I visited Paris recently
There was lots to do and lots to see
Like the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower
Where I queued up for over an hour
Just for the opportunity to scare myself witless
And pay over the odds - it was just ridiculous
Then there's the museums including The Louvre
Fighting my way through was quite a manoeuvre
After I'd given them my money
I got lost for hours which wasn't funny
I didn't even like the subject matter
And there was no one there with whom I could natter
I visited the Notre Dame
Well it was in my pre-arranged plan
And likewise with the Sacre Coeur
Visitors genuflecting at the great Monsieur
That area though didn't have much to offer
I was just adding to their enormous coffer
Now I'm glad to say that I'm back in Hull
And my culture overload is completely full
For me Paris was not fantastic
Because my purse isn't made from elastic
For sure Paris has a distinctive flavour
'Rip off the Tourists' is the one to savour
In Paris I saw one lady I'd call 'chic'
You know the type - she just had 'it'
In Hull I see lots like that
They shine through like 22 carat
I think Hull blokes though need to work a bit harder
Cos those Parisian fellas - well - they're you know ... la la la - di - dah
Compared to Parisian beggars our beggars have more class
Some of ours have a dog and some smoke grass
The Parisian beggars have practised long faces
And sit on the pavement in their allocated places
Our beggars don't use a plastic cup for offerings
No, they use a base ball cap and hope for sovereigns.
Hull art galleries and museums are free to all
Our parks and gardens are unsurpassable
Our shops and malls are just the right size
Over Paris I'd say we'd win first prize
So who needs Paris and their fancy ideas?
I'll stick with Hull - Good health - and - cheers
Poetry Larkin 25 - As I Come Down By Pamela Scobie
As I come down from Sewerby,
Higher than spire or tower or tree
Before me hangs the sea,
Sparkling like laundry on a line
Fresh-washed in sunshine.
And all the daffodils stare back at me
With meercat curiosity,
A mad old biddy skipping by.
Poetry Larkin 25 - Poetry or Prose By John Fewings
There's a very fine distinction
Between poetry and prose:
It's such a fine dividing line
And no-one really knows.
You once could tell the difference
'Cos poetry would rhyme
But poets just don't bother now;
They haven't got the time.
Poetry Larkin 25 - Drifting By Malcolm Wilson Bucknall
Shadows of the night are drifting
Across the shores way out to sea
Sedated passions of the long day
Resting now contentedly
Gentle ripples skim the waters
Burnished by the pale moonlight
Echoed words are softly whispered Read more...
Poetry - Future's End By Bernard Franklin
To the people of the past,
Mother nature's had a breakdown
our radioactive oceans smell,
so the world that we've inherited
is a form of living hell.
There's no ozone layer up there
to protect our precious skin,
and the pollution in our water
Poetry - To Conrad's Horror By Steve Rudd
The ocean is so blue as to be meaningful.
It's only in the dead of night, right
at the end of the pier
where dreams can be analysed
and swept aside
into the dark, cold grave
from which they first came. Read more...
Poetry - Rhubarb Rhubarb By Catherine Scott
Doug and Blair's programme is my Sunday treat
Their advice and humour would be hard to beat
Blair tries hard, he's developed the knack
Of skilfully keeping Doug on track
Doug offers guidance which is easy to follow
I say, 'I'll remember that and do it tomorrow'
He really is an inspiration
Poetry Larkin 25 - Men With Books By Holly Roach
I sat and studied your words.
Was told what you meant
by a stranger to you
and I took it as proof
that the saying was true
about the pen above the sword,
and men with books will be adored Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Once Bitten, Twice You Die! By Bronwyn Ellis
It'll be fine,
He said with drink in hand,
As his silent mousy lover,
Looked helpless at her man,
And as he contemplated where to sip another beer,
His misses wondered if tomorrow she would still be here. Read more...
Poetry Bring It On! By Mike Watts
I cracked open
Sent them sliding
Across the pan
Then I began to butter
Some bread cakes
To the left of me
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Pigeon By Terry Ireland
I am one of the pigeons that live on wilberforce's head
which in pigeon meritocracy puts me near the top
between those on the city and guildhalls
and those on the better type of shop.
