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The words are all mine, most of the pictures are not. Some of the words are not mine either.

Monday, 19 September 2011

Two Little Stories Using Words That Sound The Same.

"I am a poet, Hear me RHYME!!"

Back in the dim and past known to many as the turn of the century I went through a few months of sleepless nights, followed by the never ending boredom of being awake. 

Why the flipping heck am I telling you this now, you may well ask.

The answer is because I have recently discovered a few notebooks that I filled in with stupid and daft poems and mini essays that kept me entertained during those long dark nights.

And so with my decrepit mind currently unable to think of anything new to write about plus the fact that it’s been the best part of a week since I bothered to write anything for this blog, I thought I would share some of the more choice pieces of work (in no particular order) I created when my mind was in a state that doctors would now describe as fucked up.

It has been an interesting journey to re-read these little idiotic lines and realise now that i was (and probably still am) not totally sane.

There was no logic to these poems. no reason for writting them. Thinking back, I can remeber writting some of them and laughing like a mad man. Other I have no recolection of writting but still laughed just the same at the complete and utter chaos my life must have been in at the time for me to end up putting pen to paper.

My only hope with these is that they are spotted by a mega famous singer who wants to make a concept album from them, thus allowing me to make millions of pounds by doing bugger all...
... I dont think that is too much to ask in the modern age of technology and internets and X-factor style-instant-fame-and-glory-reality-shows is it?

"It's a no from me."

Simon Cowell, I await your phone call.....

I will allow you to endure more of my awful attempts at prose at some future point (dont want to spoil you with everything all at once), but for now please feel free to allow your eyeballs to gaze upon what can only be described as piss poor poetry.


Number 1:
My cat gave birth to a litter of kittens
They were small and fluffy like fingerless mittens
I tried to sell them for fifteen pound
But nobody wanted them
So I had them put down.

I read in the Metro last Tuesday week
Of a man who had two sets of teeth.
One set in his mouth
And one set up his bum
Tucked away and just out of reach.

It told of the growth he had in his anus
And the pain of flossing on a twice daily basis.

And I was shocked at the news that his dentist was willing,
To fill his Bum teeth with a new gold capped filling.

Thank you for reading.

1 comment:

How did this get here?