[Misc] National poetry day.

[lawros left foot]

It’s the one we’ve all been waiting for, National Poetry Day.

My contribution,


Oh Lord above, send down a dove,
With wings as sharp as razors,
To cut the throats of all the blokes,
Who sell bad beer to Sailors.

 

[Jack Straw]

Poetry Day?
I hadn't a clue.
But now I know.
It's thanks to you.

 

[schmunk]

Algy met a bear;
the bear was bulgy;
the bulge was Algy.

 

[Goldstone1976]

Who do I support?
Brighton and Hove Albion.
Palace can F*** off.

 

[Smirko]

Poem about microbes -

Adam 'adam.

I thank you.

 

[Is it PotG?]

 

[vegster]

Somewhat topical from the late, great, Spike Milligan.

Smiling is infectious , you catch it like the flu, When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling too.
I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin. ...
So, if you feel a smile begin, don't leave it undetected. Let's start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected!l

 

[Perfidious Albion]

From the great Pam Ayers....

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY - (a husband's point of view)

The missus bought a Paperback,
down Shepton Mallet way,
I had a look inside her bag;
... T'was "Fifty Shades of Grey".

Well I just left her to it,
And at ten I went to bed.
An hour later she appeared;
The sight filled me with dread...

In her left she held a rope;
And in her right a whip!
She threw them down upon the floor,
And then began to strip.

Well fifty years or so ago;
I might have had a peek;
But Mabel hasn't weathered well;
She's eighty four next week!!

Watching Mabel bump and grind;
Could not have been much grimmer.
And things then went from bad to worse;
She toppled off her Zimmer!

She struggled back upon her feet;
A couple minutes later;
She put her teeth back in and said
I am a dominater !!

Now if you knew our Mabel,
You'd see just why I spluttered,
I'd spent two months in traction
For the last complaint I'd uttered.

She stood there nude and naked
Bent forward just a bit
I went to hold her, sensual like
and stood on her left tit!

Mabel screamed, her teeth shot out;
My god what had I done!?
She moaned and groaned then shouted out:
"Step on the other one"!!

Well readers, I can't tell no more;
About what occurred that day.
Suffice to say my jet black hair,
Turned fifty shades of grey.

 

[aberllefenni]

Tory government unemployment figures by Roger McGough

Tory government. Unemployment. Figures.

 

[Is it PotG?]

Tory government unemployment figures by Roger McGough

Tory goverment. Unemployment. Figures.

McGough can spell better than that.

 

[aberllefenni]

Spotted as soon as I hit post button. I didn't realise that pedants/spelling police could move faster than the speed of light.

 

[Is it PotG?]

Spotted as soon as I hit post button. I didn't realise that pedants/spelling police could move faster than the speed of light.

Would you not concur that poetry is often a beautiful expression of language, and therefore accuracy in spelling and grammar essential?

 

[aberllefenni]

Would you not concur that poetry is often a beautiful expression of language, and therefore accuracy in spelling and grammar essential?

I wood (see what I did there).

 

[Tom Hark Preston Park]

Leon Knight
He's Alright

 

[Badger Boy]

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
poems are hard,
get in the van.

 

[Pint of Ale and a Burger]

I really love the daffodils poem
Beautiful work of art that one.

 

[Music City Gull]

My personal favorite

How very simple life would be
If only there were two of me
A Restless Me to drift and roam
A Quiet Me to stay at home.
A Searching One to find his fill
Of varied skies and newfound thrill
While sane and homely things are done
By the domestic Other One.

And that's just where the trouble lies;
There is a Restless Me that cries
For chancy risks and changing scene,
For arctic blue and tropic green,
For deserts with their mystic spell,
For lusty fun and raising Hell,

But shackled to that Restless Me
My Other Self rebelliously
Resists the frantic urge to move.
It seeks the old familiar groove
That habits make. It finds content
With hearth and home — dear prisonment,
With candlelight and well-loved books
And treasured loot in dusty nooks,

With puttering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the Restless One
Insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide,
No matter where…just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.

One eye turns to the forward track,
The other eye looks sadly back.
I'm getting wall-eyed from the strain,
(It's tough to have an idle brain)
But One says "Stay" and One says "Go"
And One says "Yes," and One says "No,"
And One Self wants a home and wife
And One Self craves the drifter's life.

The Restless Fellow always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins.

 

[Pint of Ale and a Burger]

The charge of the light brigade one is also magnificent."into the valley of death rode the 600"
Dramatic stuff,very powerful.

 

[GT49er]

The common cormorant (or shag)
Lays eggs inside a paper bag.
The reason you will see, no doubt,
It iis to keep the lightning out.
But what the unobservant birds
Have failed to notice Is that herds
Of wandering bears would come with buns
And steal the bags to hold the crumbs!

Christopher Isherwood



P.S. If you love poetry, give The Prelude a big miss!

 

[Juan Albion]

The Brewing of Soma by John Greenleaf Whittier

The fagots blazed, the caldron's smoke
Up through the green wood curled;
"Bring honey from the hollow oak,
Bring milky sap," the brewers spoke,
In the childhood of the world.

And brewed they well or brewed they ill,
The priests thrust in their rods,
First tasted, and then drank their fill,
And shouted, with one voice and will,
"Behold the drink of gods!"

They drank, and lo! in heart and brain
A new, glad life began;
The gray of hair grew young again,
The sick man laughed away his pain,
The cripple leaped and ran.

"Drink, mortals, what the gods have sent,
Forget your long annoy."
So sang the priests. From tent to tent
The Soma's sacred madness went,
A storm of drunken joy.

Then knew each rapt inebriate
A winged and glorious birth,
Soared upward, with strange joy elate,
Beat, with dazed head, Varuna's gate,
And, sobered, sank to earth.

The land with Soma's praises rang;
On Gihon's banks of shade
Its hymns the dusky maidens sang;
In joy of life or mortal pang
All men to Soma prayed.

The morning twilight of the race
Sends down these matin psalms;
And still with wondering eyes we trace
The simple prayers to Soma's grace,
That Vedic verse embalms.

As in that child-world's early year,
Each after age has striven
By music, incense, vigils drear,
And trance, to bring the skies more near,
Or lift men up to heaven!

Some fever of the blood and brain,
Some self-exalting spell,
The scourger's keen delight of pain,
The Dervish dance, the Orphic strain,
The wild-haired Bacchant's yell,--

The desert's hair-grown hermit sunk
The saner brute below;
The naked Santon, hashish-drunk,
The cloister madness of the monk,
The fakir's torture-show!

And yet the past comes round again,
And new doth old fulfil;
In sensual transports wild as vain
We brew in many a Christian fane
The heathen Soma still!

Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways!
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise.

In simple trust like theirs who heard
Beside the Syrian sea
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee.

O Sabbath rest by Galilee!
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
The silence of eternity
Interpreted by love!

With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of Thy call,
As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
As fell Thy manna down.

Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.


Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm!