The Poetry

[vernon]

Simon and Garfunkel - America.
All heard it and it sounds fine. But look at the lyrics and not a rhyme in sight and it really does not even scan or have a set structure.

Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together
I've got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner's pies
And we walked off to look for America
(..)
They've all come to look for America
All come to look for America

S&G write melodious shite
As you said not a rhyme in sight
I cannot stand that 'Feelin' Groovy'
I'd rather watch a crappy movie.

 

[User32269]

Wear your helmet.
You'll be safe and sound.
Hi-viz will prevent you
Being mown to the ground.

National Poetry Day?
It could be worse.
Make a pleasant change
To be trolled in verse.

 

[Fnaar]

Miss Goodbody said to the vicars
"What's that, that you've left on my knickers?"
The vicars replied, (slightly dying inside)
It's the nougat from several Snickers.

 

[vernon]

Wear your helmet.
You'll be safe and sound.
Hi-viz will prevent you
Being mown to the ground.

National Poetry Day?
It could be worse.
Make a pleasant change
To be trolled in verse.

I'm sorry mate you're rather late
To the great hi viz/helmet debate
If you think you'll get a reaction
You'll get at best, no satisfaction

 

[User32269]

I'm sorry mate you're rather late
To the great hi viz/helmet debate
If you think you'll get a reaction
You'll get at best, no satisfaction

Do your research.
Your having a laugh.
Give it ten minutes
Til someone posts a googled graph

 

[vernon]

Do your research.
Your having a laugh.
Give it ten minutes
Til someone posts a googled graph

I'm confident they'll not post here mate
Ten minutes? you will have a longer wait
The helmet shite is elsewhere
Post your trolling droll crap there

 

[claudbutler]

My goodness you are all so great. I wish that i was so educate But i suppose that will learn me Not to listen to poetry

 

[winjim]

I like writing haikus
but I never get the structure right.
Or the number of syllables

 

[IDMark2]

It is not me
It is my double
Calling him scruffy?
You're in trouble.

You're not scruffy,
It's the beard,
I don't know,
It's kind of weird.

Anyway I know,
You won't beat me up,
You'll send Fenton,
While champagne you sup

 

[Fnaar]

Here's one I posted a while back, all my own work

Oh! Bury me in lycra!
With a bike-shaped brooch above my heart
Take me not by motor-hearse
But pulled by trike, upon a cart

Give my spare parts so some young buck
May make a start upon the road
Take the pannier of life
And balance carefully his load

Clean your rims, my friend! For you may find
When you clear the hilly top
That the brakes of life may seize
And take you to a messy stop

Oh! Bury me in lycra!
So when I get to heaven’s gate
St. Peter in his wisdom
Can take the piss out of my weight

Take my ash, and let it fly,
O’er the land of Shimano
But save some for Italia fair
And the fields of Campagno(lo)

So take this Cateye, let it shine
In the dark, where’er ‘tis found
And fettle not my bottom bracket
Afore ye lay me in the ground

 

[EltonFrog]

Poetry
Is
Poncy
Shite
The End.