Category: Poetry


by shade

by shade

For sale to a good home only
The last of a lovely litter
One male pure bred zombie

Doesn’t answer to the name Clive.

His favourite food is brains
Though he’ll eat anything
If left unattended.

Clive likes stumbling around
So he’s easy to exercise
But best kept on a lead
As he can be overly affectionate.

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I have to say I’ve got a problem
With National Poetry Day.
The theme this year is the word Remember
Which fits with World War One okay,
But remember, remember barely rhymes.
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Have you seen the London Olympic Logo?

For me, it’s an utter no go

Epilepsy, you see

Runs in my family

And I don’t want to do the horizontal pogo

Oh no, and if you think the logo

Is a mucked-up corrupt pile of rot,

Have you seen the Olympic mascot?

It should have been an animal

Based on the reality

Of living in East London

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Now the dust has settled and the Eurovision has brought full free democracy to Azerbaijan by the medium of a song contest – or not. Here’s my take. So don’t worry if you missed the cheese fest. I’ve summed each of the 26 acts up in a line of verse so you won’t feel left out. And the poem is a lot shorter than the real thing.

 

Eurovision Entries 2012

 

Taxidermied crooner

Tick box electro pop

Bjork being tortured

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Cameron on his podium

Reassuring everyone

If you are passing in your car

And somewhat lacking in this commodity

Sidle up and try to aquire it casually

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Adverts amuse me and bemuse me in equal measure. Nowadays does anyone buy stuff on the say-so of an ad?

 

 

Lazy Eyes

Why are hot air balloons

Always a sign of freedom?

I’ve seen their image selling cars,

Broadband internet, incontinence knickers.

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For a bit of political balance, here’s one about the leader of the opposition…

Ed Milliband

Ed Milliband, Ed Milliband,

as bland as a rubber band.

In fact Ed Milliband

Is Milli Vanilli bland.

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Here’s another political poem, I wrote a couple of weeks back during the Lib Dem conference…

“Go back to you constituencies, and prepare for obliteration”

Nick Clegg, Nick Clegg,

your promises were a pile of smeg.

You’ve the poll ratings of a rotten egg.

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I’ve been avoiding the news the last few weeks, as it’s party conference season. I have a dislike of politicians (with very, very few exceptions) but Tories are particularly boke inducing. So I wrote this poem for their party conference which has started. In the interests of political balance, I have ones from the recent Lib Dems and Labour back slapping fests which I will post up later…

Tory Party Conference Poem

Tories bore me, Tories bore me

watch their falsehoods on TV

open their mouths, my eyes glaze over

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