Humour

Florence’s Pie

Sir Terry Wogan and Mason McQueen take a tasty trip round town…

*

No traffic jam when Terry came

No culinary surprise

He used his loaf and found some cheese

When munching round The Vize

He and his little Mason friend

Had breakfast at The Bear

Sausage, bacon, beans an ting

No revelation there

Terry chewed the fat a bit

And did a bit of walking

A bit of pork, a bit of cake

And pudding (now you’re talking)

The flight of locks left Terry cold

He didn’t eat the quackers

Then things got quite interesting

When John got out his clackers

And hold on there is Florence

Making Olde Vizes Pie

Terry’s buds are tickled now

A stuffed fox winks an eye

*

So cheers for that then, Terry, mate

You put our town on telly

But next time have some lardy

And get rat ars*d in the Pelly

*

by Gail

(For Florence from The Black Swan

and the Unusual John Girvan)

Fie Sir, thou art a Troll

Fie Sir 

(a response to a provocative post)

*

Your voyeuristic anal post

Has got me choking on my toast

I should have better things to do

Than commenting on sex and poo

Whilst everybody likes a joke

‘Tis somewhat niche, the anal poke

Night up the alley, hard to see

For those without a front door key

What people do behind closed doors

With wives or husbands, friends or whores

Is up to them when with consent

I question, sir, your post’s intent

We English hide within our castles

No comment when it comes to assholes

Trolling really gets my goat

Fie, sir, flounder in my moat

I hope your banal gasket’s blown

Write what you know and get your own

*

by Gail

Changing the Soundtrack

can you hear what I'm hearing for upload

(the bells of St.John the Baptist, Devizes, go Pete Tong)

Sunday, summer, church bells chiming

Ringing patterns, sounding light

Ancient forms of echo, rhyming

Complex rhythms, bounded, tight

Resounding voices throng the breeze

As tower captains keep in time

Wise bells with personalities

In sacred music, old, sublime

Last month the bells went out of sync

And changed the soundtrack of the town

No one heard but me, I think, but

‘Twas the Stranglers, “Golden Brown”

(dum, dum, di dumdumdum…)

by Gail

Banksy’s Joke

Dismal Gnome

I want to go to Dismaland!

I’ll thcweem until I’m thick!*

I have blisters on my fingers

From the endless futile click

There’ll be secretaries on it

Pulling non-existent strings

There’ll be rumours of a con

On social media and things

I want to go to Dismaland

And see the horrid stuff!

How come I can’t buy tickets

And my money’s not enough?

In the shadows Banksy chuckles

He’s got the Art World in his hand

He has turned pretention on itself

As planned

by Gail

The phrase marked with * is a quote from Violet Elizabeth Bott, from the Just William stories, who was a very spoilt footstamping little girl with ringlets and a lisp…

Tracey and the Boar

An apology to Tracey Emin for the rhyme ‘Not Feeling Tracey’s Badger’

written with unwisdom on the train home from

the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition…

 

hands up

Tracey and the Boar

 

I woke this morn regretting it

Saying Tracey’s Owl is s**t!

With one mean and sarky jerk

I cast aspersions on her work

The opinion that I hold of Tracey:

Brave and bold and rather racy

I’m just jealous of her balls

And that she has her stuff on walls

The girl’s been doing it for years

Painting truth through joy and tears

An artist’s path is long and rough

What right have I to knock her stuff?

The animals were pretty cute

(I swear I heard the Owl hoot)

Hands up, Tracey, I repent

For you are truly Eminent

*

If I were Tracey I would draw

This sorry poet as a Boar

by Gail

 

Performance Poetry

Is it cool to review yourself?  Probably not…

Performance Poetry

 *

Mad gladiator

Tossing herself to lions

Armed with only wit

 *

Disinhibited

“Titties” brought out for the lads

In verbal foreplay

 *

Lyrical satire

Like pencils sharped for pricking

Holes in lead balloons

*

From naughty corner

More by wine amused than rhyme

A shadow giggles

*

The tumbleweed blows

Words settle on silent ground

With one hand clapping

*

The poet’s cloak hides

Shoulders warm and broad enough

To quiver with mirth

 *

by Gail

Out of Line

Regarding the alleged naughtiness of Lord Sewel, former Deputy Speaker of the House of Lords and Chair of the Privileges and Conduct Committee…

 

Out of Line

“Order, order!” he shouted “We’re all out of line”

“I’ll see to that” quoth the whore

“And if you’re a good boy we’ll do three in a bed,

You can snort off my titties and more”

Oh silly old Sewel you poor addled old fool

So clearly misguided and randy

That the question of cash and the secretive flash

Were obscured in a cloud of nose candy

 

 

by Gail

 

Tree Humour

A gentleman from The Devizes Issue website has well and truly Punned me in response to this photograph…

green light quakers walk

*

My response adapts an old English rhyme about ashes and oaks, splashes and soaks and also the phrase

“Mighty oaks from little acorns grow”

*

Tree Humour

One joke about ash might be comedy cash

Bash on about oak and leave comedy broke

Tree humour: a) corny but b) each to his own

For the mightiest joke from a seedling is grown

*

by Gail

Fair Game

seeing red...

 

 *

Tally ho boys, sound the horn

The fox is on the run

Who let the dogs out

On a killing spree for fun

Tally ho boys, we’re entitled

We few, we happy band

To terrorise your wildlife

As we trample on your land

*

From the hedge a wordsmith

Chuckles with defiance

Cropping out the ‘orsie’

From the ‘Countrysidealliance’

* 

by Gail