[Misc] NSC poetry corner

[METALMICKY]

The Rime of The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

One of the most most famous pieces of poetry as interpreted by my faves Iron Maiden

 

[Is it PotG?]

 

[Herr Tubthumper]

The Rime of The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

One of the most most famous pieces of poetry as interpreted by my faves Iron Maiden

And Rush’s Xanadu was inspired by Coleridge’s Kubla Khan.

 

[Goldstone1976]

Oh, go on. You know you want to.

 

[Swansman]

I do write poetry. Or rather lyrics, but it is poetry. Some of you have already heard these.

My most famous piece of poetry is this one about the Warsaw Radio Mast. It was a very high mast and this warranted poetry.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euN-KfR4PDw

Do you remeber the Warsaw Radio Mast?
Of all the buildings, it was the highest
Sixhundred and forty six meters tall,
It was the biggest of them all
It was the cock of a thousand negroes,
No white trash chick weighed those kilos
Designed by Jan Polak in nineteen seventy four
It was twenty six years younger than Al Gore

Warsaw (radio mast)
Warsaw (radio mast)
Warsaw (radio mast)

But one day in ninetyninety one, shit fell down
They were changing wires and it fell down
Some people died and some people cried
Poland was in a shock and lit candles of light
They planned to put it back,
But the local residents thought it was wack
So if you wanna see it you gotta relax
Lean back and imagine it while hearin this track

Another one is about this monkey dude. He was a bit of a thing in the 90s or so, with some believing he had very human features - one of them being that he sexually harassed people. That this apparently made people think he was more human than monkey fascinated me for various reasons. It says a lot about our fears about the species as well as how innocent we falsely think nature is.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icZo5bwZ97o

The scientists lost their mind and answers were hard to find
But one thing they knew for sure, he was one of a kind
Oliver the ape didnt commit any rape that is known to man
But he was known among females to be good with his hand
He had a face somewhat more human and walked upright
They called him a missing link and when asked upon he said alright
At the age of sixteen he tried to mate with his trainer Janet Berger
And while they went second base they never went further

Oliver the ape
Genius of rape
Oliver the ape
Genius of fake
Oliver the ape
Genius of rape
Oliver the ape
Genius of fake

In 1996 they checked his chromosones and he was chimpanzee
His tendency to walk uprighty didnt mean he got to be free
He was held in captivity and as a monkey with intention to rape
They always kept him under surveillance so he wouldnt escape
General interest disappeared when he wasnt the missing link
He was just a failure as an ape, being ugly and lacking ability to think
He got older and eventually died in two thousand and twelve
The burial was just ceremonial, fact is he went straight to hell
Oliver the ape
Genius of rape
Oliver the ape
Genius of fake
Oliver the ape
Genius of rape
Oliver the ape
Genius of fake

And last, I was studying Egypt stuff on some point or another and thought it was quite entertaining that one of the symbols of their generally very conservative society was this two-gendered individual, and how they tried to cover up that he most likely and boobs and a very very small penis. Obviously they would have wanted Tutankhamun to be some kind of magic manly man with a massive cock, but nay.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxmM1iuNI8g

Many many moons ago Howard Carter went into the cave
that lead into someones spaced out freaked out grave
He found Tutankhamun and knew what it meant
It wasnt about the smell, colour or that it was bent
But the weirdness of the genitals - sorry, the penis -
Was the lack of Mars and the presence of Venus
The Egyptians became ashamed and tried to hide it,
When they examined the corpse in 68, they couldnt find it

Chorus of cumming and come oning

The pride of Egypt could have been the God of LGBT
But the Egyptians probably saw it as a bit of a pity
In 68 they also found that some of his ribs were gone,
because it would have shown bigger boobs than those of mom
It was probably the result of inbreeding but its gready
Not to acknowledge the truth, thats why you need me
Admitting the intersex of the famous ruler
Would have made his name bigger and his heritage cooler

Chorus of cumming and come oning

Well I am Tutankhamun and they gave me a freaky kinky nation
with a total female population, I couldn't deal with their situation
But I didn't care about my reputation, I ruled the greatest nation
I had a couple of genders and did a couple of benders
But when I died at the age of nineteen it was meant to be seen
You should have read it in books or seen it at the movie screen
Intersexuality is a part of the world and while it wasnt common
It was the fact of me, the great ruler, Tutankhamun

 

[PILTDOWN MAN]

When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
Come back into my mind.


The great hills of the South Country
They stand along the sea;
And it's there walking in the high woods
That I could wish to be,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
Walking along with me.


The men that live in North England
I saw them for a day:
Their hearts are set upon the waste fells,
Their skies are fast and grey;
From their castle-walls a man may see
The mountains far away.


The men that live in West England
They see the Severn strong,
A-rolling on rough water brown
Light aspen leaves along.

They have the secret of the Rocks,
And the oldest kind of song.


But the men that live in the South Country
Are the kindest and most wise,
They get their laughter from the loud surf,
And the faith in their happy eyes
Comes surely from our Sister the Spring
When over the sea she flies;
The violets suddenly bloom at her feet,
She blesses us with surprise.


I never get between the pines
But I smell the Sussex air;
Nor I never come on a belt of sand
But my home is there.

