Cheeky He, rather unwise, His eyes on the prize. No thought of disguise, Stared long, at her thighs. She, to his surprise, Having quickly apprised, Said,"Try these for size," And gave him black eyes.
Sounds like? Can I make it clear That onomatopoeia Is a sound word For word sounds. Like water down a plug, Glug. Glug. Glug, glug, glug. Noises when I speak, Groan, grunt, growl, eek, Mumble, murmur, squeal, squeak. And right before that prang, Crash, crunch, clatter, clang, Smash, screech, slap, bang. Pets I keep, cock-a-doodle-doo, Chirp, cheep, cluck, cuckoo, Honk, howl, tweet, twit twoo. But you! You make my heart go fwoosh, Whiz, whip, waft, whoosh, Fsst, flutter, swish, swoosh. So, let's hear it, my dear, A great dollop of cheer For onomatopoeia!
The Speculator Shares in stock She did obtain And now she's on The gravy train!
La vie est belle There's nothing much to do up here, I can't get the hang of this harp. Saint Peter said to learn by ear, So is this E flat or F sharp? La vie est belle, they said, It sure beats being dead. I'm looking down on all my friends, And the small stuff causing worry. It's not too late to make amends, Life's way too short to hurry. La vie est belle, they said, It sure beats being dead. And who let all these people in, My long lost friends and relatives? It's nice to see loved ones again, But some of these are negatives! La vie est belle, they said, It sure beats being dead. Enjoy your life and make the most, it ain't all work, it should be fun. You're far too long a flipping ghost, And once it's done my friend, it's done. La vie est belle, they said, It sure beats being dead.
I.T.Genius My mobile is broke, I got in a flap, But spoke to some bloke, All I need is a nap.
Mother Warton and Dauphy Dauphy, don't be so dozy, Nothing beats a good nosy. Stand here, pretend you are chewing And find out what people are doing. Intelligence, key to it all, Info, no matter how small. Whatever news happens are way Will help us to gossip all day.
Mixed Messages Give me your hand, Close your eyes. What I'm gonna demand Won't be a surprise. A lifetime together, Through thick and through thin, Whatever the weather And no violins. We're good for each other, So you say, of course. You're too like your mother, I want a divorce!
Progress In many ways, In long gone days, Computers not invented, We knew what should, We did what could And mostly stayed contented.
Crazy, crazy life The world's going mad, To be honest, it's sad, Plain common sense is departing, When a girl from the States Hooks up with her mates And' earns' thousands of dollars for farting!
Flying Fish There's a new craze in town, To play when you're down. WetBet is the race, And I got third plaice.
Rejection A fun loving nurse, Who loved writing verse, One week wrote a hundred and forty. To a publisher went, But back it was sent, Marked, some of this stuff is too naughty.
Boy's toys There was a little boy And he had a favourite toy, Playing with it every day. He brummed it on the floor Excitedly before His momma took the tortoise away.
The Apparition If this apparition appears in the sky, You will know that the end of the world is nigh. With gossamer wings, metal mouth, nose and hips, This harbinger's name, well it's Anna Copperlips.
The Queen's Dreams Are the dreams of the queen Very often obscene? Does she knight in the nude, Or is that, way too rude? Has she jumped from a cliff Whilst smoking a spliff? Does her majesty shout But nothing come out? Is she chased by a bear, But has nothing to wear, Or stuck in a lift With a peasant who whiffs? Does she fly in the sky, Then get chased by a spy? I'm prepared to opine That her dreams mimic mine.
Tattoos The way that this tattoo fad's going, Pretty soon, there'll be no way of knowing If we're black or we're white With tattoos inked so tight That there isn't an inch of skin showing.
Vive la difference! The slowest thing upon the road, Will reach its destination, And wealthy king, to common toad, We all need procreation. Our differences make us unique And should be celebrated. It's prejudice that keeps us weak, So why's it tolerated?
The Big Clean Out with the scrunchy, crunchy crisppacketry, Half finished cartons, of takeaway racketry, Car parking tickets, which spill from the pockets. What's this under here? Oh, look it's a sock, it's The one from last week, when carried away, You just couldn't wait for a roll in the hay. The stinky old ashtrays, they're getting emptied, Into the bin bag. You know I am tempted, To make it smoke free, and to ban any food. This once a year clean up, puts me in a mood. Wet wipes and dog wipes and arse wipe in rolls, Sticky suck sweeties, and cloths full of holes. Out of date maps, with half the roads missing, And look, I've discovered the cause of that hissing, A half finished bottle, now flat as a fart. Gone mouldy from Aldi, an unwanted tart. Now, move with the hoover, suck up all the crap, And when this car's spotless, I'm having a nap.
A free trip The inaugural use Of my bus pass today, Just needed to choose, Had nothing to pay. Bury market return, With bus wheels a thudding, Only two hours to burn For a piece of black pudding.
Folly Standing atop of a hill, Moody, magnificent, still. Outsize penis, erect, with a view, Boast, I can piss further than you. These phallic symbols immense, Speak of more money than sense.
Packed Lunch A secretary, peripatetic, Brought lunch in a snack box, hermetic. When she cracked an egg's shell, The sulphurous smell Worked swifter than any emetic.
Electioneering Every single Candidate Has promised To clean the streets, Eradicate dog shit, Employ more police and Spend my money wisely. The first one To stop bullshitting, Tell the truth And not treat me Like a child, Will get my vote.
A Nappy Event The woman was pregnant, she reckoned, When the ultrasound spotted a second, A third, fourth and fifth, Then even a sixth, "Congrats," said the nurse, "You are fecund!"
Full bodied red The stunning redhead, A New Yorker, Her spiraling threads Were a corker. The full bodied red Proved a talker. No driving, instead He'd to walk her.
The Princess and the Pea (The real story) Princess, breakfast time, "I'm not amused", says she. A dozen mattresses to climb, Whilst bursting for a pee.
Drug of choice Coffee or tea, That first caffeine hit, The absolute key To not feeling shit.
The dog walker She upturned a new leaf, And found an old shoe. A bit of relief, -She was searching for poo.
Her own little world Your fiction is flash, madam, That clever twist, you had 'em, And readers, I am gambling, Enjoy your erudite rambling. Most everybody knows You are articulate in prose, Your poetry is stunning, Those metaphors, quite cunning. Your novels are, well, novel And I don't mean to grovel, Because when you've finished writing, That barbecue needs lighting.
The Joy of Socks Socks can be cosy, Can even keep you warm. Socks can be soggy, If caught in a storm. People who boast socks, Ten for a penny, Women who have socks, Varied and many. Socks could be costly, Socks could be free, If you have odd socks, Someone's sure to see! Have socks at Christmas, Get socks for a treat, Socks for your birthday, Or socks you can eat. Socks could be shortish, May last all day long. Socks may be stylish, Chance to wear that thong. Socks can be smelly, Nature's sense of fun, Better wear a coat, To stop a little bun. Socks to have meaning, Really needs a pair. Socks all alone is A rather sad affair.
Sex workers (parody of Common Cormorant by Christopher Isherwood) (Contains adult themes) The common prostitute, or slag Earns money for her goodnight shag. The reason's clear, she needs the cash, To feed her habit, buy the hash. But what these unobservant men, Have never noticed, is that when They use the services she trades, There's more than one, her work degrades.
Mirror, mirror... What tangled tales You never tell. Your angled rays Reflect, compel. A thousand views You hold in one. Like quicksand news, You're never done. You can not lie To age or youth. Your cocotte eye Reflects the truth. If you could talk, Your secrets spread, How I would baulk At what you said.
A frustrating game What a round of golf today, Like Ballesteros in his day. Next time out, a different story, Harry Hookit in his glory.
Recorded Message If the problem you've got Is the internet, Go to www.dot, "I can't, you silly get!"
Flat Scream I choose to watch news For its in depth reviews, Or i flick it to cricket, And see every wicket. I might, in the night Stay up late, watch the fight. At dawning, still yawning, A soap in the morning. Get my fix of the flicks Which knock me for six. Mademoiselle, you can tell, Telly's my lockdown Hell.
The Car Boot Sale A man finds an old Union Jack, Tries to sell it as junk, bric-a-brac, But at car boot is seen By a not amused Queen, And with handbag, is given a whack.
Taxes I paid tax on my wage, Now it's tax on my pension. As I get to old age, I feel I should mention, That I also pay tax On all that I buy. The taxman extracts, And will till I die.
Inspired by Ingrid Twixt metaphor, and simile, I got mixed up. Why silly me! All similes are metaphors, I should have known that fact before. All metaphors aren't similes, If you're not sure, here is a key. A metaphor, I am a tree, Daft as a brush, a simile. Useless as a tongue tied poet, Analogy, and don't I know it.
God loves a trier Oooh Tobias, Look at your Uncle Jake, He's in the kitchen, Learning how to bake. First he turns the stove on To cook what he has made. Now he's set the place on fire, Best ring the fire brigade.
The Temptress Before he could have his dessert, She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, And turned the lights low, Till the landlord said,"No, This is my pub, you shameless young flirt."
The passionate pensioner You are my Aphrodite, May find me rather flighty. I pray to God Almighty You'll wear your sexy nightie.
Incompetence "You know your shit sir." Her teacher concurred. "I mean, you're shit"-she, "As in simile!"
A parody of Jaberwocky by Lewis Carroll Twas payday, and the slimy toads, Drink fire and gamble in the snug: All flimsy were their heavy loads, And mum released the drug. Beware the Crowing Cock my son! The beak that pecks, the feet that scratch! Beware the Spotsport bird, it's won A famous cricket match. He took his sabre light in hand: Three days his little toe was caught- So rested he in The Old Oak Tree, And drank a pint in thought. And as in mighty mood he sat, The Crowing Cock, with wattle raised, Burst in the pub with cricket bat, W.G.Grace be praised. Three, four! Three four! And at the door The sabre light went in and out. And from the floor, a mighty roar, "Crowing Cock-It's your shout!" "And hast thou tamed the Crowing Cock? Give me a hug, my beastie boy! Oh fanlous say, De Doo, De Day! My bosom weeps for joy." Twas payday and the slimy toads Drink fire and gamble in the snug: All flimsy were their heavy loads, And mum released the drug.
Goldilocks, the true story. Despite being quiet as a mouse, Goldilocks was caught in the house Of three bears, who took a dim view, And phoned for a policeman, or two. The Sergeant said,"Burglary miss, I think you'll get porridge for this."
The Faithful Servant The King was squatting on his throne, Isolated, all alone. Came a tap upon the door, The voice of royal servitor. "I'll wipe your bum sire, when your done." "No, I can manage, thanks my son." Fearful knighthood might be missed, Squeaks the servant, "I insist." With flourish, fuss and royal caper, Privy Seal commits to paper.
Creation God made the Earth, I do believe, And just for mirth, He added Eve.
To err is human As a young man, I committed an act, Trivial in nature, but monstrous in fact. To cover it up, I told me a lie, Which bothered me since, and will till I die. A man of the church, would pray to his God, And cancel that sin. If only I could. So as I've grown old, I've started to trawl, Through wrongs in my life, and that was not all. The errors I've made, are varied and many, A clock won't rewind, or cancel out any. Can't live a life, on what-ifs and maybe, An innocent man, there is only the baby. We're human, we err, it's sad, but it's true, Learn from mistakes, the best we can do. Live for the future, as life is so vast, Don't look behind you, the past, it has passed.
The considerate monarch Clever, canny King Buys Queen a mannequin, So that meeting And greeting Missus stops panicking.
A Poetic Wrinkle I like poems to rhyme, With a touch of symbolism I have learnt over time To avoid words like journalism.
Accent, what accent? Did you say stirring or staring, Whirring or wearing, Farting or fighting, Karting or Kiting? Are you larking, or liking, Harking, or hiking, Was it bangle or bungle, Jangle or Jungle? Were you walking or working, Jerking, or joking? Your accent is funny, Or should that be fanny?
Broadband Blues Never in a million years Did i imagine all the tears I's shed, before I die. if you knew me, you'd wonder why. My life's been great, I've had some fun, A bit of rain, more often sun. The reason I break down and cry, I chose B.T, instead of Sky.
Jeux vidéo The teenager played on her video game, Call of Grand Theft, or some silly such name. Thumb speed impressive, her digital powers Were honed at the screen over hours and hours. Playing on line, she had posted a score, Which rivals acknowledged, they couldn't ignore. You would not divert this young girl from her quest, Her burning ambition, to be best of the best. Hours turned to days, and she'd give meals a miss, Surviving on but an occasional kiss From mother, who worried and fretted her daughter Was wasting her life, when really she oughta Be studying hard for her exams at school, Instead of what dad called, a video fool. Till one day discovered, collapsed on the bed, She'd been zapped by her rivals, who left her for dead.
Referee! Referee, why can't you see How much united mean to me. It was a goal, and not offside, So, let it stand. Restore my pride. Our striker's shot, hit like a rocket, You must be in City's pocket. I'm annoyed, and with good reason, You have ruined our whole season.
Conflicts of interest Yet another politician Seems to be upon the fiddle. Let me state with much precision, I own shares in squit and diddle.
The School Run School run, car share, Flat shoe footwear. Marley jamming, Car doors slamming. Early risers, Supervisors. Titter, tatter. Parents chatter. School bell ringing, children singing. Little darlings Flock like starlings. Note from teacher, School rules breacher. Bag, wet knickers, Someone snickers. Lend a kind ear, Never mind dear. Choreographic Queueing traffic. Got through somehow, Nearly home now. Tired kids yawning, Back in morning.
Old dog, new tricks I must admit that in the past I've stained a thing, or two. Tomorrow though, because you ask, I'll stain that bench for you.
The Poet Her boyfriend had split, Which hurt her a bit, So she had a good look In her little red book. But try as she might, And she did try, all night She could not find a rhyme For the two-timing swine.
Cannibal Hannibal, the cannibal, Was munching on his lunch. He chewed the stew anew when told, His wife gave it the crunch.
Mother and Daughter Choose your path carefully my beloved daughter. The well trodden one, that of your ancestors, leads to children, a partner, domesticity, even possible happiness. The other, not yet carved, requires courage and commitment. You may get lost, but you could fulfill your dreams. Choose wisely darling, for there is no return. And, if I want both mummy? Then my dear child, you are truly my daughter.
Rewarding I don't give a toss for an Oscar. A Bafta is not what I'm after. A knighthood means nothing to me. I can manage with no MBE. All I need is a nice quiet life and a cuddle from you, or my wife.
Networking In order to get work She rang round her network Who only had pet work, Considered too wet work. What use those contacts Who gave her the wrong facts, As much use as tin tacks in a tubful of floor wax.
Life is... Life is a puzzle. A cryptic crossword that makes no sense. A jigsaw with missing pieces. A word game in a foreign language. A sudoku that doesn't add up. A Rubik Cube with seven sides. A word-search for meaning.
Implants Try implants, a brand-new you. Temptation talked, I paid for two. Although the dentist did her best, I'm still unhappy with my chest.
The Betrayal You, are my diamond, my jewel, So how can you treat me so cruel? You're my very best friend, you're my wife And I've loved you for most of my life. You're my treasure, the girl I adore, There is no one in life I love more, But it hurts, don't you know, can't you see, When you ask me to make my own tea.
The Invitation Sit down here And rest a while. Buy me beer, And make me smile.
Divorce Settlement She got the house, the car, the frills, Jewels, clocks, the Louis d'or. He got to keep his precious drills, For all is fair in love and law.
Light Verse Considered silly, not serious, Impish, but never imperious. My verse is light, not stodgy, heavy, Less red wine and more beer bevvy. No clever rhymes to take your breath, My verse won't scare you half to death. When I paint pictures, it's by halves, I'm only here to make you laugh. So, if you chuckle at my poem, Tha'll do for me and I've hit home.
Voting Time It must be voting time, They are knocking at my door, Feigning proper interest, Which they've never shown before. A vote for them, they claim, Ensures that all is well, Whilst the opposition party Will send us all to Hell. They're the only party Can stamp out racial crime. Excuse me, but that's something You should do, all the time. Can't trust a word they say, Not even half of it. They promise us the world, And feed us all bullshit.
Fashion Victims Designer jeans, what a farce. All those holes, you look an idiot. Pumped up lips, look at that. Sorry love, you look a twerp. Baseball cap worn back to front. Honestly, you look a clown. Height of fashion, latest look. Do I really, give a fig.
The Performance The actress likes to do her flirtin' Hidden by the theatre curtain. Soon apparent, This transparent, Quite a sideshow, that's for certain.
Sausages You are a silly old sausage, she teased. Well, let's be more specific, he wheezed. Am I Andouille, tasty but smelly, Or a small Chipolata, a body like jelly. A spicy Chorizo, made up of hot stuff, Or a big handsome Bratwurst, who can't get enough. I was thinking of Breakfast, because of the taste, Lacking in substance, but too good to waste.
A girl's best friend Wear those diamonds, Show them off. Don't be shy now, Act the toff. Bigger's better Bait for mating. Chance to sparkle, Carbon dating.
Broken Promises Her wordplay Reduced to this, Broken Promises, More Piss.
Smart, casual She put the kettle on, She should have worn a dress. The look was, well, all wrong, A steaming, boiling mess.
A tribute to Tina Cottonfield baby, Abandoned by mom. Deserted by father, Too tough to succumb. You rock the house baby, You rock the house. Blessed with a voice Of an angel that rocks. Your fist happy husband Was calling the shots. You rock the house baby, You rock the house. He left you with nuthin' Apart from your name Which you shrewdly perceived, Was your gateway to fame. You rock the house baby, You rock the house. Your sexual presence, Left fans screaming, more. High octane dance moves, And legs to die for. You rock the house baby, You rock the house. Not private, your dancing, From public, no rest. You deserve happiness. You are simply the best. You rock the house baby, You rock the house.
Rugby League The Rhinos and Tigers were playing a game Of rugby, in Yorkshire, from where they both came. The big cats were giving the hard hides a drubbing, But when they had finished, they all went out clubbing.
The chauvinist A woman considers it dutiful, To do what she can to look beautiful. Her man doesn't care As long as she's there Keeping his glass absolutely full.
You look very smart There was Joseph, George and Jeff, They were in the RAF. Alfred, Al and Arnie, Soldiers in the army. Douglas, Dan and Davie, Sailors in the navy. Billy, Bert and Buzz, All of them were fuzz. Ernie, Evan, Eddie, Trained up paramedics. Darrell, Douglas, Daz All worked for Yorkshire Gas. Julian, John and Joe, The counter at Tesco. Ian, Ivan, Ivor, Experienced train drivers. Their uniforms attracted, Seriously impacted. She couldn't pass one by Without the need to try.
The works trip There's a little known fact'ry in Yorksher That's as rare as an 'oss what lays eggs, Making shoes just for one footed people Them as lacks quite a full set o' legs. One half of 'fact'ry makes left shoes, Whilst t'other specialises in 'right, And 'cos 'shoes were selling like 'ot cakes, Operations went reet through the night. The two halves of 'fact'ry don't mix much, Except when it's time for a brew, Or at lunchtime, a quick game of footy, Would spring up, on the spec, impromptu. Charlie Clegg went to work in this fact'ry, After flunking 'is exams at school, And because of 'is Catholic leanings He were put in the left footed pool. Once a year they would 'ave a works outing, Organised by the new boy or girl, So, wi' Cleggy being 'newest of 'rookies, He were asked if he'd give it a whirl. Usually, they repaired to an alehouse Where they all got as pissed as a fart, But Cleggy were more into culture, Like statues and paintings and art. So he purchased some entrancing tickets To 'world famous Pontefract Gallery, What 'ad loan of a painting from Barnsley, Of a big local lass, Moaning Valerie. They made it to 'gallery, all sober, And admired the celebrity painting. Some of 'em moved close to tears, And some as was almost a-fainting. On 'way homeward they sloped off to 'pub, One nicknamed,'The man with two bricks'. A chance for the boys and the girls From both sides of fact'ry to mix. Charlie boy copped off wi' a lass, Called Rita, who worked on the right, There is no need to go into details, All I'll say is, he 'ad a good night. The trip were the best, so successful, Yorksher folk 'aving cultural veins And Cleggy were con-grat-yoo-lated, All agreed, he should do it again. Both halves 'aving got along famous Just showed them what people can do, When we tolerate what makes us different, And we each try the other one's shoe.
The hold up "This is a stick up, hand over the money!" "I will if you want, but I aren't being funny, Even masked up, I can tell it's you sonny. Go home. Make the tea, and I'll see you soon, honey."
Vanity Fare Cosmetically tightened, her face has been tucked As taut as a drum, where before it was rucked. Her breasts are as pert as a twenty year old, Where the implants were planted, no sign of a fold. The eyebrows tattooed into near perfect arches, Like Ronald McDonald's, and stiffer than starch is. Her fat all squeezed out by lipo, and suction, And lips pumped rock hard, to the brink of destruction. Feet nibbled, quite clean, by some fish in a pond. A brow full of Botox, hair platinum blonde. Bikini line waxing, to make your eyes water. Spends all on herself, trying to look like her daughter. Absolutely no end to the things she's improved, From the snow whitened teeth, to the tattoos removed, But try to make friends, and she'll lead you a waltz, She'll have nothing to do, with you dear, if you're false.
The Threshold The pain threshold for men, Is lower than a snake. A bit of cold and then, Why, such a fuss they make. Where women prove their worth, In tightening of the screws, Is not for giving birth, It's purchasing new shoes.
Big Mac I ate a kid's meal In McDonald's, across. It was not a big deal, But her mum got real cross.
The Cinema What is it with cinema munchers? Too greedy to wait for lunch as They chomp their way through a selection, Of popcorn and other confection. Popcorn is consumed by the bucket, As noisily crunching, they tuck it Away quickly, as though they are starving, Never thinking of sharing, or halving. Washed down with a tubful of drink, Sufficient a cruiser, to sink. Can they really not go for an hour, With only the plot to devour?
The inventor's husband Listen, my dear, It's a stupid idea. If you need a new phone, Then you buy one, alone. Plus a camera, perhaps, for taking some snaps. But, combining the two, Well, it really won't do. The market's all wrong, It will never catch on. So, he had the last word, And her plans went unheard.
Heart on sleeve She remains an open book, Wears her heart upon her sleeve. A funny sort of look. A gruesome kind of weave.
My Love My love is like A red, red rose Sharp as a spike, And needs no clothes.
Old Father Time The slow march of time, An idea I pooh pooh. Now that I've passed my prime It zooms by at mach two.
The Park Bench I could tell you some tales About bums on this bench. There's that woman from Wales, A fine, sturdy wench. The elderly couple Who stop for a brew. She's not so supple, And he's eighty two. The kids who pop by To play hide and seek, Or in winter, I Spy, Is it bird? Is it beak? But of all those I ease, My favourite pair, Is the courting strip-tease With their legs in the air.
The Bookworm I scored three goals in sport, today. Hat trick hero? Hmm. No way! Playing what I think is flanker, Earned the nickname own goal wanker.
Banksy He painted a mural Of idyllic rural But, typical Banksy Duplicates pranks, he Has done it in plural.
Best of friends Me, and a baritone gnome Live in our home, all alone. With no water, and no telephone We must shower using eau de cologne. And once all the perfume has gone, He will burst forth and sing me a song, He was taught by an ugly duck swan Wearing laddered red tights and a thong.
The Mechanic The plane at the end of the runway Ground to a halt, engine stalled. It's captain, to fix it, knew one way And for a mechanic she called. The lady came out with her hammer, Soon had it fixed, with no sweat. A motorised sort of a stammer, Technically called Stutterer Jet.
The Canine Poet I tried to draft a careful poem Of length, with strength, a testing tome. The final draft though, monochrome It should have stayed in house, at home. So, I turned to trite, a ditty Should have learned, as far from pretty. Try to force iambic meter Like compulsive over-eater. Talent turns to trad. a sonnet, Boy, that's just as bad, it's chronic. This queer compulsion to get rhyme To scan, oh man, it's such a crime. I'll try some prose, see how that goes, A budding Rowling, no one knows. That's it, my friend, I'll write a book With twisted end to get you hooked. Pen a song, with awesome lyrics Dance floor flooded atmospherics. Writing now, on upward spiral, Fame and fortune, even viral. Name in lights, and big star billing. Upbeat dog treats, snoozing, chilling. Win awards, a prize, a trophy, Accolades and "Well done Dauphy."
Predictive Text I wrong this poet on me phone With the aim of predictable sex It worms in ounce by itself Knots who to tyre next.
Hobbo: Enjoy your snooze Dauphy?
Dauphy: What snooze? I’ve been working. I was watching Prime Minister’s Questions!
Hobbo: If you say so.
Dauphy: I was. I’ve written a poem.
Hobbo: Fire away mate!
Question Time Question time, With P.M. Boris, Get more sense From great aunt Doris. Opposition though, Keir Starmer, Charisma of A Yorkshire farmer.
Just Eat In his wishes, Vinny's missus Lets him play out, catching fishes. Not for him the cluck it, pluck it, Finger lickin' bargain bucket. While he's on the River Ouse His missus rings Deliveroo's. Checks out Chinese for her daughter Orders more than what she oughtta. Fish and chips, tortilla teasers, Salad dips and spicy pizzas. Vinny's mini's home for supper Annie's plans he tries to scupper. Not for him the angler's boasting All he wants is cheesy toasties. Wherein she turns, and out she swishes And Vin, he learns, to do the dishes.
The Victory Oh, how I long for the buzz of a crowd, The hustle and bustle, the shouting out loud. United, one voice, a community choir Inciting, exciting as voices get higher. Fiercely protective, allegiances proud, As pent up frustrations are vented aloud. The shame of the game, when your team goes one down A penalty! Referee! That man is a clown. The waster finds space to, nip through, equalise Stick that up your kilt, and try that on for size. Two more, take what for, now your world's upside down Subdued is the mood, in the wrong half of town. So, it's off to the pub with the rest of the crew. The reds put to bed, and the team are all blue. Ecstatic, emphatic, a victory, a win Can't wait for the date when you do it again. Your hopes for the cup are rekindled anew, Forgetting last week, you were thankful you drew.
A poem about anything Anything can make you cry, Anything will make me sing, Anything may cause a sigh Anything, make you a king. Anything is big or small, Anything could be something Anything was nought at all, Anything, a mere nothing. Anything, we writers write I give my all for anything, Anything, both day and night, Anything is everything.
Garden Gnomes He tried to play bowls With his miniature trolls. Couldn't knock a thing over, Each ball a misnomer.
The Bookworm He devoured the novel From cover to cover. Unputdownable, He said to his lover. "Have you quite finished"? She asked him, in bed. "I think so my darling, Yes,take it as read".
The Black Belt Attacked by clowns Whilst out one night, She goes for juggler. Serves them right.
The Poet's Pen Six slim inches of ink, with proclivity To harness her sharp creativity. The potential for much positivity And the power to beat negativity. Oft times, a frustrating activity Requiring at times perspectivity. Striving to get objectivity, Shunning the crass subjectivity. She strives to achieve productivity, Artistic, with some sensitivity, But lacking required motivity Writes, but once a year, a nativity.
A nursery rhyme Up and down the seesaw Swaying on the swing In and out the roundabout And slide up to your chin.
The Gift I bought my wife some bath bombs An anniversary gift, Should have stuck to flowers, She turned her nose up, sniffed. She ran her bath that evening, Romantically she sang. As she shut the door behind her, I waited for the bang. Not a sausage, not a whimper, They'd sold me bath bomb duds. I'm going back tomorrow For a refund on my goods.
