"gaff" poems
This contains swearwords!!!!
Do you know what it’s like to be on the dole?
The giro, the social, the rock and roll,
Well I’m tellin you now, that it’s no laff,
No heat or food, round at my gaff,
I can’t pay the bills on fifty three quid,
This is how I live; I’m tellin ye kid,
No Lecky, or water, or comfy bed,
Nowhere to lay my educated head,
You’s think I’m brewsted on state benefit,
Well I’m tellin ye now, life is ****
No jobs are goin in my town,
This whole ****** country is goin down,
I look every day for a job to do,
Over qualified under qualified, scew you,
I’d brush your path, deliver your dinner,
My options for work get thinner and thinner,
But we get the blame for the country’s debt,
And seen in your eyes as a useless get,
We are not scroungers and living like kings,
We can’t afford the simple things,
We can’t take our kids to Blackpool pier,
Or to the fair, it’s just too dear,
It’s not our fault the system let us down,
Schooling was crap, but I got a cap and gown,
So don’t look at me, like I’m ****
I’ve bettered meself to get out of this pit,
I’m clever and proud and I stand tall,
I make something out of nothing, coz I’ve got **** all,
You won’t tread us down, yeah that’s right,
We got fire in our bellies and where ready to fight,
We’re not greedy for a fancy lifestyle.
The simple things make us smile,
So quit avin a go, at our worlds apart,
I’m scouse and proud, with a lions heart,
So live well in your mansion, apartment, or detached,
Coz were the generation that Maggie hatched,
Yeah that’s right were Maggie’s crew,
The under privileged, not like you,
Time to step up the Cameron’s and Clegg’s,
Coz you’ve sat long enough on Thatcher’s eggs.
Tina Ford
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
To Big Ben
This gaff is not right
Without you
In it.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 8:18 PM UTC
The long white curtain is still hanging on. The baby still
sleeping somewhere in all of that. I don’t mind
a thing. I don’t mind at all. See how slow and good
it can be? He says and points to my gizzard. The one he
insists upon me having. The same one I have given up insisting I don’t.
I’m addicted to the pith and gaff of his arguments,
how stalwartly he rows them down the narrow
passage of our trying not to hurry banter. I curl into the slow
lilt of how he doesn’t mind strolling around inside of promises,
like Burt showing Mary Poppins another chalk Paris. Look! A
riverboat! Lights and parasols. Pretty lovers laughing on the prow.
We’re both still wearing your T-shirt
inside the stewpot dreaming we do between sex. Aprons
and porches, babies and waterfalls.
The kinds of props you bandit from other people’s dreams.
Shorthand for lovers, with an hour to prove they exist.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 7:12 AM UTC
I just saw a Man Who's Ego World Dwarf
All the Republicans who Have put forth
There announcement to run for the POTUS
And the Wisdom he Espised from the podium
Was shellacked with self spun bravada
His Claim to Fame in God's Name as
The Worlds Greatest Job Provider
Should in the Face of the Coming Race
Provide such Political Fodder
America he Said from his Enormous Head
Was nothing but a Nation of Stupid losers
The only safe Haven and path to the future
Was Guarded by a Caped Hero of the Dollar
In tights with a Diamond and T on his Chest
Red white and Blue Cape He Knew what's Best
He'd thru his vision change the Face of the World
And as he comes up with one, his plan will unfurl
As I watched CNN with a Chortle and a Laugh
If we Elect TRUMP for President its our own Gaff
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
*Have you seen the flash of green
That sits above the setting sun?
It fades away like every dream
That ends before it has begun.
But every night the sacred light
Returns again to speak to me,
And every night, the sacred light,
Reminds me of how things should be.
We all should laugh, or have a gaff,
At the day and what was done
And every grain of blessed pain
Should fade away with her, the sun.
But as the stars begin to shine
Above the murky atmosphere,
Our thoughts begin to turn to time
And how the end is almost here.
