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This is a question Teenage Poetry

Hormones and rhyming dictionaries seem to go together. Let's celebrate this by publishing the poems you wrote as a teenager.

(, Thu 11 Aug 2005, 14:49)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1

This question is now closed.

I should be so lucky
Not mine but this makes me laugh when I remember it, it was all encompassing at school for a while when neighbours was at the height of its popularity...

I should be so lucky with my rubber ducky
Strangle Mrs Mangle today
Daphne's had a baby
Called him 'little Jamie'
Bouncers gone a-bouncin' away..
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 20:33, Reply)
nope, not a fan of marillion... theyre hideous.

Incidentally, i am a fan of Rush though... theres your prog rock link. The title is actually plaguerised from one of their songs.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 20:23, Reply)
Don't know if colonelcustardscataracts is a Marillion fan...
...but the following doggerel from the cartoon at the back of Kerrang! sometime in the 80's, destroyed the Misplaced Childhood album for me:

I am swimming in my bowl,
I'm a Fish and not a mole...
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 20:16, Reply)
Warning may contain prog rock
is colonelcustardscataracts a Marillion fan? sounds like it!
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 20:02, Reply)
dedicated to a fish
He was good
He was Fred
But now he is
Totally dead

(RIP Fred!)
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 18:11, Reply)

Lady Di
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:35, Reply)
I have many more of these. Someone shoot me now...

Hello Whisky
You're my friend
aren't you?
You'll never leave me
will you?
Oh shit.
The bottle's empty
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:33, Reply)
How to write poetry
Think of a very shallow premise, and
write it down as a short title. Then write
the first sentence, breaking to a
new line after a few words so that, to the
unititiated, it looks a little like a stanza

Repeat, as each thought enters
your head.

Omit half of the punctuation but
instead add
additional emphasis
via one or two words alone on a line

Get sidetracked by the TV, the shininess of the
pixels on the computer, or simply forget the
overall purpose
and meaning of the work

Give up after three or four verses, and
go to the pub.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:30, Reply)
im sorry....
When days were old
and knights were bold
and condoms weren't invented
the men tied a sock
around their cock
and the babies were prevented
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:27, Reply)
Aged 10
Ta-ra-ra-boom ti ay
Paul Parkins is a gay
We know that anyway
(He told us yesterday)

Funny thing was, he wasn't.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:27, Reply)
this is by far the most painful QOTW ever.

(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:24, Reply)
mary had a little lamb
and a little duck
she put them on the mantlepeice
to see if they would fall off.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:20, Reply)

Like vagrants, crossing laminate floors
Digitized lives in superstores
Flitting in networks, so painfully aware
Of what they need or want within
The criss-cross of isles
Like a gestured smile
Pacified grace;
An obscured face
A fleeting appeal that flaunts to conceal
Its callous rhythm like metronome
And its sinuous web bears no thoughts of home
But eviscerates height in clinical light
To pack and folk in fastened sight
As the vigils pivot to their flight;
Grasping at a visionless target-
To stretch the margin ever wider
And to narrow at the character that persists to bind
Time to self, and self to time
But its slow revolve grants myopic roles
Left with little but pallid soul;
A faded whole
Spectres that glide
In a sightless stride
With nothing to regret
And nothing to find
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:09, Reply)
Not My Pancreas
Why, oh why, oh why
Do the girls not talk to me?

Is it my ears? They droop. The lobes are prominent
Like bulbous, fleshy eardogs.

Is it my eyes. My piercing, grey-blue eyes. They stare
At children.

Is it my nose? It is large but not unsightly.
The bridge is formidable.

Is it my hair, all lank and chewy?
It reeks of uncles. Naughty, naughty uncles.

Is it my heart? It is brown and beats like puppies.
Puppies bouncing off an anvil.

Is it my legs? My hefty, bovine legs?
The knees are like udders.

Is it my pancreas? No. That is my greatest asset,
Yet it hides within my torso and mocks me from within.

Is it my chin? It juts downward towards hell
As though showing me my destiny.