This is the baby This is the baby, all alone With a tenuous claim to the UK throne. This is the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous claim to the UK throne. Here's the famous star, in a fancy car Who married the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous claim to the UK throne. This is the chat, which caused a spat With the famous star, in a fancy car Who married the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous claim to the UK throne. These are the press, who made a mess Reporting the chat, which caused a spat With the famous star, in a fancy car Who married the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous link to the UK throne. This is the news, that airs its views About the press, who made a mess Reporting the chat, which caused a spat With the famous star, in a fancy car Who married the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous link to the UK throne. This is the palace, that's been called callous About the news, that airs its views About the press, who made a mess Reporting the chat, which caused a spat With the famous star, in a fancy car Who married the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous claim to the UK throne. This is the child, who is reconciled With the palace, that's been called callous About the news, that airs its views About the press, who made a mess Reporting the chat, which caused a spat With the famous star, in a fancy car Who married the royal, dubbed disloyal Who fathered the baby, all alone With a tenuous link to the UK throne.
Brief Encounter I met my wife in Venice Asked, "What you doing here?" "I've come to watch the tennis." "No. That's in Paris dear!"
Behind the mask There's the kernel of a knuckle Behind the ready chuckle The gaff that makes you laugh Which hides a paragraph Of wit, incisive musing Disguised as light, amusing. The poet tempting us to grin Achieves for both, result win-win. But the bard that has me pause And think about a cause The fist inside the glove The hawk behind the dove They sir have my blessing For 'tis more than window dressing. This philosopher in rhyme A thinker of our time.
The Baffled Blogger There is no rhyme or reason To visitors and likes Though writing for a season I can't predict the spikes. I work my socks off for a week On something that goes flop Throw out nonsense, tongue in cheek Which zooms straight to the top. I thought I knew my audience Though clearly, I do not It's either reader naughtiness Or I have lost my plot.
Afterlife I'm Blue until I die Was tattooed on his thigh So, when the bloke was dead They buried him in Red.
Copy That Impressionist's association An irritating imitation Of celebrity enunciation Sure to kill a conversation.
Critical The world is critically ill. Her lungs choked by noxious gases. Her arteries clogged with plastic waste. Her liver poisoned by toxic chemicals. Her skin scorched with bush-fires. Her brain overheated by global warming. Her respiratory system drowning in rising sea levels. And her heart broken by decades of neglect. We need to listen to the specialists and take our medicine however bitter, or expensive before critical becomes terminal.
Holes A toilet roll Without a hole, Cylindrical A useless whole. A big Black Hole Devoid of hole Is big and black But serves no role. The footballer Who scores a goal What use that goal Without it's hole? Spare a thought For moles and voles Where would they be If they'd no holes? Those bullets fired Through rifled hole Of killer's gun On grassy knoll. The men who dig Holes in the street Are proud of them The street elite. The angel with His gloriole He, Gabriel Requires a hole. The gas inside A fumarole It can not pass Without a hole. Our own bum-hole Speaking of gas Facilitates Trapped wind to pass. So now you know That holes aren't zeros Empty nothings Holes are heroes.
Power Games In the land of the telly addict she who holds the remote is Queen.
Monica's moniker This passion for fashion, in naming our babies Alas, will our lass be a Porsche, Mercedes? Africa, India, Bangalore, Singapore Nay, a full football team, if you feel she needs more. Star, starlight, sun, sunlight, my oh my, even windy Not you, to make do, with a Barbie or Cindy. There's no shame in a name, that stands out from the crowd Say it loud, say it proud, but for crying out loud Remember the name will be with them forever You may think it's clever, but don't call her Trevor.
Last Orders Please Near and far Ting went the bell To call last orders What's that smell? In the UK a bell is traditionally rung, and last orders called before a bar is shut.
New Beginnings You hold the key to my heart. Well, that's a start.
The Old Romantic Oh, I'm a big soft touch Now that I'm wiser, older I love my wife so much I very nearly told her.
Prime rhyme time Of the many pastimes, that I play at sometimes My favourite thing is the writing of rhymes. I've fiddled with riddles, since I was but little. A bad one's a sad one, a good 'un fair chimes. I grill and I thrill, as I bend to my will. It's fruity, it suits me, it's lemon and limes. Unbidden, the words spring to life in my head. I grab one, I stab one, before they have fled. They won't go away, they're determined to stay And dance, in a trance, in a sashay display. The rhyme in the stanza, for me is the answer. Each Haiku that I do, a bonny bonanza. A bee in my bonnet, as I sing my sonnet To use it, is music, to lose it is chronic. I'm impelled to, compelled to, I must do, I need ter Search, nay research, for some rhyme in my meter. I'll play all the day, for some words that just may E'en shift me, uplift me, a roll in the hay. It's easy, it's peasy, it's what poets do It sneaks in and peaks in, while I'm on the loo. Sometimes sensational, oft inspirational Frantic, its antics, my Little Boy Blue. I'm in it, to win it, I don't often bin it When my wit, is unfit though, I might have to thin it. If I get marooned, in the mid-afternoon By a girl in a whirl, or a dame in a swoon Have a nail in my pail, catch a thorn in my prune Anchor my Tanka, before it balloons. Then I mean, to be seen, to make it a rule To read to the readers, my audience who'll Say Hobbo's a laddo, he's nobody's fool He's sunny, he's funny, the drool in my pool. So for humans with lumens, with light in your pen And actors with factors poetical, then Stop fighting, get writing, through dictionary roam Desire to inspire us, and sire us a poem. Inspired by an original poem by Burges Johnson
Shadows Two dimensional stalkers Feeding on light The brighter, the darker Ghouls with no bite. Scary imposters Afraid of the dark Older than life is Yet leaving no mark.
If coal was blue If coal was blue Instead of black And ducks went moo Instead of quack. If seas were dry And deserts wet If pigs could fly In pirouettes. If moons were square Instead of round And Polar bears Grew in the ground. If saints were bad And cows were pink I'd think I'd had Too much to drink.
Prime Suspects Police had their suspect on CCTV Stolen, were millions in diamonds Images clear, very easy to see Lucy in disguise with Simon.
Counting Games For the pessimist One, two, nothing to do Three, four, can't take any more Five, six, I'm in a fix Seven, eight, ruled by fate Nine, ten, I don't know when Eleven, twelve, left on shelves Thirteen, fourteen, whole world's so mean Fifteen, sixteen, everything is obscene Seventeen, eighteen, I'm a has-been Nineteen, twenty, all is empty. For the optimist One, two, plenty to do Three, four, let's go explore Five, six, build those bricks Seven, eight, never too late Nine, ten, yes happy again Eleven, twelve, play with elves Thirteen, fourteen, everything is so green Fifteen, sixteen, I'm a dancing queen Seventeen, eighteen, so much unseen Nineteen, twenty, we've got plenty.
My Lucky Day
Barely had a shower,
Was coming down the stairs
An email in my inbox
A man who says his prayers
Overseas is dying
From some horrid disease
Needs to spend his fortune
And God had chosen me!
Bank details were required,
Well, that seemed fair enough
But, before I give them
I got some other stuff.
Huge, my lottery win
Amazing, reason I,
I’ve not paid nothing in!
Please confirm bank details
Of course, well would not you?
Then, by Jove, a phone call
The Inland Revenue.
Big tax over-payment
I only had to ring
Payment in a jiffy
Would end my suffering.
Never been so lucky
So many billet-doux
Here are my bank details
Why, help yourself, please do!
Moments The moment that you are desperately trying to live in has already passed.
Trading Places Belly button feeling glum Seeks more fulfilling role Agrees to do a swap with bum Becomes a buttonhole.
Hair today, gone tomorrow I grew a long beard Lasted barely a week The thing interfered With my snogging technique.
This is your life Life may provide the pen and the paper But you are the one who writes the story.
Fork 'n' knife Let's hear it for the humble fork Sharp as knife, and not all talk. Unstabbed by fork my egg would slither Down my leg, all hither thither.
Spare a thought Children, safely, in parks play Yet, in car parks, we make cars stay Still, like soldiers, in a row Tidy, but it's cruel though.
The Shopping Trolley Squeaky wheeled, the shopping cart Ferries goodies round the mart. In its ever changing hold Lie lost secrets, never told. Errant husbands in a hurry Farmer types who smell of slurry Secret Santas for the office Squabbling kids who fight for toffees. Fussy sorts, the feely-touchers Veggies who avoid the butchers Grimy toddlers, babes in nappies O.A.P's and cheeky chappies. Lover boys with cheapskate flowers Lonely folk who pass the hours Chatting with the clientele Shopping till that final bell. Thieves with no intent to pay Drunken louts who start affrays Married couples, taking huff Pin striped suits, and working scruffs. Diets won and diets lost Thrifty ones, who count the cost Of each item as they pick it Mentally arithmetic it. Coupon warriors, voucher wavers Flashy spendthrifts, super savers. You've seen the lot, know all our tricks So, can't you get that damn wheel fixed!
A Mars a day The boffins went to Mars In a Rover, by the way And there among the stars They could work and rest and play.
