"bloke" poems
Ye got to Fancy this Hearty Stout, Aye,
Soot-soaked with tub-flavoured Laurels of Gold
Now bloke-haste Juggers tick your nerves on-high
And make ye shout the Trumpet-Football-Fold
Yet so, our Celtic Spirit comes to call
For you to Jig their Post-Victorious Dance
Or, if upset, prefer to keep knees on hold
And hope such Font will get you that Romance
Still, never deny those After-Glugs won't count
In palling the Bet for Arsenal's Wear
Sudden Death Match will cause the Team to Mount
And show those Charbarrels a Reason to Tear.
Raise a Swig, to where there Brave Captains be
I take me Share, and drink the Sailor in me.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
I am a sailor lost at sea
Setting sail to the land of the free
I know not well where the winds will take me
But days, months, & years I will conquer
To be the sailor I am to be.
I am a sailor lost at sea
With my bow set straight to the dawn of light
Though my hull is struck by raging thunders
& churning waters
I will not yield!
I will not yield!
Oh, I am a sailor lost at sea!
Young a bloke I am
Much I have to learn from the winds that have taken me
I look up to the mast of my boat
To see the winds ripping through my sails
Oh how glorious it is to sail the waters below like the waters above
Surely I will not yield!
Oh, I am a sailor lost at sea!
I have seen the stars move about the vast ocean skies
With their light gently touching your eyes
Oh! how I am glad to be a sailor lost at sea
With these winds guiding me to be the
Sailor I am to be!
Oh, I am a glad sailor lost at sea!
Glory to you who guides me
For I can not see
Yet have shown me the sailor I am to be!
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
One Summer's night looking out the
back window at the back garden
My! I couldn't get over it, how bright it
was
You'd think the sun was still shining
The Big Moon casting its ghostly pallor
over everything
Like an Enchantress's dark spell
The strange cold beauty of it, it held
me enthralled
I could only stand there watching,
silently in awe;
Suddenly, a peculiar thought came
into my head
I smiled at its outrageous suggestion
Then grabbing my sunglasses and my
old deck chair
I went out into the garden and sat right down there underneath the stars
Bathing in the silvery light of the
moon's cold rays,
Well I tell you, all the night creatures
going about their night business
They all did a double take "Hey, that's the funny human bloke, what's he
doin' out this late",
Even the cat came over and rubbed her eyes," Wait a minute ", she said, " this isn't right, you're not supposed to
come out at night ":
Sensing their curiosity and their
general discomfiture
I lowered my shades and looking at them all gathered there in the shiny
bright dark, I said
" Don't worry gang, don't be alarmed,
no! don't be aghast
It's only.... well, it's only Great Art.
II
I don't know
But it seems
Wherever I go
Great Art is never far behind
In tow.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 8:25 AM UTC
SNOW FALLS
she wakes
to a morning
with no reason for living
cries in the mirror
to be
forgiven
puts on her make-up
takes off her clothes
sits there & bleeds
until she can’t feel
the blood in her veins
runs cold
the razor blade
bleeds
bleeds
the cat
cries
to be fed
the batteries in her Walkman
go dead
the Rachmaninov stops
a letter
she will never read
drops on the Welcome mat
a mobile
rings & rings &
...stops
a member of
a minor political party
looking for her vote
rings the doorbell twice
slips on the ice & ruins his coat
curses
a man laughs
at another man’s joke
it’s a big laugh...he’s a big bloke
laughter
invades the square
there’s a chill in the air
a friend calls for her
(to go on a blind date)
...she doesn’t hear
snow...
...snow...
...snow falls
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
Handbag~ 1994
exam timetable
£5 from my Mum
shiny key for the front door
fresh-mint chewing gum
Handbag~ 1998
keys for work
keys for home
£20 and a bit of change
photo of my best mate
and a bloke that's twice my age
lipstick~ lacy knickers
condoms~ ID card
ticket for a bus to town
UV sparkly stars
Handbag~ 1999
keys for work
keys for home
spare key for his flat
condoms~ contraceptive pills
No.7 powder-ivory/matt
VISA/Delta debit card
paper
gel ink pens
number of a bloke
who says our love
will never end
Handbag~ 2000
keys for work
keys for home
key for the gas meter
Teletubbies picture book
list of baby-sitters
new mobile phone
herbal teething gel
lipstick~ Anadin
vanilla impulse body spray
children's Nurofen
photo of my baby boy
really tiny socks
under-eye concealer
secret stash of chocs
Handbag~ 2002
keys for work
keys for home
pull-back-and-go car
baby wipes
mobile phone
estate agents' cards
picture of my little boy
list of things to do
Boots own brand pregnancy test
both windows coloured blue
Handbag~ 2005
keys for home
card from work
tissue full of tears
photo of my boy in school
that shows his gappy teeth
photo of my baby girl
and one of both of them
a ring that used to be my Mum's
Pro-Plus~ Diazepam
Handbag~ 2009
keys for work
keys for home
one SLIM~FAST bar
one Cadbury's wrapper
Haribo~ Calpol~ tissues
assorted Disney plasters
treasured stones~ special shells
sand and bits of twig
money to buy ice creams
photos of my kids
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 4:52 PM UTC
Me Nose knows da way she goes.
Da smells herb throws,
me Nose just knows.
Da smell kush gives.
Da way me lives.
Me Nose just knows.
'avin a ****
with a **** lovin' bloke.
enjoyin' da incense.
But me losing da essence.
Me Nose knows, but me eyes don't.
Me **** lovin' bloke,
who me was 'bout to ****
was not a gurl,
just a lyin' shmuck.
He was not a chick
'cause he had a ****
Me eyes now know
what me Nose knows.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
I'm not the talking type you know
(us men will understand;
the women have seen this
in their men)
and being the lonely bloke I am
I bought a parrot for company
and just two hours observing me
in my house
the parrot said to me:
"We ought to talk more..."
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Listen to the minority’s burden
There are more than you may see
Your idea of equality
Is quite different from what I believe
The facts are alive and well
And terribly ignored
By many common folk who can not tell
What all we’ve been fighting for
Listen to our burdens
They’ve been here all along
Since the pale folks came for us
And decided they knew where we belong
Listen to my burden
I am more than my ethnicity
But no one pays attention to my character
Thank you, oh dear society
I’m not here to do your math homework
Or be the punch line of your joke
Or be the one who is categorized
As a yellow, squinty-eyed bloke
We have countless burdens
So listen to what we say
Please stop your patterns of racist jokes and ignorance
And realize that change must begin today
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
************ the ego
tis seen as a trifle banal
the odd big cranial bloke
belongs to this cabal
tirelessly they stroke
the head to a maximal size
as the inflated phallus
doth give them such a rise
************ shall always be
their pastime of infatuation
as they are so in love
with the ego's glorification
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
#051416
Nauuhaw ako
Bitak-bitak ang lalamunan
Sabay lunok, iba ang indak ng tag-init.
Humiling ako
Sa bulsang gula-gulanit
Sa retasong sando
Sabay hanap sa munting kaluping
Singit sa maingay na sapatos.
Siyang nakikipagtagisan ng laway
Sa putik na binubuhusan ng langit.
Muli, nauuhaw ako
Pero sana'y mapawi ito
Ng mahika't eksperimento
Ng itim na likidong kumukulo sa lamig.
Taglamig, taglamig na takipsilim;
Yakap ko ang kapoteng maitim ang tagiliran.
May karatula sa kanto,
Kaya't napasugod ako sa pagkasabik.
Tangan ko pagbalik ang litro.
Magaspang ang mga kamay
Kaya't makapit ang bote sa mga daliri.
May karatula sa ikalawang kanto,
Tatlong kulay, pero hindi matukoy
Gabi'y makasarili, walang nais na kahati.
Ulap ay hinawi, kabiyak ang buwan at bituin.
