Month: November 2016

Shakespeare’s Love Child

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Shakespeare goes into his local, walks up to the bar and orders a pint. ‘No chance’ the landlord says. ‘Why not? says Will.  The landlord shakes his head, ‘I’ve told you, your bard.’……………yes that was pretty awful, I’m sorry.

I’ve been writing shit poems for years and I think it’s about time that I inflicted them onto the unwary few that read my blog. I’d like to be the next Hovis Presley or John Cooper Clarke but I’m more like Rick from the young ones.

Anyway here’s the first one:

 

clown

I WANDERED LONELY WITH A CLOWN

I wandered lonely with a clown I met one night in Alderley Edge

He shoes were big and his nose was red

He was pissed and I pulled him from a Hawthorn hedge

He’d been for a curry; said his name was Reg

He said he had a passion for growing veg

I said that I didn’t believe him.

 

I asked him how he landed here

He gave me a grin which was more like a leer

He said he’d been with Clarkson from Top Gear

His Aston Martin was parked near here

He said they’d been for a Vindaloo and beer

I said that I didn’t believe him.

 

We walked for a while, he was honking his clowns horn

I said “you’ll wake the neighbours it’s getting near dawn”

Then we sat for a while on somebody’s lawn

And he told me he was big in Porn

I was bored with his lies and I started to yawn

I said that I didn’t believe him.

 

I couldn’t get rid of this red wigged fool

I don’t talk to strangers when I’m out as a rule

He was dressed like a clown, though he looked like tool

He said he’d installed Wayne Rooney’s pool

He told me Alex Ferguson was really cool

I said that  I didn’t believe him.

 

We’d reached my house and he still wouldn’t shift

I said “see you mate” but he didn’t catch my drift

I had to make a move and I had to do it swift

He gave me a hug and his armpits whiffed

He said “Jenson Button’s going to give me a lift”

I said that I didn’t believe him.

 

While we were waiting for Jenson to arrive

The bastard started singing ‘I will survive’

He was telling me how good it felt to be alive

When Jenson’s Ferrari came skidding up my drive

Jenson got out, gave the clown a High Five

He turned and said “now do you believe me?”

 

This next poem was inspired by my first impressions of Wilmslow and Alderley Edge when I moved here quite a while ago now. Wilmslow isn’t quite so bad but I still get followed around the Hooper’s department store so I avoid going there if I can. Alderley is a great people watching place but I can still feel a little like Cinderella before the transformation when we go there. Hope you like my ode to misfits and those who don’t fit the bill!

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LAST BUS TO GEEK TOWN

It can be a bit grim if you’re not stick thin

If your hair isn’t long then you won’t fit in

If you’re over 6 stone and your nose is your own

You’d better take the last bus to geek town.

 

You’ll be followed around when you walk in the store

If you’re bag is by Primark and not Dior

If you haven’t got a Porsche then you’re just too poor

So you’d better take the last bus to geek town.

 

If you haven’t had Botox to make your face tight

If your skin is still white then that can’t be right

This is no place for you on a Saturday night

Just get on that last bus to geek town

 

You’d better learn to air kiss and smile like you mean it

Make sure that staying rich is part of your remit

Spend on your card till it’s up to the limit

Or you’ll be on the last bus to geek town

 

Whatever you do don’t smile at a local

They’ll just thing your weird or some kind of yokel

Try and get in a club and some big bloke will

Shove you on the last bus to geek town

 

It’s all footballers’ wives with stars in their eyes

The people round here are intent on the prize

It’s really not for you so take my advice

Book your ticket for the last bus to geek town.

 

This next one is about a gentleman with a taste for unusual looking ladies. They do say there is someone out there for everyone!

 

rose

MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED, RED ROSE

My love is like a red, red, rose

At least that’s the colour of her nose

She’s got hair on her hands and on her toes

But she’s mine and I love her

 

We get strange looks when we walk down the street

You could ride your bike through the gaps in her teeth

She got webbed feet which is quite unique

But she’s mine and I love her

 

My mates say she smells like the undead

But I don’t care cos she’s great in bed

She takes out her teeth when she gives me head

And she’s mine and I love her

 

She’ll never be my blushing bride

She won’t walk down the aisle as her hips are too wide

But putting all of that aside

She’s mine and I love her

 

When we make love I could get concussed

By a blow to the head from her fifty inch bust

It’s worth the risk when she fills me with lust

Cos she’s mine and I love her

 

She drove the bus of love and I got on it

You wouldn’t believe what’s under her bonnet

That’s why I had to write this sonnet

She’s mine and I love her.

I wrote this as a protest poem after too many long walks…..nuff said.

sheep-shit

DARK SKIES AND SHEEP SHIT

Come for a walk in the Peak District

You said one Saturday morning

I wasn’t quite awake yet

I was scratching my arse and yawning

 

Ok I said ‘How long’s this walk?’

You said ‘Just eighteen miles’

I wondered how my feet would cope

I worried for your piles

 

We set of way too early

We were there by half past nine

I was struggling with a hangover

From cider and red wine

 

The first five miles were easy

In fact they were rather pleasant

We rambled along country paths

Passing horses, sheep and Pheasant

 

It got to mile eleven

We stopped to rest and eat

I said my legs were buggered

I’d got blisters on my feet

 

When we had done fifteen miles

My enthusiasm was waning

I was sick of sheep and cow shit

And it had started raining

 

When we had done eighteen miles

I could not have got much wetter

Then the sun came out, the rain dried up

And I started feeling better

 

I’d realised I’d enjoyed the walk

I stood in contemplation

To think I had walked eighteen miles

Was quite a revelation

 

I’d like to do it all again

Maybe next weekend

Because ten hours alone with you

Is time I’ll gladly spend

 

Well I did  warn you! Hope you enjoyed my daft ditties, maybe they’ll inspire you to try to write one yourself. If you have a go, post one to me I’d love to read it!

xxxxxxx

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