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David Bird Jun 2010
I'm an idiot, idi-fool,
Idiot, idiot, idi-tool,
  Idiot, idi-lump,
  Idiot, idi-chump,
Idiot, idiot, most uncool.

I'm an idiot, idi-goon,
Idiot, idiot, idi-loon,
  Idiot, idi-berk,
  Idiot, idi-****,
Idiot, idiot; a buffoon.

I'm an idiot, idi-plum,
Idiot, idiot, and so dumb,
  Idiot, idi-pratt,
  Idiot, getting fat,
Idiot, idiot, feeling glum.
I was cross and I was ill, and it was half-five in the morning.

**Minor change: "I am an" to "I'm an" recommended by my esteemed twitter friend http://twitter.com/bettiwettiwoo
Después de todo qué complicado es el amor breve
y en cambio qué sencillo el largo amor
digamos que éste no precisa barricadas
contra el tiempo ni contra el destiempo
ni se enreda en fervores a plazo fijo

el amor breve aún en aquellos tramos
en que ignora su proverbial urgencia
siempre guarda o esconde o disimula
semiadioses que anuncian la invasión del olvido
en cambio el largo amor no tiene cismas
ni soluciones de continuidad
más bien continuidad de soluciones

esto viene ligado a una historia la nuestra
quiero decir de mi mujer y mía
historia que hizo escala en treinta marzos
que a esta altura son como treinta puentes
como treinta provincias de la misma memoria
porque cada época de un largo amor
cada capítulo de una consecuente pareja
es una región con sus propios árboles y ecos
sus propios descampados sus tibias contraseñas

he aquí que mi mujer y yo somos lo que se llama
una pareja corriente y por tanto despareja
treinta años incluidos los ocho bisiestos
de vida en común y en extraordinario

alguien me informa que son bodas de perlas
y acaso lo sean ya que perla es secreto
y es brillo llanto fiesta hondura
y otras alegorías que aquí vienen de perlas

cuando la conocí
tenía apenas doce años y negras trenzas
y un perro atorrante
que a todos nos servía de felpudo
yo tenía catorce y ni siquiera perro
calculé mentalmente futuro y arrecifes
y supe que me estaba destinada
mejor dicho que yo era el destinado
todavía no se cuál es la diferencia

así y todo tardé seis años en decírselo
y ella un minuto y medio en aceptarlo

pasé una temporada en buenos aires
y le escribía poemas o pancartas de amor
que ella ni siquiera comentaba en contra
y yo sin advertir la grave situación
cada vez escribía más poemas más pancartas
realmente fue una época difícil

menos mal que decidí regresar
como un novio pródigo cualquiera
el hermano tenía bicicleta
claro me la prestó y en rapto de coraje
salí en bajada por la calle almería
ah lamentablemente el regreso era en repecho

ella me estaba esperando muy atenta
cansado como un perro aunque enhiesto y altivo
bajé de aquel siniestro rodado y de pronto
me desmayé en sus brazos providenciales
y aunque no se ha repuesto aún de la sorpresa
juro que no lo hice con premeditación

por entonces su madre nos vigilaba
desde las más increíbles atalayas
yo me sentía cancerbado y miserable
delincuente casi delicuescente

claro eran otros tiempos y montevideo
era una linda ciudad provinciana
sin capital a la que referirse
y con ese trauma no hay terapia posible
eso deja huellas en las plazoletas

era tan provinciana que el presidente
andaba sin capangas y hasta sin ministros

uno podía encontrarlo en un café
o comprándose corbatas en una tienda
la prensa extranjera destacaba ese rasgo
comparándonos con suiza y costa rica

siempre estábamos llenos de exilados
así se escribía en tiempos suaves
ahora en cambio somos exiliados
pero la diferencia no reside en la i

eran bolivianos paraguayos cariocas
y sobre todo eran porteños
a nosotros nos daba mucha pena
verlos en la calle nostalgiosos y pobres
vendiéndonos recuerdos y empanadas