So grab your lass and fill your glass
And drink away the night with her,
If time should pass, as in the past,
At least you’ll spend the last with her.*
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 3:22 PM UTC
I can see, in your sea
what I threw, went right through
your lack of class, so get to class
you flea, you flee
fear will show, fear the show
for busted acts, four battle ax
an eerie moan, an eerily mown
level plane, yet too plain
so start the rite, so start to write
your words to savor, you worried saver
and this I saw, and with this saw
cut to sear, seek the seer
a spirit pryed, an unleashed pride
giant gorilla, stealthy guerrilla
so send the pros, we speak in prose
you leave your prince, you leave your prints
simple minds racked, simply mind wracked
so slow your roll, know your role
kneel and pray, kneel you prey
you maid from Rome, you'remade to roam
with worn sole, with warn soul
spirit's cold, under coaled
start the fire, weapons fire
send the horde, send the ******
forget the gaffe, remember the gaff
speed for the gate, speed is the gait
if death feign, or if death fain
let you pass, or may you pass
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
Ask me what I want to do, go fish
if I had a genie, it’s what I would wish
in the lake, river, creek or pond
eagerly cast next to a fern frond
Wiggle my bait and work it some more
hoping a fish cannot ignore
flipping up under docks
or the edges of piles of rocks
Working the tree stumps
waiting on a big thump
on my lure, adrenaline pumps
waiting for the end of my rod to jump
Bass, on Carolina, Alabama, or Texas rigs
crappie and pan fish I’ll catch on a jig
white bass and hybrids, on slabs and spoons
I have even caught them casting at loons
Sam Rayburn, Cedar Creek or Lake Fork
I’m getting excited just like a dork
Tawakoni, Amistad, or Nacogdoches
if I ran out of bait, man I would use roaches
Livingston, Stryker, or the Trinidad Lake
catching some fish, fry them up on a plate
bait cast, and spin cast, pushbuttons oh wow
I also can fly-fish, I taught myself how
Gar, carp and buffalo, anything that bites
looking for something to make my line tight
Matagorda, or Galveston, or Port A
I have no problems fishing the bay
Intercoastal waterway or out in the surf
no problems cooking surf and turf
Black drum, Red fish or Speckled trout
as long as they’re biting I’ll never pout
Whiting, and Croakers and even Hardheads
catching are fun, getting the slime off you dread
gaff tops are pretty, but just as slimy nasty
I’ve never had any, I hear their pretty tasty
Flounders are flat and so are sting rays
but if that’s what’s biting I’ll fish everyday
jacks, and mackerel and bonnet head sharks
so many fish in the ocean, that’s just a start.
How about invasives, silver carp and snakeheads
cast for the snakehead, jumping carp in a net
I’ve fished lots of bass, native and Florida strain
but there is one thought that sticks in my brain
Is I’d like to go catch some peacock bass
top water action would really kick ***
catch and release or serve it up in a dish
as you can see I really love to fish
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
She's a purple laffy taffy
Just a tiny bit snazzy
But not in the least bit ******
She's always got a joke
To lighten the mood
And maybe share a Coke
Though sometimes she's a difficult brand to be chewed
she's blunt
And doesn't bother putting up a front
Her wrapper makes you laugh
But her insides are just like a gaff
She's a rock in the cold light of day
But an ocean in the warm breeze of May
She is a mystery
With a long history
She doesn't always feel good enough
Because the other taffys are saying that's she's rough
But she's got her own thing going
Even without the other taffys knowing
So you can keep on throwing rocks
But one day
she's gonna knock off your socks
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
I
Thin scales of self dry my waters
murky-lit flakes mackled mirrors
tilt slightly only because shaken
by silent throes invisible current
(to swimming’s orchestra, I’ve been deaf)
latch onto nothing but fish-bone
fish-meat under latch and tilt
cold iridescent like hot slaps
II
A native child alone goes fishing
names me yen (“the hologram fish”)
yen, sparkling, becomes
his first catch his first glory and pride
Which way must yen be tilting then
in the sun? for him to unhook the gaff
see yen soak, see yen drip brazen
against an impossible smaragdine sky air
and toss it back back to water?
III
Having gasped for it maybe
I should not be that easily set free
I am human only like yen craving out
of maddening iridescence
but it’s a mean trick, child
to lift me in that air like something
miraculous and then toss me back
A tilt in the sun must be made to last I know
a glint some air briefly on the scales
a fish, a yen must then go back to swim
with itself more clearly in its waters
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:04 PM UTC
Some write from their heart
Others bare their soul
Some write for the art
Others to feel whole
Some write to inform
Others to get a laugh
Some write as a platform
Others to land a gaff
Some write to rant and lobby
Others to find peace
Some write as a hobby
Others in search of a masterpiece
They each have merit
But with every sort of objective
They just want to share it
With us, the HP collective
Jan 17, 2020
Jan 17, 2020 at 12:48 PM UTC
i never understood why people decided to couple such symbols into images esp. in fictional narratives rather than see the sound in lipstick smooched for symphony; how hard you try, the a to z will not provide you with a mental cinema image of a giraffe; more like a gaff, and what's a gaff in photo? leopard on giraffe or a giraffe on a leopard, because it's all very fine telling the narrative of traffic coordination evolution coming back from africa with the zebra to suit pitchfork stoppages in hay on the redneck lazed walk. the sole reason why it's understood: fiction is the use of lettering for the creation of images, poetry is the use of lettering a bit like a waterfall for a bored emperor apprehensive of the sound of thinking; and philosophy is the reverse of all that, strike two flints together, and enter the realm of ideas with the onomatopoeia of the image - given that onomatopoeias act like surgical scalpels, or a miscarriage of ideas bundled up for something else by kandinsky; actually, saying that, onomatopoeias are images in motion, prior to the movies, when all you had was a painting embraced by a fancy rim - still life of decay of the royal flotilla on the thames with a mouth moving: chatty chatty boor of a bloke who talked.