Isang bloke ng yelo,
Yelong pinira-piraso
Binasag sa sementong kwadrado
Pahaba't may mga bumbilyang mamatay din.
Isang ihip lang ng hangin, lagas ang liwanag.
Isang basong walang laman,
Walang bahid ng pagsabon
Buhat sa mga nakasalansang na pagkatao,
Iba't iba ang pwesto,
May kanya-kanyang tambayan.
Tuluyan silang naging tambay na lamang.
Nauuhaw ako pero hindi ito napawi,
Mga kalapating pumapagaspas sa himpapawid,
Senyas pala ng paglisan.
Musikang hele patungong langit,
Pagtulog ko'y pahimbing nang pahimbing.
Nauuhaw ako, nauuhaw na naman ako
Pero pauwi na ako sa Tahanan,
Doon na makaiinom, magpapahinga na ako.
Paalam.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 10:31 PM UTC
Amanda was a Panda
She was a lovely lass,
Although she had two big black eyes,
She retained an air of class.
She ambled into the Bamboo Bar
To have lunch with Panda Pete one day,
And he looked into her eyes
And to her he did say.
"Oh Amanda with your big black eyes
Will you please be forever mine,
And promise that you will never
Let your panda arms entwine,
Any other bloke panda
In this bamboo land,
Please oh please Amanda,
You've got to understand
For me there is no other
You're the only girl for me,
You remind me of my mother,
And so we're meant to be,
Together as a couple we'll be
With our four eyes of black,
Oh darling please look at me
Why have you turned your back?"
She answered very clearly
She said "because Pete I'd rather,
Find another Panda really,
To be my childrens father."
Now Panda Pete was really sad
He felt total and utter rejection,
So he sloped off before he got mad,
To a future of dejection.
He slunk out of the Bamboo Bar,.
Back into the forest outside
And jumped into his panda car
And took off for a long lonesome ride.
Tom Higgins 07/05/2014
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
i love you,
fresh from
the shower.
glistening and wet,
smelling of aftershave.
"coolwater" by davidoff. often aslo sandlewood,
goat soap, from the local
farmers markets.
i love you,
dressed up smart.
in a brook's brother's way
dress pants and shirt,
blue linen vest.
johnny walker silk bow tie,
untied is best. then your twist,
(not as original as you think)
converse skaties, no socks
and bone bleached cuffs,
turned up.
i love you,
in your work gear.
just come home,
you smell of sweat.
clean and healthy,
always wood shavings
caught up, in your
unruly shaggy hair.
cargo shorts and
t-shirts,
that have seen,
many days of worksite wear.
size elevens in your hands,
those big feet and freaky toes
bare, ******* in the air.
i love you,
in board shorts and rashie.
rushing into the surf,
hand in hand.
with the energetic bundle
of love,
to which we gave birth.
it is not as though,
clothes made this man,
but boyohboy, you, frame them well.
it s the heart, the chuckle
the hands, the philosphy,
the clever, erudite, caveman,
the downright,
man-dumb bloke.
that endears, your heart to
mine.
it is, that you really listen
and take the time,
to make me feel and be,
phenomenal, wise, sensual
and beautiful beside.
i love you,
best, in my bed.
moving slow and sure,
undressed, silk and velvet.
as we express,
the reality of our love
and whisper words,
well known,
and cry to heaven above.
i love you,
then, here, now and eons
on.
even after the worlds
memory of us,
is nothing,
dust upon the breeze
our love,
will carry, forth
stardust on heaven's winds
and cries of our love and ecstasy
will birth worlds anew
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Smokey the bear had fought lots of fires,
he was a good guy, didn't have any priors.
But after so many years committed to the job,
Smokey started to feel as if he would sob
every time he got a message calling him back to work,
to put out a fire started by some drunken ****
No matter how many fires Smokey put out,
it never seemed to gain him any social clout.
His so called “friends” never invited him to hang
though all Smokey wanted was to be one of the gang.
They would hold fancy dances and dress in their best,
but poor lonely Smokey was never a guest.