es claro son antiguas coyunturas
sin embargo señalo a lectores muy jóvenes
que graham bell ya había inventado el teléfono
de aquí que yo me instalara puntualmente a las seis
en la cervecería de la calle yatay
y desde allí hacía mi llamada de novio
que me llevaba como media hora

a tal punto era insólito mi lungo metraje
que ciertos parroquianos rompebolas
me gritaban cachádome al unísono
dale anclao en parís

como ven el amor era dura faena
y en algunas vergüenzas
casi insdustria insalubre

para colmo comí abundantísima lechuga
que nadie había desinfectado con carrel
en resumidas cuentas contraje el tifus
no exactamente el exantemático
pero igual de alarmante y podrido
me daban agua de apio y jugo de sandía
yo por las dudas me dejé la barba
e impresionaba mucho a las visitas

una tarde ella vino hasta mi casa
y tuvo un proceder no tradicional
casi diría prohibido y antihigiénico
que a mi me pareció conmovedor
besó mis labios tíficos y cuarteados
conquistándome entonces para siempre
ya que hasta ese momento no creía
que ella fuese tierna inconsciente y osada

de modo que no bien logré recuperar
los catorce kilos perdidos en la fiebre
me afeité la barba que no era de apóstol
sino de bichicome o de ciruja
me dediqué a ahorrar y junté dos mil mangos
cuando el dólar estaba me parece a uno ochenta

además decidimos nuestras vocaciones
quiero decir vocaciones rentables
ella se hizo aduanera y yo taquígrafo

íbamos a casarnos por la iglesia
y no tanto por dios padre y mayúsculo
como por el minúsculo jesús entre ladrones
con quien siempre me sentí solidario
pero el cura además de católico apostólico
era también romano y algo tronco
de ahí que exigiera no sé qué boleta
de bautismo o tal vez de nacimiento

si de algo estoy seguro es que he nacido
por lo tanto nos mudamos a otra iglesia
donde un simpático pastor luterano
que no jodía con los documentos
sucintamente nos casó y nosotros
dijimos sí como dándonos ánimo
y en la foto salimos espantosos

nuestra luna y su miel se llevaron a cabo
con una praxis semejante a la de hoy
ya que la humanidad ha innovado poco
en este punto realmente cardinal

fue allá por marzo del cuarenta y seis
meses después que daddy truman
conmovido generoso sensible expeditivo
convirtiera a hiroshima en ciudad cadáver
en inmóvil guiñapo en no ciudad

muy poco antes o muy poco después
en brasil adolphe berk embajador de usa
apoyaba qué raro el golpe contra vargas
en honduras las inversiones yanquis
ascendían a trescientos millones de dólares
paraguay y uruguay en intrépido ay
declaraban la guerra a alemania
sin provocar por cierto grandes conmociones
en chile allende era elegido senador
y en haití los estudiantes iban a la huelga
en martinica aimé cesaire el poeta
pasaba a ser alcalde en fort de france
en santo domingo el PCD
se transformaba en PSP
y en méxico el PRM
se transformaba en PRI
en bolivia no hubo cambios de siglas
pero faltaban tres meses solamente
para que lo colgaran a villarroel
argentina empezaba a generalizar
y casi de inmediato a coronelizar

nosotros dos nos fuimos a colonia suiza
ajenos al destino que se incubaba
ella con un chaleco verde que siempre me gustó
y yo con tres camisas blancas

en fin después hubo que trabajar
y trabajamos treinta años
al principio éramos jóvenes pero no lo sabíamos
cuando nos dimos cuenta ya no éramos jóvenes
si ahora todo parece tan remoto será
porque allí una familia era algo importante
y hoy es de una importancia reventada

cuando quisimos acordar el paisito
que había vivido una paz no ganada
empezó lentamente a trepidar
pero antes anduvimos muy campantes
por otras paces y trepidaciones
combinábamos las idas y las vueltas
la rutina nacional con la morriña allá lejos
viajamos tanto y con tantos rumbos
que nos cruzábamos con nosotros mismos
unos eran viajes de imaginación qué baratos
y otros qué lata con pasaporte y vacuna

