Amateur Poet's Corner

[MrBen]

Down the Lane at Christmas time,

Mistletoe. And expensive mulled wine.

Good luck if you think you can buy a house here,

Tangerines, sourdough and facial hair beer?.

Fresh pasta and sushi and other such fads,

Nick Drake on the iPhone and Hipster Lite dads,

A long queue at Begbie's for a thin number five,

A pint at the Bishop for a post Sainsbo's skive.

Shops selling good stuff, stores selling shite,

Boulangerie Jade. Roullier White.

And suits off the train as they march with their feet,

Shopkeepers bid Fox good day down the street,

(Pushing my buggie without inhibition,

For a warm spiced rum. At the Great Exhibition.)

[MrBen]

I know what you're all thinking. Poetic genius.

But bad poetry is therapy.

Do your worst.

[MrBen]

/over

[Baggs]

A good first effort your lordship,

if the aim was helping me to "lose my shit".

Apologies if the following sounds like a rant

but your cute little ditty has twisted my pants.

Hipsters and buggies are ruining this place.

In 1994 you could see the odd face

without piercings or beards or something else shifty

and we once had an average age of near fifty.

These new-folk rattle on about progress and change

but this gentrification is downright deranged.

20 years later and what have we got?

Another f*ckin' italian in the mexican's old spot.

Cheese on toast, it's the same old story,

you'll find a much healthier meal in the Dulwich Tandoori

if you have space for dessert go to kebab and wine

Five pounds of your hard earned and nutritionally fine.

A post-prandial drink in the Cherry Tree

would be ill-advised if you're asking me

The staff are brutes and the place is doomed

lets hope wetherspoons revives it with microwave food.

etc.

[????]

Try again

MrBen

[Robert Poste's Child]

A poem is not

Prose in lines of the same length

Plus some dodgy rhymes.

[steveo]

Two words: McGonagall

[????]

I remember when this was fields

Not buy to let with piss poor yields

North Cross Road was almost dead,

Not all clogged up with four quid bread

Many locals wanted away

To lovely Bromley they hoped one day

They lood at newbies from their fence

?all these yuppies more money than sense?

A Friday night down on the lane?

A pint? a curry? Pretty tame

For those that find it new and strange

You can do F all about such change

[jctg]

The greatest poem ever:

Oh, I wish I?d looked after me teeth,

And spotted the dangers beneath

All the toffees I chewed,

And the sweet sticky food.

Oh, I wish I?d looked after me teeth.

I wish I?d been that much more willin?

When I had more tooth there than fillin?

To give up gobstoppers,

From respect to me choppers,

And to buy something else with me shillin?.

When I think of the lollies I licked

And the liquorice allsorts I picked,

Sherbet dabs, big and little,

All that hard peanut brittle,

My conscience gets horribly pricked.

My mother, she told me no end,

?If you got a tooth, you got a friend.?

I was young then, and careless,

My toothbrush was hairless,

I never had much time to spend.

Oh I showed them the toothpaste all right,

I flashed it about late at night,

But up-and-down brushin?

And pokin? and fussin?

Didn?t seem worth the time ? I could bite!

If I?d known I was paving the way

To cavities, caps and decay,

The murder of fillin?s,

Injections and drillin?s,

I?d have thrown all me sherbet away.

So I lie in the old dentist?s chair,

And I gaze up his nose in despair,

And his drill it do whine

In these molars of mine.

?Two amalgam,? he?ll say, ?for in there.?

How I laughed at my mother?s false teeth,

As they foamed in the waters beneath.

But now comes the reckonin?

It?s methey are beckonin?

Oh, I wish I?d looked after me teeth.

[Robert Poste's Child]

And see also

http://www.eastdulwichforum.co.uk/forum/read.php?20,119138,page=1

[KidKruger]

Is for posting one's own poems or those of other/established poets ?

[MrBen]

Any bad poetry qualifies...

[KidKruger]

Oh, I've only got a decent one.

[red devil]

There was a man called MrBen

Well known for his business acumen

He dined out at The Patch

Found their service was snatch

''They'll nae last 'til Christmas, ye ken!''

[Alan Medic]

Bill and Ben

Were flowerpot men.

That was in the past

And didn't last.

Bye bye Weed.

[red devil]

There was a man called *Bob*

Tickling the ivories was his *Job*

His witticisms are sublime

Time after time

Still, it's a wonder he hasn't been punched in the *Gob*

[El Pibe]

last line's a bit of a mouthful (baddamtish)

[david_carnell]

Keef is now Otta

Sean became S Jack

Mockney turned into El Pibe

And I've forgotten who was Mick Mac

[red devil]

There was a lady called Sue

With builders she had an issue

So cowboys beware

If she fixes you with her stare

Your Goose will be cooked...Yahoo!

[Jeremy]

There are many debates

Amongst the ensemble

Including Jah Lush,

And Loz the cockwomble

[El Pibe]

it may not be art

it may not even be good

very funny though

[red devil]

There once was a rocker called Ots

Young, free, single and spots

Where once it was his Fender

And a weekly booze filled bender

Now it's just washing up the pots

[Mick Mac]

david_carnell Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> Keef is now Otta

> Sean became S Jack

> Mockney turned into El Pibe

> And I've forgotten who was Mick Mac

Only ever been Mick Mac.

[Jeremy]

red devil Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> Where once it was his Fender

He won't like that.

[red devil]

You try and rhyme Rickenbacker!.. ;-)