Mr Fox had a garden
"I do beg your pardon"
Said Rabbit, who trotted right through it.
Fox picked up the bunny
Then dipped it in honey
And said "Shall I boil it or stew it?"
The BeeI think that I shall never see
The yellow striped pyjama bee
Flitting soft from flower to flower
Collecting pollen by the hour
And when he's done his nine to five
He heads back to the honey hive
A waxy pillow for his head
And "Comb Sweet Comb" above his bed
The Seed that SeedA short sighted seed
From a near sighted weed
Was losing his sight by the hour
Then a sudden idea
Hit him right in the ear
And he knocked himself out on a flower!
He would rummage the greenhouse
The sun-house, the outhouse
And eat all the carrots he found.
He ate carrots galore
'Till there weren't any more
And he sprouted himself off the ground!
He ate and he ate
And it got very late
And the sun went to bed far away
He walked out to the park.
But in spite of the dark
The young seed could see clear as day!
And when he had grown
He had seeds of his own
(Although several were eaten by parrots)
Through the night he would sprout
And all night he would shout
"I can seed in the dark 'cos of carrots!"
I thought...I thought I'd write a little rhyme
To say something to you
I tried to make it sound like Keats
But that just wouldn't do
So then I tried like Tennyson
But he's just not my style
And when I tried like Shakespeare
I really had to smile!
I tried to write like Wordsworth
And got in quite a stew
So now I'll write it just like me
And say that "I love You"
Fractured Tales and RhymeI grew up with the notion that Fairytales were meant
To pass on to our children with enjoyment heaven sent
Each story has a tale of woe and endings full of dread
They sent us under the covers hiding in our bed
Little Alice was lost in Wonderland
after falling down a hole
Poor Gingerbread was accosted
on a bridge by Mr troll
Peter cried Wolf too many times
and lost all of his sheep
Snow White was envied by a witch
and ended up asleep
The Big Bad Wolf ate Granny
and chased the girl in red
Had Hansel and Gretal being roasted
after losing their crumbs of bread
Poor Cinders had a mean step-mother
and ugly step sisters too
Pinocchio was swallowed by a whale
deep in the oceans blue
Sleeping Beauty got her finger pricked
while spinning golden thread
Whilst Goldilocks was scared to death
when found in the Bears big bed
These are just some examples and I am sure you do agree
The stories and their endings are as silly as can be
Nursery Rhymes are just as bad and had me wondering why
As IfIf you can hold your drink when all about you
are losing theirs and aiming it at you,
if you can drive your car when all men doubt you,
but make allowance for the coppers too;
or need to pee but not be tired by waiting,
or after peeing dont forget your flies;
on politics or football start debating
and yet dont look too good nor talk too wise.
If you can drink and not make drink your master;
if you can talk and not make sense your aim;
if you can still stand up although youre plastered
and shout at passing women dirty names;
if you can bear to hear the truth tomorrow
of how you acted like a total fool
and caused your girl to sob in shame and sorrow
when you picked up that tart from Liverpool
If you can take your childrens Christmas money
and risk it on one turn of pitch and toss
and lose, and laugh like it was funny
and never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force yourself just to continue
to drink another pint of foaming ale
and stay upright whe
Mid-summer Moon (poem)
On a beautiful night with a big full moon,
in the mid-summer warm month of June.
The village had settled but no one could sleep,
although they'd all tried counting sheep.
Some tossed and turned and some read books,
some just listened to the babbling brook.
The moon lit up the sky so bright.
Nobody´s going to sleep tonight.
Even the birds were wide awake,
"Oh please be quiet for goodness sake!"
They preened their feathers and flew around
with tweets and hoots and a dawn chorus of sound.
It was just no use, the moon's too strong,
pulling people up from where they belong.
So robbed of sleep, the night like day
they pottered about, all yawning away.
As the moon moved on behind the hills,
now everywhere dark and wonderfully still.