He rented a tux and showed it to one guy,
who immediately retorted with quite the rude reply!
“Are you kidding,” he said, “Smokey tuxes aren’t for bears,
besides, you’d have to return it all covered in hair!”
“No,” the guy said, “It’s best you stay home,”
“Besides, I know you don’t mind hanging out alone!”
But Smokey did mind, he minded a lot,
and later that night, he had a brilliant thought.
“I’ll go to that party and show them, they’ll see,
you can’t just leave out a fun bear like me.”
However, Smokey's idea did not go as planned,
his first mistake being that he arrived in a van.
A van that looked like something a molester would use
while trolling the streets for a child to choose.
Smokey’s second mistake was his puke yellow tux,
the one he had bought for only two bucks.
When he finally entered people gasped in surprise,
unable to believe the strange thing before their eyes.
There Smokey stood, all covered in yellow,
holding a cane and top hat he thought made him quite the “fancy fellow.”
After a moment of silence there was a loud roar,
as laughing people asked, “What look were you going for?”
Embarrassed, Smokey tried to claim the whole thing was a joke,
Stuttering, “C’mon you guys know I’m quite the funny bloke!”
Eyes brimming with tears Smokey decided to leave,
but this embarrassed bear had something up his sleeve.
“I hate them,” he thought, standing outside,
and decided to make sure none of them would have a ride.
So he slashed all their tires while giggling with glee,
Thinking, "Now they’ll feel bad for laughing at me!”
But this was not enough, Smokey wanted to do more,
so he grabbed a gas can and started to pour.
He saturated the grass, the trees and the flowers,
and then sparked a fire that would burn on for hours.
This was one fire Smokey would not put out,
he simply stood, and then laughed as he heard the first shout.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
He struts through the street
With an arrogant stride
A staffy at his feet
Fills him with pride
Baseball cap on his head
Peak points in the air
Yea blood I'm hard
And I don't seem to care
Trackies and hoodies
Are the code of his dress
Big golden chains
Hang low on his chest
Sock's pulled up high
Above his designer boots
I'm a council house chav
So proud of me roots
I'm hard and I know it
And I'll rob ya of bread
Don't mess with me
Or you'll end up dead
His attitude stinks
Filth falls from his gob
With a chip on his shoulder
He don't want a job
But under the bravado
He's as quiet as a mouse
Living his life
From his council house
His mum is on drugs
His dad is long gone
No wonder this bloke
Turned out to be wrong
So show him some kindness
Just a friendly word
Might just be the the thing
That stops him doing bird
I somehow much doubt it
But its worth a try
Cause deep underneath
He's a friendly guy
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 3:16 AM UTC
Masters of the Universe,
three and some,
nearly four
months tween
me and you
that words
interchanged,
prayers,
asking for the answering job
which was handily God-to-Man
transferred, transfused
tween you and
me
a/k/a
Job...appropriately
you may recall
I was the bloke
who immodestly spoke,
asking any and all
circulating deities,
to tender
their resignations
post-haste,
immediately
for failure to do
the appointed rounds
well enough to this
human's satisfaction
now don't go high hopes expecting
a large confession
about how hard,
ya see it really is
tending the flock be...
nope
I ain't here to beg of you,
take this onerous
from my shoulders!
no, no, capitulation,
my track record
maybe not much better
than what went before,
but you know what I'm about to say,
cause you are perfect
well I still don't like
what satisfies your perfection definition
for my fellow humans,
so I'm keeping this job/Job,
for another few months,
cause I am.
Human
enough to know
that humans keep on trying
and you just gave up
and said let them do what they want
between human to human,
as long as they pay us obeisance
I put sins of
man to fellow man
as my número uno priority
and if the number of prayers diverted
back to you,
in your inbox receiving,
are just the
dues paying kind,
keep'em,
I got more important things to do...
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
I don't need any more than this,
as we cuddle close and softly kiss.
Your body warm your scented hair,
what more than this my love Is There.
The laughter playful in your eyes,
that speaks in truths and never lies.
