"plebs" poems
UNEMPLOYMENT
All we hear about is unemployment,
Appears to be a global torment,
Couldn't we of think creative solutions,
New inventions, using less pollution?
New ideas, concepts for the plebs to need,
What can we invent today? Yes indeed,
We could start by teaching global literacy,
Imagine how many books we'd need!
What about one holistic food capsule,
Made in Australia, daily and healthful?
Then we could grow forests and sell trees,
The world does need oxygen to breathe.
We could sell books and food pills,
Get your own ideas, not such dills!
Let's hear this motto in our schools,
What can we invent today? Beautiful!
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
Skyscrapers in every nation,
Signs of mankind's aspiration,
Millions of plebs face starvation,
No dwellings for them, deprivation,
No, skyscrapers they keep building,
How many lilies are they gilding?
What else could they be doing?
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
Yes, it's the racing carnival,
Fashionistas so topical,
Significance trivial,
Eye candy,
Drunk and silly,
Studs in suits,
Looking beaut,
Glitterati,
Haves and wannabes,
For the paparazzi,
Doyens of the racing industry,
You all look fabulous,
Gambling magnanimous,
Thoroughbreds' gloss,
Media hype and dross,
Great racing day,
***** bets and babes,
Stuff the plebs today,
Our city's public holiday,
Melbourne Cup Day!
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
A beautiful world, it needs some cuddles,
All around, the world of struggles,
Plants all over are gasping,
While chemicals pollutants are grasping,
Fur, feathers and fish are becoming extinct,
As their habitats can no longer exist,
Then there's plebs in Earth, who struggle,
Overpopulation--maybe too many cuddles,
Soon for air we'll all be gasping,
While the powers--that-be go on grasping,
All around a world of struggles,
Our beautiful world needs a cuddle.
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 11:47 PM UTC
Yes, in Oz they've called an election,
PR on media heading in our direction,
Bland and blander for our selection,
Do they sell their souls for superannuation?
Politicians are deemed to be public servants,
By the plebs, for the plebs, now observant,
For the benefit of the plebs, in Australia,'
Is being forced to vote a failure?
No such thing as a Western Liberal Democracy,
Prepare for BS for you and me,
Largely unfundable policies,
Today is day one of Garbology!
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Very unlike
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit
Three crowns
bond in the act
of siphoning
exploiting
and palm-greasing
the National cake
Scratching
each others back
Leaving the detritus
to the detriment
of the mass plebs
Yet like
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit
Three in one
Demi-gods
of our democracy.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC
Very unlike
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit
Three crowns
bond in the act
of siphoning
exploiting
and palm-greasing
the National cake
Scratching
each others back
Leaving the detritus
to the detriment
of the mass plebs
Yet like
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit
Three in one
Demi-gods
of our democracy.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
We still see and hear their annoying class,
business Blackberry users amplify their relic, a discourse with the plebs,
plumb clipped tones from deepest
Home counties and southern coast
tired men with families
moved to gentrified London,
at any farmers market you catch them
in their 4x4, dress down best
a pram in tow, Pomfrey junior
their prodigal Norman sounding offspring
rhetorically the promised land,
a seed bank unending.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 4:24 AM UTC
National disasters,
Plebs' hollow laughter,
Floods and bushfires,
Natural land afire,
The state of the economy,
A national disaster for you and me,
Still, some people have jobs,
With hiring you should hobnob,
Plebs' hollow laughter,
Our national disasters,
Too funny not,
Whose hiring for jobs?
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
Very unlike
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit
Three crowns
bond in the act
of siphoning
exploiting
and palm-greasing
the National cake
Scratching
each others back
Leaving the detritus
to the detriment
of the mass plebs
Yet like
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit
Three in one
Demi-gods
of our democracy.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
The sun it rose in monochrome it slowley dipped to grey
The TVs going digital and all of us will pay
Its not the way the BBC was set to run it seems
But now the bloke who holds the reigns has come from ITV
So what of all the lower class the plebs with CRT
They never asked for digital or freeview if you please
But now in Tonys golden age I sit in dark despair
The poor old sods who put him there for them he never cared
He's taken every penny the pensioners ever got
And to thank them for their every vote hes turned their tellys OFF!
Bye Bye Tony and mind the door doesnt hit you on the **** on the way out.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
It may necessarily be so,
It may necessarily be so,
The things that you're liable
To read in the Bible,
May necessarily be so.
Moses was found in a stream,
True for the times, it seems,
They foundered kids in fields and streams,
For the crocodiles to take them,
Yes, Moses was found in a stream..
