Forum Poem

[saxon51]

Come on chaps, don't like to moan

But now it seems I'm on my own

This poetry thread is rather thin

To add a verse won't be a sin.

 

A record here is what I'm after

Never know, might get a BAFTA

My typing digit's getting weak

So please, your help I humbly seek.

 

It's not for me I yearn this glory

I want to build a FORUM story

Little bits from ALL us fools

As long as we stick to the rules.

 

So please, I beg, on bended knee

Contribute a verse or three

No matter what your poetry's like

Just type it here, won't take the Mike.

[Phanerothyme]

but i tried it once,

i'm out of stunts.

verbally deflated,

poetry abated.

[Guest Pauly]

I hear your cry for help 'ar chap

But t'seems you have your verse on tap

Ev'n tho I've just arisen from't pit

I'll try to help you out a bit.

 

While out last night my pal did spout,

'Ey Paul, don't get me wrong or owt.

But lookin round at all these women

There's few with whom I'd share mi linen'.

 

Well clearly he's a picky sod,

But then he's not just on his tod.

We both like girls who dress up nice

And keep their 'flesh' unadvertised.

 

Division St was packed last night,

In other towns there'd be a fight.

But as is always t'case you see,

Seems trouble stays away from me.

 

We finished in a nice late gaff

Good atmosphere and friendly staff

Although it's name I can not pass,

For that's DaBouncer's patch of grass.

[saxon51]

The sun is high the air is sweet

I'm in the garden, bum on seat

Some birds are singing in the trees

While on the flowers are flies and bees.

 

My pond is cool and full of life

A sure escape from daily strife

I sit and watch my flowers grow

What's this? a neighbour's stereo?

 

So this is it, just like LAST year

As soon as Summer days are here

Out they come, the bloody deaf

Sod everyone, don't give an 'F'.

 

And so to strains of tuneless crap

My day is ruined, can't even nap

So in I go for peace and calm

With windows open cos its warm.

 

God, what's that smell? I think I know

As particles through the window flow

That's it, Christ, now my pressure's higher

Some chuff's just lit a bloody fire!

 

So windows closed, as hot as hell

I try to get rid of the smell

Roll on winter when these bores

Seldom wander out of doors.

 

So for my fresh air I must go

Into the country, but "Oh no!"

You'll never guess what I can see

Those ignorant sods have followed me!

[Sam Miguel]

I've been to Heeley Retail Park

To buy a shirt it looks quite dark

From Matalan the garment came

It's black as coal, looks quite insane.

 

I'm going out see, later on

a 40th birthday bash, rock on!

At Darnall Libs the party's at

The place is dire it's really tat.

 

So Newky Brown then drink will I

and eat the sausage rolls - pork pie

And then come home we will by cab

after drinking, eating mixed with gab.

 

Then on the forum I will type

with drunken fingers lots of hype

and then no doubt I'll fall a-snooze

after copious pints of North-East booze.

 

The moral of this story is

Working Men's Club's just aint the biz

so stay at home on your PC

The Sheffield Forum's the place to be!

[saxon51]

Here he comes the ice cream man

Pretty chimes, and little van

Waiting, waiting. Will he stop?

99 with nuts on top.

 

Moving closer all the time

Louder, louder is his chime

Soon be here, I just can't wait

Standing by the garden gate.

 

He isn't slowing, drives straight past

So I follow, very fast

Waving, shouting, running after

Street is full of cruel laughter.

 

Round the corner, up the hill

Panting, waving, running still

Ice cream man ignores my cries

Tears are forming in my eyes.

 

Very soon I see he's stopping

Children queue like grown-ups shopping

Take your time till I get there

Cross the road with greatest care.

 

Breathing now with lungs a-heaving

In and out of folks I'm weaving

Finally I'm in the queue

"Boy in front, I'm after you."

 

Shaking legs and knocking knees

"Can I have a 99 please?"

"Sorry lad you can't have nowt.

He were't last, I've just run out."

[saxon51]

So ice cream free and knackered out

I kick and scream, and swear and shout

The people stare, the air is blue

I have my rights,.....I'm 52.

 

I cast my mind back years ago

When I was only 10 or so

And life seemed oh so simple then

A full toy box, a garden den.

 

I had no worries, life was good

No future plans for adulthood

Getting lost my only fear..........

And the occasional clip around the ear!

 

I'd wait for Santa in the gloom

And wish he'd soon come to my room

But by-and-by I'd fall asleep

Then wake, "Look prezzies in a heap."

 

The paper off, my room a mess

What's from whom? I'll have to guess

"Mum, dad, wake its christmas day!"

"Yes, thats nice son, now go away."

[saxon51]

Now I've grown old, I've lost some hair

My knees grow weak with every stair

But life's been good, it could've been worse

At least I've made it to the 101st verse!!!!!!!!!!

[Phanerothyme]

markham is this the end?

been driven round the bend?

this poem has smashed a ton

are you gonna end the fun?

 

or do we continue progress

at your behest?

spouting verse

that's sometimes terse

 

or verse that's purple, overwritten,tortured

oversweet, like rotten apples an in orchard.

bad verse that doesn't rhyme,

or uses cliches all the time.

 

so where do we go from here,

save to the pub for a beer.

the poem i mean - in which direction

do we take at this poetic intersection?

[saxon51]

No Phan old son, it doesn't end

We'll carry on, we've set a trend

This poem I'm sure goes on for ever

With verses crap, un-rhym'd, or clever.

 

Ideas are thin upon the ground

I'm sure if we all look around

We'll find some fuel, some inspiration

Points that need no explanation.

 

So off we go, another ton

It could be tosh, it may be fun

There is no limit to the time

As long as verses NEARLY rhyme.

 

I'm going now, my head it hurts

My inspiration comes in spurts

Later, though, a verse or two

At least on here we don't argue.