hurrah sparrows!
Pretty sparrow on the sky,
How do you fly so fucking high?
Kinky sparrow
I see you with my eye(s)
( Count Dante In Shocking 2-D, Wed 17 Aug 2005, 0:57, Reply)

teenage poetry....
we pulling teh emos out of the woodwork.... something alone the lines of


i looked out side...
saw the day...
and cried...
(Barf, Wed 17 Aug 2005, 0:50, Reply)

Sorry, monkeys
here she comes,
walking down the street,
with her filthy big labia,
hanging by her feet.

written for a friend who revealed his girlfriend had large, puffy beef curtains.
(timewaster treemagnet, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 22:47, Reply)

just a wee observation ...
seems to me that with this qotw, the brief ones are ok but lovelorn adolsecents are long-winded, so you don't actually want to read the long ones

pardon for the length, tedious and predictable
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 22:31, Reply)

For a friend...
Julie's brain is very tiny,
Julie's brain is very small...
You can flick it with your finger
If you can find it at all.

(to the tune of "My Bonny Lies Over...")
(Armadillo, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 21:53, Reply)

Hormonallly inspired poetry
When roses are red,
they're ready for plucking;

Now xxxx is sixteen,
She's ready for fucking.

(change xxxx to the name of your heart's - or lust's - desire)
(Maclir, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 21:51, Reply)

Regarding an Incident at the West Hall Dormitory
Old Bill, he went to the shower
With a girl he meant to deflower
All would have been well
She was under his spell
But Bill couldn't rise for an hour!
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 20:55, Reply)

80s rock star lyrics
I had a cheapo guitar I never learned how to play, and can't carry a tune in a bucket. Still, I had illusions of rock stardom ala Billy Squier. My masterpiece:

The tears ain't a-fallin'
The tears ain't a-fallin'
The tears ain't a-fallin' for you.

{guitar solo}

Oh no, the tears ain't a-fallin'
The tears ain't a-fallin'
The tears ain't a-fallin' for you-oo-oo

[Repeat 2 or 3X]

Yep, I'm about as clever as a rotten turnip.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 17:29, Reply)

Sonnet to Bill Murray lookalike, written by a friend and me age 17
Bill, Dominic or whatever
you were so warm yet
it was not mine to get
I shall lust after thee forever

For I am powerless to control
the hopeless feelings
the book of life shall unroll
after our icy dealings

Yet I like thee even more
but I shall never sit beside thee
no nay never, no nay never no more
(GiantSquid, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 16:21, Reply)

Fifteen years
The air is cold outside my box
Four walls, a window, and a door
Holds me in, a celing to keep
Rain off my head, and a bed.
The dressings were my sister's
But now she's gone away
She's the one with the black flease
I'm younger than my brother
He's younger than her too
Not many people in my family
Not enough to forget my kin
I can count my friends on one hand
And my enemies on the other
I cannot remember what I am doing
I may be writing a play
But no, the characters are living
And the plot goes on and on
Like every story there is a climax
But without action, put the book down
Fifteen year old sob story
Fifteen year old girl out of place
Fifteen years behind me
Another to smack my face
(jeweloftheknight, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 15:27, Reply)

Sara's Big Night Out
Sara's Big Night Out

She eats another snickers,
Tucks the laces into her kickers,
Checks her hair and make up and she's ready to go out.

Arriving at the pub, she orders half a larger,
And settles with all her mates at the bar,
They drink and laugh and smoke and swear and fall about.

Knowing all the words to all the songs on the jukebox,
The barman eyes up her friend, they laugh and so he stops,
Going in pairs to the ladies, when music fades they still shout.

They're looking a bit tarty but these days that's just arty,
And besides; Angie's sister Marty has taught them all a little Karate,
So if some bloke gets lairy, they'll take him on & knock him out.

Tina's got a problem, she's arguing with some girl she don't know,
The girl's lad is looking bothered, he don't wanna make a show,
But the two girls are laughing & forgotten what it was all about.

Then in walks Sara's reason for being here,
At first she thinks she'll perhaps buy him a beer,
Instead she knocks back another Vodka and sorts her skirt out.

He's standing with his mates the other side of the bar,
He's wearing Adidas - makes him look groovy & the walk seem so far.
But Sara's on a mission, planing just to kiss him and ask him out.

Sara's got her TopShop look and she's gonna make a play for him,
She's read the book and she knows just what to say to him,
She checks her mates are watching, no way she'll get blown out.

Sara knows she shouldn't be so forward, it's not right,
But she also knows it's more lady-like to smoke lights,
So she sensuously and slowly blows the smoke out.

That's the way it is on,
Sara's big night out,
And she knows that boy is hers,
She just wants a man who'll look good on her arm,
A boy to walk her home at night,
A fella good for kissing,
Maybe a little missing,
A bloke she can talk about with her mates,
A bloke she can talk about,
A bloke she can shout about,
'Cos it's Sara's big night out.


10 years on and the Sara's still the same.
ChePen
(chepenguin, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 14:18, Reply)

anne frank
i sung a splendid song-poem in the pub the other day, it was a Streets inspired anthem documenting the last days of Anne Frank.

I cant remember it now, but i was left in tears of mirth at my own rapping/nazi attrocity skills
(justjuice, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 13:59, Reply)

Roses?
Roses are red
violets are twisted
when you get home
your going to get fisted.

Roses are red
violets are blue
Im on prozak
10p for ago on your tractor.....

ttaaaaddaaaaaaaaarrrrr
(cripps-zoid The rabbit buffer, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 12:36, Reply)

80's pop goddess Sinitta...
There once was a girl called Sinitta
If she sung you her songs you would beat her
She was sweaty and crap
Had a smelly old crack
and a snatch that smelt of Ryvita.

Must've been about 19 when I penned this, during my "Blue" period, but thats another story..

hope i haven't broken any lurking protocols..

chesney very much
(King Baldie, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 11:50, Reply)

mary had a little lamb...
mary had a little lamb
full of fun and frollicks
she thru it up in the air
and caught it by its... tail


mary had a little lamb
she put it in a bucket
everytime the lamb got out
the dog would try to... put it back


not mine but hey its a crap QOTW
( wierdo was bored @, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 11:45, Reply)

Woof
Little Dog
Crossing Street,
Passing Car
Sausage Meat.
(freddiestarfish, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 10:58, Reply)

ok
it's gotta be said that stusut79 deserves to win this and every other QOTW for the genius of the line "naughty naughty uncles".

i mean, WTF?

that is brilliant.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 10:41, Reply)

To the tune of puttin on the ritz
Sang repeatedly and annoyingly to one of my old school friends who always panicked to get into class on-time

Talk about a super-charger and an injection
puttin on the turbs
puttin on the turbs

look at him going to school burning up the road
puttin on the turbs
puttin on the turbs

turbs turbs turbs turbs x 1000

repeat until punched
(Axe murderer, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 10:16, Reply)

the truth is out there
Roses are red
Voilets are voilet
and never have been
blue
(Axe murderer, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 10:06, Reply)

another i forgot about

Ten thousand tonnes of cheese
Fermenting in my room
You tried to clean them up
I attacked you with a broom
( Box of Rabbits, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 9:59, Reply)

Tried to form a band...
wrote about 70 songs, most of them induced by unrequited lust (largely for the same chick) and fuelled by teenage angst, fortunately they're on another computer which currently has a shafted internet connection, or i'd be unleashing a selection here.

actually went through them the other day and managed to turn the riffs from a couple of them into nice thumping hard dance tunes. because forming a band never quite happened. oddly enough.
(squirrelysquirrel, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 4:44, Reply)

My summing up of "Remains of the day"
When the film came out in 1993, my English set had to write poems about subservience. Here was mine:

By you I am controlled
Each night and every day
Existing to fulfil your dreams
I get no time away

So sir, shall I take you coat?
Kidneys for breakfast today?
I feel that 'tis my duty to serve
Until my dying day

Yes, I did use the word "day" to rhyme with itself 3 times, and yes, I did write "your" as "you". Reading this crap effort to the class following the school swot's 40 page stanza wasn't exactly the best experience of my life, ya know :)
(knife_of_justice, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 3:50, Reply)

http://b3ta.com/newsletter/issue193/
pre teen poetry, isn't pre teen tortured poetry fun! hoooray!

INDEPENDENCE

Her skin popped
as the hot water devoured her.
She closed her eyes
and breathed in air
heated by her fourty watt vanity mirror
within eleven minutes
she could be asleep;
her mom wouldn't knock for at least
thirty.

She wondered if she
would float,
recalling first swimming lessins
when she stretched her arms
to be leveled with her
shoulders, and float along
the chlorine.

She wondered if her
skin would turn blue
like the commercial
where the boy holds his breath
untill his sister hands over
the all-natural ice cream.

She wondered if the water
would still be warm enough
to boil her brain
when it entered her ears.

The ring around
the tub reminded
her of sitting in
a measuring cup full of
broken egg yolks
about to be beaten into a cake,

the cake with white frosting
that she always licked once
before scraping it on to the plate.

If within 11 minutes she
rolled onto her side
would she taste
that cake
and allow it's sponge
to absorb the salt from
the sore she nervously chewed.
would that sore
heal if her skin
turned blue?

She kept her eyes closed
and lied relaxed
while the heat turned to warm,
and the tub water fogged.

Her mom knocked, "hey."
she said outside the door.

She remained still but felt her tear
ducts bulge
and her blood crash outside her veins.

"Hey!" her mom knocked quicker
and she snapped open her eyes
and with a full voice answered,
"yeah?"
she sat up and said,
"what?"
"Oh, just checking."