It may necessarily be so,
It may necessarily be so,
The things that your preacher,
Is liable to teach you,
Read it all in context, you know,
It may necessarily be so,
Jonah could have lived in a whale,
Yes, Jonah could have lived in a whale,
Not in the abdomen,
The gastric juices would have taken over,
But it could have been the mouth of the whale,
People were much smaller,
The whales were much larger,
May necessarily be so,
May necessarily be so.
Then there's the parting of the Red Sea,
Chronologically sound, you see,
Thera erupted,
The Red Sea parted,
The Tsunami swept away the Egyptians and the Pharaoh,
May necessarily be so, don't you know,
We may be small plebs,
But oh my,.
We have a powerful God, don't you know,
The things that your preacher
is liable to teach you,
May necessarily be so....
May necessarily be so....
Yes, the things that you're liable
To read in the Bible,
May necessarily be so......
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 8:15 PM UTC
The moralist is playing again,
bleaching your hair
is an unspoken uniform,
with so little soul
acetates don't get played.
New words gets bandied "plebs",
but without the de-rigueur Corduroys
or navy blazers,
we are all be tarred
with the same brush.
Meanwhile the coach exhaust fumes
abnegated our pilgrimage to Stamford
and we all now agree we
lived beyond our means
in exiguous Britain
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 5:24 PM UTC
Mother Nature is a nihilist sitting with friends
Around a poker table in the dew drop inn
Playing Nasty Canasta and the loser draws a limb
On a voodoo hangman, the cut of her kin
The high-wire committee say she’s way out of line
So they’ve sent in a crack-team of their most earnest faces
To blow 40 shades of blue, red and lime
From the very corridors our Mother paces
She croaks through the smoke “the first sons a novelty
The rest are just relics of muscles unclenched
Too smart for their own good and that doesn’t bother-me
But the reaper is hungry and hustling for rent”
Lackeys line the lawn, flunkies on fleek
To cover the crack of her chunky cheeks
“To stake lives may well seem immoral and bleak
But to play for cash prize seems horribly cheap
For a Lady of her esteem”
But the crowd spoke, she hung up the wardens trunchbull
Left the skeleton key within reach of the cells
“They’ve aired their opinions and I’ve had a cunt-full
Let the hungry ******** impeach themselves
I’m sitting this one out”
“And I’ll hide, while my dead snake wriggle persists,
On Elba with hairy pits, freckled wrists,
Openly practicing romanticists
And other hapless things that can’t exist
In these times”
Every second Sunday, the search resumes-led
By a dawn-chorus of confetti festooned-plebs
She can dance the devils limbo cos she’ll not be presumed-dead
While we’ve Holy Grail Package Holi-vows to renew-said
The green eyed usher on the door
The newsstand screams “Mother Nature was a fascist
Sher natural selection was the **** manifesto”
And they’re pedalling placebo to the shell-shocked masses
While the editor shoehorns a scotch into his amaretto
Yeah the world has been orphaned and the orphans smothered
But go easy on her sordid soul cos that’s our mother, after all
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
Too many thoughts can drag you down,
Smiling is allowed,
Hard times can test your faith,
Oh, melodrama of the grace,
The world is, indeed a stage,
As a famous bard did say,
But thoughts have a positive role,
Solutions appear to guys and dolls,
So, plebs, sit down and have a rest,
Positive ideas are creation's best!
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
Bouncy castles aren't in order
They are for the plebs at some Margate
two night hotel
Cigarette stains gape on mildew carpets.
The Lager is like a noxious high
must be a Swiss import.
The air turbulence pumps Ballroom Blitz
The hotel owners son is taking us for a Glam ride
Latex overkill, not to mention his suicide bride.
She's waited so long to make her incorrect entry.
And one stray cigarette has burst
the initial plan
a children's party
Only the iinvited Hells Angels can make amends
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Oh the cat is out of the hat
the maiden has lost her knickers
and my aunt Nelly blimey
oh what a kerfuffle
My wife just put ****** on the sausages
and one from the oven has shot up the dogs ***
oh this is not good, at party like this
oh what a kerfuffle
There must be at least twelve saints here
those that must be revered
yet they are dancing like nutters
oi the beers are over here
God look at peter paul and dingo
don't they act like plebs
I would not dance
if I could get the beat out of my head
Lets take it to the garden
and do the moonlight shuffle
let's be foot loose and fancy free
oh what a kerfuffle
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
A verse from an old bag girl,
How not to save the world,
We all know the answers to this,
Industry leaders give it a miss,
The finance sector us to hector,
Is our nation to be beggars?
Division between the plebs, not grots,
Too much 'have' and 'have not',
We all know how not to save the world,
Verse to read from an old bag girl....
