"bonks" poems - Hello Poetry

Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Bumming your fat knobs and insert your helmet naked and unashamed Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Kicking off kick-off, cyborgs brought face to face Tartan sunstroke and may Mumbo Jumbo's **** all lie among you Nine, eleven, seven, thirteen, six, quinquereme, ******** ********* Tweedledum and Tweedledee, unsocial person, erectoffensive! This is Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom You've really ****** the naval officer And the hatchet faces want to know whose blouses you abuse Now it's time to evacuate the ******* if you have a free hand This is Lance Corporal Tom to Masticated Ectoplasm I'm fancy dress dancing through the cat—flap And I'm groping inside a swollen grotesque sailor And the plums look gigantically unusual nowadays Ergo from Land's End to John o' Groats am I piddling in a crumpet slammer Telescopic hindward the lump Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with With the proviso that I'm Ichabod celibate centipede sextillion heads I'm fondling vigorously paparazzo And I think my sputnik knows which direction to **** Tell my ballbreaker I ****** her vigorously for England, she bonks Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Your menstrual cycle's kaput, there's oojakapivvygizmo spleen Can you smell me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you get to the bottom of me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you delve into me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you... From Land's End to John o' Groats am I vibrating ring my crumpet criminal lunatic asylum Telescopic hindward the groupie Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with

0

Mar 27, 2010

Mar 27, 2010 at 4:22 PM UTC

irma-cerrutti

******* Type Transvestite

Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Bumming your fat knobs and insert your helmet naked and unashamed Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Kicking off kick-off, cyborgs brought face to face Tartan sunstroke and may Mumbo Jumbo's **** all lie among you Nine, eleven, seven, thirteen, six, quinquereme, ******** ********* Tweedledum and Tweedledee, unsocial person, erectoffensive! This is Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom You've really ****** the naval officer And the hatchet faces want to know whose blouses you abuse Now it's time to evacuate the ******* if you have a free hand This is Lance Corporal Tom to Masticated Ectoplasm I'm fancy dress dancing through the cat—flap And I'm groping inside a swollen grotesque sailor And the plums look gigantically unusual nowadays Ergo from Land's End to John o' Groats am I piddling in a crumpet slammer Telescopic hindward the lump Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with With the proviso that I'm Ichabod celibate centipede sextillion heads I'm fondling vigorously paparazzo And I think my sputnik knows which direction to **** Tell my ballbreaker I ****** her vigorously for England, she bonks Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Your menstrual cycle's kaput, there's oojakapivvygizmo spleen Can you smell me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you get to the bottom of me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you delve into me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you... From Land's End to John o' Groats am I vibrating ring my crumpet criminal lunatic asylum Telescopic hindward the groupie Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with

33

We doh cur fer fancy werters Bring us bangers in mashed terters Gie us pork-pie caressed wi mustard Rhubarb crumble topped wi custard If yo’ve got a full day werkin Black-pudding, eggs, beans and bercon Un doh keep saying, ‘it’ll do ya no gud!’ We wont loads o’ graerty pud If yo’me hungry jus the job A great big hondfull of suetey gob Grannies rice-puddin wi a gob o’ jam Branston pickle on hunied-ham Fish-un-chips wrapped in old newsperper Ma’s bread puddin, nah that’s the cerper Un if yo’ve got a babby-sitta Wash it daen wi Bonks’s bitta Black-Country fowk doh wont fancy starters We wont bercon wie grey farters!

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Oct 4, 2011

Oct 4, 2011 at 1:48 PM UTC

colin-john-nicholls

Bostin Fittle

We doh cur fer fancy werters Bring us bangers in mashed terters Gie us pork-pie caressed wi mustard Rhubarb crumble topped wi custard If yo’ve got a full day werkin Black-pudding, eggs, beans and bercon Un doh keep saying, ‘it’ll do ya no gud!’ We wont loads o’ graerty pud If yo’me hungry jus the job A great big hondfull of suetey gob Grannies rice-puddin wi a gob o’ jam Branston pickle on hunied-ham Fish-un-chips wrapped in old newsperper Ma’s bread puddin, nah that’s the cerper Un if yo’ve got a babby-sitta Wash it daen wi Bonks’s bitta Black-Country fowk doh wont fancy starters We wont bercon wie grey farters!

18

A selection of limericks There was a young lass from the Bronx Whose ******* make fearful honks She sounds like a car When she puts on a bra And the geese gather round when she bonks ----------------- Father Alexander McMackett Ran a ruthless religious racket When taking collection He'd offer protection Salvation could cost you a packet ----------------- A carrot named Archibald Nation Had feathers in high numeration He was labelled as veg By a grocer called Reg With a dubious qualification ----------------- A sculptor named Arnold Duprees Carved a **** plug from parmesan cheese He lamented his luck When it melted and stuck But he fired it out with a sneeze ----------------- Knights in the armour of old Have little to keep out the cold For they dress as the Scots In thier tenderest spots Which encourages rust and then mould ----------------- Oh ***** you make my knees quiver You chemical lethargy giver You tickle my tongue And pickle my brain Then you jump up and down on my liver ----------------- A Fella named Ricky De Gaul Had seventeen ******* in all They called him De Chesty But with only one ***** It should have been Ricky De Ball