I got this position by birthright
we've been here since 19 and 10
in spite of attempts to remove us
Poetry - Somewhere In Between By Jody McKenna
In the darkness of the room
I feel the melancholy gloom.
I'm just a loner in a tomb
Making a bold step on the moon
But no-one gets me.
Whereas, the light beneath the sun
That makes the rest of us become
The mundane workers on a run
Poetry Larkin 25 - Scatter Me (for TFG) By Pamela Scobie
Oh, scatter me over the umber Humber
Under a hurrying sky,
On a dark day in December
Or a turbulent July.
For longer than I can remember
I've been preparing to die.
I want to go back to wherever it was
I came from in 'forty-nine.
Poetry Unblinking Moon By John Horsley
There are tears in the eyes of the man in the moon
For he fears he may lose his loved one soon -
She is Earth, his only friend in space,
And for millions of years he has looked on her face.
How plain and ordinary he feels
As round Earth's horizons the sunrise steals,
And floods his beloved in dazzling light Read more...
Poetry M.S By Charlotte Bartle
It was your smile
I noticed first,
Drawing me in
To unchartered territory -
Unknown to not only me,
But I think
To you as well.
I said Read more...
Poetry - The Liver Poem By Joe Hakim
C'mon mate, why do you treat me so bad?
I mean, look at the state of you, how many have you had?
And what's the plan tonight - ten pints, twenty fags, a kebab?
If you keep this up, we'll both end up in rehab.
Why are you being like this? We're supposed to be friends,
I'm one of the things on which your life depends, Read more...
Poetry - Hull By Laurenceaux.
Hull is not a rat-race.
Hull is a nice place.
Hull is not chav-town
Hull has thrice a crown:
a king's town.
Kingston Upon Hull;
full or Tigers, Robins and Airlie birds,
Poetry - I Love You in that Jumper By Catherine Scott
I love you in that jumper
The fitting is just right
It's not too long and it's not too tight
And the colour's not too bright.
I love you in that jumper
You look so snug and huggable
So gorgeous, warm and lovable
Poetry - Dandelion Wins! By Cathie McCarthy
I, the dandelion
Blowing in the gentle winds
Cascading on the spring air
Finding pastures new
Settled on April's wet soil
Waiting to start anew Read more...
Poetry - Matriarchy, or Suitable Male Heir Lacking By Ruth
Just a girl
running home after school.
Bounding up stairs in sensible shoes.
Be seen and not heard!
Wrestling Elders' expectations;
Not comprehending 'cultivation'. Read more...
Poetry A Yellow Ball By Mike Watts
Kneeling beside him
On the tiled floor,
My throat tightened.
This was it.
I buried my face
Into his neck.
That smell -
Old, arthritic loyalty:
Poetry - Dying Forests By Dayne Coyne
No life upon it
There are no futures for this world
Poetry - Lining Rhymes in Hell By Paul England
Back in 96
damn I lost my head
shit I fell apart
when I found a brother dead
Friends they sold me out
while fools they sold me short
well tell them fools I'm back
cos the devil won't be taught Read more...
Poetry Larkin 25 -The Hands of Time By Malcolm Wilson Bucknall
Etched and wrinkled by the winds,
Tormenting as they drift.
Elements of time have scarred
Faces of granite cliffs.
Whipped and lashed by angry crests
That leap up from the sea,
Faces of gaunt granite rocks
Grimace their misery. Read more...
Poetry Squid By Christy Hall
The hook still snagged in its alien-like gob,
I gut the squid, slob, laid to rest:
a rubbery slab, quick-death, done-job.
A squabble of tentacles, its own busy head crest.
Arrow-shaped head cut from hood cavity.
Next the beak, squid-man incommunicado.
His sea-words and song left to me, Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Love's Vigil By Brian Hodgins
Little old lady standing there
Eyes of blue and silvery hair
Pavement glistens with winter's frost
A vigil kept for the love you lost
He sailed away one early dawn
To break your heart, left to mourn
Dark curly hair, a smiling face
A lover's kiss, a last embrace Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Help for the Heroes By Patricia Gray
Come on help the Heroes, give your fifty pences
When will the government come to its senses?
They're sent into battle and give of their blood
In a war far away, does it do any good?
Blindness, deafness, serious amputations
Limitless gratitude owed by the nations
They're sent into a war and they give of their best Read more...