"chavs" poems
Moon zoos zoos on the moon in white man spaceship zoos on moon,
earth chavs chavs on the earth in a burberry chav ship chavs on the earth,
sun ***** ***** on the sun in racist spaceship ***** on the sun.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
Those cosmopolitan provincials sorts
the chavs, yobs, yobbesses and oiks with semolina for brains
them retro-grade grade-less sub-humans bottom feeders
who think Cardiff is in East Angular and Magaluf is Eden
and Higher Education begins in Borstal or a stint at HM Prisons
found by happenstance a tin of Caviar
something they'd never seen before
with the curiosity of practiced thieves
they proceeded to examine its worth
'its a tin of hair gel says one'
'No, no, no says another, I think its something you eat'
'it says Caviar Royal Beluga, observes another'
'throw it away, anything with a name like that is rubbish'
'Beluga...some foreign muck, it look dark and oily'
'yea mate, look like **** throw it away'
One of the dis-advantaged rabble with one O'level in Carpentry
took a closer look
'look he says, there's sticker on the bottom that reads
Caviar Royal Beluga – 1kg £3,780.00'
Hahahaha they all roared in ceaseless mirth, hahaha
'some joker is having a laugh, pull the other leg, fancy...
a tin of black gunge in some slimy stuff cost three grand,
must think people are born yesterday, Beluga..fuckoffluga'
And with that, they tossed the tin away and walked off
laughing like *********
Ignorance is a disease, ignorance is bliss
will vandals extol the sheer magnificence of a Constable
or see anything other than a chair in a Chippendale ribbonback chair,
will Barbarians shed a tear on hearing the sensuous notes of Chopin or shiver at the graceful notes of Debussy or melt in sheer
adoration as Tchaikovsky's romance soars in magical resonance.
Will cosmopolitan heathens gape in mesmerizing wonder on
seeing Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel and praise God for being alive
So who has great expectations of our dear cosmopolitan provincials sorts
those chavs, yobs, yobbesses and oiks with semolina for brains
for in disparaging excellence
and rubbishing the noble and the exceptional
they make us appreciate more that we are blessed
and privileged
and do not have
semolina for brains
hey!
who would like some caviar
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 6:40 AM UTC
Crowds gathered and the noise of disobedience shook the neighbourhood whole. I was in the southern part of the city, where sinners sinned and the practitioners groomed the bars and off licenses solely to quench their thirst for liquor. It was almost midnight and hordes of young and old alike chanted and sung merry making song that rang through city; and what a noise it was. And it was on this night I met a lad who dressed as if the night belonged to him. A tall, slender fellow who hadn’t a care in the world. His Caribbean afro would bob up and down as we giggled to anecdotal stories of the past. We were rebels of the night, breaking away from the fragile unity that was the friendship circle.
A few stragglers in the form of Chavs had joined. Many of them formed bonds with the pretty girls, rivalling us out in the end. Deciding momentarily on what our next plan was, we split away from the group and continued midnight drinking into the Holy Lands. We could hear the barking of neighbourhood dogs tangle with the distant explosions of fireworks in the sky. It was beautifully chaotic. But as midnight sinners it was like music to our ears.
“I’m off mate, take care of yourself.” The fellow said as he guzzled his last remainder of his bottled Budweiser.
“You heading home, aye?” I smirked, clearly egging him on to stay out just a tad longer. But, this was to be it. With a hug and a good luck, he was off, towards the mystic backstreets and towards the Ormeau Road. I never caught the young lad’s name, nor did I ever catch his age. It was a strange meeting between the two of us. As if, for one singular night we knew everything about each other yet knew nothing at all. I recall sitting back down on the sidewalk and smiling, before looking up towards the decorative sparkly night sky. And, what turned out to be a spontaneous and random night ended up as a completed final chapter, to a superb little story.
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 8:06 AM UTC
I walked in the park
To put myself right with the world.
I thought, ‘I’ve worked all day
I owe myself this time.’
Mid August and the late afternoon sun
Was already peering through the trees.
Was already forming lengthy shadows,
I thought, ‘Summer is on the wane
And there’s been so little of it.’
Away across the valley
The city is winding itself up up
For a Saturday night.
Lights twinkle and boom boom
Of the bass bins in the boots
Of the chavs’ motors boom boom.
Then the sirens start and the girls shriek.
Over the hill, past the lake,
And into the Rose Garden
Empty but for an elderly couple
Strolling strolling under the canopies of roses
The shade gloriously dark green
The shade so inviting to sit and watch
The geese launch into their evening flight
To scatter over the chestnut trees and away.
I sit where I’ve sat these many years
Usually alone, and at this hour,
And in this season resting in the perfume
Of Meg Merrilies and Harrison’s Yellow.
And now you’re here! I see you
Walking through the Gate of Two Storks,
Past the glasshouse with its cacti and vines,
To sit beside me with your brightest brightest smile.
I am so full of happiness in this day-time dream.
I am so full of happiness you are sitting here.
Your voice is a real as the rustle of your dress.
You rest your left hand on my right arm
And gently so gently stroke the golden hairs
Towards my fingers oh so gradually.
I hear the sweet breath of you,
I smell the sweet scent of you,
You are my dearest dream
My heart’s companion, my gentle lover,
My dearest dearest friend.