And along the sky the line of the Downs
So noble and so bare.


A lost thing could I never find,
Nor a broken thing mend:
And I fear I shall be all alone
When I get towards the end.

Who will there be to comfort me
Or who will be my friend?

I will gather and carefully make my friends
Of the men of the Sussex Weald;
They watch the stars from silent folds,
They stiffly plough the field.

By them and the God of the South Country
My poor soul shall be healed.


If I ever become a rich man,
Or if ever I grow to be old,
I will build a house with deep thatch
To shelter me from the cold,
And there shall the Sussex songs be sung
And the story of Sussex told.


I will hold my house in the high wood
Within a walk of the sea,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
Shall sit and drink with me.

 

[PILTDOWN MAN]

On Sussex hills where I was bred,
When lanes in autumn rains are red.
Where Arun tumbles in his bed,
And busy great gusts go by;
When branch is bare in Burton Glen
And Bury Hill is a whitening, then
I drink strong ale with gentlemen;
Which nobody can deny, deny,
Deny, deny, deny, deny,
Which nobody can deny!

In half-November off I go,
To push my face against the snow,
And watch the winds wherever they blow,
Because my heart is high;
Till I settle me down in Steyning to sing
Of the women I met in my wandering,
And of all that I mean to do in the spring,
Which nobody can deny, deny,
Deny, deny, deny, deny,
Which nobody can deny!

Though times be rude and weather be rough,
And ways be foul and fortune tough,
We are of the stout South Country stuff,
That never can have good ale enough,
And do this chorus cry!
From Crowboro' Top to Ditchling Down,
From Hurstpierpoint to Arundel Town,
The girls are plump and the ale is brown:
Which nobody can deny, deny,
Deny, deny, deny, deny!
If he does he tells a lie!

 

[Smillie's People]

There once was a Wimbledon fan,
Who fancied Harmony Tan,
He served her a double,
expecting no trouble,
but he then got a tennis-court ban.

 

[el punal]

Here I sit broken hearted,

Tried to shit and only farted.

(Ode to the Anus,1798).

 

[The Antikythera Mechanism]

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I'll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?

Spike Milligan

 

[Tom Hark Preston Park]

Mary had a little lamb
She also had a bear
I've often seen her little lamb
But I've never seen her bear

 

[Super Steve Earle]

Nothing I've written, but the only poem I know by heart is also a Spike Milligan classic:

Mrs Dighty
In her nightie
Walking in the dark
Trod upon
A puppy dog's tail
And made the creature bark.
Mrs Dighty
In her nightie
Let the puppy go
By lifting up
Her instep
And raising her
Big toe.

 

[bhadebenhams]

Corbyn is great,
Tories are poo,
Vote Labour, Vote Labour, Vote Labour

Can’t remember who wrote this though.

 

[Lever]

Roger Mc Gough (in response to Rupert Brooke's 'The Patriot')

Why patriots are a bit
nuts in the head (1967) - from Strictly Private Anthology

Patriots are a bit nuts in the head
because they wear
red white and blue tinted spectacles
(red for blood,
white for glory
and blue ... for a boy)
and are in effervescent danger
of losing their lives.
Lives are good for you.
When you are alive
you can eat and drink a lot
and go out with girls
(sometimes
if you are lucky
you can even go to bed with them)
But you can't do this
if you have your belly shot away
and your seeds spread out over some corner
of a foreign field
to facilitate
in later years
the growing of oats
by some peasant yobbo

when you are posthumous
it is cold and dark
and that is why patriots
are a bit nuts in the head

 

[Neville's Breakfast]

Corbyn is great,
Tories are poo,
Vote Labour, Vote Labour, Vote Labour

Can’t remember who wrote this though.

Thew

 

[Pavilionaire]

There was a young lady from Leeds
Who swallowed a packet of seeds
Huge tufts of grass
Sprang from her arse
And her tits were all covered in weeds

 

[Lever]

DEATH IS SMALLER THAN I THOUGHT

My Mother and Father died some years ago
I loved them very much.
When they died my love for them
Did not vanish or fade away.
It stayed just about the same,
Only a sadder colour.
And I can feel their love for me,
Same as it ever was.

Nowadays, in good times or bad,
I sometimes ask my Mother and Father
To walk beside me or to sit with me
So we can talk together
Or be silent.

They always come to me.
I talk to them and listen to them
And think I hear them talk to me.
It’s very simple –
Nothing to do with spiritualism
Or religion or mumbo jumbo.

It is imaginary.
It is real.
It is love.

© 2008, the estate of Adrian Mitchell
From: In Person: 30 Poets
Publisher: Bloodaxe Books, Tarset

 

[LamieRobertson]

there once was a man called keith

who was a dirty thief

he tried to nick my bike and shit

so i knocked out all his teeth.

So it was you! Boohoo

 

[The Clamp]

I’m a published poet, don’t you know.

I don’t write fiction / poetry much anymore but get the odd short story published here and there.

Nothing I’d post here though. Buy the book like all the other plebs.

 

[Moshe Gariani]

I saw Len Hutton in his prime
Another time
another time

(Harold Pinter)