Quizzes & Puzzles2 mins ago
National Poetry Day
82 Answers
Just heard its National Poetry Day today.................
How about a poem from our own "King of the AB Odes!" (try saying that fast!)
;)
How about a poem from our own "King of the AB Odes!" (try saying that fast!)
;)
Answers
My Old Man lives on the sofa.
That's where he wants to be.
He likes to sit there night and day
and watch what's on TV.
He surfs the channels constantly
by playing "his" remote,
then watches what he wants to watch;
I never get a vote.
He's fond of films with nubilemodels
He takes in sporting shows.
Whenever Simpson cartoons come on
he...
That's where he wants to be.
He likes to sit there night and day
and watch what's on TV.
He surfs the channels constantly
by playing "his" remote,
then watches what he wants to watch;
I never get a vote.
He's fond of films with nubilemodels
He takes in sporting shows.
Whenever Simpson cartoons come on
he...
22:51 Thu 04th Oct 2012
Just seen than on Breakfast...our own very funny Barnsley poet,Ian McMillan was on....not romantic stuff but a great laugh.
Do any of you write poetry and turn to your OH with a bit of soppy verse?
Each rock and each tree,
Each cloud and each bee,
The earth and the sea,
All remind me...of thee
What would he/she say if you did?
Mrs comm would have a reply....not sure I could print it here He he!
Do any of you write poetry and turn to your OH with a bit of soppy verse?
Each rock and each tree,
Each cloud and each bee,
The earth and the sea,
All remind me...of thee
What would he/she say if you did?
Mrs comm would have a reply....not sure I could print it here He he!
The wind blew strong
he showed the pain
Of eating Chilli beans
Again
Those around him quaked and shook
And stood on shaking legs
When he said through gritted teeth
I also had pickled eggs
The sulphur cloud caused acid rain
It stripped the trees of green
He left a cloud of noisome fog
Everywhere he'd been
He waved goodbye to his old friends
As they pelted him with rocks
he bore the melted wreckage
Of his precious new X box
He couldn't use his laptop
It had burned to plastic dust
He couldn't use his I phone
As even that was bust
But bad things pass
Like rectal gas
And earthly things
Can be replaced
But none will forget too easily
The gas from (insert appropriate AB user name)'s @r5e
he showed the pain
Of eating Chilli beans
Again
Those around him quaked and shook
And stood on shaking legs
When he said through gritted teeth
I also had pickled eggs
The sulphur cloud caused acid rain
It stripped the trees of green
He left a cloud of noisome fog
Everywhere he'd been
He waved goodbye to his old friends
As they pelted him with rocks
he bore the melted wreckage
Of his precious new X box
He couldn't use his laptop
It had burned to plastic dust
He couldn't use his I phone
As even that was bust
But bad things pass
Like rectal gas
And earthly things
Can be replaced
But none will forget too easily
The gas from (insert appropriate AB user name)'s @r5e
After lunch Ann, I was aware of this, heard it on Radio 4 this morning.
See Rowan has been penning away.
Sandy, there is a fetish expression for the interest you mention - at Oxford Uni and in their encyclopaedic dictionary....."Nerd (not the US version for an IT geek) - some one who has an interest in ladies's saddles."
See Rowan has been penning away.
Sandy, there is a fetish expression for the interest you mention - at Oxford Uni and in their encyclopaedic dictionary....."Nerd (not the US version for an IT geek) - some one who has an interest in ladies's saddles."
My verse, a portal to AB immortality
Our legacies and thoughts recorded to AB mankind
Pages written on an input box, not in a book
Leaving our memories in the e-sand
Read by great AB minds and we simple folk
Untouched by suspension, time and man
My verse an expression of various thoughts
Written in prose, haku and verse
That snares my mind, maybe yours too, and our souls
Demonstrating our very best
A display of structured words
From now to AB eternity
Poetry can open ABers' windows
To fuel our imagination
Fairytales, Mrs O stories and dreams
Love, war, passion, sometimes hate
God and aetheism, even spirituality
Our AB ails, food and drink, sometimes our woes
My verse, hopefully a morsel of AB in motion
Where our memories become alive
Mental maps of things that were
Things that will be
Ever in electronic continuation
In AB threads of poetry
Our legacies and thoughts recorded to AB mankind
Pages written on an input box, not in a book
Leaving our memories in the e-sand
Read by great AB minds and we simple folk
Untouched by suspension, time and man
My verse an expression of various thoughts
Written in prose, haku and verse
That snares my mind, maybe yours too, and our souls
Demonstrating our very best
A display of structured words
From now to AB eternity
Poetry can open ABers' windows
To fuel our imagination
Fairytales, Mrs O stories and dreams
Love, war, passion, sometimes hate
God and aetheism, even spirituality
Our AB ails, food and drink, sometimes our woes
My verse, hopefully a morsel of AB in motion
Where our memories become alive
Mental maps of things that were
Things that will be
Ever in electronic continuation
In AB threads of poetry
National Poetry of Madness
Save me from madness I plead, Ab Editor.
No, I do not prefer Sqad's doctor bag,
I prefer to NoM and Redman drink and Prudie toil.
And not as if I praise my head,
And not as if I were not glad
To part with my mind at all.
If I were left alone and AB free,
Oh, how quickly then I would JJ flee
To the pub, Mrs Overall smoke-thick and light-dim!
I would sing songs in flaming Rae fits
And lose myself in alcoholic fumes and murraymints bits
Of Voddy cakes, Eccles buns, mixed and lovely dreams.
And I would listen to the Sloopy sea,
And, full of Ann smiling happiness, would see
naomi's heavens' empty goodlife flesh;
And then I would be strong and free
Like a sibton whirl that could dig up a nungate lea
And leave a forest gness smashed.
Alas! The man whose mind is lost,
Would be as awful as a venator curse,
And very soon be locked,
They'd put me with tony's goats in chains in rage,
And, as a wild beast, through the AB cage
ABers would tease and mock.
And in the Mamya night I would attend
Not to the night song clarinet,
And hum of woods and wye-dyed plains
But to the cries of my AB inmates,
And oaths of Editors-rats,
Sports AB, suspension, the squeak and ring of chains.
Save me from madness I plead, Ab Editor.
No, I do not prefer Sqad's doctor bag,
I prefer to NoM and Redman drink and Prudie toil.
And not as if I praise my head,
And not as if I were not glad
To part with my mind at all.
If I were left alone and AB free,
Oh, how quickly then I would JJ flee
To the pub, Mrs Overall smoke-thick and light-dim!
I would sing songs in flaming Rae fits
And lose myself in alcoholic fumes and murraymints bits
Of Voddy cakes, Eccles buns, mixed and lovely dreams.
And I would listen to the Sloopy sea,
And, full of Ann smiling happiness, would see
naomi's heavens' empty goodlife flesh;
And then I would be strong and free
Like a sibton whirl that could dig up a nungate lea
And leave a forest gness smashed.
Alas! The man whose mind is lost,
Would be as awful as a venator curse,
And very soon be locked,
They'd put me with tony's goats in chains in rage,
And, as a wild beast, through the AB cage
ABers would tease and mock.
And in the Mamya night I would attend
Not to the night song clarinet,
And hum of woods and wye-dyed plains
But to the cries of my AB inmates,
And oaths of Editors-rats,
Sports AB, suspension, the squeak and ring of chains.
I'm sure I left them over there..
I thought I saw them here
I've looked in every cupboard ...twice
My memory is so clear
I know I had it yesterday
I am sure I put it down
Where I'd find it once again
This really makes me frown
Theres two things I have misplaced
I'm trying hard to find
Have you seen them
I'm going nuts
My marbles and my mind
I thought I saw them here
I've looked in every cupboard ...twice
My memory is so clear
I know I had it yesterday
I am sure I put it down
Where I'd find it once again
This really makes me frown
Theres two things I have misplaced
I'm trying hard to find
Have you seen them
I'm going nuts
My marbles and my mind
Nation Poetry Day - Our AB women
Here's to the AB ladies who laugh and who giggle
Here's to the AB ladies who romp;
Here's to Ann's swish and sloopy wiggle
Here's to Boo who can stomp.
Here's to Gness and sibton who make life and so much trouble;
Here's to Barmaid, Mamya, chapta, stalwarts three
Here's to naomi, prudie and boxtop, their musings on the treble
Here's to sloopy on her foaming Sea.
Here to TTFN and Murraymints in their suppression
Sending Moonie and tony towards their depression
Here to Lady A of the Castle and Mrs Jeza
What's happened to good old "Big Lezza"
Here's to pixie, petal and Jack the Hat
Here's to annemollie, bensmum, Dee Sa, Meg and Kat
and not forgetting Chrissa and Sherrard,
How many children now? Answers on Ed's card.
Here's to Grasscarp, AYG and erin
Always after seadogg's (smoked) herrin'
Here's to Mcfluffy, daffy and smowball,
With that trio, guaranteed a merry brawl.
Then the ones who can never shut up;
Here's to JoggerJayne, QoM and Tinks who crave fun
Towie and Den, the two anons, and NoM who craves bubbles;
Here's to carandog, em and those with jubbles.
Here's to Voddy and Eccles, their cakes afar
Here's to Mrs O's stories bizarre
Here's to Lottie and Dottie, poetry in motion for Rowan
Here's to Alba and Wendilla who set our day a-goin'
Here's to The ones with big mouths, boobs or butts
(no names there - I'm not daft or such a mutt).
Raise, Ummmm, a Carakeel glass to our smart girls and wise dames,
To the dolls who inspired we men, us all,
Our women who broke rules and changed games,
And for Lady J, risen up from her fall.
Here's to every Lady of you, one and all
The Bard may be not one to open his purse
But it's a day to celebrate AB women in verse.
Here's to the AB ladies who laugh and who giggle
Here's to the AB ladies who romp;
Here's to Ann's swish and sloopy wiggle
Here's to Boo who can stomp.
Here's to Gness and sibton who make life and so much trouble;
Here's to Barmaid, Mamya, chapta, stalwarts three
Here's to naomi, prudie and boxtop, their musings on the treble
Here's to sloopy on her foaming Sea.
Here to TTFN and Murraymints in their suppression
Sending Moonie and tony towards their depression
Here to Lady A of the Castle and Mrs Jeza
What's happened to good old "Big Lezza"
Here's to pixie, petal and Jack the Hat
Here's to annemollie, bensmum, Dee Sa, Meg and Kat
and not forgetting Chrissa and Sherrard,
How many children now? Answers on Ed's card.
Here's to Grasscarp, AYG and erin
Always after seadogg's (smoked) herrin'
Here's to Mcfluffy, daffy and smowball,
With that trio, guaranteed a merry brawl.
Then the ones who can never shut up;
Here's to JoggerJayne, QoM and Tinks who crave fun
Towie and Den, the two anons, and NoM who craves bubbles;
Here's to carandog, em and those with jubbles.
Here's to Voddy and Eccles, their cakes afar
Here's to Mrs O's stories bizarre
Here's to Lottie and Dottie, poetry in motion for Rowan
Here's to Alba and Wendilla who set our day a-goin'
Here's to The ones with big mouths, boobs or butts
(no names there - I'm not daft or such a mutt).
Raise, Ummmm, a Carakeel glass to our smart girls and wise dames,
To the dolls who inspired we men, us all,
Our women who broke rules and changed games,
And for Lady J, risen up from her fall.
Here's to every Lady of you, one and all
The Bard may be not one to open his purse
But it's a day to celebrate AB women in verse.
