"sett" poems
Whilst strolling in the countryside
I had time to dwell
On deeply profound questions
Like: Do badger farts have a smell?
I pondered as I wandered
On this important thought
And then I found a badger sett
And so I thought I ought
To settle this complex question
That had bothered me all day
I stuck my silly head down there
Boy was I was made to pay
For when a badger thinks he’s trapped
He lets go a tremendous fart
The stench was green and nauseous
And **** near stopped my heart
Trying to withdraw in haste
I ran out of luck
For no matter how I wriggled
My head was firmly stuck
A passer by chanced on me
But he was not a friend
He stole my shoes and trousers
Exposing my rear end
The farmer who dug me out
Laughed until he cried
I had to walk home bare of arse
Whilst covering my pride
So now I've learned a lesson
With experiments to be frugal
I’ll wait until I get back home
And look it up on Google
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
The ten speed biker was coasting down hill
about 20 MPH when he took a spill,
He's moving on, He's moving on!
He hit the brake a little too late, He's moving on!
The ten speed biker was do'n ok,
Till he an old Tom Cat got in his way,
He's mov'n on, he's a mov'n on.
He tried it to miss, but the ground he kissed,
He's mov'n on!
The 10 speed biker broke down in tears,
climbing up a hill he ran out of gears,
He's a-moving on, he's moving on.
He had to call his nurse, when he went in reverse,
He mov'n on, he's mov'n on!
The ten speed biker was a do'n ok, till he saw a pretty girl,
and he looked her way, he's mov'n on, he's mov'n on.
His bike is a wreck and so is his neck, he's mov'n on.
(She wasn't worth look'n at any way)
Welll, the ten speed biker was hav'n no trouble,
Till he tried to ride through a big mud puddle,
He's a mov'n on,
Now he's filthy sight, and so is his bike
But he'll soon be mov'n on, be a mov'n on.
The 10 speed biker hit a serious cog,
When he got chased by a mangy ol' dog,
He tried mov'n (faster) on,
But he ran of of luck, 'n got bit in the ****
He's mov'n (a little slower) but he's still mov'n on.
[This next stanza was written by my 7 yr. old Grandson.)
The ten speed biker do'n 'bout 25 and didn't see
the big hornet hive, he's moving on, he's mov'n on.
You could him cry'n "I think Im dy'n!
He's mov'n on, yeah mov'n on!
(This last stanza is a true experience when I was 65 yrs old)
The ten speed biker had good control, till he waved at a friend,
and ran off the road, he stopped mov'n on, stopped mov'n on.
Now he's sett'n home with broken ribs and a collar bone ,
He' NOT mov'n on! yeah he's NOT NO LONGER MOV'N ON!
[I didn't have all these experiences, but wrote this poem to
an old country western song tune. by G.E.Parson
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Love in Fantastique Triumph satt,
Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow'd,
For whom Fresh pains he did create,
And strange Tryanic power he show'd;
From thy Bright Eyes he took his fire,
Which round about, in sport he hurl'd;
But 'twas from mine he took desire,
Enough to undo the Amorous World.
From me he took his sighs and tears,
From thee his Pride and Crueltie;
From me his Languishments and Feares,
And every Killing Dart from thee;
Thus thou and I, the God have arm'd,
And sett him up a Deity;
But my poor Heart alone is harm'd,
Whilst thine the Victor is, and free.
1.8k
Take a glimpse back down the cobbled Roman road, and you will bear witness to a catalogue of decadent milestones which await unrestrained consummation.
But I am now a weary pilgrim who wanders through misty forests, where the sound of cracking twigs around the badgers sett, shatters the serenity of twilight ecosystems.
Toadstools are not a part of my current diet. Therefore, I bid you farewell. When you stand by the sparking fire at the ancient gatehouse, you will resolve the carnival of hypnogogic and hypnopompic startlements.
Therefore, before you begin your journey of forgotten mystical awareness, I must ask one thing of you: are you able to recollect your whereabouts in the next lifetime?
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
...(still in the manner of Ogden Nash)
This badger is large and of course, lives underground
He barks like a dog, and makes quite a sound
He’s got massive claws so I keep far away
But then, he doesn’t visit much down my way.
I recently saw him go after an eel
He walloped him hard and it made a loud squeal
Then next he tried to provoke a large cat
Which simply swanned off, well fancy that!
Old brock then went after a giant eagle owl
Well he’s not exactly your domestic fowl
The owl flew up with things left unsaid
But dropped a large message right on his head.
That badger, a glutton in more ways than one
Next tried to see off a massive white swan
Who just raised his wings in a mighty display
Old brock disappeared for the rest of the day.
Soon after the badger’s done his vanishing trick
All of the birds burst out fast and thick
And meeses and voles had their best time yet
Knowing old brock was asleep in his sett.