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
Look at Prince Charles' profile
see the high forehead and receding baldness
the jutting nose, a strong noble Grecian look
take a look at Prince William, same features
his is even more defined
so our plebs on the Clapham omnibus
declares quite seriously that
these lovely royal profiles resembles a horse
neigh, neigh do not scold the plebs
they see only what the lower plebs brains sees
and perhaps
because Royals have a strong historical link with Horses
a royal maiden had at one time taken a horse to bed
Come to think of it, Catherine The Great
Empress of Russia
reportedly did take a horse for a bit of jiggery porky
so maybe there's a bit of equine bloodline in all royal lineages
after-all the horse is considered a handsome proud and noble beast
So I embrace my horse ancestry and can also confirm
that I am packed as a horse in the lower region as well....
Any clean and disease-free female wanting a ride is welcomed
please contact me at Buck house and bring a big hat along
NO, not for my head...you silly twit......
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 8:45 PM UTC
It burns,
The decaying heart within.
It eats,
A maggot feasting eternal
Love is not a gift
It consumes
Love is not a gift
It destroys
Yet we mortal plebs
Crave it and suckle every drop from another
We hopeless vagrants
Waste away within our addictions
Curse you!
With love!
Curse you!
With smiles!
Curse you!
With laughter, *** and sighs!
Curse you!
With my dying breath.
No curses of hate can I make as I say goodbye.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 4:26 PM UTC
The music plays on but the band has all gone and I'm sat here in the back row writing the new manifesto.
They're laughing at us while shafting us and drafting us into some warm sense of well being,
and all we are seeing are the rosy red cheeks of those Whitehall antiques who are selling us all for a song.
So,
say so long and goodbye while they cry all the way to their pay day in Haiti,not Southsea 'cause that's for the likes of you and of me,where poverty's not viewed as some incurable disease and while those ******** eat peas with their forks we're eating bread with no butter,cash talks and it tells me,'have me to be free'.
Well.
whip me quite soundly there's riches around me and it looks like they found me,washed up and spent,
but I'm intent on my due and so I stand in the queue,
I guess this is someone's largesse but I don't really care and I don't want to share but I will and until I'm the one with gold by the ton and a castle made from diamonds and cream,
I shall dream,eating peas with a fork and with a plum in my mouth I can talk la di dah,giving it big with a blah ****** blah in a big yankee car which will guzzle the gas and again I won't care
because, I'll have the ***** like they have in big halls where they dance with the debs and say ******** to the plebs and give them no cake and shall laugh like a madman until my sides ache,
then I'll shaft and redraft the new manifesto release all my guilts and away I will go with the men from the ministry who will in the end,come
to love and to mimic me and with no demands for no tax I shall sit and relax in the warm glow of the feeling that all I am feeling is the feeling I'd get from getting better and reeling from this realisation while the whole ****** nation is down on its knees
I'll thank God for the fork and the peas.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
M-Marching together they of exclusive club
O-On this matter one has the definitive rub
N-No other individuals permitted in their hub
O-Only they who are mentioned on its stub
P-Plebs of little importance left out of the tub
O-One unto themselves not a welcoming pub
L-Long they've operated under the private nub
Y-Ye controlling all who present at their sub
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 8:35 PM UTC
Hate Forever
Cursed be
Retched god of false and proof not.
Blood spilt of no avail.
War at heart
Of his rib
Scream for help
To forms unseen.
A father in his role unsound
Noah in his bottle drowned
In the morning.
Peeling from,
The sum of all
The measured come.
Hope known well
Never dwell
This his holy name
No of weak
No of shame
Never lame
Bought with just
Just an ounce
The selling of A soul
My breast an empty hole
Papists cloths adorned with gold
Are payed with those
The Cheaply sold
All are welcome
****** and thieves
Bent of will
With frilly sleeves
So be it, so
The fools prove crass
Those of wealth
And plebs , amasse
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
Covid 19 is shockingly lethal,
Killing thousands all over the world.
We are imprisoned in Pandemic Lockdown,
Confined to our homes for seemingly endless days.
Yet these clouds have silver linings.
No more daily social drinking for me.
Complete control of what I eat.
Time, oceans of time, to get my house in order.
Time to reflect and write.
I might even get
Into good shape.
The skies are clearing too.
Much less pollution
From factories and cars.
China can be seen from space
Free from smog.
Animals are returning.
We saw a squirrel in our close the other day
For the first time in twenty odd years.
And the gulls have come inland
For more food.
Chaffinches and robins on my lawns
And foxes even bolder than they were before.
All this is showing us:
There is another way.
We don’t have to ravage Mother Earth
Chop down the trees
Or fill the air with smoke.
Nor do we need to classify us all
As Patricians or Plebs:
Iniquitous inequality.
Or make Money our God
Like modern Midases.
There is indeed a better way.
Which begs the question:
What will it take to make the human race
See sense?
Paul Butters
© PB 27\4\2020. (Slightly amended 28\4).
Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 5:45 AM UTC