cynical poems

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  • ********

    i am in that mood again.

    please post.

    private message for MX,

    cock.

    ********
  • ********
    0

    for instance:

    http://www.pmms.cam.ac.uk/~gjm11…

    it's brilliant. altho i have never been to Slough, i can get a pretty picture of it. also thx to the office, but still...

  • ********
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    this part is the best:

    ----------------------

    Come, bombs, and blow to smithereens
    Those air-conditioned, bright canteens,
    Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans
    Tinned minds, tinned breath.

    -------------------

    +1 betjeman

  • laurus0

    it's funny, i was really touched by this poem, too, watching the office. btw, cruel as it may seem--it's a very sensitive series.

    here's another sensitive one by john lennon:

    Our Dad

    It wasn't long before old dad
    Was cumbersome - a drag.
    He seemed to get the message and
    Began to pack his bag.

    'You don't want me around,' he said,
    'I'm old and crippled too.'
    We didn't have the heart to say
    'You're bloody right it's true.'

    He really took an age and more
    To pack his tatty kleid
    We started coughing by the door,
    To hurry him outside.

    'I', no use to man nor beast,'
    He said, his eye all wet.
    'That's why we're getting rid of you,
    Yer stupid bastard, get.'

    His wrinkled face turned up to us
    A pleading in his look;
    we gave him half-a-crown apiece
    And polished up his hook.

    'Its not that we don't like you dad.'
    Our eyes were downcast down.
    'We've tried to make a go of it
    Yer shrivelled little clown!'

    At last he finished packing all,
    His iron hand as well.
    He even packed the penis
    What he'd won at bagatell.

    ''Spect you'll write a line or two?'
    He whined - who could resist?
    We held his face beneath the light
    And wrote a shopping list.

    'Goodbye my sons and fare thee well,
    I blame yer not yer see,
    It's all yer mothers doing lads,
    She's had it in for me.'

    'You leave our mother out of this!'
    We screamed all fury rage,
    'At least she's working for her keep
    And nearly twice your age!'

    'I'd sooner starve than be a whore!'
    The old man said, all hurt.
    'Immoral earnings aren't for me,
    and living off her dirt.'

    'She washes everyday,' we said
    Together, all at once.
    'It's more than can be said for you
    Yer dirty little ponce!'

    At last upon the doorstep front
    He turned and with a wave
    He wished us all 'Good Heavens'
    And hoped we'd all behave.

    'The best of luck to you old dad!'
    We said with slight remorse,
    'You'll dig it in the workhouse man.
    (He wouldn't though of course.)

    'Ah well he's gone and thats a fact,'
    We muttered after lunch,
    And hurried to the room in which
    He used to wash his hunch.

    'Well here's a blessing in disguise;
    Not only money too;
    He's left his pension book as well
    The slimy little jew!'

    'What luck we'll have a party
    Inviting all our friend.
    We've only one but she's a laugh
    She lets us all attend.'

    We never heard from dad again
    I 'spect we never shall
    But he'll remain in all our hearts
    - a buddy friend and pal.

  • jaylarson0

    OK. But it is long.

  • ********
    0

    haha, good one laurus.

    did john lennon really write that? never knew he wrote shit like this.

  • ********
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    poem by crouwel:
    please post.
    private message for MX,
    cock.

  • ********
    0

    haha!

    +1 Rand.