i see the dead sea when i cry,
and i wager
a salmon with other sea fish cropping up flying
into a butterfly net:
before the assemblage of bacon
into the mouth watering eye.
i see the dead sea when i cry,
and i wager
to have seen a thousand flamingos
strut invoking tide -
on a boneless march into marsh of
a bubbled gill of fish popped for whatever name alive,
or dead in the disco crescendo for a nixon:
tears of a robot had always the glory of man laughing akin;
since annexed was the dualistic ambiguity
of the theatrically mistaken two masked.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
Former lover,
Indulge me this anguished plea,
prefaced by this confession:
You are the first and final piece of my soul.
My lungs inhale air and exhale a prayer;
A request to the divine forces that you remain whole,
That no shred of your perfect self is stripped away,
That the only thing that changes is how you perceive me.
That whatever trespass or gaff on my part is ripped from memory
That you hold even half of the opinion I hold of you.
Before you carry out that box
Of personal effects,
Of joyous memories,
Of melancholy epiphanies,
Of sensuous encounters,
Of laughs,
Of tears,
And all the material and otherwise classified fragments of this broken romance,
Realize that I am a man in love with you,
A creature on the brink of the chaotic crumble of his being,
As the pillars of love gone would destroy the Parthenon.
Former lover,
Before your foot steps have finished echoing against my walls,
Please heed the request of an explanation.
Please grace this dead love with the dignity of reason,
As opposed to leaving it in a cloud of an enigma,
Abandoned like a fish on a dock, left to slowly suffocate.
Abide this request as you would a dying man,
As you are doing little more than killing me.
Former lover,
Letting you go will be like releasing a tightened vice,
As my love for you is as a part of my being as my heart.
Saying our last goodbyes,
Sharing that final kiss that did little more than indulge me
In wistful fantasies of an inevitable reunion,
Consummated with regret, love, and reconciled with intimacy.
Your goodbye left strings,
Like a strand of saliva still connecting our lips even as you parted them.
Former lover,
You left the door open when you walked through it.
How could you be so cruel?
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 2:45 PM UTC
Fading into oblivion,
I read, I write and I laugh;
riding off, into the sunset,
I have no need to gaff.
Protests are for the young,
in their moral indignation;
against the forces of the strong,
corrupt and deranged nation.
Fighting for equality,
marching off, for peace;
while the world defaults,
of wars that never cease.
The elements of life wear down,
in silent, unseen nights;
of too much grand illusion,
destroyed by endless fights.
Let me disappear into the realm,
where few would care to go;
content with treasured memories,
and pleased with nature's show.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
The envelope please!
No, not that one, you fool.
Mistakes have been made
by Price-Waterhouse tools.
A Harvey –like gaff
At the Oscars was made
And the wrong cast and crew
were called up to the stage.
How mortifying
It sure must have been
To be standing up there
And learn you didn’t win.
Kimmel mocked Harvey
For just such a switch
Last night Jimmy learned
That karma’s a witch
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
All I want to do is make people laugh
A quip, a bit of wit, a self put down
But it always seems to be a huge gaff
"Why do you always want to be a clown?"
I thought laughter made the world go around
Laughter is my energy, my power
It may be my only contribution
If only so, even for an hour
Why does it claim such harsh retribution?
They jeer, it destroys my constitution
My weakness is trying to build esteem
Esteem needs laughs to nurture its weak soul
The sad clown hides the makeup disguised dream
Laugh, like, even love me one and, PLEASE, all?
Laughter cries in the dark depths of my soul
All I want to do is make people laugh
A quip, a bit of wit, a self put down
But it always seems to be a huge gaff
Why must I always try to be a clown?
Laughter is what makes my world go around
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
Look lady, do I look bovver'd it's botched?
You wanted bespoke and that’s just what you got.
I alreddy told ya, I’m chock-a-block with jobs,
so this the best of a very bad job.
