The Friday Poetry Thread

The sky is blue
The sun is out
So now it's time
For a Friday shout

Four more home matches
Yet to go
But can we win them?
I don't know

And four away
We've yet to travel
I hope our season
Won't unravel

Any further
Than already done
The thought of non-League
Is far from fun

Our 92nd season
Of the league game
And if we go down
It'll never be the same

[Editor's note: the rest of this manuscript is illegible. It appears to have been very wet at some stage.]

Nine at night,
And the sun has gone,
By this time tomoroow,
I'll know if we won.

Me ship's in dock,
All in bits,
And all the mess,
Gets on me tits!


COYG!

I'm here for the "Friday Poetry Thread"
Nuff Said!

Welcome, Herr Moist, to this glorious thread
Where we're living in interesting times
But sadly those times won't be featured on here
Cos everyone's run out of rhymes

I have not run out of rhyme
I have run out of time!

Ha Ha
Ta Ta

Still in Hull,
Still in bits,
Loads of mess,
Still on me tits.

Come on now chaps,
the time is here,
Pick up the pen
Put down the beer!

Been busy all day
(Well most of it)
Spent the evening with Neil Innes
And he was good, innit.

Tomorrow I'm at the theatre of greens
(Well lots of it)
Would have gone to the GASB
But now can't - that's shit, innit.

I think we will win
(If not we'll be back in it)
Against the Northern men
Hope they're worse than us, innit.

Sorry for the late entry

The fool in the Pool
Likes to play with his Nool
Argyle will win today
And everything will be cool.

Sorry it's Saturday;

Thanks to Tory bluff and spin,
I have no diesel to put in,
My empty tank is dry as sand,
To fill her up will cost a grand.

Old English proverb.

When pouring petrol always stand,
With a cooker close at hand.

Today is the day for the poetry thread
We missed last week's,
so it could soon end up dead.

Argyle are looking to survive
It gives me a hard-on,
Lets get three points at Promotion chasing Swindon.

Clean sheets a plenty with Fletch steering the ship,
I wonder who will be in goal?
Larrieu or Cole with the dodgy hip.

With blue skies over guz, what a lovely day
I hope my wife doesn't go shopping
As I've just received my pay.

I went to Swindon last year,
Bradley and Reda gave us lots to cheer,
Since then
It's mostly been tripe
I'll go again
When the time is ripe

A once proud site,
A place that mattered,
Lies in ruins,
Reputation tattered.

Come on Argyle,
Score a few,
Show the Wilts,
What we can do!

Three more points this season
And to celebrate, we'll have reason
We know we won't be worst
Cos we'll finish above ninety first

Brenty bought the club for a song
Under Fletch he thought it'd go wrong
Til we signed Purse
And Hereford played even worse.

Here's to next season
Look forward with good reason
It'll be time to cheer
Cos we cant be as shit as this year! !

All we want is your fooking IP!
Don't act like a troll, so snipey.
Who to trust in the internet world?!
I'm with Knecht-his banner unfurled.
Trust no-one. Rely on your gut til you know it true.
Hate Newell, and post some poetry...

Thrusting, slashing, stabbing, porking,
Multi mods will do the talking,
Move along it's all been said,
Old news now Windsor's dead.

Here I sit
pissed as a newt.
All I want is
our players to shoot.
And score.

A R G, Y L E,
Plymouth Argyle Fans are we,
With a nick nack paddy wack,
Give the dog a bone,
Exeter can feck off home.

What a day, what a week!
How glad I am, to be a freak
Surrounded by weird types, acting all coy
At least I know who they are, unlike Windsor Boy

No-one knows who the PASOTI mods are
the only certain is the chap De Lar.
No-one knows, who owns the place
No-one knows, behind which face

ATD the place to be
ATD, Friday Poetry...

Oh what a tangled webb we weave,
to make our posters fume and seeth,
nothing to see here move along,
this post is locked, hidden from the throng,
all the cowards are havin their day,
'tis so unfair I hear you say.

Its Friday again and this thread is becoming a pain in the bum
What can I write about, perhaps Argyle's win tomorrow at Morecambe?
The weather is wet, I hope the player's coach doesn't go into skids,
Fletch has admitted he's playing a team of kids.

We stayed up last week its reason to be happy,
If we don't get a better striker our prospects are crappy.
We need pace, vision, skill and someone that stands out in a crowd,
Let's nick that goalscoring bugger from Barnet, Izale McLeod.

After Symo's good work ATD will meet James Brent,
The venue has changed and its not in the Green Taverner's tent.
With questions to answer I hope James isn't coy,
But I'd like to know if he can give up the identity of Windsor Boy?

Webb, Webb, Webb,
I hate feckin spiders!

Wind in the Trees
Wind in the Trees
Wind in the Trees
Blamanche

Said Nool to Webb "I'm getting so much hassle"
"Fear not!" said Webb, "we'll elope to Windsor Castle..."