by Richard (of RBB) - the poet featured on many blogs that have a huge readership
Peter wrote a post the other day,
He does this for no pay,
Something about a kitchen,
The result of the old girl's bitchin'.
Maybe the space is too straight,
She says it needs a renovate.
He doesn't think the idea is great,
For Pete's sake!
To workmen he says, "No!"
He gave up work many years ago.
He bought this house for a bit of peace,
Once workmen start, they never cease.
I mean, what could be dumber
Than having to talk to a plumber.
He'd rather take the old girl on a date,
For Pete's sake!
He's always been a snazzy dresser,
He does this to try to impress her,
He tells her about his old Humber 80,
She says, "Give it a rest, matey!"
Now he may have to talk to tradies
When he much prefers chatting with ladies.
His fortunes have taken a skate.
For Pete's sake!
He'll have to wear a workmen's outfit,
There's no way to talk her out of it.
He'll have to look like he cares,
High ladders might show them his fears.
He'll stick to unloading their truck,
He'll show them he does give a damn.*
Will the tradies pick him out as a fake?
For Pete's sake!
* word suggested by Benny Hill
I like this poem.
RispondiEliminaIt reminds me of John Cooper-Clarke.
There's one of his that scans a bit like that with the refrain at the end of each verse like "For Pete's sake".
I had a quick look but couldn't find it.
Never mind - here's another one of his:
HIRE CAR
Double park – don’t lock the door
Push the pedals through the floor
Give it loads and then some more
It’s a hire car baby
Grip the stick – grind the gears
Watch that distance disappear
Never yours in a thousand years
It’s a hire car baby
Hire-car, hire-car
Why would anybody buy a car?
Bang it, prang it, say ta ta
It’s a hire car baby
Bad behaviour on the street
Save yourself a couple of sheets
Collision rate keeps it sweet
It’s a hire car baby
Show this motor no respect
Bump it, dump it, call collect
What else do the firm expect
It’s a hire car baby
Drive the fucker anywhere
Just like you don’t care
Put it down to wear and tear
It’s a hire car baby
Pray the person who hired it last
Didn’t drive it quite so fast
This dakarum dodgem doesn’t last
It’s a hire car baby
Try not to kill yourself
Or injure anybody else
Don’t forget to fasten your belts
Rent it, dent it, bang it, prang it
Bump it, dump it, scorch it, torch it
Crash and burn it, don’t return it
Lost deposit, let ’em earn it
Who cares, it’s on the firm
It’s a hire car baby
Hot off the press is a new poem from Robert the sanctimonious apathetic sinner toilet cleaner and something else I can't remember.
RispondiEliminaWhy did you say that?
It had been an affront to my pride.
I actually thought that I had thicker hide.
Am I indeed anything less than perfect?
I'll leave it for you to decide.
I must preserve myself at all costs.
And stop others wrecking my posts.
Maybe you didn't intend to offend.
What if you were trying to be a friend
and I just misunderstood.
But my pride is everything - I must retaliate,
pay back, offend in return - maybe alienate.
I could just let it go. Forgive.
But how many times must I - is that a way to live?
The Old Testament said three times. St. Peter said seven.
Jesus the one-upper said seventy times seven.
Seventy times seven is like always.
I can't count that far so won't do as he says.