Now, fair enough, it might look bog standard,
but you must remember, it was already cack-‘anded,
so I'd thank you for shutting your gob
with all your talk of you bein' robbed.
Look, your ladyship, you might well be miffed,
but I’m sure you can make do with a little skew-wiffed,
so ‘and over the readies and make it swift -
I’ll walk away and we’ll call it quits.
You know me and my rep round this manor,
if you don’t cough up I know a right tasty geezer
who will breeze over ‘ere and wrap each of his fingers
round a whole lot more than your French wind-ders.
- That’s a lot better, you’ve got a nice gaff
and I’m sure neither of us want all of the faff
that goes with ‘ard feelings and still ‘arder stares
through broken front wind-ders and costly repairs.
You know what I mean?
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 2:58 PM UTC
With a curse, some wicked witch
drew and flicked her tongue
to **** the damsel to a fate
of slumber till true love comes.
But **** that damsel laughed
threw her arm around the witch
and poked a little gaff
at the self-assured ol’ *****
*I can think myself out of love
or in it, for that matter.
Do what you’ll do
but no love is true.
You could give the princes a ladder*
*and still I would sleep here forever,
which might pain me if I were younger,
but I like my dreams
and sleeping seems
better than life and its hunger.*
So she skipped up to the tower
two steps at a time
high-fived the dragon guard
and spit one last jab behind
*The more I think of it
there’s no bad way this can end!
I either wake up to great ***
or dream it till I’m dead!*
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:34 AM UTC
The Day a Healer Did Weep,
The day did start with desire in the power of prayer,
Yond day would end in horrible, lingering, despair.
The moniters sounded a wretched shrill of doom,
In a blink, an instant, I wast whisked from the cubiculo,
The time did do cometh with swift, and desperate, finality,
While I did pray, and did beg God's holp, did do cometh lethality.
The leadeth leech would not giveth in until did pull away,
With the hurlyburly's end, We did weep together yond day,
This healer with emotion withdrawn, did do break down as a tyke,
The lady did has't this loving effect on all, in the very same like.
Ay, a life ended one warm, sunny, day in K.C,
Nay one erned, but doctors, nurses, and me,
Thither wast nay flowers, nay mourners, nay half staff,
Mine heart ripped ope as with a warrior's gaff.
I cherished, and did protect the lady all our time together,
I did fix all, did maketh things right, cometh high water, or nether,
I couldst nae fix this, nay matter how hard I would tryeth,
Thou can not imagine such teen as I did watch that lady vade, and die,
Nary one knave, nay matter whom they may ever beest,
Can beest did replace, Each life is precious, I wouldst decree,
I wilt declare this to thou, All those yond would listen,
Taketh nothing for did grant, leaveth not a thing missing.
Liveth each moment with thy love as t'would beest thy last,
Leaveth nay regrets in thy future, or eyeless in thy past,
Still cogitate thy love as thou did has't from the first,
Tf 't be true thou pause too long, thou can nea quench such a thirst.
Thither is nary joy in living with regret, teen, and grief,
Liveth each day did share as a gift, and treasure this life brief.
(Translation)
"The Day a Healer Wept,,
The day started with hope in the power of prayer,,
That day would end in horrible, lingering, despair,,
The moniters sounded a wretched shrill of doom,,
In a blink, an instant, I was whisked from the room,,
The time came with swift, and desperate, finality,,
While I prayed, and begged God's help, came lethality,,
The lead Doctor would not give up until pulled away,,
With the battle's end, We wept together that day,,
This doctor with emotion withdrawn, broke down as a tyke,,
She had this loving effect on all, in the very same like,,
Yes, a life ended one warm, sunny, day in K.C.,,
No one grieved, but doctors, nurses, and me,,
There were no flowers, no mourners, no half staff,,
My heart ripped open as with a warrior's gaff,,
I cherished, and protected her all our time together,,
I fixed all, Made things right, Come high water, or nether,,
I couldn't fix this, no matter how hard I would try,,
You can not imagine such pain as I watched her fade, and die,,
No one person, no matter whom they may ever be,,
Can be replaced, Each life is precious, I would decree,,
I will say this to you, All those that would listen,,
Take nothing for granted, Leave not a thing missing,,
Live each moment with your love as it would be the last,,
Leave no regrets in your future, or hidden in your past,,
Forever cogitate your love as you had from the first,,
If you pause too long, you can never quench such a thirst,,
There is no joy in living with regret, pain, and grief,,
Live each day shared as a gift, and treasure this life brief,,
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
At last they are away off on holiday
We thought the day would never come
A free gaff for two weeks, Hip Hip Hooray
We are going to party and then some!!
