Silly Poems

aging

by Liz Marshall, Jo Webster-Green & Andy Curtis

With aging the belly gets flabby
It wobbles where once it was tight
It sneakily bulges from clothing
And only lies dormant at night

With aging the bosoms get saggy
They elongate down to the waist
It's awful to see them descending
But great to find out how they taste

With aging the willy gets wrinkled
It shrivels and stops having fun
It takes so much longer to harden
And softens before it is done

With aging the mind becomes slower
And memories of all that is bad
Fade into blissful oblivion
So you kinda forget what you've had

dictated swan poem (3rd attempt)

by Jason Thompson

As you glide through silver lake
A wake of lazy ripples
Leaves the arrow of your passage
Marked for a moment
Sent out across the surface.

Silence. And on you glide
All around the sound of gentle lapping
Gently applauds the dignified
Progress of your form,
A snow white number two
On a green-grey glass expanse
Of conjoined droplets.

Er.gracefully you swim on,
And as your silky neck bends down
Bowing as you lap the water,
You pause and smile.no..I mean watch,
Considering the flotilla of your family
And.er.hang on.

Oh swan, how can you.bugger.
No, I'll have to stop.
Switch it off Moira. Blast blast blast
The silly bloody (click).

andy is playing today

by Jason Thompson

Andy is playing today,
He’s sitting there now.
Choosing and using
And losing ideas that could be
Great. Or good anyway.

Andy is using the machines
Which make the sounds happen
In just the right place,
The best space.
That will, perhaps, some time soon
Stick a smile to a face.

Andy is listening now.
The key pressing over,
He sits and just listens to
The sound waves.
He waves back, and smiles.

grammer

by Jason Thompson

The rules that govern grammar
Are restricting and definitive.
It often gives me pleasure
To mischievously split an infinitive.

pigs and mice

by Jason Thomson

Pigs and mice are rather nice
But take the bones out first.

stop it!

by Andy Curtis

Don’t ask me stupid questions
About my online time.
It’s like asking an alcoholic
Why he wants a glass of wine.

the internet

by Andy Curtis

‘Mobile fun’, the advert said,
(I quickly found the site)
Soon hectic thoughts assuaged my head
As the banners began to bite.

I hate the evil internet
I loathe its cunning power
I‘ll only tolerate such marketing
For up to half an hour.

Not even safe in email’s peace
The spam rolls on and on
I don’t need ‘Red Hot Babes in Greece’,
For ‘wanton sexy fun’.

I hate the evil internet,
Or so I try to say,
But I stay connected every minute
Of every hour, each day.

a/s/l

by Andy Curtis

Is the art of conversation dead?
Have I arrived at relationship hell?
Is all that really matters simply ‘a/s/l’ ?

marriage

by Andy Curtis

The day I got married
I didn't feel harried
I didn't feel worried
Or horrid at all.
It was a moment to savour
And I didn't once waver
For no-one could save her
From a lifetime with me

christmas

by Andy Curtis

Christmas always confuses me
It's a time of giving, but nothing is free
Peace on earth, goodwill to men
Again and again and again and again

Christmas yearly brings it's mix
Of drunken rage and dirty tricks
It's meaning is scrambled, it's truth unclear
But we play the game like sheep, each year

And what of Jesus? what of God?
That kind of talk's considered odd
If the profit graph shows an upward trend
Believe what you want, just spend spend spend