The way your nose tickles my cheek,
making me laugh leaving me weak.
The way you nibble at my ear,
and whisper words to draw me near.
Your nails that leave their mark on me,
leaving me sore but happily.
You snuggle close and ask of me,
to hold you tight or set you free.
No force on earth could make me leave,
for I need only you to please believe.
A kiss a cuddle a laugh a joke,
is sometimes enough for any bloke.
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 8:00 AM UTC
writing with a broken pencil
how pointless
when the only connection I had on Valentine's
was wi-fi
and don't the vultures in this airport know
only one carrion allowed?
and no fresh fruit - so no pairs.
it's terrible, I know
but puns are my coping device
and you [every bloke in my youth] should never have tried to juggle
when you had no *****
but you left
so I'm all right now
and I amused myself
with silly strings of homophony
until I found someone
whose puns are even worse
than me
because you can't take a joke
that doesn't belong to you
it's all mind.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Clever minds that stretch
The many elements which live as our backdrop
Too often everyday is spoiled
By unnecessary people, gathering ammunition
For climbing invisible platforms of command
These are cast aside by simple smiles and welcomes
And it was.
Even if the task was invisible to me at first
My soul felt at home amongst these new work mates
My responsible position was underwritten
Given gravitas and a freedom to which I wasn't quite used
The time was charged with familiar but different
It was fraught but strangely healthier in paradox
The honest fight was taken with gestures of family proportion
Success had waned but the unity of 'knowing' was the strength
That continued to support that Company
In spite of the turmoil my personal facets were given air
To run and to adjust, to temper and to manage
Poor communication was completely disastrous
The confusion of three currencies
And the balance of understanding left us guessing
Never mind agreement or translation
Through all this, looking back my heart is lifted
Not by the freedom or the ability to achieve ...mostly,
It is the strength from our leader,
That calm, silver haired man
When many were distraught you kept us going
And fed us with hope and built our confidence,
Not always with the obvious
But gave us the ability to win through by believing ,
Believing in us and building back our motivation and teasing out
The raw infrastructure of our true capabilities
Never before has anyone, apart from my Mother
Believed in me as you did. To tackle the toughest of tasks
Anything that the industry, the public or our customers
Could throw at us, we dealt with it.
Sadly you could do nothing at the final demise but take the role
Of a father giving news of an aged relative sadly moved by
A force greater than yourself
I know had you the influence, the power and the funding............
You were always more than a boss Chris
Your transparent enthusiasm raised our spirits
And in times of worry I hope we lifted yours too.
I think of you often, thank you for being a friend
After we were no longer professionally connected.
I see your generous smile and your warm handshake
I can hear your laugh now
It's always a treat to catch up over a beer.
I now find you in my phone, in my photographs
But mostly in my heart for being a great bloke
You taught me so much.
Speak soon, with love, Max
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
WOMEN
I cast you out for pandering your ***
WOMEN
You are shameful
On you
I gift this hex:
*If you need to be the object of manly gratification
If you have no interest in the freedom or the liberation
Then your life will now be governed by the exploitation
A vessel pure and simple for man’s ***********
WOMEN
You are worthless
**** upon my shoe
Read between the lines my friend
Figure out the clue
For it is in here somewhere
Deep within this write
Nothing's ever as it seems
Nothing's black and white
WOMEN
Does a bloke walk round?
With his ***** hanging out?
Does he emphasize his testicles?
Does he bandy it about?
