Sponsored Links


  Sponsored Links


  thisistheworld.com


  Sponsored Links


  Contributors Guide


Economist Style Guide.
Economist Style Guide.

  Ull Guide

Learn to speak 'ULL

Poetry Bookmark and Share
Last Updated: 06/06/2011 12:52:04
Ham
By Mark Walmsley

Anticipation in the air
Not a seat to be had
Not an empty chair

Ice cream and popcorn being eaten by all
The lights go down, in the Victorian hall

The curtains pull out and the stage is set
The audience shuffle, as comfy they get

Act 1 sees a cad throw a girl to the floor
In comes our hero, he bursts through the door

'Alas and alac, what goes on here?'
Our hero he shouts, the crowd give a cheer

Without further ado he picks up said girl
Grabs our villain and begins to whirl

Around and around our hero he fights
But manages to trip over the stage footlights

Without control his guard he drops
As he tries to grab hold of the nearest stage props

The audience are stunned they laugh and they cry
As our hero still dizzy, goes whizzing by

At last he is steady and decides to sit
But doesn't see the orchestra pit

Over he tumbles and down he goes
All arms and legs Followed by his toes

A soft landing he has on something he bent
The strange lump under him is an instrument

Our villain and girl help him out quite quick
He is shocked and dazed, and feels quite sick

Musicians are scattered with faces quite red
A boy from the crowd shouts 'What's that on his head?'

The crowd by now are in fits of tears
A tuba player is stuck up to his ears

They push and they pull but to no avail
The big brass lump will not give way

Without further ado the cast scramble back
As the poor tuba player has a heart attack

Our hero now tries to complete his part
And attacks the villain who jumps back with a start

He shoves away our hero and is quite mean
Then stumbles and trips into the back drop scene

Over it falls upon the poor man
Our villain dashes in to do what he can

Once again all battered and bruised
Jumps out of the wreckage, he is not amused

The audience points, and shouts a bequest
'Watch out for the sandbag,' that swings into his chest

Around and about, the stage set comes down
Our hero carries on, saying his lines with a frown

'Away vile heathen,' our man gives a shout
Our villain lays still, he's been knocked out

The theatre is full of howling and glee
A night of such humour we will never see

Down comes the curtain to end this poor sham
From hero to zero our Theatre Ham

Copyright © Mark Walmsley 2011
thisisUll.com Featured Writer Mark Walmsley
Click for Home Page Click for Index Page
Poetry - Administration's Curse By George Fripley
They fuck you up, administrators,
They don't mean to but they do,
And while you're drowning in your work,
They add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By administrators in the past,
Who devised the systems now in use,
Read more...

Poetry - Sensations By Sylvia Robinson
As warm as red, as cold as blue
As friendly as green, and calming too
As vibrant as orange, subdued as black
As white as snow, before any tracks
As mellow as yellow, with lemony twist
As bold as purple, as grey as mist
As bland as beige, as glistening as gold Read more...

Poetry - This Was My Day By Monkeyleg
I lay on those cliffs for hours,
Watching and waiting,
Listening to the lone farmhouse,
A distant way to the west.
The gentle swell of the North Sea,
Behind me, to the east.
My mind an easy wind.
Read more...

Poetry - Claude Stanley 'Chuckles' Choules; 3rd March 1901 - 5th May 2011 By Terry Ireland
The last known combat survivor of
the great war has passed and gone
ninety three years almost since it ended
in so any ways the world has moved on
We kill more efficiently these days
the leader of a nation of great wealth
watches by beamed live transmissions
as a terrorist leader is killed by stealth Read more...

Poetry - Loneliness By Angela Morkos
Loneliness is a wasting disease
You smoke the years away in your room
Or haunt supermarkets at 9pm
The bright lights will distract you from your inner gloom.
Loneliness is cancer
It eats you cell by cell,
The years slip by, you age, you tire
And wonder Read more...

Poetry - Loneliness By Angela Morkos
Loneliness is a wasting disease
You smoke the years away in your room
Or haunt supermarkets at 9pm
The bright lights will distract you from your inner gloom.
Loneliness is cancer
It eats you cell by cell,
The years slip by, you age, you tire
And wonder Read more...

Poetry - Shell in a Box By Laurenceaux.
There was life there
and you took it away.
Warmth;
but you cooled it.
I had feelings
and you numbed them,
emotions 'till you slit my faith
and bled them dry. Read more...