miro nuestras fotos de venecia de innsbruck
y también de malvín
del balneario solís o el philosophenweg
estábamos estamos estaremos juntos
pero cómo ha cambiado el alrededor
no me refiero al fondo con mugrientos canales
ni al de dunas limpias y solitarias
ni al hotel chajá ni al balcón de goethe
ni al contorno de muros y enredaderas
sino a los ojos crueles que nos miran ahora

algo ocurrió en nuestra partícula de mundo
que hizo de algunos hombres maquinarias de horror
estábamos estamos estaremos juntos
pero qué rodeados de ausencias y mutaciones
qué malheridos de sangre hermana
qué enceguecidos por la hoguera maldita

ahora nuestro amor tiene como el de todos
inevitables zonas de tristeza y presagios
paréntesis de miedo incorregibles lejanías
culpas que quisiéramos inventar de una vez
para liquidarlas definitivamente

la conocida sombra de nuestros cuerpos
ya no acaba en nosotros
sigue por cualquier suelo cualquier orilla
hasta alcanzar lo real escandaloso
y lamer con lealtad los restos de silencio
que también integran nuestro largo amor

hasta las menudencias cotidianas
se vuelven gigantescos promontorios
la suma de corazón y corazón
es una suasoria paz que quema
los labios empiezan a moverse
detrás del doble cristal sordomudo
por eso estoy obligado a imaginar
lo que ella imagina y viceversa

estábamos estamos estaremos juntos
a pedazos a ratos a párpados a sueños
soledad norte más soledad sur
para tomarle una mano nada más
ese primario gesto de la pareja
debí extender mi brazo por encima
de un continente intrincado y vastísimo
y es difícil no sólo porque mi brazo es corto
siempre tienen que ajustarme las mangas
sino porque debo pasar estirándome
sobre las torres de petróleo en maracaibo
los inocentes cocodrilos del amazonas
los tiras orientales de livramento

es cierto que treinta años de oleaje
nos dan un inconfundible aire salitroso
y gracias a él nos reconocemos
por encima de acechanzas y destrucciones

la vida íntima de dos
esa historia mundial en livre de poche
es tal vez un cantar de los cantares
más el eclesiastés y sin apocalipsis
una extraña geografía con torrentes
ensenadas praderas y calmas chichas

no podemos quejarnos
en treinta años la vida
nos ha llevado recio y traído suave
nos ha tenido tan pero tan ocupados
que siempre nos deja algo para descubrirnos
a veces nos separa y nos necesitamos
cuando uno necesita se siente vivo
entonces nos acerca y nos necesitamos

es bueno tener a mi mujer aquí
aunque estemos silenciosos y sin mirarnos
ella leyendo su séptimo círculo
y adivinando siempre quién es el asesino
yo escuchando noticias de onda corta
con el auricular para no molestarla
y sabiendo también quién es el asesino

la vida de pareja en treinta años
es una colección inimitable
de tangos diccionarios angustias mejorías
aeropuertos camas recompensas condenas
pero siempre hay un llanto finísimo
casi un hilo que nos atraviesa
y va enhebrando una estación con otra
borda aplazamientos y triunfos
le cose los botones al desorden
y hasta remienda melancolías

siempre hay un finísimo llanto un placer
que a veces ni siquiera tiene lágrimas
y es la parábola de esta historia mixta
la vida a cuatro manos el desvelo
o la alegría en que nos apoyamos
cada vez más seguros casi como
dos equilibristas sobre su alambre
de otro modo no habríamos llegado a saber
qué significa el brindis que ahora sigue
y que lógicamente no vamos a hacer público
Paul Hansford Jan 2016
Take a group of chimpanzees
used to swinging through the trees,
and sit them down at keyboards in a row;
lots of paper, lots of ink,
lots and lots of time, I think,
and what the theory says I’m sure you know.

Yes, along with all the junk,
all the gibberish and bunk,
somewhere there’d be the full works of the Bard:
As You Like It, Cymbeline,
Richards 2 and 3, the Dream,
though Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, might be hard.