The way You said I do forty four years ago. Sixteen thousand cooked meals prepared by you for me with love. The silent majority were wonderful. A vocal minority beyond delicious. And your truly special platinum collection made my taste buds tango. You didn't find a way to my heart you built a culinary autobahn. Merci ma cherie!
Love you to bits.. You're the flirt in a skirt. The snag In our snog. You're a nail in my mail. The weed in my need. You're the pest in my vest. The fly in my eye. You're the wart in my court. The itch in my snitch. You're the clot That I've got. You're the nit in my knot... ...and I love you to bits.
Tempus fugit That breath you have taken you will never breathe again. The harsh words you have spoken can never be unsaid. That memory you are making, the teardrop in your eye and tomorrow claims the lot, every thing a fleeting lie. Be not afraid though, little one. Time flies like this for everyone.
The Yorksher C bomb. Tha' cun't use a comb Cos thee 'airs a bit sparse, And tha' cun't marry 'er Cos she's gorra' fat arse. You have no requirement for a comb Because you are almost bald, and you could not tie the knot with her Because she is rather a large lady!
A Palindrome Seven Eves, madam! I'm Adam! Seven Eves!
Love is... Putting the bins out when it's not your turn. * Apologising before you fart. * Pretending to listen when you haven't a clue what she is talking about. * Waiting until she leaves the room before picking your nose. * Letting her clean the toilet, even though you would love to do it. * Not forgetting her birthday more than once a year. * Buying her petrol station flowers for the thrill of hearing her say,"What are these for?" * Letting her watch the football, rather than a sloppy film. * Getting her a fish supper on your way home from the pub. * Sleeping fully clothed in the bath, so you don't have to wake her.
The Detective It's not in the bath Not in the sink Not in the glass That I use for a drink. Not in the flannel Or the waste paper basket It wouldn't be hard If I could but ask it. Not on the hairbrush The cabinet or Caught in the towel Lost on the floor. A fingertip search Of everywhere, no Where the hell did That nail clipping go?
A Yorksher Love Sonnet My love for you, my dear, primordial I need you as the great white needs the sea My little cookery book, my granny's recipe My pressure gauge, my medical annual. You're the tiger in my tank, my animal The sugar in my too sweet cup of tea My fleur de lys, my chickadee, my bon amie My swamp duck, just a tad too spherical. You're the girl who spends my pension every week Who looks quite nice, when age is factored in The cheeky twinkling in the corner of my eye Like highly polished furniture, antique More sturdy than that wall in East Berlin The girl who'll get my ferrets when I die.
The Pirate's Birthday Pete pirate held a party The day that he turned eighty He looked too hale and hearty Insisting, aye aye matey.
The ringmaster's will The circus boss got shot His brother was an heir He didn't get the lot But he got the lion's chair.
Love on trial A Parisian apartment exclusive She murders her lover abusive True to French fashion She pleads crime of passion Five knives in his back inconclusive.
The Power of the Pen A simple signature can Acknowledge new life or register the end of one. Declare our undying love or send a country to war. Purchase a property or buy us some time. Make us millionaires or turn us bankrupt. Seal a marriage or certify a divorce. Give the gift of life or end it all. Pass me that pen, please.
Foodbanks A charitable crutch For the poor and needy Or, an easy touch For the feckless, greedy. Mere subsistence A basic feed Or does their existence Create the need. Providing human fuel As a last resort The question is cruel But it does need thought.
The Present I've got thee a dress, boasted Pete So, what with the money he'd lent her Jill thought she were in for a treat But t'address were for Wakefield Job Centre.
True Wisdom A wise man knows everything. A wise woman lets him think so.
The Power of Thinking If the totality of our thoughts is hatred we will perish. If the product of our ponderings is love we shall triumph.
You and me, me and you You measure success by your power The money you earn by the hour Your place at the top of the chart The people who nod when you fart. Now, I, am content with my lot Whereas you (Sir!), quite clearly are not I always sleep soundly in bed But you chase the dreams in your head. For me, life's a joy and a pleasure My family and friends are my treasure You are constantly searching for more Never pausing to think, what life's for. I consider what use I can be To others, with you it's all me For you, a huge house is essential Though I think it inconsequential. Love that we share and we give Are the tenets by which we should live You think that fame is a must You forget that we all turn to dust. When you die, are there people who'll grieve Or, will they count the money you leave Have you spent your time wisely on earth It's the value that counts, not the worth.
Easy English for beginners I'll teach you how To pronounce bough. Not as is sport That's saved for nought. No, don't nod off It's not like trough. And please don't go It's easy though. I'm sure that you Will soon be through. With all this stuff Enough's enough.
Dauphy: Are you entering Chelsea Owen’s poetry challenge this month?
Hobbo: No, I don’t think so.
Dauphy: Why not.
Hobbo: I can’t get a handle on the subject.
Dauphy: What is it?
Hobbo: You have to write a rant. I haven’t got a rant in my body!
Hobbo: What do you mean, psht?
Dauphy: You’re a Yorkshireman aren’t you? Ranting is as natural as breathing.
Hobbo: Thanks Dauphy. I’m not sure I agree with that, but you’ve given me a great idea.
Dauphy: De rien!
A Yorksher Rant Tha' mun think that, am med o'brass Well, shove it up yer Khyber Pass Fifty bob fer chips wi' scraps I dunt pay that fer good flat caps! Tha' thieving sod, tha'll rob me blind 'all take me stick, 'ave 'alf a mind To stick it where the sun don't shine Tha' robbin' git, tha' greedy swine. I'm an O.A.P tha' knows I wotchit, where me money goes So, tha' can keep thee chips, instead 'all mek do wi' some drippin' bread. Translation You may think that I have lots of money Well, you can put that money in your bottom £2.50 for french fries with trimmings It costs me less for decent headgear. You are a thief who is prepared to scam me I am inclined to take my walking cane And put it in a painful place you robbing villain, you greedy scoundrel. You know I'm an old age pensioner And I have to be prudent with money So you keep your chips for yourself, whilst I Will have some bread spread liberally with pork fat.
C'est la vie Life is a cornucopia of contrast a cruel joke of juxtapositions. C'est la vie. The unimaginable wealth of royal racehorse owners and The life sapping poverty of the homeless gambling addict. C'est la vie. The limitless optimism of human ideals and the actual reality of everyday life. C'est la vie. The glorious beauty of planet earth and our ugly determination to destroy it. C'est la vie. The corrosive corruption of absolute power and the frustrating impotence of the powerless. C'est la vie. Our futile attempts at cheating death and the inexorable tramp of time. C'est la vie. The carefully crafted images of the poet's pen and the thoughtless hatred vomited on social media. C'est la vie! C'est la vie: That's life.
This diet isn't working I'm happy in the clothes I wear but in my wife's I'm in despair.
The Yorksher Alphabet A is food for 'osses. B a stripey insect that makes 'unny. C a big, wavy pond full of fish. D a river in Wales. E by gum, a fairly meaningless Yorkshire expression. F and Jeff, to swear. G an expression of delight. H the thing a woman will never disclose truthfully. I usually come in pairs. used for seeing. J a type of bird. K a lasses name L where I'll likely go after I die. M a polite way of interrupting a conversation. N a domestic bird, lays eggs for our breakfast. O an expression of surprise. P done a lot after too much to drink. Q an orderly line, peculiar to Brits. R a state of existence, as in you R. S a whispered affirmation. T 'ot beverage, served with biscuits. U thee V a rude salute. W definitely thee. X things that 'ens lay. Y a toddler's favourite question. Z noggin, skull, as in he's off 'is Z. With thanks to The Two Ronnies and Baldrick for a couple of these definitions!
A tribute to Wordsworth You wander lonely as a cloud Steer clear of all the Covid crowd The sight of all those daffodils Uplifts your heart, discard those pills.
What shall we call him? The fireman from Spain has a baby He and his wife disagree She wants to call him Jose No way will he call him, hose 'b'.
I saw Anna in town today.
She’s had an operation on her foot.
Lisa’s had another baby.
It’s filthy. Think I’ll give it a bath.
They’re going abroad this year.
Is the water hot?
That back door needs painting.
Where’s the shampoo?
There’s some paint in the shed.
Can you use it on dogs?
Do you fancy a holiday?
I’ll need a towel.
A little bed and breakfast?
A big one I reckon.
On second thoughts.
I can’t be arsed!
We’ll stay at home then.
It doesn’t smell that bad.
I’ll put the kettle on…
A Yorksher love poem Tha'll get me pension, when I die and 'tools inside me shed. You are the gravy in me pie the girl I chose to wed. Tha's like the salt, I put on 'chips The froth that warms me beer a lass that wobbles when she strips to who there's no compeer. And tha's the lass what 'ad me kids and set me 'eart a thuddin'. As solid as two dustbin lids the air in 'Yorksher puddin'. Tha's the mush in mushy peas The fluff in fluffy slippers What taught me 'bout the birds 'n'bees The girl that cooks me kippers. Tha's the match what lit me fire The stubble on me chin Who dances like a tumble drier The nine in feminine. So, me love, rough as you are 'tis death will force our partin' Tha's more use norra flashy car Despite tha' flippin' fartin'. Yorksher: Yorkshire tha'll: you will me: my tha's: you are compeer: compare 'eart: heart Yorkshire pudding: A savoury'pudding' eaten with roast dinners norra: than a
The art of balance Can you canoodle carefully, in a canoe? Can you? Cannily?