Poetry - Snowy Mountain Blood By David Delaney
He views the brumbies fleeing down the hill
while now he's chasing, closing at great pace.
And knowing that one slip out here could kill,
he can't afford a tumble or lose face.
The cracking stockwhip sounded as he cheered
it echoed through the valley far below.
These Queensland mountains many have revered,
Read more...

Poetry - The Lurker: Only in the night By Jody McKenna
In the day you tread on egg shells.
Your words and steps are very carefully chosen.
Dead to me is you, the lurker.
Death to you is nothing.
In the day you play the little act.
You play the roll of Judas.
Betrayal with your head held high.
Lying near the weary witness. Read more...

Poetry - Latch Key Kid By Patricia Gray
I was a kid of the 80s,
I was a latch key kid,
No-one to see what I got up to,
To know just what I did.
I'd run home from school,
Put my key in the door,
Have a drink and a sandwich,
Throw my bag on the floor. Read more...

Poetry - Fallow Field By Laurenceaux.
I clawed the crumbling rocks.
Through the frosty mists I crawled
until spent and resigned to fail.
I cut my hands and tore my nails
for the ledge I had to find,
then finding I fell.
I awoke on my ledge to a feeling of loss;
Read more...

Poetry I'm Going on a Diet By Catherine Scott
I'm going on a diet, I'm determined to get fit
But first I must go shopping to purchase the right kit
I'll ask Ruth if she'll go with me - she's sound with her advice
Then we'll slip into café for a tea and custard slice
I need to get some trainers and some fancy little socks
Some shorts and track suit bottoms and one or two new tops
I'll pop into the book shop and buy myself some books
Read more...

Poetry Earwig By Mike Watts
I was miserable in a queue at my local post office
Listening to a fat man
Who owned his own car body repair shop
Spouting to the cashier how he just loved
All of the snow and ice
Because he was earning a fortune
And that he hoped it would continue
For at least another six months
As he was hoping to buy the spare land Read more...

Poetry - The Jeremy Kyle Show or That's Entertainment By Terry Ireland
It's on the television in the morning
for five days of the week
with its constant daily parade
of inadequate, stupid and weak,
all there to help him
play his nasty little game
in return for ten seconds
of very dubious fame.
He speaks to them quietly, Read more...

Poetry Later, You Returned to the Sea By Christy Hall
To the coast, what other setting but by the shore.
We crept along the promenade holding hands,
staying close in the cold.
You were reluctant to step onto the sand
in canvas shoes, so I piggy-backed you
towards the surf, and the bank of wet stones.
A sprig of seaweed, typical litter, a twig. IRead more...

Poetry - Some Kind of Sequel By Joe Hakim
My mam rang the other day.
She had been reading the
local paper, and she rang
to tell me that she had seen
an obituary.
It was yours.
You were one of my first girlfriends,
Read more...

Poetry - Bagman Pete By Bernard Franklin
This is the story of a good man,
whose Christian name was Pete,
though he started at the top of the tree,
he ended up upon the street.
He sleeps in Cardboard City,
with other people just the same,
to see them in their homes of paper,
should make their families feel deep shame. Read more...

Poetry - Betrayed By Paul England
The devil fills my veins
that's why I talk so cold
my soul was only stolen
that shit was never sold
dad just did me wrong
so my love you just won't feel
mother talks such bullshit Read more...

Poetry - A Student Summer By Bryan Berue
I'm sitting here
Alone,
Suffering from a lack of... mmm,
No crisps.
No individual delicate whisps
Of cheese and onion flavoured
Fried potato chips,
No garlic and herb,   Read more...

Poetry - I Really Did Like You Susan Fewster By Ray Moody
I really did like you Susan Fewster.
Even when I said, 'Well I don't like her!'
When you were absent from school that day
And your classmates made me aware
When they told me that you liked me and I blurted out,
'Well I don't like her!'
Please forgive me, I was childish, Read more...

  What's Happening?

  Chill Out
  About Us
  
  More...

Legal Disclaimer   Privacy Policy   Contact Us   Advertise Here  
New iPoetry Application on Apple ITunes Store for iPhone/iPod Touch  
  Top of Page.
The opinions expressed here are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the positions of www.thisisUll.com.
  Webmaster Comments?   © 2003 to 2010 www.thisisUll.com, All Rights Reserved.