But I’m sure the little blighters
would get on fine with Titus
Andronicus
, The Taming of the Shrew,
The Moor of Venice (that’s Othello),
the other Merchant fellow,
and Antony and Cleopatra too.

The Winter’s Tale would hold no terrors,
nor The Comedy of Errors,
and Verona’s Gentlemen would turn out right;
Love’s Labour might be Lost,
or it might be Tempest-tossed,
but All’s Well That Ends Well, even on Twelfth Night.

Lear, King John, and Much Ado,
Henry 4, parts 1 and 2,
Henry 5, and 6 (in three parts), Henry 8,
Troilus, Timon, Measure for Measure,
Pericles (a neglected treasure)
and how Romeo and Juliet met their fate;

all the Sonnets, and the ****
of Lucrece
(typed by an ape!)
and if they worked for ever and a day
they could fit in Julius Caesar,
that Coriolanus geezer,
the Wives of Windsor, and the Scottish play.

I grew more and more excited –
even thought I might be knighted
if I could be the one to make it work.
But to realise my dream
I had to try a pilot scheme,
to prove I wasn’t just a reckless berk.

I bought one chimp from the zoo -
didn't have the cash for two -
and gave him a typewriter, just to try
for a short while. Well, a fortnight
was the time-scale that I thought right.
You see, I’m quite an optimistic guy.

Now everyone who heard
of my project said, “Absurd!”
when I told them of my striking new departure.
“Get a chimpanzee to type
the works of Shakespeare? Oh, what tripe!”
Still … he did produce the works of Jeffrey Archer.
Jeffrey Archer in Wikipedia: Whilst Archer's books are commercially successful, critics have been generally unfavourable towards his writing.
On another topic, in 2001, Archer was found guilty of perjury and perverting the course of justice. He was sentenced to four years' imprisonment. (More details if you read the article.)
Oh my sweet beloved do not shirk
Do not play with me do not irk
Do not use your beauty as a dirk
Take care and do not be a berk

Do not take my real love so light
You still have to see my real might
I love you for all day and all night
We can achieve real sublime height

 Have faith in me and let us glow
Love is ready to accompany and go
With sincerity love will have to grow
 In my veins your beauty is to flow

For your sake I can really sacrifice
For you sake I will pay all the price
Extend your hand and don't be bias
For our sake this will surely suffice

I promise I will always take you along
Rest assure I will sing your love song
With your beauty love will be strong
Surely to each other we relate, belong 


Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2015 Golden Glow
Big Virge Jul 2015
Why do people do ... ?
The things ... that they do ... ?!?
  
It's ...
Funny ... to me ... !!!
  
Is it ...
Funny ... to you ... ???
  
NOT ... !!!!! ...
Funny ... Ha Ha ... !!!!!
  
..... " Funny " ......
with ... NO LAUGHS ... !!!!!!
  
When people ... Do Things ...
That ... BREAK ... Peoples' Hearts ... !!!
  
Like Men ... BEATING Wives ... !!!!
Or .... Girls who .... "Connive" ....
  
See .....
These ... Are The People ... !!!
who lives are ... Contrived ... !!!
  
So ...
Why do they do it ... !?!
Their actions are ... STUPID ... !!!!
  
They Think ... they're ...
Sooooooo ... SMART ... !!!!
  
But ...
What's in their ... Heart ... ???
  
A vision of ... TRUTH ...
or a life of ... PURE FARCE ... !!!!!
  
I'm writing ... This Piece ...
cos' of ... something I Saw ... !!
  
A fight on ... my street ...
but hey ... What was the score ... ?!?
  
I'm just at home ... cooling ...
Watching ....  " Channel Four " ....
  
but ...
Next thing you know ...
I'm out the front door ... !!!
  
I hear a girl ... CRY ... !!!
Then see ... a white guy
who CLEARLY ... was ... FUMING ... !!!!!
  
I asked myself ... " Why " ... ???
  
Next thing you know ...
I hear a glass ... SMASH ... !!!
  
The girl ... and her child ...
were making a ... DASH ... !!!!!!!!
  
The White Guy ...
Still SHOUTING ... !!!!!
  
Picked up ... A BILLBOARD ... !!!!!!!!!!
  
and then tried to ... RAM IT ...
Right Through The ... Pub Door ... !!!!!
  
I figured ... " Maybe " ... ?
I should make a ... " Call " ...
  
But ...
This is the ... " Story " ...
of what I then ... SAW ... !!!!!
  
A pair of police ...
pulled up on the street ...
and grabbed the white guy ...
Like Butchers ... GRAB MEAT ... !!!!!
  
The white guy ... Complained ... !!!
and still wasn't ... " tame " ... !!!
  
and this is where ... " NUMBERS " ...
then entered  .... " The Game " ....
  
Next thing you know ...
NOT ... ONE Car or ... TWO ...
  
But ...
  
VAN Upon VAN ...
of ... MORE POLICEMAN ... !!!!!
  
The way they were coming ....
had people like ... Damnnnnnnnn ... !!!!!!!!
  
It took .....
SEVEN ... of them ... !!!!!
to control this ... ONE MAN ... ?!?
  
The rest of them ...
STOOD THERE ...
Just like a ... " Street Gang " ...
  
I took one ... " Aside " ...
  
and said ...
  
"Listen man, why ?
So many of you,
to restrain, this one guy ?"
  
He said,
  
"A one on one struggle
could leave someone hurt !"
  
I then bit my tongue ...
  
But thought ....

( SHUT UP, You Berk !!! )
  
But then ... one of them ...
Tried to ... Argue with me ... !!!
  
I said ....
  
"Look at your wagons,
just blocking my street !
It's simply, excessive !
Don't argue with me !
On my Thursday Night,
I don't want to see !
My road blocked with cars
cos' of, STUPID POLICE !
Your actions, as usual,
aren't necessary !"
  
Now I know they're ...
... " Peacekeepers " ...
  
But Hey ...
  
What's with police ... ???
  
In Fact ......
You know ... WHAT ... !!!
  
... The Police ... !!!!! ...
  
SEE ....
  
Why do they do it ?
Treat People like ... MEAT ... !!?!!
  
They are a ... " Factor "
in ... VIOLENT STREETS ... !!!
  
Don'y You ... all agree ... ???
  
Well ... whether you do ...
Let's make this ... COMPLETE ... !!!
  
What about people ...
Who do .... " Poetry " .... ?!?
  
I've been quite ... AMAZED ... !!!
by the number who ... " Teach " ...
  
and then ... get on the stage ...
with ... NONSENSE RIDDEN SPEECH ... !!!!!
  
I Fear ... for our children ... !!!!!
If ... people who teach ...
write poetry suited ...
  
For .... " ADULT TV " ....
Expletives in poems
and ... " Vulgarity " ... !!!!!
  
YES ... I use it TOO ... !!!!!
  
But i'm ...
  
NOT PAID ... to teach ... !!!
  
It seem that ... " Some Teachers " ...
NEED ..... " Dictionaries " ......
  
Now .....
You may not agree ... !!!
  
But ...
How would you feel ... ?
  
If your child was ... " Reliant " ...
on people who ... " Read " ...
  
Poetry written ...
About A ... " Barbie " ... !?!
  
These are ... The People ...
who think they can ... " Teach " ... ?!?
  
No wonder our children ...
are now ... " Human Sheep " ... !!!!!
  
My Wordplay's .....
More ............. " Lucid " ............ !!!
  
But ...
Many take ... " Pride " ...
In Proving They're ... STUPID ... ?!?
  
So here's my ...
LAST Question ...
  
" Why Do People ... Do It ... ??? "
The police story is an account of REAL EVENTS, from a time where I lived next to a pub in Ealing, West London, once know as The Grosvenor, and the police, due to 7/7 were coming en masse like thugs , to most calls to them at that time .....
David Bird Apr 2012
I am very bored.
My eyes are now sore.
On my desk is a cord,
Not sure what it's for.

