The Friday Poetry Thread

Working in brixham a place i cant stand, all the birds have fat arse's and they all push prams.

Who cares about the Argyle kit
As long as their winning and dont play s**t
They can wear any shade of green
but red or blue should not be seen

It rained yesterday, it poured today
It'll rain tomorrow at some stage, f*ck it, I say.
Early train to Penzance, there's a window per chance
Of sun, sea and saffron. a Mazey day trance

Who hid the mid summer sun ?
Who stole the green from Plymouth's gun ?
Frack your oil, squeeze your boil
Your system's f*cked, you've poisoned our soil

But never mind, Jamesyboy is here
To save us all from a life so austere
As he plans and plots volunteer clots
I long ago learned to join the dots.

See ya

Spent the day in Plymouth,
Even saw me Mum,
Now I'm off the Shagstone,
Poke it up yer bum.

Penz wrote:

It rained yesterday, it poured today
It'll rain tomorrow at some stage, f*ck it, I say.
Early train to Penzance, there's a window per chance
Of sun, sea and saffron. a Mazey day trance

Who hid the mid summer sun ?
Who stole the green from Plymouth's gun ?
Frack your oil, squeeze your boil
Your system's f*cked, you've poisoned our soil

But never mind, Jamesyboy is here
To save us all from a life so austere
As he plans and plots volunteer clots
I long ago learned to join the dots.

See ya

That's a cracker !

It's raining it's pouring
It's all feckin boring
I'd started a tan but now I've gone wan
And the forecast is ever appalling

Temperatures in the mid thirties,

Fans by day, aircon at night.

Next week, back to Blighty,

Bitter beer in sight.


Premier League cricket at TPCC,

My favourite place to be.

But what I wouldn't give right now,

For an Ivor Dewdney !

Chilling on the sofa, whadda guy
watching England Aus, a pointless ODI
David Warner, aiming for cow corner
Cmon Swann, make him gone

Cuts, cut, cuts, no more buts
Cameron's world, shopfronts shut
Hi-tech bombs from unmanned drones
landing on civilian homes
Bored of Kabul, onto Tehran,
more expense for the infantry man
Lets bomb them from afar
fly 10 miles above Syria
Spend our money on these rockets
blow their terrorist arms, from their sockets

ROAR

TFIF I hear you all say,
I need to grow flippers to work in this rain,
broken down plant,
and stroppy suppliers,
drive me to drink,
I think I'll need Cider.

We have a new poster who has been quite funny,
He protests that he isn't that dimwit Dane Bunney,
Bunney loves this site more than the Queen,
And despite both loving MAN UTD, he isn't Saltash green

A new member, with echoes of old,
As ever the welcome, our shoulders not cold.
his spag not great, the occasional own goal,
I wonder if he knows that chap Bradie Cole

Braidie Cole is a member
(If you know what I mean).
I may be thick
but I'm not green.

Meanwhile other members
get their knicks in a twist.
I just hope they remember,
if other teams are dismissed,
early signings are no indication
of failure
and our current nadir is temporary aberration.

(Well, what more do you want? It bloody rhymes!)

Summer is icumen in
Next year, maybe

ever since they announced a drought situation. it has pissed down.

Cerbs has left,
Gob's his mod,
Salty's joined,
Our new Mod Bod.

I like KFC, I love chicken
Ripped from the bone, my lips a licking
A gravy covering on my fingers
A burger or two, upgrade to zinger!

I've got tequila in my fridge
tomorrow night drunkeness? Just a smidge!

For he's football crazy,
He's football mad,
The football it has taken away
The little bit o' sense he had,
And it would take a dozen servants
To wash his clothes and scrub,
Since James became a member of
That terrible football club.

(Original work - I changed the name to avoid copyright issues)

On a tram till the end of the line.
I'll then have to walk,
I'm glad it's fine.

With two weeks to go
Til the start of the show
Somebody's realised
The Olympics aren't go

There's missiles on roofs
And the stadium's done
But of security
It seems there is none

So people with tickets
Will turn up and wait
For a soldier or matelot
To open the gate

And meanwhile if you get next week's Radio Times you can knit your own Usain Bolt.

I've been in Chorley this week,
No coming in my ears,
No getting up early tomorrow,
So tonight I'll have a few beers.

Its sunny outside
I'm like the tide
I like to hide
Will you confide?

Glad this weeks over,
and the one before,
all of this rain,
is a complete bore.

The Olly-ompics, what's that you say?!
This year is ours, in the cycling relay!
My eyes however, will be elsewhere
Upon the cricket I will stare
Graeme Smith vs Ali Cook
those forearms, technique so textbook
Jimmy A v Dale Steyn
I hope to fook that there aint no rain.

I've got a head-ache.

Cos I drunk too much.

Am I out for drinks tonight?

Just a touch.

Another Friday,
Another week,
Same old Argo,
Up the creek.