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This diary entry is written by ‹xXteeny_tiny_domokunXx›. ( View all entries )
 
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Poems I have foundCategory: POEMZ!
Monday, 23 March 2009
06:59:35 PM (GMT)
N.P. Poems #1-#5 r very humourous!
#6 is for easter




#1: Breaking into Tesco's


By Gary Tacagni

I'm breaking into Tesco's
As my wages don't go far
I can't afford to feed myself
Or put petrol in my car.

I'm breaking into Tesco's
With a minimum of fuss
I can't afford to drive there
I usually catch the bus.

I'm breaking into Tesco's
And stealing for the poor
I circumvent the checkout till
Then I get some more.

I'm breaking into Tesco's
Its safer than the street
The checkout girls don't use guns
It really is quite neat.

I'm breaking into Tesco's
And having a marvellous time
I stop and cook some dinner
Then wash it down with wine.

I'm not breaking into Tesco's
Even though its been effective
They've offered me a job
I am now their store detective!


#2: Titter Ye Not Amy


By Paul Curtis

The pop diva Amy Winehouse
It was announced in the press today
May stay in Frankie Howerd’s old house
if Amy’s Mum manages to get her way
Her mum told her she has to go to rehab
But Amy said nay, nay and thrice nay


#3: Lets Feed the Poets!


By Kevin Cowley

Lets feed the poets. 
Lets make them nice and fat,
And to their inflated sense of worth
Lets take a baseball bat

Lets feed the poets
Feed them till they’re stout
And when they bleat on about their miserable lives
Lets kick the buggers out

Lets feed the poets
Feed them till their sick
And when they drone on about their bleeding hearts
Lets give them a bleeding kick

Lets feed the poets
And keep their mouths so full
That when they try to speak
We can’t hear all their bull (shit)

Lets feed the poets
With a portion of humility
A slice of humble pie
Washed down with a dose of reality

Lets feed the poets 
With their ego and their vanity
And from the highest window
Lets see if they can defy gravity

Lets feed the poets
Feed them all we can
And shout out “why don’t you get a life”
“you sad excuse for a man!”

Lets feed the poets
But, if what I say is true
Then I must be one of them
Oh my god, I’m just like you!


#4: Wheelie Bins


By Gary Tacagni

I'm sneaking out my wheelie bin
While the street lights are aglow
I have to be at work for six
Else the council they will know.

Its like living through the cold war
Having the council and their rules
With their snooping, spying ways
While treating us like fools.

I was squashing down the lid
As I had overfilled this time
When a nosey neighbour reported me
Now I have a hundred and ten pound fine.

I think my bin's been bugged
I've just about had my fill
I have slung it in the river
Let the council foot the bill!


#5: The Oogey Boddle


By M.H.Child

There's an Oogey Boddle down my garden,
He lives at the end of the path, 
I'll take you down to see him
If you promise not to laugh.


He will not know we're coming,
Because a witch cast a nasty spell,
His legs have grown out of his ears,
So he can't hear very well.


But walking can be a problem
So what does an Oogey Boddle do?
He gave his arms some TLC
And they grew and grew and grew.


And when they reached a certain length
To his great joy he found
That with one hand following the other
He could move along the ground.


Its not often we can see him,
He only moves at night,
Because,by chance one morning
He saw this dreadful sight.


He was looking at a tadpole
That was swimming in the pool,
When he saw this apparition
"Its you,you fool, you fool!"


This monster that was eyeing him,
So awful to behold,
Was unfortunately, himself
And made his blood run cold.


No water must reflect his sight
Or his poor heart will break,
So the hours of darkness comfort him-
If he can stay awake!


#6 an easter poem: The Easter Bunny 


By Emma Wassell

There's a story quite funny,
About a toy bunny,
And the wonderful things she can do;
Every bright Easter morning,
Without warning,
She colors eggs, red, green, or blue.

Some she covers with spots,
Some with quaint little dots,
And some with strange mixed colors, too
-- Red and green, blue and yellow,
But each unlike his fellow
Are eggs of every hue.

And it's odd, as folks say,
That on no other day
In all of the whole year through,
Does this wonderful bunny,
So busy and funny,
Color eggs of every hue.

If this story you doubt
She will soon find you out,
And what do you think she will do?
On the next Easter morning
She'll bring you without warning,
Those eggs of every hue.
Last edited: 25 March 2009


 
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