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Apr 5, 2013

Apr 5, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC

ben-jones

A Selection of Limericks

A selection of limericks There was a young lass from the Bronx Whose ******* make fearful honks She sounds like a car When she puts on a bra And the geese gather round when she bonks ----------------- Father Alexander McMackett Ran a ruthless religious racket When taking collection He'd offer protection Salvation could cost you a packet ----------------- A carrot named Archibald Nation Had feathers in high numeration He was labelled as veg By a grocer called Reg With a dubious qualification ----------------- A sculptor named Arnold Duprees Carved a **** plug from parmesan cheese He lamented his luck When it melted and stuck But he fired it out with a sneeze ----------------- Knights in the armour of old Have little to keep out the cold For they dress as the Scots In thier tenderest spots Which encourages rust and then mould ----------------- Oh ***** you make my knees quiver You chemical lethargy giver You tickle my tongue And pickle my brain Then you jump up and down on my liver ----------------- A Fella named Ricky De Gaul Had seventeen ******* in all They called him De Chesty But with only one ***** It should have been Ricky De Ball

42

In tranquility we sit, effervescent beverages in hand as the descant moves into the mix. So mellifluous... So promiscuous in whom it touches... Hoping to stupefy the audience with its flawless and free life. Until our enjoyment is shortened by the loud clomping from outside our autonomous dwelling... Something outside bonks into the ground before a silhouette breaches our safety and our eternity is threatened with...

0

Aug 17, 2011

Aug 17, 2011 at 10:00 PM UTC

nathan-douglas-day

In Tranquility We Sit.

In tranquility we sit, effervescent beverages in hand as the descant moves into the mix. So mellifluous... So promiscuous in whom it touches... Hoping to stupefy the audience with its flawless and free life. Until our enjoyment is shortened by the loud clomping from outside our autonomous dwelling... Something outside bonks into the ground before a silhouette breaches our safety and our eternity is threatened with...

13

I count the hours in diapers, wipes, formula and tiny prepackaged jars of mashed food. I count the weeks in early morning babble, and bedtime stories. In cuddles. I count the months in doctors appointments and milestones; first teeth, rolling, talking, crawling, walking. I count my heart beats when they stop because of tumbles, rolls and kabonka bonks. I count my smiles in discovery, first aided and unaided steps; when small things to me seem so big and new to him. I count my tears in sleepless nights, upset tummies, and runny noses. But if you ask me the time, or what day it is, I won't be able to tell you. Because I count time in moments. They go by so fast, and if I stop to blink or give you the time I will miss them.

0

Dec 6, 2014

Dec 6, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC

mary-generic

Baby Days

I count the hours in diapers, wipes, formula and tiny prepackaged jars of mashed food. I count the weeks in early morning babble, and bedtime stories. In cuddles. I count the months in doctors appointments and milestones; first teeth, rolling, talking, crawling, walking. I count my heart beats when they stop because of tumbles, rolls and kabonka bonks. I count my smiles in discovery, first aided and unaided steps; when small things to me seem so big and new to him. I count my tears in sleepless nights, upset tummies, and runny noses. But if you ask me the time, or what day it is, I won't be able to tell you. Because I count time in moments. They go by so fast, and if I stop to blink or give you the time I will miss them.

7

Dead, outdated, old, torn, faded Shredded like cheese and fried like bacon This particular cluster of mustered up star junk Thought he hit rock bottom, then he sunk What poor luck Catch him on the breeze, going easy Like a silent **** Can't get a start *** he ****** on all the Fire sparks A bag of bones, regret, dusty reminiscings Of things that weren't quite what they seemed Hear him clearly... For he is half deaf. He would have more now If he had but a fraction of what he left behind. Look him in the eyes but he won't look back. He's starting to see knives more like thumb tacks Post your problem right next to the spine. Maybe he could feel it but his brain is numb Strung up and dumbed down, A real ****** conundrum ...He has no hooks to spit They tell him the bait choice is sick But hardly any fish ever bit So he sits in the sinking pit Throwing rocks Timing the bonks with the tick tocks. Some say he'd really **** time if he had the chance All the mind's romancin' reminds him of failed plans He can't stand and see around, When they told him to break a leg He broke both just by casually leaning on em. Seasons plot them uniform catastrophes; Explosions of flowers weeds bugs trees, all so casually. Compare that to this extremely sophisticated being Flailing at every turn, constantly miscommunicating. It's funny. A divine comedy. He begs the world "try me" Then sits back n relaxes, crumbling the ivory tower Just to build another one, then another, then Cannibalize the next for another, self perpetuating blunder

0

May 3, 2017

May 3, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC

Pest

Yes.

Dead, outdated, old, torn, faded Shredded like cheese and fried like bacon This particular cluster of mustered up star junk Thought he hit rock bottom, then he sunk What poor luck Catch him on the breeze, going easy Like a silent **** Can't get a start *** he ****** on all the Fire sparks A bag of bones, regret, dusty reminiscings Of things that weren't quite what they seemed Hear him clearly... For he is half deaf. He would have more now If he had but a fraction of what he left behind. Look him in the eyes but he won't look back. He's starting to see knives more like thumb tacks Post your problem right next to the spine. Maybe he could feel it but his brain is numb Strung up and dumbed down, A real ****** conundrum ...He has no hooks to spit They tell him the bait choice is sick But hardly any fish ever bit So he sits in the sinking pit Throwing rocks Timing the bonks with the tick tocks. Some say he'd really **** time if he had the chance All the mind's romancin' reminds him of failed plans He can't stand and see around, When they told him to break a leg He broke both just by casually leaning on em. Seasons plot them uniform catastrophes; Explosions of flowers weeds bugs trees, all so casually. Compare that to this extremely sophisticated being Flailing at every turn, constantly miscommunicating. It's funny. A divine comedy. He begs the world "try me" Then sits back n relaxes, crumbling the ivory tower Just to build another one, then another, then Cannibalize the next for another, self perpetuating blunder

40