The Friday Poetry Thread

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Many poems rhyme
But this one don't

I wandered looney. head in clouds
Towards Home Park and Argyle
When all at once I saw crowds
A host of green Aviva bheys
So I went back home.

There was a young lady called Zan,
Who went to the Vale in a van,
She sold lots of scarfs,
And had lots of larfs,
We know that was always the plan.

The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.

The game was over and the crowds
Had all gone home for tea;
But all the lad could say, and say, was
Why don't they play me.

I scored three times down Viccy Park
Last week, and oft before
I've got the winner at last gasp
And even scored all four.

I'm tall, and fast, and very good
At holding up the ball
I know that I could do the job
And that I'd give my all.

For Argo, for it is my dream
To don the famous green
But all they say is 'wage cap son'
And I don't know what they mean.

My nose is red
And my fingers are blue
I hate the cold
And I hate you

But not really

The player stood on the football pitch
Looking for the goal.
He saw one & kicked hopefully
But it was his own!
The manager was not amused
And told said player so.
Said player said, "Sorry boss -
I was twatting on my phone".

This lunchtime, in Bath,
a man walked into my path,
he was wearing a wooly Argo hat
identical to mine.
Fancy that.

Just seen this thread,
Oh shit, it's Friday again,
I can't think of anything poetic,
So that's that.

Tomorrow is the day we play Southend,
I hope no one ever refers to the President as Bellend,
Because he's got bad ankles Dickinson will fail to score,
The half time entertainment will be great with Johnny Hore.

Luggy returns, his budo house up for sale, as he plays away
Stick your blood and snotters up your ass, as you swim in the river tay,
Auction threats are made by the porcine ( ) chap,
Feeble attempts to attack ATD are a load of crap.

IJN and best mate Dunce enjoy their twatter,
Dunce sucks up to asshair head and scum utd no-marks who don't matter,
REAL ATD friends will meet for the second time,
We're all freaks and weirdos who drink lager and lime.

Everyone is welcome to come including Greengenes and Zee,
The meeting place has pork scratchings and toilets that smell of wee.
I must come to an end with the bollocks in this ditty,
So I'll stop now before my boxers get all smelly and shitty.

There was a young lady called Zee,
Who simply decided to flee,
She praps had enough,
Of this ATD guff,
You can find her now on Pazzotti

A week's gone by and nothing's changed
That really freakin weird one
is once again deranged

Friday's here, the weathers cack,
ATD comes under attack.
Same old faces in the frame,
Just what do they hope to gain?

the guys just mental
ffs!
a ball of pork
a ball of hate
an ex pc
he may have been
a bigger tw@t
you'll never see

There once was a website a spoof,
Made by a pig and a poof,
Not quite a week,
Til the whole thing did reek,
Then it folded to bury the truth.

A whole spoof website, just for us,
IJN says "what's the fuss?"
Nooly claims it doesn't matter,
Can't the goon just stick to Twatter?

Nandos Nandos. Where for art thou Nandos?
We are over here next the fly tipped freezer.
Well, in that case, I will have your sizzling wedges, for I am a hungry geezer.
Spotty student server, make it 12 full wings and chips ,
and while you are at it,
I will have a Powerade and a Perinaise Dip.

What a hungry young man you are
Are you a footballer per chance?
Indeed I am, and a fine one too.
I scored the goal that beat Man U - at least on PS3.

We get all the footballers in here.
An Exeter player drinks Ice Tea,
and sticks a fresh Portuguese roll up his rear.
Another adds feta, to his chicken and fries
while Uri Geller bends all our forks, and napkins, and all our butter knives

I didn't know you had butter knives
I shall enjoy my food knowing that.
But, in future, I shall prefer it, if you didn't serve me
you spotty student tw@t.
But tell me, young crater face, do you have a loyalty card,
to reward my hot sauce fetish?
Hold on...Carl Fletcher has just walked in, so I'll just have the lettuce.

Fletcher's banned his young players from Nando's,
Saying what he wants is a team of can-dos.
When they're full of that crap
They can't kick or trap,
They might as well play every match in their sandals.

I'd like to feed them proper, me,
Fill them up when they has their tea.
None of all this plastic nosh
And, although we're short of dosh,
We should feed them all with Ivor Dewdney.*

*(other makes of pastie are available)

Thanks to teacher training
I've had two charges today
One is six and one is four
Their names I cannot say

We've cut and stuck and eaten lunch
And been to the library
And now they've gone back home to mum
I'm having a cup of tea

With no match on tomorrow
The weekend's nice and free
No stress, no worry, no despair
Just lots of time for me

Another Friday,
They're getting mundane,
No game tomorrow,
So no points to gain.

Think I'll just sit here,
From four until six,
Maybe read twitter,
For my Argyle fix.

The loony has been exposed and the spoof site is dead,
The pasoti mod is deranged and needs his head read,
The Macc game has been postponed due to the ice and the snow,
I'll miss Carl's in depth match analysis especially, You Know,


No football on Saturday, tis' a pity, as Argyle are on fire,
I might create a spoof website and get called a Liar,
Jealous Attacks on ATD have caused a big fuss,
But we all know its REALly that obsessed weirdo Porkus.

Friday Poetry is lonely when you're ten hours ahead,

I'm posting this late, from my 4 poster bed.

It is Saturday here; no work and no school,

I was just so lonely, so I broke the rules



No-one parodied me, nobody cares

cos I just don't exist, I'm just not all there.

Unimportant, and even pointless

Why do I bother, it makes no difference.

Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money 'cause I just got paid
Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

I got in town a month ago
I seen a lot of girls since then
If I could meet 'em I could get 'em
But as yet I haven't met 'em
That's how I'm in the state I'm in

Oh,
Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money 'cause I just got paid
Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Another fella told me
He had a sister who looked just fine
Instead of bein' my deliv'rance
She had a strange resemblance
To a cat named Frankenstein

Ooh, la,
Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money 'cause I just got paid
Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

It's hard on a fella
When he don't know his way around
If I don't find me a honey
To help me spend my money
I'm gonna have to blow this town

Oh, no
Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money 'cause I just got paid
Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

They couldn't parody Mock,
For he is too clever,
Can they ever hope to match him?
No, feckin never.

seadog wrote:

They couldn't parody Mock,
For he is too clever,
Can they ever hope to match him?
No, feckin never.

Seadog ..... we have an issue we would like to discuss with you ..... a pm has been sent.
It is in your interests to reply.

We can't say his name, but the man is a cock
Unable to match the humour of our very own Mock
With his best mate Dung, they met on twitter
Dung loves his idle wayne and wants to do him up the shi...nose