Is it my glans?
Yes. It is my glans.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 17:09, Reply)
heres just a few of my very early works.......
Grow a beard

Grow a beard
Doesnâ??t it make you want facial hair?
Grow a beard
Zz top

Arenâ??t giraffes stupid?

With a long neck no polo would fit
If a jumper would they would look like a tit
With stupid lips on there stupid head
And pointless ears and spindly legs
They have a stupid grin they eat the tops of trees
Look like they are on stilts and have knobbly knees
With a big bum so high of the ground
They do the curliest shits around
I think giraffes are bloody stupid creatures
Not exactly good looking with their stupid features
It not that i've got anything against giraffes
But they're daft.

Sally from home and away

If you watch home and away
You might have noticed something today
That something involved sally
She got overnight chest
She got
No tits to big tits
No chest to large breasts
No front to full front
No nips to meaty bits
Melons yes now
Jugs yes now
Boobs yes now
Baps yes now
Lips, tits, hips, bits
Sally's growing up.

Donâ??t eat my strawberries

I've got lots of strawberries in my strawberry patch
I've got red strawberries in my strawberry patch
I've got big strawberries in my strawberry patch
Mmmh juicy fruit

Everyone leave my strawberries alone
They are mine you can't have any

Donâ??t eat my strawberries

Mr blackbird, Douglas and Thora Hird
Terry and June and Mr spoon
The littlest hobo and the fraggles especially gobo

Ryan Giggs and three little pigs
Cilla black and giant haystacks
Papa smurf and the sexy girl on the bounty advert

Jimbo and the jet set and roger ramjet
John Candy, take that and big daddy
Mr motivator and wolf that stupid gladiator

Esther ransen, David jenson and floella Benjamin
Mr elephant and playaways Brian Cant
The band therapy? and the whole cast of casualty

Bernard manning and Deborah Harry
Sarah green and Barry sheen
Paul Daniels and the queen mothers cocker spaniels

The stereo mc's
Any strawberry eating species
The lead singer of suede
Barbra Streisand and Elaine page
Wizard Gandalf and live aid organiser Bob Geldof.

oh dear.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 16:59, Reply)
rubbish qotw
Mary Had a little lamb
it's fleece was bright and red
the reason for my little tale
a pick-axe in it's head

Mary had a little lamb
she thought it rather funny
she took it to the slaughter house
and sold it for some money
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 16:51, Reply)
Nice, happy stuff:
It's the Summer without sunshine,
It's the night without stars,
It's solitude confinement,
It's a life behind bars,
It's a muffled scream,
It's a stifling cry,
It's the sting of a tear drop,
It's the loneliest sigh,
It's uncompfortable silence,
It's waking from dreams,
It's cut into ribbons,
And it's ripped at the seams.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 16:02, Reply)
er - not sure why but:
walkin' down broadway
tryin' to fuck a whore
oh shit son of a bitch
couldn't find a whore

finally found a whore
she was tall and thin
oh shit son of a bitch
couldn't get it in

finally got it in
twisted it all about
oh shit son of a bitch
couldn't get it out

finally got it out
it was red and sore
the moral of the story is...

(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 15:16, Reply)
First and last poem I ever wrote... at 17..
She was only quite nice
But I needed a screw
And I thought that she felt
the same way too
So when she rolled over and said
'I love you'
I panicked,
Freaked out,
Didn't know what to do,
So I lied a lot,
Cried a lot,
Tears with no meanings,
Hurting her feelings till a beautiful evening
Was totally spoilt by the fact that I'm stuck
in an ill-fated search for a quick easy fuck.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 14:18, Reply)
Rhymey goodness
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old . . . I grow old . . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

*Might actually have been written by TS Eliot not me....
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 14:15, Reply)
I wrote a great one about cake

Cake for breakfast
Cake for tea
All the cake in the world for me
Cake in the air
Cake on the ground
Lots of cakes flying all around
10 cakes!
30 cakes!
40 cakes more!
I'll eat cake till I hit the floor
A pile of cakes stacked to the ceiling
I'll eat cake until I'm reeling
My body's bloated
My taste buds numb
But I won't stop until I'm done
I'll eat cake from dusk till dawn
Till I explode all over the lawn
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 14:15, Reply)
i like beer

beer likes me

sham a lam a ding dong

one two three
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 14:02, Reply)
Im Still a teenager and i get bored at work.. revel in my pretentious lyrical expressions!

