The first shit christmas poem of 2020 maybe

[Chedney Honks]

Yeah I don't want to encourage a pile on, just saw that fucking shit poem.

[Kankurette]

You dumb bastard.

Edit: I mean, it's a pastiche, sorry.

Poe's Law strikes again. (I have seen actual poems which are like this.)

[steve98]

The problem with that Hitler has only got one ball shit attempt at parody is the Poor old Goebbels has no balls at all line: no Brit politician has a name that rhymes with Goebbels (Certainly Priti Patel hasn't).

LATER.

Johnson has only got one cock,
Patel has two (check underneath her smock).
Rishi has something dishy,
But poor old Hancock has no cock at all.

(Remember fellas it's supposed to be shit)

LATER STILL.

You could try nut: Johnston has only got one nut...

[Catalogue Trousers]

With this Covid Christmas my soul plunged to floor.
'Cause Santa and Rudolf they won't fly no more:
But fear not! A gift's come which makes my heart soar -
An Indian lad dropped off by Captain Tom Moore!

[steve98]

It's the addition of lad that makes that a shit poem. If you'd just said "An Indian dropped off by Captain Tom Moore" (omitting "lad"), it would have scanned (Still wouldn't have rhymed of course), and wouldn't be nearly as bad. Well done.

(Also it's fun to picture the old bore doing Indian-meal deliveries (with his zimmer).

[Catalogue Trousers]

Why, thank you! It does scan if you compress Indian into Injun - but then again, it was meant to be crap...

[steve98]

Yes, but Injun means red-Indian, and Tom wouldn't be delivering a red-Indian, would he? (Not that it matters of course)... (but would he?)

[SpiderChrist]

Maxine has shat out another perfectly formed shit nugget, with some proper deso:

Our Childhood Way Back When

The street lights were our curfew
As we went outside to play
Building dens and climbing trees
What a way to spend the day

Hopscotch and French skipping
Was always so much fun
And when it came to kiss chase
Boy how fast we'd run!

Knock down ginger was the best
Tap tap on that front door
Already turned and on our heals
As the owner starts to roar

Boys all playing football games
Come rain, shine or snow
With muddy boots and dirty clothes
But such a healthy glow

Playing on the building sites
Gosh how bad were we
Out of sight and phoneless
The grownups didn't see

Long bike rides were a must
No hands a daily thrill
No fear or trepidation
Riding down the steepest hill

Cat's cradle and crazy jacks
As well as pick up sticks
All of these old fashioned toys
Made for the perfect mix

A tennis ball in a pair of tights
Made for hours of fun
If you grew up as an only child
The perfect game for one

The hours we spent scrumping
And foraging with glee
More often than not in places
Where we really shouldn't be

Hold on to these memories
A treat from yesteryear
As you think upon them now
I hope they fill your heart with cheer.

[idunnosomename]

I thought a tennis ball in tights was what you used to beat kids with

[steve98]

That's fantastically shit!! O it's great. Well done Maxine.

[steve98]

I thought a tennis ball in tights was what you used to beat kids with

You'd tie the non-tennis ball end round your ankle and make the tennis ball end spin round, and skip over it each time it came round.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Maxine has shat out another perfectly formed shit nugget, with some proper deso:

I don't think anything produces such a specific emotion as my reaction when I read one of these Year 8-standard poetry attempts by adults harking back to them days.

[Ominous Dave]

(As I've nothing better to do tonight, here's the poem in the OP in a modernist style:)

With Christmas soon upon us, stirring
This pandemic filled year, renowned for
Celebration with people, nearing
We all wonder whether, we and
Our loved ones can all be together.

"With different covid tiers now actively in play
It feels like they may actually ruin the big day"

...but let's turn this situation on its head.

What are the masks that clutch, what vaccines grow
Out of the likes of skype and zoom?
Heart-warmingly bringing loved ones into your front room
There is shadow in this front room
(Come in under the shadow of this front room)
And I will show you loved ones separated by distance,
But not totally apart.
Surely this knowledge brings joy to your heart?

Pause to think of others living near to you
They may need your help, is there something you can do?

It won't bring your loved ones
Into your home.
I think we're in Matt's alley
Where the Hancocks lost their bones.

But it will enforce for all that we're not on our own...

Children of all ages
Are so terribly excited
Oblivious to who
Was originally invited
Captured by the magic and wonder of the day
Brimming with the prospect...