The Scottish Bard The pen is mightier than the sword and Rabbie was the king Twas his sword though, struck a chord and made the ladies sing. Robert (Rabbie) Burns, National Poet of Scotland had a reputation as a 'ladies man'.
The assignation Ran like crazy, to the station Late again, the aggravation Would she keep their assignation He was getting palpitations. Then, amongst the congregation Spied, and waved with admiration Hard to hide his adoration Can't control his respiration. She's excited, pure elation Pleased, there'd been no cancellation Take a stroll, first inclination Fresh air adding stimulation. Subdued is the conversation Lost in thought, in meditation Feeling under obligation He speaks first, makes observation. No need for commiseration This is not infatuation This is love, no reservation Too late now, for reputations. What use now, a confrontation She forgives his brief flirtation His, a stressful occupation She, his soulmate, his salvation. This is more than fascination Mutual, their declaration So, among the vegetation They play game, of generations. Love is sealed, an affirmation Wounds are healed, no complications He can not hide his jubilation She is his for all occasions. Grateful for her approbation He gives her a presentation Birds on high, a murmuration Fly, and sing their salutation. She forgives their separation Needs no other explanation Next time he goes on vacation She comes with him, his dalmatian.
Domestic Harmony Never argue with your wife Not while she holds a carving knife. The argument's not worth a toss Smile, say "Yes dear, you're the boss."
A story as old as time In a village, quaint, touristic Lived twin sisters, both artistic. One was dour, pessimistic Smaller girl was optimistic. Came two men, materialistic As foretold by Meg, the mystic. Older, brash and egotistic Younger shy, though not simplistic. Girls were sexy, sensualistic Stirred boys feelings, pugilistic. Both called truce, men realistic Let girls choose, so altruistic. Women flattered, fatalistic Double wedding, idealistic. Choose a vicar, humoristic Pick a service catechistic. Thus my friends, in rhyme linguistic Old, old story, humanistic.
Read them their rights RIGHTS for Ethnic minorities Single Parents Ordinary people Needy Sisters Indicted prisoners Black people Indigenous populations LGBT community Itinerant people Travellers YES ...hell, yes. Absolutely yes, but there is another side to this...
Long John Baldry Let the heartaches begin Long, his talents have flown He played for The Beatles And sang with The Stones. Christened John Willy We need not harp on No need of a wordsmith To make this Long John.
The football match My debut for the 'dads v lads' The shortest you could see Substituted me, the cads Straight after 'take the knee'.
Playing Games It's only three letters, guess it, you're good. Got it in one! The answer is bud! Almost correct! 'B' gets you a nod. So, if I was real close...do you mean bod? The 'D's' also right, you go wrong in the mid. This is too easy, you're thinking of bid. Ever so warm now. Driving you mad? Nope, I think I've got it. The word must be bad. 'B' something 'D', it's all in your head! Ah, now I've sussed it. You want me in bed!
Adios Amigo, Au Revoir Mon Ami! Yesterday, Trump was a president A tweeting, unbeaten sweetheart, in White House, no longer a resident Trump's now a windy old fart.
Oppressor to Ornament When Germany East was abolished The wall in Berlin got demolished With shovel and pick Large chunks of brick Were taken home proudly, and polished.
A biblical story The Sam Harrington in the bible He came from a family tribal So when 'Daily Flood Said that he was no good Sam sued them for thousands in libel.
The Splits Should I be going boldly or do I boldly go? Splitting my infinitive could be a fatal blow. It's difficult to truly write with realism when my native tongue is tied lashed down by dogmatism.
Jacques Cousteau His groin got caught on the wreck Jacques, one of life's survivors Was freed from off the wreck By using four skin divers.
Tykes Talking Gerrit canyer? Weir? Sin tin. Tint. Tis. Tin tin tin. Tis! Tint! Tis, sithee. Reet. Clart he'ud!
If, at first... This was his tenth driving test Don hit a bin wagon, head on Although docs at the scene did their best God got to say, "You've passed Don."
Beelzebub Spare a small thought for the devil if Satan. should land in a hole The guy might not be, on the level But think, how could he, sell his soul?
It was a wrench! The wrench it sticks when it's not clean so polish it until it gleams!
Let's twist again Surely surly Shirley's sorely sorry smelly Shelly's shameless Sunday sherries should've somehow simply soured!
Once upon a time There was a crook-ed man And he ran a crook-ed house And they all lived together In America's White House.
Selfless or shelf-less? Look at those fools, panic buying It's an absolute bloody disgrace Not like me, I'm not selfish Better double up though, just in case
Boredom Life in the lockdown is boring. Wouldn't it be good to go out. Dictionary pages I'm reading. Already I've learned next to nowt.
Ode to a bogey A wonderful thing is a bogey Ask any male child, if you've doubts He'll tell you, they're ever so tasty and much better for you than sprouts.
Out of place She was too antidisestablishmentarianistic for Llanfairpwillgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.
Be careful what you say 'That's cute', was a saying of his For everything, loud voice, not muted Until one fatal day he did this It wasn't his wife but his ex 'e cuted.
Little Miss Muffet (by Dauphy) Little Miss Muffet Sat on her buffet Eating her pie and peas Too hot for her knees They fell on the floor And little Miss Muffet Said,"Stuff it."
Read the label The label, she carefully read Grand Cru, on her bottle of red Lay down for a little, it said So she drank it, then snoozed on the bed.
Scotland the brave If I spoke Scottish That would be good More words would rhyme I'd be in a good mood
Superwoman Simple Simon said I'll teach you to fly Jumped from twelve storeys high And now he is dead.
Dauphy: I’ve written a poem for the end of the year.
Hobbo; That’s great. What’s it about?
Dauphy; It’s been a pretty awful year for most people, so I’ve written about the meaning of life.
Hobbo: Wow Dauphy! That’s a huge subject. Let’s hear it.
The meaning of life (by Dauphy) If the Hokey Cokey Is what it's all about Then throw me in the chokey And do not let me out. chokey: UK slang for prison.
Dauphy: What do you think?
Hobbo: I’m impressed Dauphy. Very deep. Really meaningful.
Visa, the master of cards American Expressly wished To PayPal cash for postal order Derek Debit, to his credit Preferred to pay by standing order.
Short lived joy Cruising for a nice young man he found one Yin meets Yang. Then his joy turned into panic on board the ship they named Titanic.
Trouble ahead It can not be done Said she But he Out for fun Blew away all her doubts And curried the sprouts.
Socks If socks are comfort food for feet do clocks like seconds when they eat?
You are joking! Whilst watching the footy Reclined, with a BLT butty Heard a joke that was smutty About a plumber and putty. BLT: Bacon, lettuce and tomato a popular sandwich in the UK
Blame It's my fault I wind him up. It's my fault He was drunk. It's my fault He loves me really. It's my fault He didn't mean to hurt me. It's my fault His tea should have been ready. It's my fault He doesn't like these clothes. It's my fault He is really sorry. It's my fault See, he's brought me flowers. It's my fault He won't do it again. He's promised me It's my fault.
A modern miracle Love is blind Affects the brain Though marriage Restores sight again.
Memories are made of this He sat in the bedroom Scratching his head Am I getting up Or going to bed?
The generous bigamist I plighted my troth This was bigamy Bought presents for both That was big o' me.
The generation gap New hearing aids fitted today My grandson is very impressed They work on Bluetooth technology Whatever that means, they're the best.
Dauphy: So, are you part of the hearing aid generation now then?
Hobbo: Well, personally, I see myself more as a Bluetooth kinda guy.
A good night's sleep It slowly dawns on you that you may have drunk a smidgen too much last night when you can't get comfortable in bed and your wife wakes you to ask why you are rolling around on the floor inside the Ali Baba laundry basket.
Arise Sir Loin His several chins wobbled But he put up no fight When the noble got nobbled By a Knight, in the night.
Growing old gracefully Two elderly men playing golf In the snow, in the midst of December "Did you see where my tee shot went mate?" "I did, but I can not remember."
The Lawn That sweet smell of a freshly mown lawn on a summer's day belies the distress call of a million blades of grass butchered in their youth by the murderous blade of the mower for our aesthetic pleasure.
Talking Brexit talks The papers said Not money talks I've been misled.
The Christmas Newsletter So, if by chance you meet And concern is in her voice Our living on the street Is environmental choice Chelsea Owen's challenge was to write an annoying Christmas newsletter
Prayer I don't believe in a God Where we all go to church and pray But say one for me and my squad Insurance does not go astray
The golfer he failed to make the golfing cut When the judges raised the bar Then mum fell in the water-butt So he lost both Ma and Par.
Dollop I do love words like dollop It has a lovely ring Plop, trollop, lollop, wallop They make my soul sing.
Pandemic pandemic tenterhooks vaccine imminent whole world crosses fingers.
The Daily Paradox Undercover reporter sheds light on conspirators conspiring against conspiracy theories.
Grandma Santa was their Christmas treat She'd taken them for years When Archie asked for granddad back She couldn't stop the tears.
Sisters One girl's hair is wavy Which fashion don't permit Hair straighteners, the answer They cost her quite a bit. The sister's though is ramrod straight But she wants wavy hair So she wraps it all in rollers tell me, where's the logic there?
