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Poetry |
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Last Updated: 16/06/2006 11:32:04
The Underdogs Of War-Games
By Patrick Henry
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Eight groups in The World Cup, imagine the worst in each to win
Through to The Quarters, The Semis, or The Final Game.
From defence to attack they might spring up surprising.
What have these minnow nations got going for them?
Talk of red cards, Paraguay once lost five million men
In their big 3-Nations War, facing Brazil. Uruguay and Argentine.
A border shoot-out of genocide proportion.
In sudden-death Cup shoot-outs they never survive Round One.
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One Paraguay fan had heart-valve replacement miracle
With a pig's ear and a bull's testicle.
Para's surgeons like their goal-keepers have lots to learn.
Animal Rights Protest that these parts must return.
Ivory Coast once called the Slave Coast had Blacks sold off their shore,
Quicker than Arsenal deals now by the score.
Ivory Coast they thought up a clean new name until
Green Animal Rights came back in on the elephant kill.
Australia could boomerang back if Rolf Harris put them in the frame
And gets his chipmunk teeth and chatter into our funny old game.
They've whacked us Poms in rugger, cricket, tennis and binge-drinking.
We transported them in chains twelve-thousand miles but they came back to win.
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Togo could sound dyslectic for a Roman costume party,
Or a sign on a take-away, hot-dogs to go.
Ecuador means Equator, so they can stand the heat
In the kitchen 'til Germany chops them to mincemeat.
Iran plan for The Final a nuclear attack formation,
Four-three-two-one to a penalty shoot-out countdown,
Shaking The USA in its paltry strategy.
In this glory game no time-out is taken, no cheerleaders cry.
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Saudi Arabia's team are great for the Footballers' Wives programme,
Having so many troubles and strife between them.
Any missing goal-strikes or penalties get hands and legs chopped off there.
The bull that lost its cojones went down - such a dark corrida.
Will England crush the Brazil nuts to grab The Cup once more?
In a pig's ear, pal, they will. In a bull's testicle, my dear.
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Copyright ©2006 Patrick Henry
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Poetry - Aliens Make Great Movies By Patrick Henry
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Great old Science-Fiction films are not released today,
When metallic strangers taller than lone cowboys landed to say
Their masters ruled distant weird worlds now at galactic war
With this frail Earth unless we wise up to the danger.
The Capital of Science-Fiction must be The United States.
All those terms together add up
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Poetry - Confetti By Tom Gant
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You said 'money' isn't the
be all and end all,
but the problem remains,
you don't know me
at all.
Peace is the only refuge
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Poetry - Pinfold Lane By Lee Cassanell
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They built on land where gallows stood
And devils plied their trade,
The hanging gale made killers sway
As craftsmen cut their graves
A Sailors crowd pushed to the front
To see a ship mate dangle,
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Poetry - Persona Ingrata By Patrick Henry
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From years overshadowed by smart authors, I woke in horror to find
Change gripped me bleak as Kafka's insect or Dr Jekyll's fiend.
Once on the skids in Paris, fleas that clung round my body
I flicked at Sarte's photo in a posh café.
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Poetry - Available On Demand By Joe Hakim
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Watching a girl
called Erica Yates
masturbate
on my mate's mobile phone.
'She's from Bransholme,
and on this bit
you can actually hear her moan,'
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Poetry - The Cost of Labour By Patrick Henry
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No fool, Britannia, never ever slaves since times
They fought for The Truck Acts, The Workers' Vote, the Right for Unions.
Loyal as Coronation mugs, some think Magna Carta put Civil Rights our way:
That job-form for barons who started higher up the tree.
They imagine that The Civil War
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Poetry - Decisions By Mike Watts
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Disturbed behind bleached white net
Crashing hysterically into the glass,
Should I thump, poison,
Or ignore you?
Buzzing black carrier of filth
Desperate to fly, desirous to feed
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Poetry - Earth, As It Is In Iraq By Steve Rudd
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What on earth is going on in Iraq?
It isn't even on earth, now
The violence is underground...
as a bomb a day surveys an old scene
from a play, that dropped out of school.
The Bard's lost for words.
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Poetry - The Day Off By Mike Watts
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On weekend parole I slip the boss
For time and space and candyfloss.
Early, and all the sleeping streets are mine
Except for those on double time;
Sickly crews with post-pub shock
A drink damaged body clock,
As I pass the milk and paper rounds
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Poetry - The Battle of Alderman Kneeshaw By Lee Cassanell
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I attended Andrew Marvel school from 1990 to 1993 and I have
vague memories of gang fights on Alderman Kneeshaw Park with
Archbishop Thurstan which was a Catholic school on the other side of the hills.
The two schools had been scrapping for decades and in a bizarre way
it was a tradition of sorts.
Much of it was chest beating and bravado but occasionally
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Poetry - Nagging Urge By Tom Gant
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Would it be so wrong, to
dig me up once I've gone?
Just to steal another glance
of the idle days we passed,
rather than lamenting over
countless dusty photographs.
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Poetry - The Rickshaw Termination By Patrick Henry
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In Delhi ten years back, time stood still.
Cycles flourished. Cattle grazed the streets.
From morning mist temples loomed vast as heads of gods,
Carved in curves of sun and moon. The sky hot, ethereal.
In dawn's half-light a centaur-shape enters the bare street,
Stealthy as a cat, almost silent but
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Poetry - Liquid Reflection By Steve Rudd
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From the bottom of the Dead
Sea, to the top of Mount Everest
We go to extremes, only in our best interests...
From A, to B - to be a better person
Night falls too soon, and we're lost out of season
In a region that few tourists
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Poetry - The Count of Earlsby By Shep
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The shadow falls
Upon the wine glass in his hand
The stones in his throat
Cast no prejudice
Alone he sits
Cold but calm
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Poetry - Where Did I Go? By Darren Sant
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Shrinking from the light,
Away fleeing into the night,
Scared to get that toe wet,
Too much fear, no emergence yet.
Withdrawn from the race,
Pride only to save face,
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Poetry - Tomorrow By A.J. Grant
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Life's full of surprises,
Some good some bad, some you wish you never had,
Tomorrow's just another day,
Or so they say.
Tree's are green Grass is to,
Roads are open Shops are to,
Tomorrow's just another day,
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