Find warmth in the festivities, decorate that tree
With tinsel and baubles, the best it can be
HURRY UP PLEASE WE'RE CLOSING FOREVER
A scatter of Christmas cards draped on the wall
A nice display of decorations brightening up the hall
HURRY UP PLEASE WE'RE CLOSING FOREVER
There will be folks this year spending Christmas all alone
For many a reason, to us unbeknown
HURRY UP PLEASE WE'RE CLOSING FOREVER
They can't join your households, the rules won't allow

Why not plate them up a meal, to include them somehow
Why not plate them up a meal
Burning burning burning burning
O Lord I've left the oven on
O Lord I've left
burning

DA
Datta: This Christmas will be different, of that there is no doubt
DA
Dayadhvam: Let's try to make the best of it, figure something out
DA
Damyata: The pandemic may physically keep us apart

...but hold on for tomorrow with hope in your heart

Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
           Santa Santa Santa

[steve98]

That's brilliant, well done. "Santa Santa Santa" :)

[Kankurette]

I wonder if, in twenty years, people who grew up in the '90s will write awful poetry about Sega Master Systems and Pogs and Man United winning everything.

[idunnosomename]

love a good eliot dunk. cheers for the effort. i want to parody a single line to show I appreciate it and can't even manage one

[steve98]

I like the way he's forced in "unbeknown", as a nod to the great Maxine.

[Ray Travez]

You'd tie the non-tennis ball end round your ankle and make the tennis ball end spin round, and skip over it each time it came round.

You'd tie it round your ankle
And make the ball end spin
You'd jump right over, for an hour
Then toss it in the bin

...or use it as a wank sock
And fill it up with jizz
When it smelt of yeast you'd call a priest
And ask to borrow his

Such happy times of yesteryear!
They almost make me cry
I once had half my brain removed
And put into a pie

[Elderly Sumo Prophecy]

Twenty twenty one
Baldness looms in near future
I will kill again

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Sunderland
Golliwogs on Jam
Steak bake slime and dogs in a pram
While drinking Dolmio straight from the jar
It's time to reflect on the scum that we are

[Chedney Honks]

That's the top tier shit.

[SpiderChrist]

https://www.udrop.com/hf61/DB3E0C37-4BE4-41BC-BBE7-6A410CF9240B.png

Fuck it post

[steve98]

Nice one Christ. That Maxine is like a modern day Vera, keepin' our spirits up and comforting us with the assurance that better times are coming soon. Silly cow.

[SpiderChrist]

I used to work with Maxine. She has a very Liverpudlian accent, which I think just adds to the enjoyment. I could probably arrange a bunk up poetry reading session with her for any interested CABbers.

[JesusAndYourBush]

There was a poem as part of the London new Year fireworks that was a bit crappy.  Plus I'm sure it wasn't original as I'm pretty sure I read the same poem in a meme on facebook a few weeks earlier!

[Kankurette]

The absolute nadir is 'I remember the corned beef of my childhood'.

[steve98]

^ It's a bit risque.

I remember the slap on my backside
Of the balls of the priest as he swore:
"I'll teach you to diss Baby Jesus,
Ya fecking ungodly wee hoor."

[jenna appleseed]

Sunderland
Golliwogs on Jam
Steak bake slime and dogs in a pram
While drinking Dolmio straight from the jar
It's time to reflect on the scum that we are

Sung to the tune of Mistletoe and wine?

[Kankurette]

Sunderland
Golliwogs on Jam
Steak bake slime and dogs in a pram
While drinking Dolmio straight from the jar
It's time to reflect on the scum that we are

It's the fun bus.

[idunnosomename]

2020, what a year!
A rollercoaster built on fear.
Bats were blamed as sickness spread,
We'd no idea what lay ahead.
Dead bodies lay on China's roadside,
Caught on film and shared worldwide.
The Chinese guided us with care,
Taught world leaders everywhere.
How to lock their nation down,
How to silence every town.
Our leaders gently took our hands,
Led us gently as was planned.
They made it fun, we clapped and danced,
Our eyes on screens, quite entranced.
We learnt to Zoom, we didn't mind,
Not seeing Granny now was kind.
Shaming people next was taught,
Granny killers must be caught!
Beaches filled with families playing,
But home was where they should be staying!
Protesting was quite accepted,
If black lives were being protected.
But dare to speak of lockdown's pain,
Your voice was silenced, you were shamed.
Masks were next to keep the pace,
To keep us focused on the race.
To find the vaccine was the mission,
We had to share this global vision.
Then testing came to raise the fear,
And keep us locked up for the year.
Testing ramped up, cases grew,
False positives were not a few.
Healthy people were no more,
Silent carriers 'caused' this war.
Healthy people stayed inside,
Touch and love all were denied.
Until our lives became a shell,
Each day for many, living hell.
As days wore on and winter dwelt,
The toll of lockdown could be felt.
No more dancing or doorstep clapping,
Now tempers frayed with families snapping.
Desperate people, broken now,
Looking to the sacred cow –
The vaccine is their promised saviour,
Let's add it to the new behaviour.
They've said we'll have to keep the mask,
Still keep our distance, they have asked.
Add the vaccine, we need all three,
To make the Covid trinity.
So what lies ahead in this new year?
More of the same for those who fear.
But God has better plans ahead,
For those who trust in him instead.