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 4:22 AM UTC
The alarm tolls,
On their rude device-
It's time for work
& yet still, despite
the thousand fascets
of one reality
These
middle-aged
Half-life(s),
These Newbrunswickin Chavs
Wouldn't recognize, really,
That Despite
the riddle's answer, Being E;
& that double decade,
One might have over me,
When direct
Questions
go unanswered; The respect
I require
(now unvield)
Shapeshifts,
Off, into the past
Oh, how I become
The Whip
Ruthlessly;
they crack
The Whip
& with
All that I am,
the past, In desperation, I forcefully trick
As the blackness, of my being
Forms a darkness, spilling thick.
Engulfing light- mind's eye's Unseeing,
Consumes oneself, like a candles wick -
Illuminating every route (for fleeing)
For me, the lights still on- homesick.
Forcefully, faithfully; to keep on believing, & even
just to keep the pathway lit- by headlight, sunbeam, or doomscrolling trip-
Understand why might a human being
'S now become The Whip
Apr 14, 2024
Apr 14, 2024 at 7:52 PM UTC
In the split of the separateness
enjoyed by the desperate in
their loneliness,
where her highness looks down on them
are the men called the building blocks.
.
These are the men that roll with the knocks
the men who say, ******** to you.
The navvies,the chavs,the spivs,
they're the lads that raised up this nation,
the ones we owe a due to.
Whitehall wizards.
The chinless and spineless in black suits are mindless
and we gave them carte blanche,
brought down an avalanche on our heads,
these are the saintly who praise me,
lie to and patronise me,
politicians are slimy
they remind me
of worms,
they take like the snakes that they are
and no doubt they'll go far.
We only see them as He Men,because
we've been hypnotised by
the old school ties, which tell even
older lies
I despise them all.
***** Whitehall and the mandate
become the revolution before it's
too late.
Here in the split
I don't give a ****
they can all **** orf
and leave me alone.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
On Camera
My life is like a movie
Seeing that replica Mustang roll in and crash at the airshow
My life is like a movie
Witnessing an ex dealer who'd just been shot in his home
My life is like a movie
Viewing Oldham riots on TV that were five minutes away
My life is like a movie
Gazing down upon Manila Bay at the enduring sunrise from Bataan
My life is like a movie
Observing different people and cultures in a dozen countries
My life is like a movie
Glancing at my thigh as the tattooist inks my goth girl tattoo
My life is like a movie
Noticing the Mancunian drunks fighting on the nightbus home
My life is like a movie
Gaping in desolation at the coffin that contains my mum
My life is like a movie
Watching the mad Irish man loop the Grumman Duck in Murphy's Law
My life is like a movie
Admiring the **** girls I've nailed in the big bakery
My life is like a movie
Scrutinizing the Asians to see if they'll try to assault me
My life is like a movie
Eyeballing my soon to be ex friend who's kissing my girlfriend
My life is like a movie
Focusing on the road ahead as I illegally race the other car
My life is like a movie
Staring at the men lying by the kerb wondering are they dead?
My life is like a movie
Studying the vertical cliff above me to find a way up
My life is like a movie
Peering into the sky to find my dad's ghost that's up there
My life is like a movie
Scanning at my wage slip to see if my pay will cover my beer and bills
My life is like a movie
Regarding my mate who just vomited up his kebab and chips
My life is like a movie
Glimpsing the chavs fighting the teenage couple over the river
My life is like a movie
Right till my last breath and final vision when my Goddess takes me home
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
Our Cabral of oiks, hicks, chavs, criminals and Unions of Imbeciles
them professional bullies who gather Momentum with lies
and are conceived in hate as love in hovels do not exist
and pennies do not fall from heaven every mouth is a worry
and the coal mines are closing down and education is one less wage
decides that the Louis the fourteen, with a black face is the enemy
for that sunshine king just shines two ****** much
and his opulence and wealth was food from Scotch Jimmy's mouth
so as one does when soots are even richer than the Chimney-sweep
and live in castle full of earned treasures from the troves of Ivories
the die is cast and we call in the gang for majority rules in Hades
and Chalky and Wally and all chavs and 'Am I bovvereds' unite
that Sun King Soot is human no more, this is revolution as in war
the ******** have taken over and heaven help any traitors.
and I yawned and laughed
and laughed again and again
first world problems of snowflakes
hahaha hahaha hahaha....hahaha
they say your Leader ain't fit to rule
they say you hate the jews but why so
Aneurin Bevan and Kerr Hardy are turning in their graves
this wasn't about thugs, Hooligans and Criminals ruling
This was about the rights of decent hard working people
not thieves and charlatans using our party to get laid and
harass and terrorize decent honest hardworking citizen
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 9:06 PM UTC
Like its my fault
you are amongst the Seventy percent
of the worlds poor and under-privileged mass
but our feral chavs can talk
after-all you're brimming with bacon butties
and full of fish and chips
while you collect welfare money and zoom to
off-licences for *****
be proud you're in the same league table of poors
as Calcutta street beggars
of those from the shantys' in S. Africa or favela
in Brazil or bridge sleepers in Gambia
they don't get welfare or have the hot chippie
or kebab shop round the corner
as for ***** they say we can't even afford food
for belly much less *****
so our western seventy per-centers fighting elites
why not give up the bacon butties
and the pub trips and the weeds and crack smack
and go spend a month in Africa
where the sun will roast you and toughened you up
and street life will learn you to hell
then come back and fight your war against the elites
cos as you are now you're just cannon fodders
with full stomach and useless idles
like all that is my fault, n'est-ce pas ?
Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 3:26 PM UTC