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Discussion in 'Entertainment' started by Withnail, Apr 25, 2010.
King of the perennial holly-groves, the riven sandstone:
overlord of the M5:
architect of the historic rampart and ditch, the citadel at Tamworth, the summer hermitage in Holy Cross:
guardian of the Welsh Bridge and the Iron Bridge:
contractor to the desirable new estates: saltmaster: moneychanger: commissioner for oaths: martyrologist: the friend of Charlemagne.
‘I liked that,’ said Offa, ‘sing it again.’
Mercian Hymns - Geoffrey Hill
Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty-three
(which was rather late for me) -
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatles' first LP.
Up to then there'd only been
A sort of bargaining,
A wrangle for the ring,
A shame that started at sixteen
And spread to everything.
Then all at once the quarrel sank:
Everyone felt the same,
And every life became
A brilliant breaking of the bank,
A quite unlosable game.
So life was never better than
In nineteen sixty-three
(Though just too late for me) -
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatles' first LP.
I Heard Your Voice In The Wind Today - Unknown.
I heard your voice in the wind today
and I turned to see your face;
The warmth of the wind caressed me
as I stood silently in place.
I felt your touch in the sun today
as its warmth filled the sky;
I closed my eyes for your embrace
and my spirit soared high.
I saw your eyes in the window pane
as I watched the falling rain;
It seemed as each raindrop fell
It quietly said your name.
I held you close in my heart today
It made me feel complete;
You may have died...but you are not gone
You will always be a part of me.
As long as the sun shines...
the wind blows...
the rain falls...
You will live on inside of me forever
for that is all my heart knows.
I sometimes wonder whether it's science, or poetry. Just a couple of verses I hope demonstrates what I mean ...
"The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to it for help -- for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.”
The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam
Didn't he like them so much he bought the company?
If The World Was Crazy
If the world was crazy, you know what I'd eat?
A big slice of soup and a whole quart of meat,
A lemonade sandwich, and then I might try
Some roasted ice cream or a bicycle pie,
A nice notebook salad, and underwear roast,
An omelet of hats and some crisp cardboard toast,
A thick malted milk made from pencils and daisies,
And that's what I'd eat if the world was crazy.
If the world was crazy, you know what I'd wear?
A chocolate suit and a tie of eclair,
Some marshmallow earmuffs, some licorice shoes,
And I'd read a paper of peppermint news.
I'd call the boys 'Suzy' and I'd call the girls 'Harry,'
I'd talk through my ears, and I always would carry
A paper unbrella for when it grew hazy
To keep in the rain, if the world was crazy.
If the world was crazy, you know what I'd do?
I'd walk on the ocean and swim in my shoe,
I'd fly through the ground and I'd skip through the air,
I'd run down the bathtub and bathe on the stair.
When I met somebody I'd say 'G'bye, Joe,'
And when I was leaving - then I'd say 'Hello.'
And the greatest of men would be silly and lazy
So I would be king... if the world was cazy.
The first time that I tasted one
Was in the Promised Land.
One bite and my horizons
Very quickly did expand.
I ate them smeared on crusty bread
With just a little salt
And when I’d gained a dozen pounds,
I knew what was at fault.
And yet I kept on eating them,
With chips, as guacamole,
Well on my way to turning into
As years went by, I lost that weight
And now don’t stuff my face,
But avocados still retain
A flavor I embrace.
If you have never tried one,
You’ll be filled with sweet surprise,
But be careful oro un shopping,
You’ll go up at least one size!
I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL..
Lying here beside you dear, I turn and watch you sleep,
So blessed am I to have you, a love so strong and deep,
You always say you love me, but I really love you more,
That is until I'm startled by the most god awful snore!
The noise is so outrageous that it vibrates in my head,
I'm shaken like a rag doll, like an earthquake hit our bed,
I know in each relationship, there's highs and there are lows,
But what's that awful whistling sound that's coming from your nose?
I stare at you in utter shock, your mouth is gaping wide,
A sound like Old MacDonald's Farm, is coming from inside,
I throw the nearest thing at you, my empty coffee cup,
I shake you with my free hand and attempt to wake you up.
You told me that you didn't snore, I guess you told me fibs,
So I sharpen up my elbow and I smash you in the ribs!
You groan in pain and I believe, that silence will return,
I push your shoulder strongly in the hopes that you will turn.
Alas you are still sound asleep, although you fart and cough,
With a noise that's reminiscent of an Airbus taking off,
Your snores renew with vigor and grow louder than before,
So I kick you off the bed and you land loudly on the floor!
I don't believe this! What the F? How can you sleep through that?
I'm getting really angry now, I cannot sleep you twat!!
I lean across the bed to where you're lying on the floor,
Landed on your back I see? And still I hear you snore!
I call your name, there's no reply, it's like you're comatose,
So I reach my hand out in the dark and hold your bleddy nose,
You splutter and you're drooling, still sound asleep, no cares,
Oh sod this for a bleddy lark, I'm off to sleep downstairs!!
Bev Parkes 2015
I ate a jam tart,
Then did a fart.
But was it art?
No, it wasn't.
Who's the poet?
The German Guns
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom,
Boom, Boom, Boom,
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom,
Boom, Boom, Boom
Untitled Second Poem
Hear the words I sing,
War's a horrid thing,
So I sing sing sing...ding-a-ling-a-ling.
