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VerbWhores Poem 2010

Started by the midnight watch baboon, January 22, 2010, 09:22:21 PM

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sirarthur

Clooney, Rooney,
George and Wayne,
One has the looks,
One has the brain,
One is a bull,
One is a fox,
But both are impressive,
When dribbling in the penalty area.

the midnight watch baboon

March has been rushed in to the ED
It's really in great fuckin' needy
It's laid on a drip
The LSM, it goes, "bip"
And April lurks around, all seedy.
What do we want from April?
I want pollen allergies,
And seventy murders.
Feel OAP hands as I post them trinklets
The "good-news postman"
No tigers on plates, no viagra
Just plummeting down, like Niagra
Sunlight filtering through unclean windows
Mustard-yellow teeth from smilers
Who should lay still in the earth.
Turmoil. In the soil.


Cerys

Clap your hands together
Because I'm wearing
Three t-shirts today
Go to sleep, sleepy
With a nappy on
When it's time
To go to bed.
Ah ah ah ah ah.

[(c) Bethan]

the midnight watch baboon

April, April, April, two.
A diet o' bananas.
Enables poo.

April, April, April fool.
I forgot this thread,
And its verby spool.

April, April, April, Easter,
Haaave you seen
My donkey Meeester?



falafel

The dormant buds begin to yen for sun
And branches bending quest towards the sky.
The rooster mounts the mother hen for fun,
Pulls out at climax, blobs her in the eye.
The playing fields are now obscured anew
By trees aburst opposite my window
And now I find it difficult to view
Dog-walkers walking dogs in fields below.
My pen is nearly dry; the ink has run.
This dodgy weather's fucking with the nib
May I propose a reset? I'm not done.
To say I like this poem is a fib.

Not keen on those two lines about the hens
But there's fuck all I can do, I'm out of pens.


the midnight watch baboon

May-be I could lend you a squirt!
Seep it into the juxtapozed dirt,
The brown-grey granules that rock your feet.
May-be I could moisten your nib!
As you refill your cartridge, close to your rib.
I could aid you with my meat.
May-be I could be your smudge!
Sweeten your prowse with my runny fudge.
I could be your staining teat.

May-be we could run away!

Where the scribblings of Spring could be our day.

We could have a winning retreat.

Ginyard

Fuck you,
Bush
It's time to stop blocking the side garden gate,
Bush
What are you even doing there in the first place?,
Bush
You eat up velcro balls and frisbies,
Bush
Are you happy now?,
Bush
Fuck you,
Bush

Ginyard

An archery club member in a forest entertaining himself in a non-sexual way

* Ba                                              - >
   The sound a loser makes!

* Back                                         - - >
   A step into the known!

* Backga                                   - - - >
   A noise a baby makes!

* Backgammon                       - - - - >
   An ancient game that makes me hungry!

* BackgammonommagkcaB   - - - - - >
   A palindrome of an ancient game that makes me hungry!

*                                                      - - - - - - >                                               [

*                                                                       - - - - - - >                              [

*                                                                                   - - - - - - >                  [

*                                                                                                         - - - - .';[
                                                                                                                         .
*                                                                                                                  .'.[
                                                                                                                        '

 

shit   :O(   

Cerys

I have sore lips so
Why am I still eating
Cheesy Doritos?

the midnight watch baboon

I hope that Ginyard's okay,
His rhymes got me going, like, "ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..........."

I pray that Cerys's lips,
Are in as good shape as my hips.

My hips are great.

sirarthur

Recently I've seen many folk unseated,
Racecourse uncompleted,
Candidates defeated,
Old mistakes repeated.

Add Cerys to the list then,
Becalmed,
Marooned,
Dry-landed,
Stranded...

Shoving Doritos into her pie-hole, two-handed.

Ginyard

Oh Zorro,
Oh Zorro,
Could I possibly borrow
Your mask
For a task
That involves your mum and a basque?


the midnight watch baboon

Sirloin steak, all in a warm salad.
Tuesday chimps, denizens in this ballad,
Mustard dressing, alone on the leaves,
Pele, Garrincha, Wayne and Jimmy Greaves!
From Southend's fun pier,
Up to the Brighton beaches,
Inland towards Sandy,
(No sand, but mad leeches)
O'er to High Wycombe,
The Chilterns hide its wonder,
Past Reading, Guildford, that small Dorking blunder,
Somewhere near Brum, a ghost of a scribe,
Coventry, Daventry, Some north Derby Tribe,
A field full o' Mans, some cunthole in Stoke,
Up west to Merseyside, the hilarious folk,
From Accrington's moors, and Blackburn's thin streams,
To Huddersfield's slants, and Ripley's ice creams,
To Skipton's vast dales, the ogre of the Lakes,
To Middlesbrough's dunes, Newcastle's 'fuck's sakes',
Bu that's all there is , this two-oh-ten summer,
For Scotland's too icy, and Wales is a bummer.

the midnight watch baboon

Oh, it's July,
The second born of 2010.
That's why the sun's not looking at us so hard today-
It wants you to sit back and think,
Don't get yourself machine-gunned down outside a boulangerie.
When the schoolkids break up,
you'll break up too.
Remembering that last day...

Memories of casting your tie into the river,
Well that tie has made its way around the world,
And could tell you a thing or two.

Yeah.


the midnight watch baboon

It is September.
That is why the blackberries thrumble.
Waiting to pissed on or placed in crumble.
That is why the wee ones look so sad.
They've got schhol again soon, and nary a hair on their nad.

Eight months buried of thee year.
Thou hast climbed unto a veneer.
A bay horse stood by a trough by a road.
The sun mid-height
Photo-ing autumnal code

Racing Santander
Have lost at home
Willow awaits leather to thwock
It's done it all summer
You massive cock

Wake me up when October rises.

Cerys

August sidles in
'Sorry I forgot the time!'
Bank holiday cunt.

Cambrian Times

Fourteenth falls rubies
For Mark.

Regrets now that song
Thirteen years dead.

Callouses fall from his fingers like snowflakes.

sirarthur

The apples, ripe, bough-bending weight,

Reaching downwards...

Lemming leaves in the trees, turn their backs to the breeze,

Leaping ground-wards...


This unstoppable, slow, grinding gear-change,

shifting the season...

And we know that it's so, when we rise and cry...

"I'm fucking freezing!!!"

Jemble Fred


the midnight watch baboon

Good for yer colon when brown,
Death for yer colon when white,
So gey yersen some wholemeal in,
Before the surgeon swims yer colon with light.