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Poetry |
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Last Updated: 04/02/2008 17:09:04
Another Shite Poem
By The Criminally Awful Michelle Dee
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A bed too far
A taxi too soon
Remember to note down
The name of that tune
Send a message to
An electric friend
Maybe the point is
Always to mend
Leaves that float
Under their own steam
A cameo role
In a cascade dream
Couple, you're sighs don't
Trifle with a mother
Reading the paper
Whilst undercover
Don't rock the boat
Fall sharply though the net
We'll make a fine poet
Out of you yet
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Copyright © Michelle Dee 2008
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Comments Prototype Version 1.0 by Mo
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Poetry - Poetry Is... By Joe Hakim
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Some people
ask: What is
poetry?
Is it about
metre
rhyme
stanzas
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Poetry - Hey! You! or: Recommended reading: ever tried reading your bookcase sideways at three in the morning after an afternoon drinking bacardi and coke (if not maybe you should)?.
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hey che
where are you today?
your primark t-shirt passed my way
no logo
brain-dead!
branded
cripple-handed
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Poetry - Those Indie Chicks By Joe Hakim
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With your asymmetrical haircuts
bleached almost white,
gonna have it large tonight,
drink and flirt
in your pencil thin skirts
and funky little tops
from the vintage clothes shops,
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Poetry - Fucking Jeremy Kyle (what you don't see in Tesco's).
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the thompsons are not quite in their right minds
as if they had spent a long time in the hospital,
their horse-high ambition
destined for the knackers
she with the birds nest hair
tuts into the living room
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Poetry - The Lesson By Joe Hakim
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There's a lesson to be learnt,
even if I don't know what it is.
I'm at a friend's house
and I'm checking my e-mail
and there it is:
a poetry organisation has
nominated me for
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Poetry - Heron By Katherine Horrex
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Puffed up, portentous. Mortar board tassels
Flapping with distinction in the breeze, a heron
Has with ease cast off his fledgling's first year rags,
Graduating from estuary banks to next door's pond-
A task that has presented him a sharp thirst
It seems, as he sips at the siphon before sniping fish
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Poetry - Snakes and Things By Andrea Longstaff
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When I take pictures my eyes realign
At the end of the day I sleep in a barn
The wandering insane impinged on my pain
So I listened to music 'till sunrise
When she asked for my name I said "I don't know"
I'd forgot who I was a long time ago
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Poetry - Now She's Gone By Mike Watts
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Every Friday was pizza night
And we'd share a large pepperoni
With extra chilli
And a box of fries
Which I always dished out 60/40
Because she was too gorgeous
To be ruined by equal portions.
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Poetry - I Can't Speak For You By Paul England
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every turn I ever took
left me questioning my mind
I'm picking through my closet
but the truth is all I find
life has left me lost
feeling only blind
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Poetry - The Petite Bourgeoisie By Laura Fry
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Your parents did their best for you
And that's why money's always meant a lot
They were never well-to-do
So you'd do so much better, so you thought
Baby-boomer, Sixties child
Sex and money all rolled into one
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Poetry - Juggling Chainsaws By Joe Hakim
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There's a gig I need to do,
a flat I need to view.
There's a point to be proved,
a sofa to be moved.
There's a table to be cleared,
a reputation to be smeared.
There's a drink I'd like to taste,
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Poetry - These Streets By Mike Watts
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These streets are as mean
As a dog gone mad
The raised fist
Of a drunken dad
A thousand wasps
In a swarm of fury
A hot and hungry
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Poetry - I'm Confused By Sven Rez
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Two quid fifty a beer!
Out three times a week
Hundred quid for alcohol, taxis and that greasy kebab
And I'm not on about your mum
What about the drugs?
What about the new clothes for a night out?
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Poetry - Depression and Grime By Laura Fry
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The turkey is burnt, and nobody's learnt
That the whole malarkey is nothing but twaddle
Uncle Bert's put his new socks in the bin
And Grandma's on her third bottle of gin
Christmas time
Depression and grime
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Poetry - Definition By Sven Rez
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A degree does not bring happiness
A holiday does not bring joy
Sadness brings pain
Without sadness, no one will be happy
A light does not shine
A star cannot shoot
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Poetry - The Crude Politics Of Petropublicans And Democradicals And Indepundits By Del Abe Jones.
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Where do we get these people
Who fight new energy
Then, raise the price of oil
For their greedy industry?
Where do we get these people
Who build the cars we drive
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Poetry - The Warriors Holiday By Del Abe Jones.
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The holidays are upon us
And Christmas is drawing near
But for far too many Families
There won't be a 'Happy New Year'.
Their loved ones are off at War
In some far-off foreign land
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Poetry - Dead Flowers By Paul England
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I hate these fucking lines
the ones that tell the truth
these lines that tell the world
about my misplaced youth
lines of yesterday
still playing in my head
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Poetry - Away from Here By Sven Rez
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Meeting new people with same enthusiasm of life
To travel so far on my own
Out here, there is no stress or worries
A far cry away from home
Sitting here on the golden sands of paradise
The night filled with thousands ...
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Poetry - Bruises Look Nicer in Twilight and Snowshoes Cause Blisters At Mealtimes By Andrea Longstaff
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Smoking crack in a rickety shack
Hoovering up pygmies while wearing a mac
She was reminiscing about a girl called Jack
Well bugger me it's still raining.
The metaphor's ran a race for life
The Queen didn't mind when
Read more...
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Poetry - Nature At Its Best By Cathie McCarthy
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Standing on the cliffs edge
Watching the sea at its best
Waves getting vicious and wild
Beating away at the lands coast
I almost feel the anger of this action
The strength it takes
As it washes away a little more land
Read more...
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Poetry - Somewhat Between Scenes... By John Winn
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I saw butterflies flying in the sky
I notice that they do not fly so high
But drift along a pleasant breeze which is neither here nor there
With windows closed I can see darkness
Detached from a modern "bring down" world
Sacred texts hold you in place
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Poetry - Chants By Shaun Heesom
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I drank a glass of auld lang syne
And burned the mistletoe
I walked down 'Chants'
Like I used to do on Christmas Eve
Many times before
How it has changed
Who did this?
Read more...
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Poetry - The Next Buzz By Michelle Dee
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I turn the corner there's a queue
going right down the street. The occasional shriek
as excited young girls, dream of men they might meet. My feet
make no sound as I pass around people standing.
Striding for the door I ..
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Poetry - Whisky By Shaun Heesom
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I woke up early
No I didn't it was late
My head was clear and alive
No it wasn't it was hungover
I thought how great life was-
- nah I didn't
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