I should now be working,
But my coffee has gone.
I shouldn't be shirking,
For the day must go on.

I am pressing my keys,
I am moving my mouse,
This comes with some ease,
But won't pay for my house.

I must now start my work,
I must now get me going,
I must not be a berk,
So code can start flowing.

But now I have written,
This daft little rhyme,
And I must say sorry,
For wasting both of our time.
jeremy wyatt Jan 2011
Got some hair upon my head
looks ok some girls have said
but if I stoop or look right down
wallop my bright gleaming crown!
A heli landing pad she says
and laughs at my next grumpy gaze
well knit me a wig, or maybe a hat
or cover it with a piece of mat!
We do felt making that could work
no I would look a ruddy berk....
Colour it in with a magic marker
do my grey so I go darker
Stop it all I've had enough
hirsutism proving way to tough
stick with what is clinging on
enjoy what's left before it's gone!
The weekend stretches out
like a loaf of fresh baked bread.
I want to cut myself a slice but
I'm poorly,
tucked up in my bed.

Life isn't fair
even when I'm in there,
I should get well and tell life
to go to hell.

I received a letter
from the doctor,
it said
'you're better,
back to work'
The doc's a berk.

In spite of it all
I think I will fall and
taste Saturday night,
take a slice from the Sunday and
drift back slowly
into
Monday
where the week stretches out and
I'll wonder what the weekend was
all about.
Emma Sims Aug 2015
I can hear my brain whirring.
Ticking.
Tocking.
Clocking.
To and fro.
Constantly swaying back and forth.
Echoes of woe.
Mental compass pointing anywhere but North.
Circling,
Like one lobe is shorter than the other.
This puzzle has confounded me;
Why won't it work?
Am I such a berk?
Writing a java program and I have hit a stumbling block.
Josh Morter Apr 2013
Tried to send some proper flowers
Went to post them, it didn't work.
Just left there waiting.
Petals strewn around me, felt like a right berk.
So here's the best I could manage to send you a birthday wish
Just some folded up paper in a flower shape
Oh yeh an a kiss... X
Written on 19/04/13 by Josh Morter ©

This was written to go along with an image of a homemade origami flower to send a birthday wish... to give a personal touch.
It went down well (I think)
Julie Grenness Jan 2017
I opened an envelope, not so hard,
Within, from nicotine there was a greeting card,
"Hello, Earthling, how are you?
Did you notice I am missing you?
Do you ever miss your old pal too?
Do you ever yearn for a packet of friends?
But they're only friends till the packet ends,
Or, maybe, your lighter doesn't work,
So you get frantic, like a berk,
Do you ever miss old nicotine?
We were friends from when you were a teen,
What? You gave up smoking?
You're glad? You must be joking!
Well, I'll say goodbye to you,
Old nicotine is missing you,
I wondered if you missed me too...."
Feedback welcome.
Maksim Nov 2017
Mind blasting with actions
Living up to the name of Maksim
I'll smash it while you crash it
I shiot to the moon while I blast it
Never wasting my time with humans lacking passion who stuck at the first station while I hustle to live in a mansion you chasing while Im embracing the chaos and Stand solid on the soil living royal as the ace with a strong base and never chase because I'm ahead of the race. Smoking purp in the Berk on the curb Staying high as we fly and surf Through the sky with the crown on my head, taking charge and staying ahead so I'll continue tomorrow because it's time for bed
Olivia Kent Jun 2016
The smartest of suits, short legged.
Attached to a pair of brightest white sneakers.
And I think it's going to rain again and the woman dressed in green, is the probably the prettiest I've ever seen, maybe she's Irish.
Like me she's on her way to work.
It's six a.m, but she doesn't look a berk.
Unlike the chap in the suit wearing brightest whitest trainers to work.
Me, in my navy blue trews with royal blue tunic, with a really long coat, to cover the garments, big trouble if I don't.
Work is often troublesome.
Yesterday no exception .
Think I'm going to be giving in.
Governed by finances,
Solo managed romances.
Think I need a rich man wearing bright white sneakers and classy suit.
(c)LIVVI
What a berk I am
full of nothingness
A universe inside my head is burning
And I see no shadow helping

