I found this poem on the website www.poetry.com.

Any comments on the underlying metaphors?

Powerful Lyrics

Testing the pages,
I feel they are warm,
Lubricated with a transparent layer of oxygen,
I try to look on, seething.

Grab my arm!
It falls away like a broken cup handle.
It's OK I have another.

Load, reload, heavy load.

I say they are Fresh,
But they bow like an inconsiderate child.

I here him say:
"Only those who try can fail."

Shakespeare must be spinning in his grave never mind turning.
What utter cr*p.
Sorry for upsetting anyone who finds this poem meaningful

I'm with you jayjay - our daughters letters make more sense!

I'm sure it has some deep profound meaning to it but I am not that clever I'm afraid. :loopy:

Lets stick to There was an old woman who swallowed a spider! Thats about my limit.

Originally posted by jayjay
Shakespeare must be spinning in his grave never mind turning.
What utter cr*p.
Sorry for upsetting anyone who finds this poem meaningful

Meaningful I dont think I could make up as much twaddle as that if I tried, but poetry, like red wine, is wasted on me

ha ha...

That's just what I thought when i read but I didn;t reply because....

a) Thought it might show my individual ignorance
(but collective ignorenace is ok!!)


b) didn't want to upset the writer if he was serious.


Is he serious???

Originally posted by LoopyLou
ha ha...

That's just what I thought when i read but I didn;t reply because....

a) Thought it might show my individual ignorance
(but collective ignorenace is ok!!)


b) didn't want to upset the writer if he was serious.


Is he serious???

same here! i didnt have a clue what it ment so i didnt reply until sum1 else had, didnt want to look a fool if the meaning was obvious! lol

what blow is he on??? :loopy:

Originally posted by x_LoUiSe_x
same here! i didnt have a clue what it ment so i didnt reply until sum1 else had, didnt want to look a fool if the meaning was obvious! lol

at the risk of being berated here i can only think of 1 reply

****SNAP**** :loopy:

Come on Tim would you like to enlighten the poor uneducated ,me included
What comment on the meaning of the under-lying metaphors do you have or do you think its crap too?
:smile:

This looks to me like the lyrics from a thrash metal song, although I don't have one in mind. It looks like that kind of style.

Transparent layer of oxygen?
does this mean transparent oxygen rather then opaque oxygen? It'd be interesting to see a block of that!

Ha ha ha ha! :hihi: I wrote it in order to mock the general rubbishness of the poetry on www.poetry.com. There is really the most unbelievable collection of bilge on there. I wrote several others too. For each poem I received a letter saying I had been entered into a prize draw and that I could be published (if I bought the commemorative bowl for $28 ). I believe sarcasm is lost on americans. Here's another seeing as the first was received so well:

Limphatic Blisks

I have no tree, falling free.
It is a wondrous plank.
Where the piece?
How, the blow mowers plow so slow.
Whenceforth my lady, I have no tree.
The tree is so plain.
Keeping the plentitude gravely.
It is a wondrous plank.
The cotton growers play like a morph.
Keeping slow, the blinkered masseees.
I have no tree.
The last of my pleas is to slow the masseees.
Repeat until tired.


They're all mad!!!! :loopy:

Tim

I just thought it was a boad of lollocks :D

>edit> the second is as big a boad of lollocks as the first :D :D

succinct reply Owdlad :thumbsup:

It was never meant to be anything else

Originally posted by tim_rutter
Ha ha ha ha! :hihi: I wrote it in order to mock the general rubbishness of the poetry on www.poetry.com. There is really the most unbelievable collection of bilge on there. I wrote several others too. For each poem I received a letter saying I had been entered into a prize draw and that I could be published (if I bought the commemorative bowl for $28 ). I believe sarcasm is lost on americans.

Fantastic ------ loving it !!

Now THIS is a poem

Yesterday morning as I was waiting for a letter in the post
I soft boiled an egg and made soldiers out of toast
I usually
Have muesli

And I reply thus…

My ears thus far
With tempered sounds
They are completely
Without joys
Like rain-soaked earth
No substance held
Upon a clouded veil
Of broken themes
Which child-like tap
Not utter truths
But utter crap.

Amen and druce!

Or to put it bluntly.....DRIVEL!!