playdoh is cool and it rools my skool
hours of endless entertainment with goo!
much better than doing adult things
like cooking and cleaning and working...

some pretentiousness....

doh so im crawling inside,
i feel like a maggot
eating away
the dead parts of me

woe betide this is getting emo
my mind has caved in
and i dont like

Mindless banterings
extreme thoughts
colliding and crashing


okay so its not funny
and i dont think it ever was really
stop being silly
and get on with some college work!

and some plain idiotic..

Im full of beans! why? i dont know!
Im being paid to sit here but really i wanna go..

*plinky plonks of instrument of your choice...*

To the beach and the moon,
and the stars and rangoon,
and malaysia,
and north east asia.

I wanna go to malibu,
wanna learn taekwando,
wanna make a religion,
that worships tofu.

I wanna fly in the sky,
wanna make a big pie,
wanna eat chicken fried,
wanna go to dubai.

Wanna dance wanna sing,
wanna predict your future with I-ching,
and go to berlin,
and live in woking... (?)

Its such a shame, coz i dont wanna work,
but if i get sacked ill look like a berk!

i like writing stupid poetry

[p.s. only three more days until im not a teenager...anymore :(]
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 13:46, Reply)
not sure if this ones been done
As I cant be arsed to read all the posts..anyway heres one from school (not mine I admit)

Daisy Daisy give me your tits chew
I'm half crazy, all for the love of you
I havent got a johnny,a plastic bag will do
You'll look sweet between the sheets, with me on top of you.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 13:31, Reply)
not sure if this ones been done
As I cant be arsed to read all the posts..anyway heres one from school (not mine I admit)

Daisy daisy give me your tits chew
I'm half crazy, all for the love of you
I havent got a johnny,a plastic bag will do
You'll look sweet between the sheets, with me on top of you.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 13:19, Reply)
Mary had a diseased cunt
the flaps were green and oozin
and after catchin aids off her
I had to go out boozin
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 13:18, Reply)
A more recent endeavour....
This is a song made up by a bunch of mates whilst munted....

Although it probably won't have the same effect in writing, once heard in chorus is enough to have you singing this quietly to yourself for the rest of your days....

Coconuts and Bananas, Coconuts and Bananas
Malaria and Rabies, Malaria and Rabies
Shit... can it work? Shit... can it work?
Bouncy! Castle! Bouncy! Castle!
God-you-look-good-in-that-top, God-God-God you look good in that top
*CLAP* 'Ave a banana

I feel so much better for sharing this! Apologies for any tedium.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 13:15, Reply)
Cake, cake, I love cake
Oh do stop posting entries from www.odps.org/glossword/index.php?a=index&d=3 that you didnt actually write.

here's an original:

Cake, cake, I love cake,
The finest food that one can bake.
Light jam sponge
or fruit and nut,
I'm never happy if the cake tins shut.

and when your 5th-year english teacher tells you to write a poem about the awful book you've just been forced to read, this is the result:

Calum's Song

I sit beneath your needles, old pine,
You tallest of all trees;
I clamber to your highest branches,
And pick thy cones with ease.

I see you in your summer splender,
As I put the cones into the blender!
Your life will last long after mine,
For I'm a man and you're a pine!

When I work within your peak,
Close to nature and I so meek,
And as I settle for my lunch,
I count your cones and rub my hunch!

It is with remorse that you are felled,
It hurt not you, twas me who yelled,
Cos you fell on my flaming foot!
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 12:31, Reply)
A-level maths
was spent writing limericks. I've forgotten most of them, but:

There once was a man called Les Dawson
A miserable, cocksucking whore's son
He fancied a screw
So he went to the zoo
And got fucked up the arse by a blank or blanks.
(, Mon 15 Aug 2005, 12:24, Reply)

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