The Church First appearance, One November Cried a bit But don't remember. Second time A lovely sight Never seen her Dressed in white. Last time there The incense curled Couldn't smell it Dead to the world.
Leaving My wife wants me to leave Pack my bags, wants shot Wished misery on me, so Dilemma, do I go or not?
Instant Food Curry in a hurry Soup in a cup Oven chips, instant mash Where will it all end up. In the UK chips are fat french fries
Please You say That you love me But you won't Do that It's not a lot to ask Not all the time Just now and then Would be nice To show that You really do Love me And it's not Just words A little sign of respect That would not Go amiss I'm not asking a lot Am I So please try it for once It won't hurt you The next time Perhaps I'd really appreciate it If You could See your way to Putting the seat down.
A tough life The next time You have the temerity to complain That your steak is tough Try to look at it From the cow's perspective.
Hurley Burley Kay Burley Meets Liz Hurley Nice dress Good press.
Shopping Our shopping trip took longer When he forgot the money If we hadn't lived ten miles away It would have been quite funny.
Free It's alright now Because you see, I'm Free and if you get that pun Then you're as old as me.
Hygiene His teeth scrubbed with a bog brush Which Dave claimed stopped decay Had turned his teeth bright orange And kept the girls away.
The Firm she needs well oiled machine she gets a well oiled drunk her firm collapses.
Shock One is smaller He hears girlfriend snigger A worrying thought when He thought one was bigger. Snigger; UK slang for titter, giggle
Batman Batman's caught the virus Lost his sense of taste Won't come and get his Dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner What a blooming waste.
Granny My gran Was so funny Always made me laugh She would say "Watch her She's a flibbertigibbet. Great word gran! Flibbertigibbet, a frivolous, flighty or excessively talkative person.
Infedelity She dissatisfies He diversifies She tries He falsifies She identifies He denies She spies He solidifies She pries He lies She clarifies He justifies She decries He mortifies She vilifies He pacifies She amplifies He sighs She goodbyes He cries Love dies.
Humpty Dumpty Humpty Dumpty Sat on the fence He had no opinions And no common sense. All of the papers And all of the news Couldn't get Humpty To tell us his views.
Hey Diddle Diddle Hey diddle diddle My dad's on the fiddle And mum's run away with a neighbour I'm in the pink But I'm heading for clink Where my girlfriend, sixteen, is in labour.
Boy The chuckle muscle deep in his belly Is in for a whole load of welly He gives mum a squeeze and a cuddle Wriggles free and jumps straight in a puddle.
The Story Sally's story had won the first prize Though she wasn't particularly clever Mum swelled with some pride and surprise When she heard teacher say, "Best end ever."
Babies When I questioned my mummy How I got in her tummy She said daddy had planted a seed Well that was a hard 'un Cos we have no garden And daddy does nothing but read.
The Tongue My tongue has been... tormenting, tasting, teasing, tickling, tackling tactless, teaching, tawdry, tatty, tubby, tattling twisted, tangled, tigerish, talkative, testy tingling, terse, telling, temperamental, tetchy technicolour, talking, turbo, tragic, tedious tender, taking, talented, taxing, tenacious. trademark, tricky, touching, tongue-tied, tolerant topical, toadying, tart, tardy, turbulent. Maybe I should give it a rest for now!
A Four Letter Word This isn't a word I use much in life If I do, I'm in trouble Most of all with my wife. According to her It's belittling and cheap I admit, among men We use it a heap. It's a four letter word That starts with a 'C' Women don't like it Demeans them you see. The debate rages on It is used all the time But if I dare to say it My life's not worth a dime. So, you know how it starts But those other three I won't spell it out But it ends with a 'T.' And women don't like it But men clearly do For this four letter word I have one final clue. It is spoken the most When out for a shop Husbands open their mouths And partners shout,"Stop." Have you worked it out now I know you're not lost This troublesome word Well, it's quite simply...cost.
Joe Joe used to love tractors but not any more he's an ex tractor fan.
The Unknown Warrior A million fell You were chosen A shortlist of four From the Aisne, the Somme, Arras, Ypres Draped in the flag Of the country you died for You were chosen One cold November morning In a small chapel in St.Pol Brigadier General Wyatt Chose you A kings sword A coffin of solid oak Were chosen Buried at the heart Of an English abbey In French soil Amongst poets and kings You are And will be honoured for centuries to come We salute the sacrifice of you and all the comrades you represent Thank you For your choice For your sacrifice.
Fragile Trust is a fragile flower which once broken must be carefully repaired and can never be fully restored.
Trust Day that we met Best day of my life. Day you broke my trust Cried myself to sleep. Day you came back I couldn't be arsed.
Lunch The flames were prolific The heat was terrific The words from the kitchen profane My nice chicken roast Is burned black as toast Sunday lunch has been ruined again.
Sober A teacher, not known for sobriety Gave her students a taste of variety Her swearing backfired When, improperly attired She was sacked for a lack of propriety.
The Sun I was dazzled by the sun Gazed toward her with defiance For just a shade too long And was blinded by the science.
Politics aloof, arrogant posturing, proposing, persuading president, challenger, ballot-box, voters dithering, deliberating, deciding unheeded, uncounted electorate.
Grooming I snipped a hair from out my ear A full three inches long From where on earth did that appear I'm getting like King Kong.
Games It used to be Cops and robbers Cowboys and Indians Japs and Commandos. Now it's all Minecraft The Legend of Zelda And Grand Theft Autos.
Kippers What makes kippers giddy Why are hot dogs hot And why do fish have fingers I've wondered that a lot. Poached eggs, are they stolen Flapjack, does it panic And is this tripe made up of trash Or something more organic?
Snooker Colour telly snooker Exciting when brand new Watching this in black and white? The pink's behind the blue.
Books A book fell on my head Yes, landed on myself I know that I'm well read But I have to blame my shelf.
Curry The bottom fell out of my world When you left me gutted and rotten So, I went on my own for a curry Then the world fell out of my bottom.
Chillin' Whilst watching I.P.L I had an I.P.A The cricket rather swell The beer was way okay. I.P.L Indian Premier League cricket I.P.A India Pale Ale beer
Opinions Labour faces civil war Corbyn's been suspended One week he's their leader The next, he's been upended. Starmer tries to sort it out This problem with the Jews Jeremy sees it differently In public, airs his views. The fact that he goes public Leaves Starmer with no choice With trouble brewing in their ranks Who'll have the strongest voice. Former Labour party leader Jeremy Corbyn was suspended from the party after a disagreement with new leader Kier Starmer about the way that Labour was dealing with anti-semetism in the party.
Polls America goes to the polls Economy versus the virus Despite all the internet trolls A peaceful result is desirous.
Furlough Tomorrow ends furlough Will I get my job back Or like thousands of others Be given the sack?
Coffee Shall I go to Big Bucks I've money in my jacket But no, their coffee sucks I'll go to Costa Packet
Discount Pam bought a hanging basket Discounted in a minute When she told the garden centre That there was no fuchsia in it.
Terror It's happened again in France This time, a cathedral in Nice What exactly is wrong with some people Why can't we all live in peace?
Vacation They've found water on the moon Might be enough to drink This news could not have come too soon For holidays, I think. No need for social distancing No more Covid 19 I feel so happy, I could sing Somewhere I haven't been. I'll take a bucket and a spade My pint glass for the pub A brolly too for in the shade I hope they serve good grub. I'm all packed up and set to go Need Boris's decree Because the little so and so Has put me in tier three.
A tale of two princes Prince Charles Is isolating At Balmoral With Covid 19. Prince Andrew Is isolating At Windsor With Jennifer, 14. (origin unknown)
Vandalism Grave vandalised Surprise, surprise Of Cilla OBE Though not a saint Why spray with paint It seems bizarre to me. Doddy too What Diddy do He brought us happiness Both rest in peace It's just caprice Some folk are bad, I guess.
Misunderstanding In Covid hit Wales They have limited sales To items considered essential A wife was refused An item that's used By ladies in ways confidential Until a chappy spoke out And cleared up the doubt In a voice that was quite presidential. A woman in Wales was refused sanitary products in her local Tesco's. The welsh government later claimed that this was a misinterpretation of their new Covid rules.
Ambition I read in the papers that Burnley Are getting a striker, that's cool They only paid twenty five million He probably still goes to school.
First encounter I spied her in the cafe Dipping brioche, chocolate chipped She said she was Parisian "Why, that's capital," I quipped.
The election The language is incomprehensible His rhetoric largely dispensable Some of his views indefensible Why can't this man say something sensible?
Old Friends There are holes in my sock And a hole in my shoe They have been round the block And my toes all peek through. I could buy some more But I've got quite attached They were worn to the funeral When my wife was dispatched. Only joking darling...
Funny Habits In Burnley they pour gravy On their cheese and onion pie I only have one question Why, oh why, oh why?
Clocks My clocks went back this morning It's daylight saving time It took two hours to alter them A blooming pantomime. A slight exaggeration, but you get the drift...
Children Children talk of Monsters and Santa Adults engage in Cruel banter. Kids believe In the Easter bunny Grown ups worship The power of money. Children want Sweets, hugs and toys Adults seek Refuge from noise. Anything naughty An adult forbids What adults want mostly They want to be kids.
