303 – The End Of The Day

Poem number 303
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The End Of The Day
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Sleep, my toddler, sleep and dream
Of slides and sandpits, cold ice-cream
Of climbing frames and Lego blocks
Of Batman t-shirts, Star Wars socks
Of Nanny’s house and biscuit tin
With chocolate cookies hid within
Of shopping, sitting in the trolley
Swinging feet and fruity lolly
Mr Tumble, Baby Jake
Cups of milk and bits of cake
Sleep well, my toddler, sleep and rest
Sweet dreams of all you love the best
I’ll keep you safe the whole night through
And when I sleep I’ll dream of you.

304 – Cheese Breath

Poem number 304
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Cheese Breath
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The stinky cheese upon your breath
Comes deep from Satan’s Hell,
A badger would be gassed to death
If forced to smell that smell.
A squirrel would be sucker-punched
A pheasant knocked out cold –
That brie you swallowed after lunch
Was gasseous, and old.
The mould upon it’s squelchy skin
Was green as lushest grass
And now you’ve gobbled it within
It’s destined for your arse,
So I beg you, with my deepest heart:
Give warning ‘fore you poo
So that by the time you start to fart
I’m fifty-miles from you.

305 – Cholesterol

Poem number 305
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Cholesterol
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Elvis had his food deep fried
He was a chubby chap
His heart was weakened and he died
Whilst going for a crap.
All the rhinestones ever sold
Can’t clear your tubes of fat
So if you fancy getting old
Stop frying things, you twat!

306 – (Traditional)

Poem number 306
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(Traditional)
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They’ve gone to fetch the hangman, gone to fetch the noose
They’ve gone to fetch the hangman
They’ve gone to fetch the noose
They’ve gone to fetch the hangman, gone to fetch that noose
And when its round my scrawny neck I ain’t never getting loose
.
And when they’ve fetched that hangman, well I guess that’s all she wrote
When they’ve fetched the hangman
I guess that’s all she wrote
When they’ve fetched that hangman, well I guess that’s all she wrote
When they’ve fetched that hangman and that noose is round my throat
.
I might just tell the hangman I feel bad for what I done
I might just tell the hangman
We was only making fun
I might just tell the hangman I feel bad for what I done
And maybe that old hangman’ll let me see another sun
.
But now I hear that hangman, with his bible and his psalm
Now I hear the hangman
With his noose there on his arm
Now I hear the hangman with his bible and his psalm
Sweet Jesus here’s the hangman and he’s come to do me harm
.
They went and fetched the hangman, went and fetched that noose
They went and fetched the hangman
Went and fetched that noose
They went and fetched the hangman, went and fetched that noose
And now its round my scrawny neck I ain’t never getting loose
.
And now it’s round my scrawny neck
I ain’t ever getting loose.

308 – C3PO’s Fever

Poem number 308
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C3PO’s Fever
(With apologies to Masefield)
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The rust goes down to my knees again, I can only see from one eye
I called to ask for new silicone chips but I hear not one reply;
And my heel’s split and my chin’s gone and the right hip’s shaking,
And a flayed fist and a peeled face, and my grey diodes breaking.
.
The rust goes down to my knees again, when I fall I get dents in my side
If a wild fall or severe fall then circuits break inside;
I called to ask for a solder iron but they said I wasn’t dying
And my sprung jaw and the blown fuse, and the seized up joints crying.
.
The rust goes down to my knees again, with the fragrant droid-rot rife
With the dull decay and the failing way that my pins cause fetid strife
I called to ask for some darning yarn from our depot down in dover
But a quiet line and a silent scream and my brain has gone, it’s over.

309 – Barbed Wire

Poem number 309
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Barbed Wire
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I wandered lonely as a clown
Through fields of cow-poo muddy brown
While all at once I caused to frown
When barbed-wire blocked my way.
.
Atop a fence of splintered oak
I thought at first it was a joke
But no, a faded sign it spoke
That trespassers would pay.
.
Inflamed, my hiker’s heart with ire
I took my clippers, snipped the wire
I heard a nearby rifle fire
I dived into the hay
.
I lay in fear of violent doom
The rifle loosed a second boom
The dust beside my groin did plume
My old chap blown away
.
I crawled back then to whence I’d been
And since that date I’m not so keen
To wander through sweet England green
On sunny days in May
.
Instead I sit at home and weep
Insidious, the nightmares creep
Of those who held my manhood cheap
When barbed-wire blocked my way.

311 – Engaged

Poem number 311
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Engaged
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Whenever I go to the toilet
It’s locked ‘cause there’s somebody there
There’s only one loo
Into which I can poo
It really isn’t too fair.
.
I’ll have to come back when it’s empty
But not ‘til an hour has passed
The thought of some twit
Sitting having a shit
On my toilet just blocks up my arse!