Folly Ollie
No Sparklers
Nil fireworks from that display
Not even tepid Catherine wheel!
For spinning Jenny dozed away
After Champagne with costly meal.
Been said this girl was dynamite
But as I stripped and dimmed the light
Her snores extinguished my desire
And so she'd pissed on my bonfire
Fergie Time
For 26 years I had this lurgy
Scouse victims knew it as Fergie
From Govan via Aberdeen
Spread south to ‘Theatre of Dreams’
Cajoled depression, nausea,
Anger, pain, high blood pressure,
Caused vomiting and incensed rage
Unwelcome pest stole centre stage
Nightmares, cold sweats in dead of night
With Ferg it was a constant fight
A virus cruelly undeserved
That life sentence which I have served
Football Fantasies (Team Names)
From ‘50 Shades of John O Shea’
Via ‘Zinedine Kilbane’
‘Chamakh my Bitch’ and ‘Hajduk Spliff’
‘Eto’o and the Bunnyman’
‘The Juan that Mata’s’ and ‘Moves like Agger’
‘Fan the Fart’, ‘Why Always Me?’
‘Jason Lee’s my Florist’ ‘Notinmymum’s Forest’
‘Ledley King’s Bionic Knee’
‘Your Mum’s Athletic, ‘Athletic Pathetic’
And ‘FC Super Frank’
‘Substandard Liege’, ‘Yaya Toure’s wage’
‘Off for a Hasselwaink’
‘Sex and Drugs and Graham Poll’
‘Ninja Skrtels’, ‘Redknapp’s Bung’
With ‘Bayern Bru’, ‘Not a Kalou’
‘Nice to Michu’, 'Park Ji’s Hung!!!’
Flu Mare
Just blown my conk, but more flows down,
No boggers left, use dressing gown
Salt waterfall is endless stream,
Throat, ears and head prove fickle team
Just can’t leave bed, mere thought is like
The Tour De France on punctured bike
My thoughts are warped and dreams so sick
Cyclopped girlfriend attacks with brick
And as I lay drifting away
Eroded brain’s in disarray
For two plus two now equals five
Convinced that Rod Hull’s still alive
And Tony Knowles was first on moon
While Douglas only liked to spoon
Now Karlovic rides Shergar well
Jim Davidson’s funny as hell
Jim Davidson’s funny as hell???
Brain’s gone too far, myth I dispell
For even though my head’s in spin
That burk could never make me grin
'Shaun William Wordsworth'
I wondered lonely in a club,
While others tripped o’er thrills and spills
When all at once under a tub
I saw a host of ecky pills
Beside the bogs, just left of bar
Each shimmering pearl, white as a star
Continuous as a dark bassline
Or nights that follow days
They filled the floor with glowing shine
Emitting their warm rays
Five hundred saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads to dirty trance
Some skirts besides them danced, but they
Outdid the shortest skirts in glee
Your poet had them all away
And from the scene managed to flee
I treble-dropped without a thought
Then sold a load, new car I bought
For oft when on the couch I lie
Hungover or in vulgar mood
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude
For then I get a glass and fill And see off one more ecky pill
POFthetic
The day I signed to P.O.F, a part of my soul died,
When I saw who’d messaged me, I broke down and I cried
Then blondes, brunettes, and ginger-nuts came pouting into view,
But photos at least five years old, oh how they mislead you
Had first and last the other day and while she had same face,
The bar was thin, her arse was wide, just wasn’t enough space!
We talked a while, the usual bile and then we had some scran,
She ate for two, her arse it grew…could not fit in my van
And so I blow the whistle on this short not sweet career,
The online game is proper lame, from clutches I will steer
Good luck my friends, safe fucks my friends, may laptops bring you cheer,
Now I must pray, I’ll keep at bay those nightmares of her rear
Grand Prix Sex
"At times" she moans "it's like Grand Prix!
Gears 2 and 3 I rarely see
It's 1 to 4, so soon to 5
A high-octane, knee trembling drive
Before the race you must check oil,
Lubricate the gears or else you'll spoil
The bodywork, smoothness of ride,
Performance level, and more beside....
It's slow and steady wins the race
Tortoise beats hare, and in your case,
The hare's a cheetah hunting stag
And champagne's popped pre-chequered flag"
Ironing Bored
Oh crumpled hills are an evil curse
Though cleaning is hell, you’re ten-fold worse,
Oh mounds of creased wool’s a spiteful verse
As iron gets hot my life gets worse
Twelve crinkled pants all eyeball me,
From this ugly scene, I wish to flee
Those wrinkled jeans smirk insanely,
This iron in hand’s no weapon for me.
I heard the T-shirts goad and jeer
‘He’s so inept’ one evilly sneers,
Now Y-fronts burn and confirm my fears,
The worn hanky holds a lifetimes tears
'Jack and Ian'
A beautiful Asian nightclub queen's
Gargantuan bulge had not been seen
By Jack as they left arm-in-arm
Deep husky voice caused no alarm
In boudoir, lips entwined as one
Between the sheets a lifetime's fun
Then came the morn and out from thong
Flopped Ian's 8-inch secret schlong
'SOCK ROCK'
Midst teenage years, one friend stayed true
Through sticky times a friendship grew
Neath bunk bed solace found in you
A bond secured with homemade glue
This pal was seldom far away
When he came round I loved to play
For fleeting visits he would stay
Once popped round 5 times in one day!
My silent, punctual, ‘Countdown’ mate
Would often find me in a state
In the numbers round I’d take the bait
By conundrum vision wasn’t great
Sad at the end you looked forlorn
Our friendships toll had aged and worn
Your colour changed from white to fawn
Soft gentle ways now sadly gone
That mournful day in late July
I binned you after one last cry
A rigid, steely last goodbye
Wondered if my tears would ever dry
'(C)ANAL STREET'
A routine walk, turned to despair
From Oxford Road to St Anne’s Square
Wrong short-cut saw my mood deplete
Up the tight passage onto Canal Street
Was before midday, yet place reeked sleaze
Toilet trading’s, poppers, STD’s
Black cab cruised past, but I had no brass
Was a total fucking pain in ass!
My Limerick
An incontinent gent from West Ealing,
Used to wake in the night with damp feeling
He took a Blue pill
Gave carer a thrill
Now he's dry but his ceiling is peeling
