
keep enough stocked on the shelf,
oh no,
not I.

It's crazy how clumsy
i'm becoming of late.
tumbling into shell,
little green pistachios
tender meat
fledgling tuition's
not this sweet thing,
I'm not buying what you
ladies and gents want to sell,
I'll keep my wings,
my hearts and flowers,
no disrespect,
Thank you just the same.
I was never into Halloween
or the things that bump
into the night, or cackle
like mad hens in my half wake.

I prefer love, not the half light,
not the lime stand where Mr. Todd and I
have had quite the conversation yesterday,
who does he think he's fooling?

Ill advised, I might say, to play with
such things, such as the sweetness of
the naive flock, let's just say I've
been properly introduced
and my eyes are open,
and leave it there
on the ***** step
with the musical instruments
and the rainbows, I prefer
to be colorless like the page.

No trade darlings, nice try,
but I love you...
and anytime you'd like
to take a ride into the outfield
and watch the ballgame,
from the sidelines of a
couple of overheated stars,
remember, beautiful rays am I,
in which you may trust,
an accidental supernova,
see how the star's tracks
are blinking, winking, and
tapping out love letters
in Morris code...all for you
baby, all for you,
I intend to blow this pop stand
walk off  into the fog, whole,
in love, with or without you.
Donna Jun 2017
torch shone so brightly
as I lay under bed quilt
reading beano book

I read every line
checking out every picture
gnasher was my fav

I remember feel
of soft flannelette sheets
touching my young skin

when morning arrived
the bright sun seep through window
putting on live show

I watch wallpaper
come alive like orange sun
ready to start day

nanny shared a room
with me and sis , she snored like
a fierce lawn mower

her third set of teeth
slept in fizzy beaker cup
her gurney smile smiled

every morning she
got up early to catch bus
to take her to work

she smelled of freshly
grown spring flowers that lingered
joyfully all day

she was my summer
all year round , her flowery
frocks cute as petals

a tea lady she
was , poured tea all day long from
her golden trolley

appreciation
felt from every given cup
of tea  , wet lips smiled

her chocolate hair wrapped
neatly in hair net , her sweet
cleanliness top form

but soon she would be
replaced by vending machines
technogly bloomed  

to me she was my
best friend , she gave me tiny
wings to practice on

once in a while
her memory steps forward
making me sing loud

She left me a love
full of happiness which still
glows brightly today
Loved my nan very much she was a delightful wonderful lady x
HTR Stevens May 2018
Shall I call you “Bruno”?
Shall I call you “Beano”?
What is in a name?
Are they not the same?
Both have world-wide fame.
Names are just a game.
You are very happy
Whate’er your name may be.
Paw tapping on the phone;
Teeth gnawing on a bone;
Dancing around the room -
Lovely flowers in bloom;
Watching TV cartoon;
Mesmerised by the moon...
A rose smells just as sweet,
Whatever name you tweet.
The man doing the crossword in red pen
the lady in the glasses sat next to him,
the faces that I see all look grim

it must be that time on the underground.

The sweet voice that issues from the tannoy
the small boy who's reading the beano,

'mind the gap' must be the new way we all go,
It must be that time again on the underground.  

I'm ready to rock and I am ready to roll,
I'm ready to escape from this torturous hole.

Someone speaks as the passengers leak out at Liverpool street,
but the doors close on the voice and we've only one choice and that is to carry on.

Nobody could possibly in their wildest imagination want to get off at Chancery Lane station but some do and some carry on with me avoiding the Chancery, so
let all the lawyers there sue me.

I want to go home now it feels like I've worked just to get here and here's where the day starts.
John,
you should have kept your head.

Salome came to show me
through the seventh veil of mystery
but
I should have stayed at home and
read the Beano

and now she'll know
who I am
John Bartholomew Jan 2022
Growing up we only had fizzy pop whilst chasing busy bee's
How times have changed from bike shed kissing and climbing trees
When Pac-Man was fun and kirby was free
And dads car seatbelt was just an obscurity
Panini stickers at school were all the rage
Even Spurs were good sung on by Chas and Dave
Mum collecting the Texaco vouchers with just ten more left to save
Your big sister all dolled up and heading for a rave
But times move on and in a cinch weve changed for worse or better
We tut at the simplist of things whilst choosing brie or feta
Labelled as the primest of souls with a tendancy of 'oh just let her'
Sat in the mall with 2 screaming kids and Bernie her Red Setter
Fourteen years old and already knowing a Latte from a Cappacino
I was sat in my room, not a penny to spend, happy with my Beano
How times move on, straight past our eyes, it's just how life goes
A kid on a swing, always pondering things, on how the wind blows
It'll circle again, this life with new friends
To some other wandering kid, always starting a new trend
And off it goes again.....

Life

JJB
The principle goal of education in the schools should be creating men and women who are capable of doing new things, not simply repeating what other generations have done. — Jean Piaget

It's not the future that you're afraid of. It's repeating the past that makes you anxious. — Unknown

Document the moments you feel most in love with yourself - what you're wearing, who you're around, what you're doing. Recreate and repeat. — Warsan Shire
Alex McQuate Nov 2022
It came from the blue,
Not quite true,
For we had been scared a time or two to be true,
But now,
WOW,
Such a tiny "+" symbol can change so much.

You now rest in your Mama,
Just the size of a jellybean,
but our little Bam beano.
how you'll grow.

Will you love Harry Potter,
Star Wars,
both, neither?

In my dreams I see you playing the guitar,
but I'd be just as happy if you decided to play the bassoon,
to follow your dreams,
and love the journey for the beautiful chaos that it is.
To be foolish and terrifying,
because like Willi Carlisle says,
"It takes a certain kind of fool,
to make a difference in the world."

