Wednesday, 29 July 2009

The Daily Fail!

It must be nice to live in the Daily Fail world,
everything so simple, clean cut, straight forward.
The poor, the lowly scum that they have to tread over in streets awash with wrappers from Tesco value treats.
Living of the thousands of pounds the government so gladly give.
Wasted on the horses, cheap vodka and children dressed from clothes brought from the bargain bin.
”Poor little savages”, “Sad little sods”, “good for nothing parents to lazy to get a job!”
No nothing is quite as simple, nothing is quite as good, No nothing is as wonderful as a daily fail snob.

Simon Rudd ( hons) 

Summer Holidays

Such a stupid idea,
utter madness,
morons must have decided,
months before the event!
eventually it all falls flat,
rotting in a pit.

Helpless long drawn days,
orgasmic pain and grief,
longing for a release,
in special cells we sleep,
dirty and smell clothes,
aromatic smells of feet,
years more to go,
someone help me please!

Thursday, 16 July 2009

small cuts

small cuts in my flesh,
strands of skin and ghoulish mess,
held together by strings of meat,
listening to hearts last beat.

Saturday, 6 June 2009

Sitting in a park

Sitting in a park,
waiting for the kids,
watching lots of people, 
playing tag and it,
hard wooden benches prized more than gold,
little islands of sanity in a mad child world.

Death defying drops from 7 foot in the air,
soft wooden chips scattered here and there,
crowded and noisy it's suddenly goes calm,
when the man shouts that closing time has come,
locked up and quite all the kids are gone,
no more people till next time when they play in the sun.  

I had Chinese food for tea tonight

I had Chinese food for tea tonight,
not the kind you get from a nice hot shop,
but the kind you get from a packet,
fried in a wok,
hot prawn previously frozen,
not fresh from the sea,
freeze dried pineapple and syrup like honey,
garlic powder for marinade,
sweet and sour sauce full of E numbers,
not home made.
sticky noodles that cling together,
and loose all heat as well as flavour. 
no flavoured rice or cashew nuts,
no if or and's and no buts.
washed down with a nice cool drink,
tap water made cold by running it down the sink.

Thursday, 4 December 2008

From No Where

By Earl Otterby

They come to stab you in the heart
They come for you after dark
Moving silently in the shadows
Silently they move up the stairs
Across the hall
To the room where in
Lies the heir
Unsheaving the cold steel
And moving silently to the bairn
They plunge the cold glistening steel
Into the young heir heart
No noise was made
Or blood spilt
They move silently into the night
Back to where they came

Thursday, 7 August 2008

The hell farm.

By Early otterby

The barn of hell
Contains a shed load of bells
That ding and dong
All night long
The ghost sheep
Of Meep
Sit about and bleat
And scare the other sheep
Cow are yowling
Because the wolves are howling
There milk will go bad
Which will make the
Devil sad
This is the farm of hell
With its barn of bells
Its cows that yowl
And its ghost sheep of Meep