The Friday Poetry Thread

All in all it's just a, another kick in the balls.

I was going to write a verse
That said it couldn't get much worse
But as rhyme was my anchor
When it came to "banker"
I couldn't find one that would do so I stopped

In the deserts of Ham Green
And the gardens of Keyham
From Stoke Village to Mutley Plain
We're all singing one refrain

Hit me with your ministand
Hit me, hit me!
Let it bear the Nikkkk brand
Hit me, hit me, hit me!
Hit me with your ministand
Hit me Nandos, hit me Brent
Hit me, hit me, hit me!

Oh Baby James what will will do?
The proles are rebelling they think your plans poo.

Cricket here, so fecking slow
Blockety block, a leave from Compo'
Just let them get out, I was almost torn
I miss them days of Trescothick and Vaughan

Start spreading the news, of ATD's views
we don't want no part of it Home Park Home Park
The ministand blues looks likely to stay
More seats the very heart of it - Home Park Home Park


I wanna wake up in a city that has no sheep
And find I'm in a nice stand - and not some small heap

These little club blues are melting away
We'll make a big new stand on it - Home Park Home Park
If Brent can Build it there, he'll build it anywhere

It's up to you Home park, Hooooooome Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark.



I thank you.

on it goes, when will the end come?
when we have a stand thats bleedy 'ansum

A day in sunny Plymouth,
A day of familial love,
Back on board this fooking boat,
Bollocks.

It's Friday, sun's shining, no time to be sad
Tho the plans submitted are really quite bad
A boxed in mini-stand complete with a shelf
A load of parkland to which Brent's helped himself

'It's ghastly, not good enough' is the clarion cry
On viewing the shite plans it's plain to see why
Don't waste time arguing with JB's sychophants
Toddle off and tell the planners that HHP is just pants

A haiku:

Exeter are sad
The people from there are racist
just like young 'pitbull'

What a week, what a week
So much on my plate
And the country's imploding
With bigotry and hate

Then closer to home
The plans can be seen
Ministand, cinema,
Strangling the greens

Never mind, eh
The sun's out today

Saturday here,
Probably there too now,
Time zones zapped,
Sunny as fook though.

Sausages, bacon
Bacon sausages
Sausages,bacon
feck it - eggs.

we're lost in matchbox grandstand
caught in brents trap
no turning back

we're a first in football................................

When Friday Poetry becomes
Saturday's and then
Sunday's
You know the world's turned upside down.

When poetry no longer rhymes
You know
It's time

To approve the plans
That are on their way
In Central Park,

And Argyle goes
The way
Of all small town clubs,

And if
In times to come
You think "Where's it all gone?"
The world will have truly turned upside down.

Friday, Friday, Friday
Looks like another dry day
Might take my lunch to the park
So the sun can leave its mark

Not that I'll get to read my book much. The place will be full of lost souls asking the way to the cinema

Winter's here,
The sun is warm,
The sky is blue,
But Sydneysiders wrap up.

me van broke down
on tother side of town
so i had it towed
back to my road

A stand too small - a situation of deep gravity
Another dentist, yet no filler for our city's soul's cavity
The greed prevails, the mood is dark
A cinema built on public dark!?!!!
Planners of this monstrosity in for a shock
When The Hero Mock Cuncher decides to block

He wrote to the council
He wrote to the planners
He wrote to the hippies
With eminent manners
He signed the petition
Encouraged friend to do so too
He chained his balls to the turnstiles
As the protests grew
He signed up to the Herald
made his deep feelings known
He worried it was too late
Chances of success blown
When hunger strike failed
he didn't feel blessed
the only thing for it
was a dirty protest

poooooooooooooooo

Mock Cuncher wrote:

A stand too small - a situation of deep gravity
Another dentist, yet no filler for our city's soul's cavity
The greed prevails, the mood is dark
A cinema built on public dark!?!!!
Planners of this monstrosity in for a shock
When The Hero Mock Cuncher decides to block

He wrote to the council
He wrote to the planners
He wrote to the hippies
With eminent manners
He signed the petition
Encouraged friend to do so too
He chained his balls to the turnstiles
As the protests grew
He signed up to the Herald
made his deep feelings known
He worried it was too late
Chances of success blown
When hunger strike failed
he didn't feel blessed
the only thing for it
was a dirty protest

poooooooooooooooo

What did YOU do during the war? feck off Newell you're just a bore.

Little Boy Blue
Come blow your horn
And get down to the Argyle shop
There's a top
You might like

I will use rhyme and to reason to expose sycophants treason.

It's time to put a spanner in the works
As PCC in its duty to Argyle does shirk
No time to waste, write to the Secretary of State
Tell your mate to do so too - and his mates mate

A 'Call In' will make for a different ending
And plans that will be subject to much amending

Edited to specifically add - here's the link to write to the Secretary of State

CALL IN THE SECRETARY OF STATE NOW

After the madness at the Cherry Tree
I'm looking forward to a great partee
At Chepstow Races to bet on horses
And eat a meal of many courses

Then real Madness as Suggs and the boys
Come on stage to raucous noise
Hundreds of people moving their feet
To the Nuttiest sounding rock steady beat

So I propose a big whip-round
Let's tot it up pound by pound
Donate your savings and even your giro
Send the repugnant Newell on a nightboat to Cairo

I'm in:P

Plymouth Argyle,
Like a flower,
Withers and dies.