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a waiting song
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thoughts become balloons in need of deflating as patience is for saints (some) dawdles are grating all pins & needles are blunt here - frustrating time is an old slug now waiting & waiting ...
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a waiting song
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thoughts become balloons in need of deflating as patience is for saints (some) dawdles are grating all pins & needles are blunt here - frustrating time is an old slug now waiting & waiting ...
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compliments to your condiments by best before janaury 1 a.d
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compliments to your condiments i'm astonished this is quite the accomp-lishment you have confidence with your condiments many mustards, mayonnaises, chutneys competence all the sauces - for the courses from bog-standard to the pinnacle of opulence yes compliments to your condiments but they need food dick'ead what's f' lunch ( ? ) ...
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i am inflatable man
by 20 lines of 8/8/5/5/8 syllables with line 2 rhyming with line 5 times 4 read
( simples )
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i am an inflatable man yes - just like a tyre or a chair or sort-of dinghy thingamijiggy so just pump us up with some air we stick like glue to our own kind aye - my wife is a blow-up doll our children: balloons with faces like moons but we too have hearts, minds & souls these things aint debatable man oh no - so don't be so stroppy sometimes i'm punctured there's a hole somewhere then i wilt & go all floppy i am an inflatable man yet nevertheless i'm a man we're just like you but struggle in high winds so please accept us if you can ...
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hat toast by my ‘ing sheet
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hats off to the hat industry as well, without them we'd have no hats unless we made them all by ourselves & cheers evolution for lending us heads also cheers summer for scolding our said-heads & cheers to winter's winds when they blow so that we need them also cheers fashion not that we've met yet - now down she goes ( hic ) ...
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good morning? by 48 syllables in 16 lines of 3 syllabes per-line read
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good morning? dunno yet it's early i'm well-slept the sunshine is present the air here is clement it should be it could turn with dark clouds then things burn then mayhem & end times a maybe 'should be fine ...
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i’ve got loadsa poemz by 34.7 second read ( tops mate, tops )
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i've got loadsa poemz but they're just titles awaiting verses ( just ) waiting for words to spring forth like springed things out from the ether maybe the other a sudden burst i can't be arsed now & i did the first bit come on ye muses don't be so shy pull your fingers out loves or it aint teamwork or does the word team now have an i ( ? ) ...
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( the price of bread ) by 5 odd lines i wrote
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i remember when the bread was so very cheap that the bakers used to pay us to take it from their hands ( in another loaftime ) ...
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night time not day ( this poem is dedicated to a monument )
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night time not day bats flap cats stray deep sleeps ash trays t.v duvets chapters whisky willows wispy jim jams frisky home time miss me? night time moon-based faster slow-paced you choose two-faced janus snails race slippers cocoa clubbers go go seal pups? oh no then dawn ( cock crows ) ...
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on a friday morn with mist by phuh cough
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on a friday morn with mist we tried to write a limerick we thought we should it might be good alas the usual shit 'n' piss came out when my trusty pen & i didst scribe some stuff & then the doorbell rang a dodo sang so we gave up bollocks ( the end ) ... p.s sorry