I desire to pass intoxicant
for I feel no other escape

I am abrading my soul
wish I could wail And
Befriend with my death

They are teaching me to stand
And how to talk with neighbors
For this might be their home
But I do not feel this as my querencia

At least there will be something
I hope after my breath
Paul Hansford Aug 2019
Take a group of chimpanzees
used to swinging through the trees,
and sit them down at keyboards in a row;
lots of paper, lots of ink,
lots and lots of time, I think,
and what the theory says, I'm sure you know.

Yes, along with all the junk,
all the gibberish and bunk,
somewhere there'd be the full works of the Bard:
As You Like It, Cymbeline,
Richards 2 and 3, the Dream,
though Hamlet, Prince of Denmark might be hard.

But I'm sure the little blighters
would get on fine with Titus
Andronicus
, The Taming of  the Shrew,
The Moor of Venice (that's Othello),
the other Merchant fellow,
and Antony and Cleopatra too.

The Winter's Tale would hold no terrors,
nor The Comedy of Errors,
and Verona's Gentlemen would turn out right;
Love's Labours might be Lost,
or even Tempest-tossed,
but All's Well That Ends Well, even on Twelfth Night.

Lear, King John, and Much Ado,
Henry 4, parts 1 and 2,
Henry 5, and 6 (in three parts!), Henry 8,
Troilus, Timon, Measure for Measure,
Pericles (a neglected treasure),
and how Romeo and Juliet met their fate.

All the Sonnets and the ****
of Lucrece
(typed by an ape!),
and if they worked for ever and a day
they could fit in Julius Caesar,
that Coriolanus geezer,
the Wives of Windsor and the Scottish play.

I grew more and more excited ‒
even thought I might be knighted
if I could be the one to make it work.
But to realise my dream
I had to try a pilot scheme,
to prove I wasn't just a reckless berk.

I bought one chimp from the zoo
‒ didn't have the cash for two ‒
and gave him a typewriter, just to try
for a short while.  Well, a fortnight
was the time-scale that I thought right.
You see, I'm quite an optimistic guy.

Now, everyone who heard
of my project said, "Absurd!"
when I told them of my striking new departure.
"Teach a chimpanzee to type?
"Why, I never heard such tripe!"
Still . . . he did produce the works of Jeffrey Archer.
This is an old one of mine, which somehow strayed away from HelloPoetry. If it sounds familiar to you, you'll probably have read it before.  If it's new to you, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
Plusnet I hate you
You’re customer service is dire
You just tell me lies
I want to set you on fire

I’m no arsonist
But it’s been nearly a month
And still no flaming WiFi
Now I’ve really got the ****

And I know all about humps
As I was recently on a camel
And through that I’ve learned to hiss and spit
And p**s like these unruly mammals

I’ve conquered sand dunes
On the back of these beasts
And shall take you down too
If you persist giving me beef

Should’ve been last week
Now it’s going to be next
Stop moving the goal posts!
Can’t you see how I’m vexed?!

You say there’s a fault
On my line
That YOU disconnected
Then CHARGED me a fine!

You won’t refund me
Until it’s all been fixed
But fix it you can’t
You complete and utter *****!

I’ve spoken to OFFCOM
About my complaint
And drafted a letter
That clearly states

What berk’s you are
What incompetent buffoons!
To allow me to be slammed
Then rub salt into my wounds!

By making me pay
For the service I haven’t got
It’s laughable really
But I kid you not

So the saga continues:
I’m disconnected still
Hope you enjoyed the sequel
But to live I’m losing the will
Travis Frank Sep 2018
Worn rough from the sandpaper of your searing sight,
I resolved, “No more!”
No more gifts,
No more time spent in the cave of torture,
Hoping for the berk of your love to anchor in my heart.
No – not ever.

