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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 4)
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Bobbysmom
04-11-2016
Originally Posted by mr. mustard:
“Ta BB and Ruth My computer wizard brought down the final print-out recently (there's been about four in all). I'm now doing a forensic proof-read, looking for any more mistakes or last small improvements I can make.”


YAYYYYY ...... NOW I'm getting excited
belly button
04-11-2016
Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“I was SO tempted to go a lot further ... but decided discretion was called for ... sadly ”

Analogy is the way to go .... as long as it's subtle and not about carrots. Best not get banned in your prime
Bobbysmom
04-11-2016
Originally Posted by belly button:
“Analogy is the way to go .... as long as it's subtle and not about carrots. Best not get banned in your prime ”

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ...... I'm going to give that some thought ...... brace yourself
Bobbysmom
04-11-2016
EMPTY STATION


Imagine a little railway station,
once frequented by many,
now abandoned and desolate.
Passengers? There aren't any!
She was once so beautiful,
In the morning light she shone.
Bedecked with pretty flowers.
Sadly, they've all gone.
And down the line a little way
an empty tunnel stands.
Dark and cold and damp,
where only litter blows and lands.

Then one day, out of the blue
came a rumble on the track!
And far down the line, from nowhere
It seemed one train came back.
The powerful engine moved nearer
and made the station shake.
Thundering toward her
leaving hot steam in it's wake.
Does a building feel things?
Well this little station might!
A wave of excitement moved
across the entire site!

At first it seemed to go slowly
This magnificent and mighty beast.
But very soon it picked up speed
was not tardy in the least!
The little station knew,
what was about to come.
Anticipation can be very sweet
having waited for so very long.
The shaking turned to shudders
Electric filled the air
And a mighty wave of power
when the train bore down on her.

The sounds that were created
were much like cries of joy
as the train reached her
and filled the empty void.
She shook and rocked and groaned
with the power of the train
and just for those few moments
she came alive again.
And now the best was yet to come
For the tunnel down the track
was the next mark of the train.
There was no going back.

The tunnel's mouth was open
welcoming the train
Begging him to enter
and let her feel again.
And he did not disappoint
Firm and sure and true
the train powered in perfectly
Custom built to get through.
Violent tremors swept
across the tunnel's walls.
Deep low rumbles sounded
Like lions mating calls.

Later on that day
The station was once again
Empty and devoid of life
But somehow, she wasn't the same.
There seemed to be an air
about her, not seen in a while.
And though I can't be certain
I'm SURE that station smiled.
belly button
04-11-2016
Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“EMPTY STATION



Then one day, out of the blue
came a rumble on the track!
And far down the line, from nowhere
It seemed one train came back.
The powerful engine moved nearer
and made the station shake.
Thundering toward her
leaving hot steam in it's wake.
Does a building feel things?
Well this little station might!
A wave of excitement moved
across the entire site!

.”

That's the spirit !

Poor Musty will have a seizure in the library when he reads that in the morning !

http://img02.deviantart.net/ad0e/i/2...at-d8zkods.png
Keyser_Soze1
05-11-2016
Originally Posted by belly button:
“That's the spirit !

Poor Musty will have a seizure in the library when he reads that in the morning !

http://img02.deviantart.net/ad0e/i/2...at-d8zkods.png”

Thomas the Wank Engine?
mr. mustard
05-11-2016
Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“The tunnel's mouth was open
welcoming the train
Begging him to enter
and let her feel again.”



Good grief, that certainly wasn't the 5:15 at Waterloo

A steam train of a poem Ruth, so well written and it shows how powerful metaphors can be. I've come over all unnecessary
mr. mustard
05-11-2016
Originally Posted by belly button:
“Poor Musty will have a seizure in the library when he reads that in the morning ! ”

I had something BB Great picture by the way

Originally Posted by Keyser_Soze1:
“Thomas the Wank Engine?”

mr. mustard
05-11-2016
Carry On Kenneth

Raucous cackled leering Sid,
The pay was rather paltry,
Fond of Hattie; God forbid
The thought of Charlie Hawtrey.
Acting in the films that grate
As minor stars grow bigger,
Criticise the world and hate
Your worthless face and figure.

