Reply to: Friday Poetry Corner

[steve'O]

Welsh hip-hop is alive and well isn'it........

[ratewhore]

and now for something more lightweight

I seen you last night, you were drinkin' in the pub,
You were drinkin' with that bird you tried to chat up in the nightclub,
Can't say her name but she's got a gammy eye,
And I'm feeling near her violence when I have to walk on by,
You can't deny it, it's something you can't miss,
That bird thats hangin' out with you is mad like cats p1ss,
Like bread and jam or a knife drawn with butter,
Face it son, your missus is a nutter!

Oh son, your missus is a nutter!
Oh son, your missus is a nutter!
Oh son, your missus is a nutter!
Leave her at home! Your missus is a nutter!

I never seen a woman make a skinhead cry,
And I never seen a woman tryin' to snap an arm with a thigh,
Now I have and its just across the pub,
And the worst thing is,
she's taking you out for a rub,
You don’t deserve it, you know it’s a fact,
But mix her up with booze you gotta suicide pact,
2 tequilas and 4 vodka mules,
She's a wrecking ball and her fists are the tools.

Binge drinking, binge drinking tried keeping up with your missus,
What was I thinking?
She looks like Caprice,
But it’s a shock to see her wrestling 2 police,
With one in a headlock!
Fighting with bouncers and flashing her bits,
After too flamin’ sambucas she dont care who she hits,
Waking up on Sunday morning with bruises and cuts,
Face it son, your missus is nuts!

Your missus was looking at my missus,
So my missus, sparked out your missus,
Your missus was looking at my missus,
So my missus, sparked out your missus,


It was last week, what really got me thinking,
About how your missus goes nuts when we go drinking,
Last week, she ended up on a binge, she got off her tits,
And showed the bouncers her minge,
And it’s the threat of grievous bodily harm,
She needs to keep calm,
And use her charm,
I used to think it was funny,
It made me laugh,
When she threw the ash trays at the bar staff.


Stabbed a man with a comb, just to get a drink,
Theres no logic, just stand there

Drink, fight, drink, fight, drink

She grabs your throat, and stares into your eyes,
Have you ever seen a woman kill a man with her thighs?

Oh son, your missus is trouble,
Everytime you have a drink she has a double,
Is she on pukkas?
I think shes tripping?
Stop lookin' at me love it's water what I'm sippin'.

[AlfredJPruffock]

Don't worry about Death Alfie, it's a doddle! Like falling off a log really. Ok, like falling off a log that's quite high up...

Death is the easy part in this life, its the hell served for breakfast in between the cradle and the graveyard thats the pain.


He not busy being born is busy dying.

Bob Dylan

And another quote from Mr Zimmerman


What's money? A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.

Bob Dylan
US singer & songwriter (1941 - )

[The Late, Great JC]

Yes indeed JG , it was written about Hitler, WH Auden wrote much thematic poetry concerning WW2.


Thoughts of Alifes death disturbed him like the distant sound of thunder at a picnic on a summers afternoon.

Don't worry about Death Alfie, it's a doddle! Like falling off a log really. Ok, like falling off a log that's quite high up...

[AlfredJPruffock]

One of the few poems I memorised from school Alf - found it very powerful - think it was written about Hitler - couldn't swear to it though

Yes indeed JG , it was written about Hitler, WH Auden wrote much thematic poetry concerning WW2.


Thoughts of Alifes death disturbed him like the distant sound of thunder at a picnic on a summers afternoon.

[John Galt]

One of the few poems I memorised from school Alf - found it very powerful - think it was written about Hitler - couldn't swear to it though

[AlfredJPruffock]

Just think ...

Aye JG

Good to see a bit of WH on the poetry forum , I remember publishing this one shortly before the Iraq War (or have NL banned all discussion of this topic?)

I think the poems title is Epitaph for a Tyrant .

I found the line ... When he cried little children died in the streets ... reminded me of a documentary on French TV which showed the most ghastly images of Iraqi childrens charred corpses from allied bombs that went astray.

Right, moving on , it all ends in Death you know, and a wee poem from Rober Service titled ... Just Think !


Just think! some night the stars will gleam

Upon a cold, grey stone,
And trace a name with silver beam,
And lo! 'twill be your own.

That night is speeding on to greet
Your epitaphic rhyme.

Your life is but a little beat
Within the heart of Time.

A little gain, a little pain,
A laugh, lest you may moan;

A little blame, a little fame,
A star-gleam on a stone.

[The Late, Great JC]

One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin' you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him.
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more talk
Than he uses yours for his spendings,
And laugh and meet in your daily walk
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man he's worth 'em all,
Because you can show him your feelings.

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight --
With that for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot -- and after!

[John Galt]

Perfection of a kind was what he was after
The poetry he invented was easy to understand
He knew Human folly like the back of his hand

When he laughed respectable senators burst with laughter
When he cried little children died in the streets

W. H. Auden

[AlfredJPruffock]

September


We sit late, watching the dark slowly unfold:
No clock counts this.

When kisses are repeated and the arms hold
There is no telling where time is.

It is midsummer: the leaves hang big and still:
Behind the eye a star,

Under the silk of the wrist a sea, tell
Time is nowhere.

We stand; leaves have not timed the summer.
No clock now needs

Tell we have only what we remember:
Minutes uproaring with our heads

Like an unfortunate King's and his Queen's
When the senseless mob rules;

And quietly the trees casting their crowns
Into the pools.


Ted Hughes

[Lucifer Box]

Not quite a happy poem, but a gay song. Well, why not seeing as Chico has just come out of "The Closet".

The British Police are the best in the world
I don't believe one of these stories I've heard
'Bout them raiding our pubs for no reason at all
Lining the customers up by the wall
Picking out people and knocking them down
Resisting arrest as they're kicked on the ground
Searching their houses and calling them queer
I don't believe that sort of thing happens here

Sing if you're glad to be gay
Sing if you're happy that way

Pictures of naked young women are fun
In Titbits and Playboy, page three of The Sun
There's no nudes in Gay News our last magazine
But they still find excuses to call it obscene
Read how disgusting we are in the press
The News of The World and the Sunday Express
Molesters of children, corruptors of youth
It's there in the paper, it must be the truth

Sing if you're glad to be gay
Sing if you're happy that way

Don't try to kid us that if you're discreet
You're perfectly safe as you walk down the street
You don't have to mince or make bitchy remarks
To get beaten unconscious and left in the dark
I had a friend who was gentle and short
Got lonely one evening and went for a walk
Queerbashers caught him and kicked in his teeth
He was only hospitalised for a week

Sing if you're glad to be gay
Sing if you're happy that way

So sit back and watch as they close all our clubs
Arrest us for meeting and raid all our pubs
Make sure your boyfriend's at least 21
So only your friends and your brothers get done
Lie to your workmates, lie to your folks
Put down the queens and tell anti-queer jokes
Gay Lib's ridiculous, join their laughter
'The buggers are legal now, what more are they after?'

Sing if you're glad to be gay
Sing if you're happy that way

[SandyDown]

why can't we have a happy poem??

You Asked For A Happy Poem



Well, here it is. A happy poem.
A poem with a dog, and a beach
and a sunset, two people walking,
the dishes are done, no hint
of rain, there's money in the bank.
Do you see them? The lovers
polish the stars with their breath,
rub sentences together, listen
to the man in the moon.
Did I tell you there is a moon?
There are no wrinkles, no noses
that get in the way, no sand
that irritates delicate areas. No.
The moon sprinkles away thoughts
about the strangeness of bodies,
about the brief delay in time
where one misses the other's
desire to be kissed, or the sudden
intrusion of winter in the middle
of a heat wave.



(dunno who wrote this)

[Chico]

For Kate Moss and others

My name is Cocaine


My name is Cocaine - call me Coke for short.
I entered this country without a passport.
Ever since then I've made lots of scum rich.
Some have been murdered and found in a ditch.
I'm more valued than diamonds, more treasured than gold.
Use me just once and you too will be sold.
I'll make a schoolboy forget his books.
I'll make a beauty queen forget her looks.
I'll take renowned speaker and make a bore.
I'll take a mother and make her a whore.
I'll make a schoolteacher forget how to teach.
I'll make a preacher not want to preach.
I'll take all your rent money and you'll get evicted.
I'll murder your babies or they'll be born addicted.
I'll make you rob and steal and kill.
When you're under my power you have no will.
Remember my friend my name is " Big C ".
If you try me just one time you may never be free.
I've destroyed actors, politicians and many a hero.
I've decreased bank accounts from millions to zero.
I make shooting and stabbing a common affair.
Once I take charge you won't have a prayer.
Now that you know me what will you do ?
You'll have to decide, It's all up to you.
The day you agree to sit in my saddle.
The decision is one that no one can straddle.
Listen to me, and please listen well.
When you ride with cocaine you are headed for hell !!!

Anon

[wc2]

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.


Pastor Martin Niemöller

Deep - very deep

[threaded]

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.


Pastor Martin Niemöller