Still, the oil of your oestregen
Oozed in my veins,
Morphing the yonder of youth into a base, bashing beat,
Commercialising you
As ******* legs *******.
Your coyness choked Cupid’s chances.

Right, then. It went like this –
You were on the field with friends
So I spotted your unguarded satchel,
Bright blue and brown,
Still dressed in the mist of your perfume,
Beckoning me into its *****.

Accepting,
I lunged forward,
Clutching and fondling it.
Brown-noser Duduzile saw me, told me you were angry.
All I could offer was one explanation –
“I was shooing a grasshopper away.” I hate you.
Joseph Sinclair Jan 2022
Oh, Boris told such dreadful lies,
One just gazed wide-eyed at the skies,
Astounded at support from these
Parliamentary colleagues
Who rallied to their leader’s cause,
Secure in the male menopause.

Gove, Michael, who was quite gung-**
Wanted to believe him, though
In trying to maintain his credence
While avoiding intercedence
Got his knickers in a twist
Which hardly pleased a hedonist.
But may have done so, had not he
Been faced with obvious perfidy.
For once, towards the end of work
He realised that the stupid berk
Had joined a party out-of-doors,
Knowing there was nothing worse,
But given the alternative,
Was doggedly conservative.

While as for dear effete Rees Mogg
Whose mind was often in a fog,
Though evidently of good breeding,
Slept through parliament’s proceeding.
And in The Mogg Cast Jacob wrote
“Unquestionably” – and I quote:
“The PM is an honest man”.
What brave words from a loyal fan.

He seemed to share with Donald Trump
A failure to maintain the ****
Of his supporters who only lasted
So long as he felt they could be trusted.
Thus Priti Patel with whom, besotted
He must have been, for when she blotted
Her copy book, he kept her in
The Cabinet, despite a sin
That others, far beneath her station,
To leave had had no hesitation.

But once, towards the close of day
Hearing merry sounds of play,
Bojo took his health in hand
Ignoring rules from his command.
“No-one tells me what to do”
Quoth he, “I’m off to have a few.”
“Allow me, please, to beg your pardon
And join my colleagues in the garden.”

It was not long before a tide
Of censure came from every side.
From Kensington and Camden Town,
From Aberdeen and County Down.
The premier has been found out
As if there could be any doubt,
For, after all, his lying skills
Had long replenished the gristmills.

When young he suffered from glue ear
So, what he did not want to hear
In later life, he could ignore
And simply choose to underscore
His frequent absurd recklessness
On the misfortune of deafness.

At Oxford in the Bullingdon
His drunkenness was quite well-known.
His early exploits as a Yuppy;
Flirtation then with Darius Guppy.
As editor of the Sextator
With thanks, doubtless, to his Creator
More flirtations, some quite grave;
“Who, sir?  Me, sir?  I’m no knave”
But Petronella at his back
Could not avoid the sack by Black.
Earlier it was the Times;
Distortions were his major crimes.


And, finally, to Downing Street
Where the circle is now complete,
Surrounded by his faithful lackeys,
Standing up for the Iraqis,
Risking the enmity of *******
Whose Durham trip was unbecoming,
Though not condemned at all by Boris
As extinct as a brontosaurus.


His lies have not grown any sweeter
They’ve more in common with a foetor,
When embarrassment heads his way
He simply takes off for the day:
“Sorry for this Obfuscation
I have to go to King’s Cross station
To provide a possible disclaimer
For my absence from the Chamber.”
The zero hour is near no hour
or none that I'm aware of.

I know
when to wake
when to break
when to take a leak
( oops, we don't speak about that )
when to work
when to shirk
who's quite bright
and who's a berk,

but the zero hour has got me
stumped.
wolfgang Mar 2021
Berk.
Oh a place of miracles,
oh a place of dreams.
A place where i dreamt myself would be in all days and nights,
a place where i felt would have been the best place to live in.
Tho it snows nine months a year and hails the other three.
It is still a part of my dream.
poem dedicated to my favourite movie of all time, httyd :)

— The End —