Tattoo I've thought about one But I'm scared of the pain Will it fade with the sun Or wash off with the rain? A small one to start Nothing too flash Perhaps a love-heart Do I have to pay cash? The tattooist's gun Starts up with a whine My idea of fun? Nope, I've changed my mind.
Orange There's a girl at my school Who's called Lizzy Gorenje Which I think is cool Cos her name rhymes with orange. There is no rhyme for orange But don't tell Lizzie G.
Racism Tell me then, on what basis When you listen his views Is Trump not a racist Or is that his fake news?
Love Dearest darling Lynne You're the tonic in my gin But when you eat, you gobble And when you laugh, you wobble. My one and only Sam I love the way I am But you're an ugly git I've had enough, I quit.
For You Here's a poem for you I wrote it by myself If I hadn't made it up It would still be on the shelf.
Paper The world is using less paper Most of my books are on Kindle This must be a good thing, right As all of our rain-forests dwindle. I don't even use any cash now I pay everything credit card But how do I wipe my bum though This laptop's too rigid, too hard.
If If wheels were square Instead of round Cars would be useless For getting around If schools were round instead of square There'd be no naughty corner And no naughty chair.
The Poet I have realised, when I cark it What will become of my blog Who can I trust with my laptop My buddy, my missus, my dog? So, I'm now looking for an apprentice To train 'ere I finally go Otherwise you will wake up one morning To no more little poems from Hobbo.
Poet Don There's a poet, Don, who lives in Oz Who writes a little blog Which often stars his cat And occasionally his dog. His poetry is funny His wit it bewitches And some of his comments Will leave you in stitches. He should have more follows But he's been overlooked So give Don a try And I bet you'll be hooked. Poet Don lives in Australia, and publishes three or four short posts every day. He's one of the first bloggers I started following on a regular basis because some of his stuff is really funny. I think he should have a lot more followers. Please give him a try and see if you agree. The link is; https://donmatthewspoetry.com (This is an unsolicited personal recommendation)
Home My cosy little home A shelter from the storm Wood burning on the stove My tootsies nice and warm.
Ponder I pondered the meaning of life Gave it some serious thought The answer, the edge of a knife Either beer, or maybe it's, sport.
Granddad Granddad loved his dogs He'd kept them all his life So when he popped his clogs He left one to his wife.
Inspiration Oh, what a caper A clean sheet of paper I need inspiration Shall I try medication? Something ongoing Would set juices flowing Is this writer's curse Or do I call it blank verse?
Politicians Bill and Ben, the flowerpot men Talked rubbish, splobalop When politicians do it then Is it something they can't stop?
Water Water, water everywhere And not a drop to drink I've fallen in the ship canal And my,it don't half stink.
Van Halen When I found out, I cried The news was so shocking Van Halen has died I bet heaven is rocking.
Graham Liver Graham's show On in the morning Makes me laugh And stops me yawning. His surname's Liver As in diver Don't say liver as in river. ...although he does know his onions.
Trump Was Donald genuinely ill Or was it just a stunt? We should accept face value, still We know the man's a ****.
Owain Owain Evans makes me grin With lilting, sing-song vowel His quiffed hairdo, and perfect skin More camp than Baden Powell. He's very entertaining though Attracting interest Through sun and wind and rain and snow And those suits are the best.
Shorts Downtown in Burnley the people wear shorts Perhaps it's a Lancashire thing Baring knees at the first sign of Summer And airing them, through until Spring. Calves that are shapely, knees that are knobbly Legs that could win the Gold Cup Braving arctic conditions, blowing a hooley These things should be kept covered up. In cold or in rain, folk put on their coats Whilst waiting for sunnier skies But even in wellies, they're still wearing shorts Must be something they put in their pies.
Happy Anniversary Married now for fifty year And I still think you're hot So, love is in the air, my dear When you say, "Yes. Why not?
Brexit It's our own fault We chose to exit Talks at a halt A no-deal Brexit?
Hair My hair Thrives everywhere In my ears Up my nose Trim it off Back it grows Bushy eyebrows Very scary Why am I So blooming hairy?
Litter The sight of so much litter Has left me feeling bitter Find a bin for that used mask It's not a lot to ask.
The challenge A beautiful woman named Claire Sent her dad down a wire for a dare Like Castor and Pollux They trussed up his bollocks The height of it gave him a scare. He flew through the air like a plane From Portugal right into Spain She was clearly so proud But he said to the crowd "You won't get me on it again."
Nonsense Crazy Maisie, ticky tocky Oops a daisy, Jabberwocky Easy peasy, squishy squashy Lemon squeezy, wishy washy Steady Eddie, sweet as honey Fiery Freddie, funny bunny Buster Grimes and chilly Willy Nonsense rhymes are just plain silly.
Black lives matter Black lives matter, our latest refrain Praying this time, the phrase will remain Until at last our mindset's been changed Living in peace, no culture estranged. Look at the States, so many have died For trivial stuff, police homicide? The many campaigns, like 'I can't breathe' 'Sandie speaks' and 'Taking the knee.' Black lives matter, but if you adjoint White lives, all lives, you're missing the point Mikey Holding, the sports commentator Eruditely explained what the campaign's for. Hundreds of years racial exclusion Frustration breeds, blacks need inclusion No one's born bad, from parents our views Neighbours and teachers, the six o'clock news. What we need then, good education Learn to be friends, no segregation 'Black lives matter,' really, I get it Let's make changes, let's not forget it.
My Hat Collection Picking hats for my collection My choice has been meticulous I only wear them one at once Or I would look ridiculous. I'll start of with my baseball caps I've collected five of these Two were from sunny Australia Where shade can hit forty degrees. There's a cap from Canada's Bamf Embroidered with proud Maple Leaf Whilst one from our amis in France Has the Eiffel Tower motif. My golfing favourite was purchased At the British Open event Where Darren Clarke beat all the others In sunshine, at Sandwich, in Kent. So cheap is an old knotted hanky It's one that I almost forgot The sun can not get at my head If it's cloudy, I fill it with snot. A real Aussie bush hat from Perth Is just the sartorial ticket And a foldable one from Tasmania Perfect for watching the cricket. My fedora from M and S I sport with an elegant style And wearing my chequered flat cap I look like the Duke of Argyle. In winter the ear flaps come down When cold snow and hail starts to fall But my scary old balaclava I find it the warmest of all.
Friends Simon was famous on Facebook Had hundreds of friends in his life Yet no one he actually spoke to No buddies, no girlfriend, no wife. His success was repeated on Twitter One million followers plus But he came to a violent ending Knocked down by the number nine bus. The money he made from his adverts Was left to his favourite quartet And mum organised a huge funeral For all of his friends on the net. Though no one showed up, not a sausage To see Simon the Superstar off In reality, he was as popular As a man with a bad Covid cough. So, if you are an internet wizard With a wit that's as sharp as a knife Don't forget to engage with real people Get up and get out, get a life.
Cheers The dozens of words and expressions To describe what's a drunken condition Makes me realise, being out of your tree Is a time honoured human condition. Drunk as a soldier, drunk as a sailor Drunk as a Lord, drunk as a skunk Drunk as a fiddler, drunk as a fart Drunk as an owl, just plain drunk. Intoxicated, inebriated Bombed, bladdered, pissed Smashed up, sewed up, tanked up Flushed, tiddly, Brahms and Liszt. Crapulous, maudlin Out of it, befuddled Raddled, addled, primed, screwed Happy, merry, muddled. Boozed, tight, tipsy Obfuscated, fuzzy Three sheets to the wind Gaga, giggly, muzzy. Search a synonym for sober though The well is almost dry A boring state to be in So, "Cheers. Mud in your eye."
Cross Family Butchers At Cross family butchers,our food is nutritious And all of our meat is simply delicious Burgers or sausages, steaks or a joint Give us a try, we won't disappoint. And as for your barbies.what better idea Than out deal of the day washed down with cold beer.
Mates Two right good mates Meet up in a pub They have a great time And eat lots of grub. They drink loads of beer Then, needing a wee They follow each other It's normal, you see. One says to the other "This trough's a bit high." "Mines longer," he said "I'll give it a try." Then he looks across A girl's washing her hands It's a sink, not a trough Fast, he understands. They've gone in the ladies Instead of the gents The lass does not laugh Pays no complements. Both so embarrassed The two stop mid-pee Then zip up their trousers And giggling, they flee.
The Restaurant "My sirloin is tough." "This wine's a bit rough." "It's busy, I know But service is slow." "My soup's almost cold." "This bread's five days old." "Toilets are dirty." "That waiter is shirty." "Has B.O moreover." "Shush, he's coming over." "Ladies! Everything fine?" "Yes thanks. Some more wine!"
Kids I like kids, honestly I went to school with some But I couldn't eat a full one I'd get a poorly tum.
Alcohol Alcohol and me Now that's a complex one Makes me do some stupid things But I've had a lot of fun. The life and soul of parties Singing karaoke Remembering all the gags That's me, Mr Jokey. I've woken in some states Nowhere near my best I've been sick on the streets And woken fully dressed. Things I am ashamed of Which, sober wouldn't do But drink gave me the courage To whisper,"I love you." And you are everything So tell me, in the end Is drink one of my demons Or a very fickle friend.
Powerhouse You'll be a Northern Powerhouse They promised the North West We're now the Covid Capital Does that mean we're the best?