Rhyme crimes

[Jason James Gairn]

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten-ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

[David Humphries]

And if a double-decker bus

 

 

Now we're talkin' Jason

 

 

 

I'd like to drop my trousers to the Queen

every sensible child will know what this means

the poor and the needy

are selfish and greedy on her terms

and if the day came when I felt a

natural emotion

I'd get such a shock I'd probably jump

in the ocean

and when a train goes by

it's such a sad sound

 

 

SPM, the Bard of our times.

 

 

.

[Jason James Gairn]

Indeed he is contemporary and relevent particulary to teenagers.

 

 

Trudging slowly over wet sand

Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen

This is the coastal town

That they forgot to close down

Armageddon - come armageddon!

Come, armageddon! come!

 

Everyday is like sunday

Everyday is silent and grey

 

Hide on the promenade

Etch a postcard :

How I dearly wish I was not here

In the seaside town

...that they forgot to bomb

Come, come, come - nuclear bomb

 

genius

[Gaynor]

Indeed he is contemporary and relevent particulary to teenagers.

 

 

Trudging slowly over wet sand

Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen

This is the coastal town

That they forgot to close down

Armageddon - come armageddon!

Come, armageddon! come!

 

Everyday is like sunday

Everyday is silent and grey

 

Hide on the promenade

Etch a postcard :

How I dearly wish I was not here

In the seaside town

...that they forgot to bomb

Come, come, come - nuclear bomb

 

genius

Genius, indeed.

I've seen the great man many times. Unbeatable!

One of my favourite lines...

 

"...and I don't get along with myself.

And I'm not too keen on anyone else."

[Mr Ed]

It was just before dawn

One miserable morning in black 'forty four.

When the forward commander

Was told to sit tight

When he asked that his men be withdrawn.

And the Generals gave thanks

As the other ranks held back

The enemy tanks for a while.

And the Anzio bridgehead

Was held for the price

Of a few hundred ordinary lives.

 

And kind old King George

Sent Mother a note

When he heard that father was gone.

It was, I recall,

In the form of a scroll,

With gold leaf and all.

And I found it one day

In a drawer of old photographs, hidden away.

And my eyes still grow damp to remember

His Majesty signed

With his own rubber stamp.

 

It was dark all around.

There was frost in the ground

When the tigers broke free.

And no one survived

From the Royal Fusiliers Company C.

They were all left behind,

Most of them dead,

The rest of them dying.

And that's how the High Command

Took my daddy from me.

[Log-ologist]

Thomas Hardy

 

Dorsets, (arguably Englands )finest Poet and Author .

 

Logs On The Hearth.

 

A memory of a sister.

 

 

The fire advances along the log

Of the tree we felled,

Which bloomed and bore striped apples by the peck

Till its last hour of bearing knelled.

The fork that first my hand would reach

And then my foot

In climbings upward inch by inch, lies now

Sawn, sapless, darkening with soot.

Where the bark chars is where, one year,

It was pruned, and bled -

Then overgrew the wound. But now, at last,

Its growings all have stagnated.

My fellow-climber rises dim

From her chilly grave -Just as she was, her foot near mine on the bending limb, Laughing, her young brown hand awave.

 

December 1915.

[Will Hinchliffe]

Gods away on businesses

I'd sell your heart to the junkman baby

For a buck, for a buck

If you're looking for someone

to pull you out of that ditch

You're out of luck, you're out of luck

 

The ship is sinking

The ship is sinking

The ship is sinking

There's leak, there's a leak,

in the boiler room

The poor, the lame, the blind

Who ore the ones that we kept in charge

Killers, thieves, and lawyers

 

God's Away, God's away

God's away on Business. Business. God's Away,

God's Away God's Away on Business. Business.

 

Digging up the dead with

a shovel and a pick

It's a job, it's a job

Bloody moon rising with

a plague and a flood

Join the mob, join the mob

It's all over. It's all over, It's all over

There's a leak, there's a leak,

in the boiler room

The poor, the lame, the blind

Who are the ones that we kept in charge?

Killers, thieves, and lawyers

God's away. God's away, God's away

On Business. Business.

God's away, God's away. God's away

On Business.

 

Goddamn there's always such

a big temptation

To be good, To be good

There's always free cheddar in

a mousetrap, baby

It's a deal, it's a deal

God's away, God's away, God's away

On Business. Business.

I narrow my eyes like a coin slot baby,

Let her ring, let her ring

God's Away, God's Away

God's Away on Business.

Business..........

 

 

Tom Waits

Strictly these are lyrics to a song. Tom waits is my favourite poet. He co-writes the lyrics to his newer stuff with his wife Kathleen Brenan

[sanny]

THE TREE (REPOST)

 

the tree

 

when the big tree falls

hit by lightning

roared by thunder

 

when the big tree finally falls

and i am there

the bid sound

of a giant tree

falling finally to the ground

 

the arrogance

that used to be

 

of that big old tree

we all look up

its so high

and we do not

climb it anyhow

 

we fear

and

perhaps we too pay respect

for its grandeur

 

and today this big tree falls

hit by lightning androared by thunder

 

the universe clasps upon the

fallofarrogance and pride

and a trees belief about

its hugeness and strengh

 

now it falls

and i am here watching it

you are not here

you in some foriregin country

 

how can i tell you

that this tree has fallen

and there is nothing to fear anymore

your logic tells

there is no tree

there is no tree of such strength and posture

there is no tree like that

 

that can ever fall

all because a lightning hit it

and all because the thunder roared

 

by RIC S. BASTASA

[Tom D]

This is a genuine Robert Burns poem / song.

 

Its called "Cock up Your Beaver"

When first my brave Johnnie lad

Came to this town,

He had a blue bonnet

That wanted the crown;

But now he has gotten

A hat and a feather,--

Hey, brave Johnnie lad,

Cock up your beaver!

 

II. Cock up your beaver,

And cock it fu' sprush,

We'll over the border

And gie them a brush;

There's somebody there

We'll teach better behaviour--

Hey, brave Johnnie lad,

Cock up your beaver!

 

 

Apparently a "beaver" was a kind of hat.