Originally posted by tim_rutter

Testing the pages,
I feel they are warm,
Lubricated with a transparent layer of oxygen,
I try to look on, seething.

Grab my arm!
It falls away like a broken cup handle.
It's OK I have another.

Load, reload, heavy load.

I say they are Fresh,
But they bow like an inconsiderate child.

I here him say:
"Only those who try can fail."

I get it now! :thumbsup:

It's about a bloke who's trying to tear a telephone directory in half..............isn't it?

There is a God - a rubbish poetry strand! Clear a space everyone, Lord Snooty is in his element. Here's a short 'haiku' poem I made up last year. (Except it doesn't follow the rules of haiku at all. It's authentic in every other aspect, though). It's called 'The First Pie Of Winter'. Goes like this....

After many months of dieting
through a summer marred by rioting
I turned once more to pie-eating

Hey Tim, your bilge is tremendous - I congratulate you. Several years ago I had the misfortune to live near Scunthorpe. One of the few compensations of life there was the 'Poetry Corner' section of the Scunthorpe Evening Telegraph, which was filled with the most feeble minded drivel as yet conceived by man, or woman. My favourite crap poem was called 'They Flew By Night' and was penned by an old Flight Lieutenant whose name escapes me. (Respect to all our WW2 servicemen and women, incidentally). The opening line was, 'They flew by night, but mostly by day....' In other words, 'They Flew By Day' didn't they? Made me larf anyway.

There were also lots of infantile entries by one P Catt, along the lines of:

Sun sun sun!
Let's have fun!
Rain rain rain!
What a pain!
Snow snow snow!
Cold winds blow! etc etc

How could I not send in my own crap poetry under daft names? More to follow......

BoppinBruce, what a superb rhyme - 'usually'/'muesli' - I am humbled. Anyway, I bombarded Poetry Corner with dozens of crap poems, none of which were published, though that seems too grand a word. All of these gems are sadly lost to the nation, except one.......'Autumn'.......by Randalph Phipps, DSO.

It is autumn again
A brown time of year
All the leaves are falling
The trees are looking queer
All that sweeping up
It's such a waste of time
Come the winds, and more will fall
Fall at autumn time

Where do the squirrels hide?
Where do the sparrows roost?
Meanwhile, we're all warm inside
With the sunday roast
The shrub beside my window
Is now completely bare
Except for just one lickle leaf
Hanging on in there

Soon it will be Bonfire Night
Gunpowder, treason, plot
Then it will be winter
Welcome it will be - not
Soon the old folks start to grumble
As their old bones start to crumble
When the chill breeze
Penetrates my pensioner's knees
Then I won't be able to sweep
Autumn's leaves


I rest my case, your honour................

Absolutely hillarious LOL, me and my sister are crying with laughter, i love crap poetry.. especially in songs (crap artist, no talent etc etc). Currently working in scunthorpe i shall have to check out that publication!!

I love poetry corner in 'private eye' they are of coarse supposed to be a joke.. one of my personnal favorites was "Nanny in the Wind" after the louise woodward 'trial' in america, best line ever "you live your life like a nanny in the wind" I still laugh about it 8 yrs on (p.s i fully understand the circumstances of the trial were not funny).

A few weeks after I gave up sending unsolicited rubbish poems to the Scunthorpe Evening Telegraph, I went to a party and met a chap there called Ian somebody, who was the crime reporter for the very same newspaper. I told him about my attempts to infiltrate Poetry Corner and he confessed to me that HE was P.Catt, and had been sending his child-like rhymes down the print queue for months, without anyone realising they were not genuine! 'Crestfallen' hardly begins to cover how I felt.......I was a broken man.......luckily, a large plate of hash cakes was handed 'round shortly after this revelation, and my life could begin again........

Leddi - you and your sister are true connoisseurs. I'll have to check out Private Eye's Poetry Corner again, 'Nanny in the Wind' sounds fantastic. How's your piano playing going?

PS Note to all crap poetry lovers - have you heard the Hancock's Half Hour called 'The Poetry Society', a radio show from 1959, I think? It's the Holy Grail of crap poetry.

One of my favourite poems is 'Dig My Parrot's Head Up Please!'

My fave crap poet of all time must be an old man in my dad's village who started churning out bilge in his dotage - and then going on to congratulate himself in verse for his new found "talent." Hence:

"I never thought that I would be,
A geriatric prodigy"

Another sterling example of his poetry was a work -'a farmer's diet' or something where he extolled in verse the virtues of stuffing your face for health reasons.

"If you feel weak at the knees,
Cut yourself a piece of cheese"

That type of thing. Amazing.

I didnt realise bad poetry was so popular! Maybe we should set up a society? Discuss the ramblings of crud poets the world over! The Crud Poets Society

Originally posted by tim_rutter
Ha ha ha ha! :hihi: I wrote it in order to mock the general rubbishness of the poetry on www.poetry.com. There is really the most unbelievable collection of bilge on there. I wrote several others too. For each poem I received a letter saying I had been entered into a prize draw and that I could be published (if I bought the commemorative bowl for $28 ). I believe sarcasm is lost on americans. Here's another seeing as the first was received so well:

Limphatic Blisks

I have no tree, falling free.
It is a wondrous plank.
Where the piece?
How, the blow mowers plow so slow.
Whenceforth my lady, I have no tree.
The tree is so plain.
Keeping the plentitude gravely.
It is a wondrous plank.
The cotton growers play like a morph.
Keeping slow, the blinkered masseees.
I have no tree.
The last of my pleas is to slow the masseees.
Repeat until tired.


They're all mad!!!! :loopy:

Tim

....or you could just put a bunch of random words in a few sentences and submit that, that would probably win awards!

Spike Milligan - "Silly Verse, For Kids"
Best crap poem book I ever read!

You got to get a copy if you like crap poems :D

Two bites of the cherry

Vanessa, you are so much better than Tessa
Wyatt and why not
And Holly couldn't hold your brolly
And this UN Ambassador with the long first name
Will never achieve your fame
Mike was your dad, he wasn't bad
With his dusters, in The Dambusters
With his bouncing bomb
and much aplomp
and when you die we will see the acting blood you gave
at least it will then be a Redgrave

The Shortest Poem Ever Written

I

Originally posted by LordSnooty
BoppinBruce, what a superb rhyme - 'usually'/'muesli' - I am humbled. Anyway, I bombarded Poetry Corner with dozens of crap poems, none of which were published, though that seems too grand a word. All of these gems are sadly lost to the nation, except one.......'Autumn'.......by Randalph Phipps, DSO.

It is autumn again
A brown time of year
All the leaves are falling
The trees are looking queer
All that sweeping up
It's such a waste of time
Come the winds, and more will fall
Fall at autumn time

Where do the squirrels hide?
Where do the sparrows roost?
Meanwhile, we're all warm inside
With the sunday roast
The shrub beside my window
Is now completely bare
Except for just one lickle leaf
Hanging on in there

Soon it will be Bonfire Night
Gunpowder, treason, plot
Then it will be winter
Welcome it will be - not
Soon the old folks start to grumble
As their old bones start to crumble
When the chill breeze
Penetrates my pensioner's knees
Then I won't be able to sweep
Autumn's leaves


I rest my case, your honour................

More please LordSnooty, more! You have a fan club out here. Don't stop! I'm hysterical with laugher. Please give us another gem, please!

Well!

dig my parrot's head up, please,
and while you're at it,
grind some cheese,
try hard for years and even then,
you won't turn out
like 'Fingers Ken'.

or:

Very.

Happy lanterns shaking soft
Discarded books lay in a loft
Forever dancing lonely owl
In dreamless sleep, so bad: so foul.

Spanish sunset, golden warm
Peasants mingle by a farm
Endless roadway, steaming heat
Battered sandals on sockless feet.

These two poems are available for reading in my Spring Collection.

Gosh, thanks redrobbo. I'm afraid I have no more in the vaults - no, hang on, I did write a poem after meeting what much surely be the world's most boring man a few years ago. When I've finished tiling this bleeding floor I'll check out the archives. I'm sure I have the original parchment somewhere. Tiling is rubbish - if only I hadn't got drunk and sacked all my servants...

Don Kiddick - I will definately check out the Spike Milligan book, it sounds great. I heard one of his 'throwaways' on the radio recently and it was genius...Eddie Izzard was reading it, it was about a conversation between one man dying from drowning and another man dying from a disease. I can't remember who died first, but it was hilarious and extremely clever. Is it in the book, by any chance?

Originally posted by Sam Miguel

Forever dancing lonely owl


Now I know I've got a heart, because it's breaking....

Originally posted by tim_rutter
The Shortest Poem Ever Written

I

Capital 'I' - pronounced 'eye'? Oh dear, Mr Rutter, I think you'll find this is.....

The Shortest Poem Ever Written

i




As in 'igloo', of course. How about the Dead Crap Poets Society? Hope you haven't printed the t-shirts/membership packs already.

Spanish Slaughter

by

Sam Miguel

Paper, please! - my friend so small,
Your brother's grubby and he's tall,
He's signed his cheese-pot,
Smoked his wheels,
And gargled gladly with his peas,
So listen, friend to me, take note,
Don't turn this way - don't let life float,
Splice the mildew,
Quake your beak,
And thread your truffles once a week.

*I wrote this piece during a very emotional time in my life. I was feeling a bit unwell as well*

Originally posted by LordSnooty

Don Kiddick - I will definately check out the Spike Milligan book, it sounds great. I heard one of his 'throwaways' on the radio recently and it was genius...Eddie Izzard was reading it, it was about a conversation between one man dying from drowning and another man dying from a disease. I can't remember who died first, but it was hilarious and extremely clever. Is it in the book, by any chance?

The poem you refer to isn't in Silly Verse For Kids.
I used to read Spike's madcap verse to children when I worked in a kid's home. After several years, I became word perfect.
So, from memory folks.......

On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the cow's go Bong
And the monkeys all say Boo!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea-pots jibber-jabby joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go clang
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So....Its Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go Ping
Nong Ning Nang
Mice go clang
What a noisey place to belong -
Is the Ning Nang, Ning Nang Nong!

The kids loved it!

Originally posted by Sam Miguel
[B]

He's signed his cheese-pot
B]

Disgusting fellow!

Originally posted by redrobbo
On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the cow's go Bong
And the monkeys all say Boo!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea-pots jibber-jabby joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go clang
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So....Its Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go Ping
Nong Ning Nang
Mice go clang
What a noisey place to belong -
Is the Ning Nang, Ning Nang Nong!



Fantastic! I teach in a primary school - my lot will love it too....if they know what's good for them.

Glad you enjoyed Spike Milligan LordSnooty. Unfortunately, I think Silly Verse for Kids may now be out of print?

If I may indulge again......

Mary Pugh
Was nearly two
When she went out of doors;
She went out standing up, she did,
But came back on all fours.
The moral of this story,
Please meditate and pause,
Never send your baby out -
With loosely waisted drawers!

and.....

Through every nook and every cranny,
The wind blew in on poor old Granny;
Around Her knees, into each ear,
And up her nose, as well I fear.

All through the night the wind grew worse;
It nearly made the vicar curse;
The top had fallen off the steeple,
Just missing him and other people!

It blew on man, it blew on beast,
It blew on nun, it blew on priest,
It blew the wig off Aunty Fanny -
But most of all, it blew on Granny.

and...

I've never felt finer,
Said the king of China,
Sitting down to dine.
Then fell down dead, he died he did,
It was only half past nine!

I have also memorised the epic poems 'Jim - who ran away and was eaten by a lion' and 'Matilda - who told lies and came to a dreadful end' which are two of Hilaire Belloc's Cautionary Tales for Children. Kids love this kind of zany poetry. Recommended

Thanks redrobbo - I am impressed you have committed so much to memory. I am familiar with HB's Cautionary Tales, they are the best of their genre, I feel. What a daft name, though. Anyway, I am covered in cobwebs because I have been down in the basement with a torch looking for lost literary gems from the quill of Snooty and I have found this. It was penned in a rush of inspiration after I was subjected to the last big ear-bashing of my life, seven years ago. I have learned to walk away/invent an excuse/fake a heart attack since. I ran into him whilst looking for someone else, and he just went on and on (and on and on) about motorbikes, despite knowing nothing - hence the reference to the Tiger Cub, a (crap) motorbike the Triumph company made thousands of. Anyway, here is.....

Big Bore

A chance encounter
in a old school on a hill,
'Is Steve around?' I ask, and hope to find,
but never will,
the subject of my enquiry.
'Pull up a chair', he says, this other,
affable, laughable and wiry.
Rolling up a roll up, he inhales,
'I used to be a biker' (oily old Brit),
hot air, exhaled exhaustively -
I am wanting none of it.

He tells me Triumph made
three hundred Tiger Cubs.
Agape, I miss a vital chance
to interject contrarily -
he rambles then about himself,
dull sagas, unvarifiable.
Resigned, I listen warily,
his utterances bolder now: unreliable.

A short man, begrudging of my height, I sense,
he finds the power to pin me down
apt recompense.
And so, interminably, without a pause,
the bore, bores........

At length it transpires clear
that 'ums' and 'ahs' from me are not required here.
'Mr Wonderful, I love you', my thoughts do not run thus,
instead, I picture Mr Tiresome silent under omnibus.
But he's already far away, inwardly focussed, holding forth.
And as I slip away, triumphant, on all fours,
the bore, bores.........

'Load, reload, heavy load'


more like what a load...............of crap!

Oh LordSnooty, I didn't wish to put you to so much trouble on my behalf. I trust you are now dusted down, and are relaxing with a glass of something suitable soothing.

If I may be so bold, my lord, I would judge your poem, Big Bore a masterful creation. The construction is perfect, illustrating the use of internal rhyme and half-rhyme (e.g., affable-laughable; around-find). I was particularly impressed by the witty use of the word 'triumphant' in the penultimate line, echoing the 'Triumph' (motor-bike name) in the second stanza. Very clever use of language, and so evocative. The poem can be read on several planes - with a resonance of hidden sexual lust ("he finds the power to pin me down" & "Mr Wonderful, I love you"). {Totally unsuitable for Class 9 though}. You have the promise of being a great poet my lord. Indeed, if I may be so bold, I would compare you to that pre-eminent Scots poet - William McGonagall.

You're too kind.........I am a bit disturbed about the repressed homo-eroticism though, but I can see you have a point. It's too late now, my soul is bared. Oh dear, I'm at it again. And again!
Must go to bed, yes I have been soothing myself. Oh, stop it....

Originally posted by foxy027
'Load, reload, heavy load'


more like what a load...............of crap!

It was a comment on the poorness of Metallica's albums, load and reload.

More SPIKE!

Pip Pip Pippety Pip
Slid on the lino
Slippety Slip
Fell down stairs
Trippety Trip
Tore her knickers
Rippety Rip
Started to cry
Drippety Drip
Poor little Pippa
Pippety Pip.

Take Me in Your Arms
(Miss Heroin)


So now, little man, you've grown tired of grass
LSD, goofballs, cocaine and hash,
and someone, pretending to be a true friend,
said, "I'll introduce you to Miss Heroin."

Well honey, before you start fooling with me,
just let me inform you of how it will be.

For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
I've sent men much stronger than you to their graves.
You think you could never become a disgrace,
and end up addicted to Poppy seed waste.

So you'll start inhaling me one afternoon,
you'll take me into your arms very soon.
And once I've entered deep down in your veins,
The craving will nearly drive you insane.

You'll swindle your mother and just for a buck.
You'll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You'll mug and you'll steal for my narcotic charm,
and feel contentment when I'm in your arms.

The day, when you realize the monster you've grown,
you'll solemnly swear to leave me alone.
If you think you've got that mystical knack,
then sweetie, just try getting me off your back.

The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots.
The jangling nerves screaming for one more shot.
The hot chills and cold sweats, withdrawal pains,
can only be saved by my little white grains.

There's no other way, and there's no need to look,
for deep down inside you know you are hooked.
You'll desperately run to the pushers and then,
you'll welcome me back to your arms once again.

And you will return just as I foretold!
I know that you'll give me your body and soul.
You'll give up your morals, your conscience, your heart.
And you will be mine until, "Death Do Us Part"



Author Anonymous? (please read below)


Please Note: Some say that "Miss Heroin" was written by someone who overdosed shortly afterwards. Most credible sources reveal that it was written many years ago by Duncan MacLaughlin, a Scottish nobleman and detective attached to the Central Drug Squad at New Scotland Yard, England.

The official title of this poem is "Take Me In Your Arms". Several lines, including the title have been changed and added over the years, and many people have claimed authorship. - editor, wowzone.com

http://www.wowzone.com/heroin.htm

Poetry.com are comical. They published some of my stuff which wasn't exactly great.

its the people who buy the book, audio tapes etc that make me laugh

The Most Shortest Poem Ever Written

<This page left deliberately blank>


(c) Tim Rutter 2005

Lovley poem really.

OK Tim, you win. Betcha can't write the LONGEST poem ever written!

<shiver> could it possibly be 'The Eve of St Agnus' ? I ready that ruddy thing hundreds of time for coursework at school!... Imagine my dissapointment at work today m'lud when on purchasing a Scunthorpe Telegraph, it did not contain any poetry!! Is it only available in the evening????

Possibly leddi although I reckon the longest poem we've never read was Coleridge's Kubla Kahn. Thank God that person from Porlock knocked at his door just as he was getting into his stride.

argh, now I have the eve of saint agnes in my poor head.

"The owl for all his feathers was a-cold" etc etc.

Originally posted by leddi
[B Imagine my dissapointment at work today m'lud when on purchasing a Scunthorpe Telegraph, it did not contain any poetry!! Is it only available in the evening???? [/B]

Hello Leddi - do you know, I used to buy the Scunthorpe Evening Telegraph when in the full throes of my 'crap poetry' phase, and often found Poet's Corner to be empty. How my heart too, would sink. I can, therefore, imagine your present disappointment all too vividly. They may well have scrapped the idea, especially after realising one of their own was ripping the p**s out of it. Thinking back (this is about ten years ago, when I was with my darling ex-Mrs Snooty), I'm sure it used to appear every Wednesday. As for the 'Evening' bit, I think you are getting a bit fixated upon what we poets call 'eventide'; true, it is (or was) called the Scunthorpe Evening Telegraph, and although there is an early edition which appearszzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Tell you what, let's not get too hung up on whether or not the Scunzzzzzzzzzzz. No, it's no good, I can't keep awake.

Hey, why don't we see if the 'mods' will give us a Poet's Corner on the forum? I may even get my quill out and pen a few fresh verses of shallow trivial nonsense for the masses.

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Sheffette


"If you feel weak at the knees,
Cut yourself a piece of cheese"

This is sound advice for anybody. I have tried it, and it works, as long as it isn't that silly rubbish cheese with peppercorns and cranberries in it.

Nearly as bad as some of the rap lyrics I heard on galaxy today(The builders preferred choice of music).

"I'm gonna charm ya
Am I gettin warmer?
Got a villa in the Bahamas"

Or something similar.

Had to give him a lecture on proper music.

Sheffette

Hilariously enough, I used to have a Vauxhall Sheffette....

The Longest Poem Ever Written

pppppppppppppppooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeemmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Originally posted by LordSnooty
[BHey, why don't we see if the 'mods' will give us a Poet's Corner on the forum? I may even get my quill out and pen a few fresh verses of shallow trivial nonsense for the masses. [/B]

More homo-eroticism from the quill of LordSnooty? The late Thom Gunn may have a rival! Please don't wait a Poet's Corner m'lud - your fan club is waiting!

Originally posted by LordSnooty
Sheffette

Hilariously enough, I used to have a Vauxhall Sheffette....

cue old banger jokes a plenty...............

My favourite poem -

Thoughts of a tortoise on a midsmmers eve as dusk is about to fall

"The world is very flat'
I'm rather sure of that"

Originally posted by redrobbo
More homo-eroticism from the quill of LordSnooty? The late Thom Gunn may have a rival! Please don't wait a Poet's Corner m'lud - your fan club is waiting!

I'm afraid I've been very busy of late so any immediate prospects for a new work appearing are slim. However, I do recall writing a crap poem about an old chap leafing through a 'men's magazine', so I'll be down in the archive when I get a minute. The only other thing I have produced recently is a thing called, 'Psychedelic Bagpipes', which I wrote while under the influence with a friend in Manchester. Sadly, I can only remember the title and the closing line, which was....'and a world authority on pest control'. We could try a 'line for line' poem, which contributors to this strand could er, contribute to.
Ok, here goes - how's this for an opening line:

For some unaccountable reason, I put a bucket over my head

Originally posted by tim_rutter
The Longest Poem Ever Written

pppppppppppppppooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeemmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Tim, you are a genius and I salute you.

Originally posted by LordSnooty
Tim, you are a genius and I salute you.

Nice to be appreciated! :thumbsup: