Poem number 4
A girl with no boobs in her bra
Said “A flat chest is better by far,
‘Cause golf is my thing –
Boobs would hamper my swing
And I’d never get round under par!”
Poem number 9
I’ve just been sick
I don’t feel right
I’m off to bed
An early night
To close my eyes
And lie quite still
And hope there’s no more
Poem number 17
You’ve no hair. Do you care
That your head is shiny pink?
Do you wish that things were different
Whilst you sip your evening drink?
Do you dream of flowing tresses
Just like Samson,when you see
Your reflection in the mirror
In the bathroom whilst you wee?
Do you spread your head with lotion
In the morning when you rise
In the hope that by the evening
You’ll have hair down to your eyes?
Well console yourself good fellow
There’s an upside to your down
For though you’ve got no plumage
Just a dimpled mottled crown
You will never suffer dandruff
And you haven’t any lice
You’ll never need a dryer
Just a towelling will suffice,
You’ll shave off precious seconds
From your morning wash routine –
You’ll catch the bus whilst others
Are still struggling to get clean.
The wind won’t spoil your image
And the rain will bounce away
You’ll never have to worry
That your temple’s going grey
But best of all, dear baldie
Now your tree is just a stump
You can wear a stupid toupe
And pretend you’re Donald Trump!
Poem number 18
The Infirm Worm
There once was a wriggling worm
Who was ill, slightly poorly, infirm
He turned so damn pale
That no-one could fail
To point out that he looked like a sperm.
Poem number 58
Metal Knee Dreams
I think I’d like some metal knees to help me, now I’m old
My bony ones are weak and always ache.
I think I’d like some metal knees now weather’s turning cold
To support me as I stroll around the lake.
I think I’d like some metal knees to stop me falling down
Now my balance is no longer up to snuff.
I think I’d like some metal knees to take me round the town
Now my bony ones have simply had enough.
I think I’d like some metal knees, my bony ones are through
But the doctor says the pain is in my head
So I’ll never get my metal knees no-matter what I do
And the bony ones will have to do instead.
Poem number 76
The Wee Small Hours
The wee emerges from my dick
It travels at a frightful lick
To hurl itself at the urinal
Cascades down and then a final
Gurgle, as it drains away
The wee is gone! Hip hip hooray!
The chore is done. My night’s my own
Until another hour has flown
And brought me back again, to here
To wee away the pints of beer
‘Twas ever thus, is ever this
Another round, another piss.
Poem number 82
Eh Oh Tinky Winky
My sister pulled a Tellytubby
On a drunken night
Then suddenly got very chubby –
Something wasn’t right
So we took her to a private doc
Who only charged a tenner,
The ultrasound was quite a shock:
Quadruplets with antennae!
My sister fainted clean away
Her future ruined, lost!
Four Telly-babies on the way
At heaven knows what cost.
And for what? A slightly kinky
Half an hour of drunken sex
With a pissed up Tinky Winky
On the rebound from his ex.
So let that be a warning
To you ladies of the gin
Lest you wake one headache morning
With quadruplets hid within –
Don’t be tempted by the weenies
Of those Tellytubby boys,
Just stick to shagging Tweenies
Or, perhaps, just stick to toys.
Poem number 104
What Ails Him
Sweaty pits and runny shit
And breath that really smells
Green tinged sputum in his spit
He really isn’t well.
Take him down to A&E
Perhaps they’ll put him right
And if you pay them 50p
They’ll let him stay the night.
Poem number 111
Beyond The Boobs
Buns and baps and wobbly bits
The ladies have nice parts
But a lady who eats lots of beans
Is always prone to farts
And all the pert and lovely nips
And bottoms in the world
Can’t hide the smell of used white wine
And burgers when she hurls
So look beyond the boobies
When it’s time for you to choose –
Pick a lass who hates bakes beans
And never touches booze.
Poem number 125
Spot The Danger
A pimple on your forehead
Isn’t cause to feel alarm
But a pimple on your genitals
Could bring with it some harm
So if you see a pimple
On the bits that you keep hid
For Christ’s sake see a doctor –
You’ll be very glad you did!