I think you know the answer
Just stop and use that brain
Then maybe in the future
Equality will rightly be reclaimed
But all the time you flaunt your ****
****** you ***** in their face
You, my friend
To the sisterhood
**Are a ******* skanky **** disgrace**
Wake up and smell the Costa
For conditioning is wrong
You need to understand
You cause The Cause to be prolonged
This is my stand
I hold my own
I’m never fazed
By stick nor stone
For I know deep within my heart
The value of my worth
I will never sell my principles
For merriment or mirth
**So … please …. just take a moment
To digest
The words within this write
Unharness faux benevolent blinkers
Because this is our absolute pre-emptive right**
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 4:31 AM UTC
Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian,
got this queasy feeling on the line reeling,
coming undone at the same time wound up and spun,
I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing,
want to throw myself up out of myself,
can escape every position except the one I’m in,
can’t escape yourself if knowledge is wealth,
then I’m loaded & still spending my winnings,
got Karma Credit but I’m morally cash poor,
because I just fckt my girlfriend as if she was a *****
and I feel terrible or rather horrible about it,
because i think I’m infected by what neglect did without a cure,
no one is pure,
at least I’m not that’s for sure,
I'm tainted with devils in my head painted with what I spilled I’m red,
sick with the sort of illness that can't easily be cured,
in fact got a bad case of the blues,
but instead of strumming a guitar I’m taking things too far,
cut her so bad with my fingernails,
that I fear it might leave a few scars,
tied her up so tight,
that her wrists turned purple,
see she’s attracted to bad boys,
and I warned her that that’s the type of attraction that can hurt you,
little girl shouldn’t be out past her curfew,
nothing good ever happens past midnight,
but we’re both running from something,
both stand outs in the in crowd still something doesn’t sit right,
I’m uncomfortable,
because I think maybe all humans are disgusting,
maybe we just cause each other pain and trash the earth’s surface,
maybe we deserve to feel guilty & that’s why we are all fcking distrusting,
maybe I’m gonna fckn **** myself,
but this is a card game so then again maybe I’m bluffing,
maybe everything’s going to be alright,
maybe I’m being uptight for nothing,
but I’ll tell you what I feel like the **** of my own joke,
but I don’t give a fck so instead of changing I’m just shrugging,
mean mugging every person I pass suspicious of every bloke,
because these days crime pays and everyone’s always up to something,
and I just want to get ghost,
but I can’t and I guess that’s the way it goes,
so I’m sittin’ in the uncomfortable position,
of being both a role model as well as a criminal,
Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian,
got this queasy feeling on the line reeling,
coming undone at the same time wound up and spun,
I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing…
∆ LaLux ∆
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
Living on borrowed time
Decision at drop of a hat
Down an empty vandalized street, I walk
through the horror of silence
and silence of serenity
perdurable pathway of life
The ghastly sights
and the rustling gates
scattered people with unknown tastes
emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words
void is profound
down the perdurable pathway of life
Bifurcated roads upfront
my perception, one to hell and one to heaven
the other end of roads, a mystery
I stood there comprehending, while
my mind harks back to before I came
down the perdurable pathway of life
Endurance of a toiler
Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer
pain and suffering he undergoes for common good
loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships
sincerity and humbleness of the bloke
will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life
Deprived of education
desolated on streets laboring
disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury
fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile
The kid's love and determination, will inspire me
down the perdurable pathway of life
Spurn love took her down
Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits
killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality
not a wise choice, but courageous
I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide
Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life
Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest
Reality speaks otherwise
Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought
conscious and hard choices right ahead
The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell?
I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
a tumblr full of rocks
a pour of ichiro malt
and a stir
gan bei
and
ichi
to the yamazaki and nikkas
i am in the land of the sun
i go down to the land of the dead
mei hi ko
anejo
casa amigo,
to my brothers in arms
jose, i must have my agave
cheers to the alamo
to the land of the prohibition
kentucky
yippee kay yay
bourbon,
spicy rye kick
spur to the horse
giddy up, giddy up
riding off into the sun
set to kentucky
derby
bourbon
ballentines
tom ford west
make your mark
with maker’s mark
bottoms up
and now i am staggering
vichi patia
better than grey goose
aunt jiin
and all the cult gin
navy strength and **** juice
getting rowdy
like irish bloke jameson
and that **** scot
macallan
and his gang
oiban, glenfiddich, and
glenlivet
I am livid
at that son of a *****
son of peat
another round
i am monkeying around
monkey 47
sun set
sun rise
*** on the beach
i see kings and queens
louis thirteen
i am going to sleep
pappy van winkle
100 years
like rip van winkle
don’t wake me
stir and not shaken
good night, mama
sweet havana
neat
a shot of don papa
i go to sleep
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
The thing about dancing,
Is that it surely was invented post the 'mighty invention of music'
The might of music was such,
That the then tensile souls couldn't do much
And when some ******* back in the day
Thought he could probably get away
With being cheesy, without getting hit by a rock,
If he put down his words in a tune and wore a dancing frock
Whilst he was going at it on a cheese license, trying to compose a 'song',
This other bloke from down the road wondered where this
'sound' is coming from?
