Discussion in 'Poetry Corner' started by Mel1721L, Jan 15, 2012.

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  1. See the soldier, ain't he thick,
    Don't know when he's fed bullshit,
    It don't matter that he's dumb,
    You don't need brains to fire a gun.
  2. Bouillabaisse

    Bouillabaisse LE Book Reviewer

    I thought you'd fucked off?
  3. You do, actually, need fingers though. You obviously don't have any, which is why you are typing with your head.
    • Like Like x 1
  4. That was really good, have you written any more you could share with us?

    Is your name Jim and are you banned from Cardiff buses?
  5. Or are you western making everyone's day with a set of two goodbyes in one weekend?

  6. Thanks for coming but don't delay
    Nobody's bothered that you're going away
    and mind the door as you pass
    don't let it whack you on the arrse.
    • Like Like x 3
  7. Isn't this the second time the old cnut has departed?

    Bit dusty, etc etc
  8. Ode to Mel

    You left the green and pleasant land
    The place you once admired.
    'Twas España where you ventured,
    As you are now so old, and tired.

    With time a-plenty on your hands
    I bet you've been 'Barca.
    And with an internet connection,
    You thought that you'd become an Arrser.

    It's 'oft been said of your poetry skills
    "Mel you're very gifted."
    But alas, within ten posts,
    That view has sort of shifted.

    You've never heard of Durchy
    The champion of squaddie verse,
    And if you had, you'd quietly think
    That you could do no worse.

    Well think again my ex-pat friend
    You didn't get it right.
    Your poor attempts at poetry
    Are nothing, worse that shite.

    I would suggest you find a life
    Far away from planet arrse.
    You are no poet laureate
    Nor will it it ever come to pass.

    Enjoy the sand and peasant girls
    As you bide in sunny climes.
    And stay away from poetry
    And songs, and nursery rhymes.

    Enjoy your favourite tipple,
    Whether sangria or non malt Grouse.
    You have the talent of a hedge baby,
    But without the knowledge or the nous.

    And so my suntanned loser,
    The time has come, you must depart.
    Not unlike a trouser burp,
    An accidental fart.

    Stick to what you're good at,
    Don't take another fall.
    Although I suspect, you know know it too,
    You're good for sweet **** all.

    Arte (aged 3)
    • Like Like x 4
  9. Ho ho ho, Green Giant.
    • Like Like x 1