©Joe Wilson – An unfortunate badger…2015
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
I’ve been warned of your dang’rous fickleness,
That one word could be the one fatal flaw.
I find myself waiting, sett’ling for less,
Watching from afar your beauty in awe.
I see you every once in a while
as you pass my way and ev’ry time I wish
that you would softly look at me and smile.
When will you love me? The time feels sluggish.
But, what can I do to make your sweet love
Come to me faster. I can’t make the days
short just as I can’t move the sky above.
I can only your form quietly praise.
And I will do just that every day
Until to me your attention will pay.
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 3:41 PM UTC
[I] couldn't speak so I sett[l]ed.
But y[o]u asked again just before I could find the words.
I mo[v]ed a muscle, turn[e]d around to face [y]ou,
Sealing yet another n[o]n existent space.
If only yo[u] knew what resided within.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
tunga täcken och dina andetag
bläcket i din hud och dina fina ord
jag glömmer nästan att sängen är dekorerad med mitt blod
fläckar som du låter finnas kvar
du känns som mitt paradis
för ibland vill du hålla om mig
men oftast vill du ha mer
dina händer är för ivriga och blåmärken är bevis
du ser ledsen ut men du fortsätter ändå
jag tror att det är okej för du vill ju ha mig
jag vill gråta
du vill romantisera
du säger ju att jag är fin när jag gråter
även när det är du som orsakat tårarna
gillar du det?
är du stolt?
för mina ögon brinner när dina bara är blå
jag är en saga och du är min prins
det finns ingen krona på ditt huvud
så du låter makten koras i dina händer istället
men det är
okej
vi är okej
du greppar hårt och blåser på såren
lämnar mig för ett bloss från cigaretten
jag känner lukten av rök på dina kläder
men jag vet att jag inte ska fråga
aldrig ifrågasätta
för då hade jag kanske sett
att dina ord var mjuka men din säng var hård
att dina löften vara stora men dina lögner var större
jag faller alltid för dig ändå
jag håller dig i handen och allt jag säger är fel
mina kläder är värdelösa
mina ord är ett evigt eko
du varnar och du säger
f ö r l å t
men du vet aldrig vad du ber om ursäkt för
alkohol i vårt blod och mina tårar på din kudde
din själ som låtsas vara trasig
min själ som skriker ditt namn
aldrig någonsin hittar de till varandra igen
för illusionen är förstörd och till **** får jag syn
du är inget mästerverk och jag tycker synd om de andra
de som ser när dina ögon blir mörka
de som ser dina läppar runt en flaska
mörka väggar och du är borta
någon dag kommer du få höra
om natten jag spenderade hos din vän
eller telefonsamtalen från personen du träffade senast för en kvart sen
viskningar på stan och folk som ser igenom dig
du är en kliché
och inget känns okej längre
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 4:15 AM UTC
I got weapons in place
Just incase
Of sett trippin' cold rippin'
Out them demons heart
Took on the part
From where it all start
My birth i knew my worth
Made to crumble nations
Against me exposing secrecy
To better me
**** this life it aint living
While these politics winning
Scores been fixed
Wars been fix
Saying they want peace
Its just a prefix
So they can get you beguile
Lost in the wild demons love to smile
Right in front of you
Check the tvs and they manuscript
Got folks lost a total crypt
Soon to the morge poor George
Aint catching on
The band plays on same ol song
With a different tune soon
These muthaphukkaz will know who i be?
Kin to makaveli takin shots
At the belly
Of the beast and the owl foul
So how you like me now?
Washington i see you duckin'
And tuckin' away
From North Korea soon to get a fuckin'.
Dumping led on yo *** for the past
You cant **** a whole nation
And not expect a retaliation
Rebellion from the civilians
We wakin up the masses
**** the task force and what they thought
We makin ****** corpses
Soundin my troops dont be alarm
Its just rebels doing the harm
Kiss my good luck charm
Black Jesus i see yo tears
Running down to replenish the earth
Nah mean
Remember Bobby Kennedy
Said what if you died and God was black like me ya see
I know my enemies i learned
And studied well
Take on any pressures straight
Out of hell and still bail
In this game of life
Until im free leaving a trace
Of death faces
Cuz i got many weapons in place
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
it’s the dawn
finally broken
into half
the sun sett(l)ing
down forever
the moonshine fading
in the dimming glares
of the stars
i can see everything
in the imminent darkness
that is now
my tears
are black like
the sky against the world
my smile is tired
of the frowns and
the laughter
as the clock strikes 12
and i fall asleep (forever)
i am rudely awakened by
the sun screaming
into my half closed eyes
Dec 31, 2019
Dec 31, 2019 at 10:27 AM UTC