The music got to him, for he was the first to hear it apart from it's maker
He growled and stood up, to put his ale down in a magic shaker
And so he thought his colon would erupt
If he didn’t tap his feet to it with that ale he supped,
Completely unaware of the fact that shaking his head would be
soon to follow,
And so to speak, rest of his body, headed in a direction
that seemed perfectly hollow
And thus he made some gravity defying moves one after the other,
Hitting stacks of bread he just yelled, "Happiness rediscovered"
That piteous drunk soul was unaware that it would go on to
be know as ‘dancing’
If he were smarter or sober, he could have told it to the world himself with pride while prancing
What made him do it? Probably the music, probably he got laid twice the previous night,
Or his ex got divorced, yeah that would really end the fright
So he pounced on some meat and again shook his *****
Like he owed it to the world, like it was his duty
Whatever was the reason, in that magic season
The consequences of it gave us dancing & made mankind elevate
It was henceforth branded as a gesture to celebrate.
So let’s.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
I took her for some fish and chips,
We had a reight good time.
The two of us kept locking lips,
It really int a crime.
But then she saw this pilot bloke:
It really wasn’t fair.
Though I’m a super Trekkie clerk,
She saw me as a square.
What she saw in him I’ll never know,
There really was no reason.
But off she went with him, oh no!
It felt just like a treason.
Those fish and chips are getting cold,
With no-one there to eat ‘em.
Them mushy peas have gone to waste, be told,
But she prefers to cheat ‘em.
There are more fish in the sea they say,
And now I’m talking females.
Every dog will have his day,
I’d better watch my emails.
Paul Butters
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was,
That 'Un I got so slick.
I couldn't see 'is face because
The night was 'ideous thick.
I just made out among the black
A blinkin' wedge o' white;
Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack --
The man I killed last night.
I wonder if account o' me
Some ***** will go *****
And 'eaps o' lives will never be,
Because 'e's stark and dead?
Or if 'is missis damns the war,
And by some candle light,
Tow-headed kids are prayin' for
The Fritz I copped last night.
I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why
I 'ad that 'orful dream?
I saw up in the giddy sky
The gates o' God agleam;
I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine
Wiv everlastin' light:
And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine,
As 'e got 'is last night.
Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists
Where spawn the mother stars,
I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists
Upon them golden bars;
I 'ammered till a devil's doubt
Fair froze me wiv affright:
To fink wot God would say about
The bloke I corpsed last night.
I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair,
When, like a rosy flame,
I sees a angel standin' there
'Oo calls me by me name.
'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes;
'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled;
And through the gates o' Paradise
'E led me like a child.
'E led me by them golden palms
Wot 'ems that jeweled street;
And seraphs was a-singin' psalms,
You've no ideer 'ow sweet;
Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round
Than peas is in a pod,
'E led me to a shiny mound
Where beams the throne o' God.
And then I 'ears God's werry voice:
"Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear.
Stand up and glory and rejoice
For 'im 'oo led you 'ere."
And in a nip I seemed to see:
Aye, like a flash o' light,
My angel pal I knew to be
The chap I plugged last night.
Now, I don't claim to understand --
They calls me Bonehead Bill;
They shoves a rifle in me 'and,
And show me 'ow to ****
Me job's to risk me life and limb,
But . . . be it wrong or right,
This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im,
The cove I croaked last night.
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