She smiled
and thought of the bathroom air
as the same she breathed
in west virginia
near a river.

Something in her sinuses opened
and allowed breaths to
equally distribute thoughout her.

her mom was helpless next to
her strength.


The end. Don't turn it in, you will be lectured about pre teen suidcide. Hooray!
(Willa'sname, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 2:22, Reply)

What can I say
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I have tourettes
Shit cunt bollox!
(i_walk_bing_crosbys_dog, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 1:57, Reply)

An Ode to Jake Gyllenhaal (wrote a couple of years ago now)
Oh Mr G you're so incredibly hot,
If you kissed me I think I would like it a lot.
I know you don't know me and I seem like a freak,
But I've been stealing your underwear for over a week.

It was like a dream we met in the street,
That's when I notice you had quite big feet!
You said "I'll make you a meal, I'm quite a good cook,"
And I said "Forget the meal I just want to . . .

Look - all the time at your beautiful face,
If you took your clothes off I'd also think it was ace."
So you took off your clothes and I couldn't help but stare,
But that was because you wore a bra under there.

And I thought to myself, "He wears a bra does he?
Oh well - I've been single for ages and I'm not that fussy."
You took off your bra, then we just talked for ages,
And you wisked me to the zoo to see monkeys in cages?!

I still couldn't stop staring- I thought it was a dream,
But you slapped me with a walrus and then bought me ice-cream.
The Ice cream cone was mouldy, but I didn't mind,
I thought 'Jake's brought it me and he's such a cute find.'

I knew it was wrong - and not the best place,
But I felt like smearing the ice-cream all over your face.
We were having fun and laughing till it got in my eye,
Then I fell to the floor and started to cry.

I couldn't see properly, I felt like a bender,
I looked up, to my horror, my Jake was Pat from Eastenders!
I couldn't believe it - what to do - the situation was dire,
I heard your voice, turned around, you were kissing that bloke from the Shire!

You broke my heart, and my tears came down in streams,
'Bloody hell!' I thought, 'Can't just this bit be a dream?'
Then I realised it was Frodo and my heart broke in two,
Because my dear Elijah, I'm in love with you too!

I can only take half the credit as I wrote it with a friend . . . we were bored.
( Fluffy elephants, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 1:22, Reply)

This isn't my poem, but it is my favourite:
Ode to a goldfish
O
Wet
Pet!

(credit goes to Gyles Brandreth)
(Fido Dido, Tue 16 Aug 2005, 0:14, Reply)

Recently discovered this:
Single Rose

Thou art like unto spring's a Jew,
Everything I do, I do it for you,
Total eclipse of the,
I'm not a gypsy Bovril,
This is my rose, my heart.

Like a virgin, hey, for the very first time
Touchéd umlaut, wherefore... why?
A single rose,
Upon my toes,
A fairy nose,
Potatoes,
Mos...
es.

SPLASH! AAH-AAH! Oh yes?
In my slumber, sleepy slut,
I wander to the Pizza Hut,
Where I partake of a fine cut
Of my wrists, suicide of my mind
I hate my life, apart from keyboards
If they're worth the budget of a Jihaord.
And shortbread, yum
Myself am scum.

A Single Rows of a cinema,
I'm not coming to dinner, ma.
( Pretender, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 23:18, Reply)

Spring...
Smell the fresh spring air,
but I cannot enjoy it,
I have hayfever

My first ever haiku. It took ages for me to grasp the concept, I thought the teacher kept telling us '5 syllables in the first lion'...

Li-o-oo-ooo-on?
( Curis, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 22:01, Reply)

Playground Poetry
Mummy I'm unhappy
There's something in my nappy
It's big and brown
and i can't sit down
if i do i'll squash it
and then you'll have to wash it
and that's no joke...
the washer's broke

First post...Huzzah
(Dav, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 21:59, Reply)

I wanted to be the next Doctor Seuss.
Jesus god, this is awful. I had hoped I had thrown it away. Contains the occasional eight grade in-joke. I've cut for length/sheer unadulterated hell.

----

I have an anti-social fish
His name is Ford
He's on a dish
Oh would that I would have one wish
To eat this fish
Upon a dish
Singing 'long with Hare Krish
With a dog upon a lish
Maybe with one little knish
And a troll, all blabberish
Speaking jibber-jabberish
OR
Maybe I could say SWBAT
on a mat
with a cat
and a rat
and a bat
in a hat
Think of that!
To say SWBAT
to a democrat
with a frat.
Flex a lat
Upon a mat
with an anti-social fish
upon a dish
with a knish.

------

It goes on for about five pages like this.

*dies and is ded*
(GirnsieBabes- Ring baloney once! Ring baloney twice! Hey-ya, Kutztown sure is nice!, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 20:58, Reply)