I SPOKE TO YOU IN WHISPERS
I spoke to you in whispers
As shells made the ground beneath us quake
We both trembled in that crater
A toxic muddy bloody lake
I spoke to you and pulled your ears
To try and quell your fearful eye
As bullets whizzed through the raindrops
And we watched the men around us die
I spoke to you in stable tones
A quiet tranquil voice
At least I volunteered to fight
You didn't get to make the choice
I spoke to you of old times
Perhaps you went before the plough
And pulled the haycart from the meadow
Far from where we're dying now
I spoke to you of grooming
Of when the ploughman made you shine
Not the shrapnel wounds and bleeding flanks
Mane filled with mud and wire and grime
I spoke to you of courage
As gas filled the Flanders air
Watched you struggle in the mud
Harness acting like a snare
I spoke to you of peaceful fields
Grazing beneath a setting sun
Time to rest your torn and tired body
Your working day is done
I spoke to you of promises
If from this maelstrom I survive
By pen and prose and poetry
I'll keep your sacrifice alive
I spoke to you of legacy
For when this hellish time is through
All those who hauled or charged or carried
Will be regarded heroes too
I spoke to you in dulcet tones
Your eye told me you understood
As I squeezed my trigger to bring you peace
The the only way I could
And I spoke to you in whispers......
Choked up, must have a bit of grit in my eyes...
11 December 2017 ·
Batteries not included ...
It is Christmas day today,
And all are full of cheer,
But I lay freezing on the step,
I always sleep right here.
I never get to go inside,
And join in all the fun,
I'm what they call a yard dog,
When all is said and done.
They have given me some scraps,
I think it was last week,
Now laying in the snow today,
I am feeling tired and weak.
I can hear the children playing,
As my head lay on my paws,
This time just last year,
I was a gift from Santa Claus.
I don't know what I did wrong,
To be shut out in the yard,
I only lived inside 6 months,
Since then my life's been hard.
The snow is falling heavy now,
I'm just a block of ice,
And when I breathe the cold cold air,
My lungs feel like a vice.
A miracle then came to pass,
An Angel did appear,
She glowed,and I could feel the heat,
As she floated near.
She reached her hand and beckoned,
It was such a sight to see,
She smiled and said "Good Dog,
It is time to come with me.
I will take you to the bridge,
Where all the Good Dogs go
You can play there in the sunshine,
There will be no freezing snow."
My bag of bones stood up then,
I shook the snow from off my fur,
And,as I slowly followed,
This is what I said to her.
"I am not a Good Dog though,
In that I think you're wrong,
No one would shut a Good Dog,
In the garden for so long."
The Angel turned and smiled,
As I walked with head hung low,
Then she said"I'm sorry,
I thought that you would know.
You really are a Good Dog,
The reason why your time is up,
It is just unfortunate,
You were born a Christmas pup."
I now live at the Rainbow Bridge,
And I am filled with joy,
But remember this at Christmas time,
A dog is NOT a toy.
To clarify this message,
To which I have eluded,
Animals are living things,
Batteries are not included ❤️
~ Author Unknown
In the fog
In the dark
Down a hole
With an owl
A brave aviator lay dying
And as on his deathbed he lay,
To his swearing mechanics around him
These last dying words he did say.
Take the cylinders out of my kidneys
The connecting rod of my brain,
From the small of my back take the gearbox
And assemble the engine again.
So gather up quickly the fragments
And when you've returned them to store,
Write a letter to Seely and tell him
His 141st is no more.
When the Court of Enquiry assembles
Please tell them the reason I died
Was because I forgot twice iota
Was the maximum angle of glide
So when I am dead I'll be joining
The Flying Corps up in the sky.
Lets hope they've studied iota
And the wings that they give us will fly.
WWI song, insert squadron of choice in verse three.
Wondrous is this masonry; shattered by fate
broken is the city; labours of giants crumble.
Fallen roofs, ruined towers,
the mutilated roof collapsed,
undermined by old age. Earth's embrace has
the deceased master builders,
the harsh grip of the ground, until a hundred generations
of people departed. Often this wall,
grey with lichen and red-hued remained through one kingdom after
another, remained standing under tempest; lofty and broad it collapsed.
Still the masonry the storms cut down
Fell on ...........................................,
Cruelly scraped and sharpened.........
................the ancient building...........,
...............,though crusts of mud ring.......
Heart.................swiftly wove together.
Resolute builder, with ingenuity of ring-mail,
bound the wall-brace together with wondrous metal wires.
Bright were the city building, the bathing halls many,
the abundance of high gables, the noise great -- as of an army,
many a mead hall full with the revelry of men
until the mighty fate changed that.
Slaughtered men fell far and wide, days of pestilence came,
death took away all the sword-valiant men;
the places of war became deserted places,
a decayed city. Rebuilders perished,
sanctuaries fell into earth. Forthwith these buildings great desolate,
and these red-curved tiles parted
with the vaulted ceiling. The ruins fell, perished,
shattered into mounds of stone, where formerly many a warrior,
joyous and bright with gold, with splendour adorned,
proud and flushed with wine, in war trappings shone.
They looked upon treasures; upon silver, upon precious stone,
upon wealth, upon property, upon jewellery
and upon the bright stronghold of this spacious kingdom.
Stone buildings stood and a stream holy surged forth;
a wall enclosed all in its bright bosom, there were the baths,
hot at its heart. That was so suitable.
The streams then poured hotly
over hoary, grey stone
into the circular pool
Where the baths were
..................a noble thing.
This house..........this city.
Author unknown, 9th century.
I made a little snowman, ss perfect as can be,
I thought I'd keep him as a pet, and let him sleep with me.
I made him some pyjamas, and a pillow for his head,
But last night he disappeared, and pissed me ruddy bed!