I imagine you being kind,
and these acts bring tears to my dilated eyes.

Speaking of eyes,
Will you have your mother's or my eyes?
Here entrancing green or my steely blue?
Will the world harden your eyes to what you see,
or will what you see soften you to what you can do?

Sweet child,
are you my daughter or my son?
Will you have me wrapped around your finger?
Or will you have me thinking of my own old man,
trying to not do what he failed in and copy what he had succeeded with.

I think of the future,
the danger,
the cost,
the sheer time.

God the time.

When you learn to drive, I'll be 44,
graduate with the class of 40 or 41.

My God the time.

We can't wait to meet you, my child,
Our sweet little bean,
Whether you're a Wyatt or an Ellise,
Just know that Mommy and Daddy love you,
and can't wait to show you the world,
with all in it to be seen.
I'm about to be a first-time dad!!! Hope you all have a good day!!!
Life's demanding enough
without understanding that stuff
it demands of you.

Give me a 'lonesome pine'
and something to rhyme
with.

In those olden days when we
were younger and hungered for
the future,
who knew then that we'd get fed up
with it?

With a Beano or a Dandy and an
American cream soda to hand we
were living the dream,
only we didn't know it.
idling thoughts
Someone told me that taking ******
is good for aligning the Chakras,
I think they were sending me up.

when innocence becomes a nonsense
because you've read the Kama Sutra
ah
but I've also read the Beano and the Dandy
and the Topper and Bunty, oh no, not
Bunty, but I was tempted,

and I always saw ******
as a massive waterfall,
I must have cataracts
I'll need to get them done.
It's flip a coin day
heads
I stay in bed and read the Beano
or tails
I get up and go to work

hmm
it came up tails,
okay
best of three.
REMEMBERING COLERIDGE

"Ok! Can we have..."
my mind shouts

from its directorial chair
megaphone in hand.

"A MIRACLE OF RARE DEVICE
over here!"

BUT OH! THAT DEEP ROMANTIC CHASM
is still in her caravan.

"Ok...cue camera No. 2 &
where...

where are the SUNNY PLEASURE DOMES WITH CAVES OF ICE
can someone please. . .

. . .get the ****** SUNNY PLEASURE DOMES WITH CAVES OF ICE
please!

"We've got a Coleridge
moment

coming up on his next
footstep!"

"Are all you brain cells
following me!"

Memory goes through wardrobe
dressing each thought

in perfect Kubla Khan
costumes.

"Ok...cue footstep 2000 &
waitforitwaitforit....2!"

"Ok people..!" shouts my mind
"...he's going to remember the

Coleridge any second
. .    .nOW!"

"Cut to...OH STILL UNRAVISHED BRIDE OF QUIETNESS!
wot...wot....cut CUT!"

"Ok...who pressed the Keats button!"

And so it is that a Keatsian personified urn
of Greek extraction

finds itself in Xanadu

as I cross the road
and almost get knocked down

by a ****** big No. 69

and a cursing cyclist
in spangled blue latex.

*

What it is like inside my brain as I try to remember the bits and bobs of Coleridge that bob up and down in the stream of my thought as I try to cross a busy road. The mind is more interested in salvaging the lines of the poem rather than coordinating the feet in order to cross the road still in possession of my life. I survived to tell the tale but...only just.

I guess I was remembering the old comic strip THE NUMBSKULLS that tinkled my pink when I was a young fella me lad and both comics and poems jumbled around in that little mind like so much bric-a-brac or emotional flotsam and jetsam. And so the lines like shipwreck sailors get washed up on the shores of my consciousness.

Our "myriad-minded Shakespeare" as Sammy said of Will and could have been said of me in this poem but not as successfully as either Shakespeare or Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

The Numskulls is a comic strip in The Beano, and previously in The Beezer and The Dandy – UK comics owned by D.C Thomson. The strip is about a team of tiny human-like technicians who live inside the heads of various people, running and maintaining their bodies and minds.

The comic strip first appeared in The Beezer in 1962 and was drawn by Malcolm Judge. In this version they lived inside a man's head rather than a boy's head. The man was never named, but the Numskulls referred to him as "our Man". There were six Numskulls during this time. The 'Mouth Department' was home to two Numskulls, named Alf and Fred. Luggy (Radar) looked a lot like Cruncher, Snitch looked like Cruncher as well except Snitch wore orange, Brainy had no glasses and had no hair apart from around his ears and wore black, Blinky looked the same except he was bald and Alf and Fred had two hairs on their head and wore black and yellow.
This is where I should be
in twenty twenty-four
thinking nineteen sixty-three.

Seven years old when old was last weeks Beano,
how dandy I looked in a bow tie and shorts.

But time as we all know
is put upon this Earth
to show us
the error of our ways.

By nineteen seventy-one I was gone,
a stevedore
boldly going into the hold and knowing
that this wouldn't end well.

We get things right and we get things wrong
and going on we learn to tell the difference.
remember those comics with stories on space and rockets
all dan dare and boy’s own


that we all read despite the gender


do you think they used protonmail alongside ray guns
for protection


here  we went up the hill to the little shop
for dandy and beano

sometimes the beezer

it was bigger


then occasionally she bought me sunshine stories
( the victorian promenade )

With our lines in the river
we'd sit there forever
waiting for a bite
and the tide would come in
it was then
that we'd strip and go
for a swim,
hot summer days
when on the banks of
the river we'd laze,
reading the Beano
or
sometimes the Dandy,

they came in quite handy
as
we seldom caught fish.
I was never sure if 'Ladies Walk' was the name of the signal box on the tracks which ran by the river or an invitation to the fairer ***, when you're ten it doesn't seem so important.

— The End —