Two weeks with no rules or regulations
Gone are the mind-numbing routines
Let the party begin, bring on the celebrations
Let’s live it up like proper teens!
There was a sermon about responsibility
But was anyone listening at all?
As for all that talk about maturity;
One might as well talk to the wall!
We can have our friends over for parties
Oh we are going to have mighty craic
Yes, we can do just as we please
At least until those two come back.
No more checking over our shoulder
To see who’s in and who’s out
Yes we can be just that little bit bolder
Knowing they are not lurking about
We can get up whenever we choose
Eat at any old time of the day
Maybe overdo it a bit on the *****
They cannot wreck our heads the next day
It will be two weeks of take-aways
No more being forced to eat healthily
We can have friends over for overnight stays
Ah God bless freedom and liberty
We can forget about washing and ironing
They are always are on our backs
Thank God to be free of constant nagging
We can chill out, really relax.
For there is always something they want done
Keeping up with their demands is tough
It’s never ending, it’s not much fun
It seems we can never do enough
But now for two weeks all that will desist
Absolutely nothing will be done
And though they left a “To Do” list
They have two chances; “Slim and None”
Two weeks without judgement and criticism
About everything we do and say
Two weeks of pure hedonism
Doing just what we want every day.
But all good things must come to an end
And though we really love them dearly
Their two weeks holidays will soon end
and our kids will have to come home, clearly!
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
Slug inching across to the other side,
What’s so near, apart, a mile wide.
Snap, and an answer you’d expect,
Moment of silence, an eon to reject.
Indeed, wine becomes finer with time,
The taste of patience, all but sublime.
Sour hours drag as the clock ticks
While nails nibbled down to the quick.
Frantically searching for your other half
Only to be impaled by rejection’s gaff.
Blessed are those who patiently wait,
For there’s always a fish for every bait.
At first it may seem not worthwhile,
Surely your reward will crack a smile.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 8:15 AM UTC
A truck on fire
let her brazen attire
on a road where
her stone figure
'twas to martyr alas there
made hers really lookin bigger
but she'd model graph
in her New Haven gaff.
lol.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
All I want to do is make people laugh
A quip, a bit of wit, a self put down
But it always seems to be a huge gaff
"Why do you always want to be a clown?"
I thought laughter made the world go around
Laughter is my energy, my power
It may be my only contribution
If only so, even for an hour
Why does it claim such harsh retribution?
They jeer, it destroys my constitution
My weakness is trying to build esteem
Esteem needs laughs to nurture its weak soul
The sad clown hides the makeup disguised dream
Laugh, like, even love me one and, PLEASE, all?
Laughter cries in the dark depths of my soul
All I want to do is make people laugh
A quip, a bit of wit, a self put down
But it always seems to be a huge gaff
Why must I always try to be a clown?
Laughter is what makes my world go around
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
As teens we walked that road so many times,
The sand gets into everything it’s ground so fine,
From cars and trucks that travel by.
When a car or truck comes speeding by, the dust cloud rises way up high.
It settles oh so slowly down on everything, ofttimes even in your blinking eyes.
Orange grove right and orange grove left with barriers of weedy brush.
Walk on the side and you can hear the sound of old dry weeds as they crush.
Ghosts there were upon that stretch of citrus lined sand and clay,
Where even most adults would only walk by the light of day.
Before you hurt yourself with a hearty laugh,
Give me a chance to show it’s not a gaff.
Nighttime brought out the little creepy things,
These harmless things we knew could do no harm.
But larger sounds like footsteps keeping pace in the brush,
The kind of thing to bring conversation to a sudden hush.
‘What’s that noise?’ a new friend once asked. ‘Just a noisy ghost, I guess it is’.
‘There’s no such thing’ he said to me,’you’re just giving me the biz’.
But when it was time for him to go back to his home,
He stood steadfast and would not go alone.
So we took a light to”show our way”
And started walking back again,
Toward his home at the end of day.
Crunching noise as we pace,
Makes the heart beat like it's in a race!
‘Wait! Let’s stop and check this out’.
Flashlight shines, no help at all, though we shine it all about.
Never after that again did my friend go,
To my house without a ride, guaranteed both to and fro!
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 5:11 AM UTC
The world wide web sailed my ceiling.
Transmission overload.
Hit the kitchen with a broom.
The witch of the land of kitchen,that's me.
Destroyed their lovely habitat.
Witch woman on a magical cleaning spree, ripped down their gaff,
Setting them free.
The witchy lady, the one who looks a lot like me
Will have a wailing daughter who isn't pleased with me.
Mum, why did you set those leggy monsters free?
(c) Livvi
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC