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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.

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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*

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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!

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Originally posted by Sam Miguel

 

He's signed his cheese-pot

B]

 

Disgusting fellow!

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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.

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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

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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.........

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'Load, reload, heavy load'

 

 

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

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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.

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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....

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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.

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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.

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