Mangelwurzel round the Horne,
At one more dreary soiree
Dish the insults and the scorn
Employing gay Palare;
Comb your riah, gaze at boys
And when you feel frustration
Have the 'Barclays', sexual joys
Are dead despite temptation.

Everyone's a crashing bore
Except your mum, it's noted
Lou sits in the front row for
Her son and stays devoted,
Hide emotion everywhere,
Exiled within the closet,
Was loneliness too hard to bear,
O Kenneth please, what was it?

In a restaurant rejoice
And smash the rules that cage us,
Flare the nostrils, raise the voice,
Proceed to act outrageous,
Make them plead for more until
They're crying tears of laughter,
Catch the instant of a thrill,
The empty flat comes after.

Bitch about the nation's health,
Read endless books on culture,
Acid-toned despise yourself
And every liberal vulture;
Gleeful at the great divide
Accept death's steely bayonet,
Grateful go with suicide,
Leave diaries to explain it.


©
Bobbysmom
05-11-2016
Originally Posted by mr. mustard:
“

Good grief, that certainly wasn't the 5:15 at Waterloo

A steam train of a poem Ruth, so well written and it shows how powerful metaphors can be. I've come over all unnecessary ”

Y'know Musty ... I don't think it WAS the 5.15 at Waterloo .... and I'm highly delighted you've come over all unnecessary .... if my words on a page do that do you .... imagine ........ ???? ok ... well lets not! lolololol
Bobbysmom
05-11-2016
Originally Posted by mr. mustard:
“Carry On Kenneth


©”

Love it
Bobbysmom
05-11-2016
Originally Posted by Keyser_Soze1:
“Thomas the Wank Engine?”


Yes ... well .... that's perhaps not as diplomatic a choice of words as I'd have put ... but hey ho.
Bobbysmom
06-11-2016
Originally Posted by belly button:
“That's the spirit !

Poor Musty will have a seizure in the library when he reads that in the morning !

http://img02.deviantart.net/ad0e/i/2...at-d8zkods.png”



Well Thank the Lord in all his Heavens Musty survived ...... though what a way to go eh?

LOVE the pic BB .... a little more innocent than the beast in the poem
Bobbysmom
07-11-2016
Some things ........

A little drop of the Devils Brew
isn't a bad thing now and again.
When you've had a fairly hectic week
it helps ease stress and strain.
The first glass is delightful,
it tends to go down a treat,
the second one makes you think
"I MUST get something to eat"
By the time the third has hit you
You forget to have a munch
which is a little silly
seeing as you missed lunch.
Now you think you're fascinating
and getting quite verbose,
and suddenly you feel sparkly
from your head down to your toes.
A fourth glass is a GREAT idea,
and as that goes down yer neck
you think "I know! I'll go online"
Now there's NO keeping you in check.
So on you go, and start to type,
don't realise you're wittering
You think you're being perfectly fine
whist giggling and tittering.

The next day you go back and check
and see just what you wrote.
And you blush and die a thousand deaths
and recall a well known quote.

SOME things ARE better left unsaid
mr. mustard
07-11-2016
Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“Love it”

Thanks Ruth - I have The Diaries of Kenneth Williams, a harrowing and hilarious read

Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“Well Thank the Lord in all his Heavens Musty survived ”

I watched it all from the platform

Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“A little drop of the Devils Brew
isn't a bad thing now and again.”

Yep and the Royal Oak sold Doombar for a while You be careful with those bevvied posts Ruth
mr. mustard
07-11-2016
No poem from me today but I'll try to post one tomorrow - see you soon my friends
Bobbysmom
07-11-2016
Originally Posted by mr. mustard:
“

Yep and the Royal Oak sold Doombar for a while You be careful with those bevvied posts Ruth ”

Oh I will Musty ....
Though in this instance I appear to have come away unscathed
Bobbysmom
07-11-2016
Originally Posted by mr. mustard:
“No poem from me today but I'll try to post one tomorrow - see you soon my friends ”


Leaving us all wanting .... you tease you
Bobbysmom
07-11-2016
Winter


Remember decades ago
when we were young, not a care to be had?
Couldn't wait to go outside
the cold never really felt bad.