Lights went out and everyone said
" Thank goodness, now we can go to bed."
written by Suzanne karbach
MenThe toilet seat's still up, and the covers aren't turned down.
My forehead's always wrinkled in a forty-year-old frown.
And last year, for my birthday, you bought me anti-aging cream.
I wouldn't have been offended if it wasn't my nineteenth.
You underanalyse every little thing I say -
"I just don't want to talk right now" means "Baby, won't you stay?"
You squeeze your daily toothpaste from the middle of the tube
And your idea of romance is comparing Chelsea to my boobs.
Of course, I should be pleased - for it's every woman's dream
To rate so high that they're compared to a winning football team.
I swear, with one more 'compliment', I'll make a sign to proclaim:
"I'm on my period right now - men, stay the fuck away!"
Dear friend, how much I love you; still
not velvet-like they feel, your paws
while in my hair your raking claws
rip out whole strands with cruel skill.
You're purring, much to my delight
while dangling right before my face
your hairy tail despite its grace
now makes me sneeze and blocks my sight.
My little kitty, cute and sweet,
my head is aching from your weight.
Why should you bother what I've said,
knowing you'll always get your treat?
Massacre of the InnocenceGeorgie Porgie threw an orgy
just outside L.A.,
where Jack Be Nimble grabbed his thimble,
outing him as gay...
Little Jack Horner bought Time Warner
before the bubble burst,
though Jumping Jack Flash saw the crash
and liquidated first...
Jack said Jill was taking the Pill
to ward off impregnation;
the Three Blind Mice have lobbied twice
for victim's compensation...
Little Miss Muffet had her tuffet
and Little Bo Peep married a creep;
lamb chops gave him gout...
Jack Sprat's wife went under the knife
for Lap-Band surgery,
then Third Little Pig struck it big
on reality TV...
Old King Cole's gone on the dole,
exposed as a pretender;
while Wee Wil
A Red vs. Blue ChristmasTwas a cold, winters night, and down at blue base,
Life slowly went by at a monotonous pace;
Artillery was left without guard, and who cared?
Attack the blue base? Red Team wouldnt dare!
Down in the bunker Caboose and Church sat,
Wishing for something that they could shoot at.
While Tex in her grey and Sis in her yellow.
Hoped command would send out a more interesting fellow.
Then, to their surprise who should come running in?
Twas Tucker with an unhelpful look of chagrin.
Theyre just over the hill! He yelled in great haste.
To your posts! shouted Church, They will not take our base!
From the roof they could see the Reds getting quite close,
In their beat up Warthog and a couple of Ghosts.
From below, in the garage came an engine-like sound,
As Sheila drove out, and her gun swung around.
So, now what? said Caboose all these buttons are swell.
Oops, wrong one. And he cringed
I Want to Feel Purple
I feel so Blue
Blue as Cinderella's ball gown
Blue as the clothes I'm wearing
Blue as my desktop background
Blue as my ipod's casing
Blue as facebook's theme colour
Blue as the tiles in my bathroom
Blue as my evanescence CD cover
Blue as a smurf cartoon
Blue as the Israeli flag
Blue as the color of Squidward's blood
Blue as an avatar dressed in a rag
Blue as the town that drowned in a flood
Blue as the sleepy twitter whale
Blue as the villain in 'Big Fat Liar'
Blue as the scrubs that doctors wear
Blue as the hottest flame of fire
I feel so Blue
What should I do?
I think I'll mix a little red
So I can feel purple instead!
If I were writtenIf I were written,
how would I taste?
I could be a dictionary
- bland -
yet a necessity.
It's possible I could have
the flavour of receipts,
spit me out,
get your money back –
it won't affect your
Perhaps I'd be
a top-shelf magazine –
an addictive tang kept as a treat.
Maybe you'd trace
as if I were the icing of a sonnet.
If I were written,
I wonder if you'd try me