A bit of a scarf hung round your neck
probably knitted by your mum
Duffel coat, left open wide
maybe gloves if you had some.

And even though it was bitter
the ground hard beneath your feet
You'd have a really cracking time
playing games in the street.

Breathing out steamy mist
giggling till you choke
because you could pretend
you were having a crafty smoke!

Cold noses seemed so funny
cracked lips were not much fun
but when you got back home
Mum would put vaseline on.

Staying out till darkness fell
Then you'd be called in
couldn't WAIT till tomorrow
To do it all again.

But now I'm SLIGHTLY older
And going outside in this?
Yeah .... I'm just not so keen
I think I'll give it a miss.

IF I really HAVE to
Then of course I must
Pass me over my thermals
I refuse to catch the bus!

I will call a taxi
to get where I have to go
and insist the heater is on full blast
I'm not a kid you know!
mr. mustard
08-11-2016
Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“Winter

Remember decades ago
when we were young, not a care to be had?”

A good 'memory' poem Ruth Yes, I remember the long hard winters of childhood, going out in me West Ham bobble hat and suchlike Freezing though it has been for the last few days, the time of year has consolations; seeing everything covered in snow is still a wonder
mr. mustard
08-11-2016
The Acrobatic Cat

The acrobatic cat's a star,
Although he looks the norm,
Four legs and fur so warm,
He spins and bops, he never stops,
His act goes down a storm.

The acrobatic cat belongs
To Stacey who could see
How marvellously he
Performed the splits to Bee Gees hits
Of old like Tragedy.

She named the puss 'AC' for short,
A master of the groove
And after every move
He'll do the waltz or somersaults
With nothing left to prove.

If Stacey pours some milk he soars,
At midnight how he jives,
(Moonwalks and flips and dives!)
Cartwheels a lot, her moggy's got
Not nine but fifty lives.

The acrobatic cat's a star,
He boogies for the fun,
When all is said and done
No other cat can dance like that,
AC is number one!


©
Bobbysmom
08-11-2016
Originally Posted by mr. mustard:
“The Acrobatic Cat

The acrobatic cat's a star,
Although he looks the norm,
Four legs and fur so warm,
He spins and bops, he never stops,
His act goes down a storm.



©”

Oh I LOVE this Musty ..... I am definitely a big feline fan
mr. mustard
09-11-2016
Originally Posted by Bobbysmom:
“Oh I LOVE this Musty ..... I am definitely a big feline fan ”

Yay, thanks Ruth - I'm a cat person, that's why the acrobatic cat was created
scottie2121
09-11-2016
America took a dump
and out came Mister Trump.
Bobbysmom
09-11-2016
FIRE


One day you're feeling weary and tired,
There's not a great deal to look forward to.
And then the next something happens
and a spark awakens in you.

That spark is just a little one,
Not much to write home about.
Only you are aware it's begun
and you wonder if it will die out.

Then a warm breeze comes along
and fans that tiny light.
It turns into a little flame
that feels comfortable and right.

It flickers there inside you
and you wonder if it will grow?
Fire is like all life.
Needs fuel to feed the glow.

You hope the flame will endure
You just seem to KNOW it's right
and you want to feel the fire.
You never know, you might.

And suddenly it happens
you are past the faint glow phase.
the perfect fuel is there,
from flame is born a blaze.

NOW I'm really very hot
and loving this new feeling.
My body is engulfed in desire.
it leaves my mind reeling.

Now I'm no longer weary
nor tired nor feeling worn.
I have something to look forward to.
From fire a passion is born.

Now I have become that fire
with flames that dance and writhe.
All because that little spark
was noticed and kept alive.


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