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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful
L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

My bum's so big

And my tits are too

And I've even got a bigger

Cock than you :D

isn't really hard to tell your a couple

LFN+lb= sex and a baby oh wait there's something I'm forgetting oh yeah they are a couple

Why don't you just admit you are in love

And this is fake love this is true love

Oh no you have found out

Who it is I dream about

Alas my wildest fantasy lingers

Because there's no way I'd get it on with a man with webbed fingers

 

And anyhow you are wrong

About who it is I long

On my feelings I can no longer keep a lid

I want to bone you, Morbidkid

You realise he's like 14 and that post could get you on a list.

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful
L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

My bum's so big

And my tits are too

And I've even got a bigger

Cock than you :D

isn't really hard to tell your a couple

LFN+lb= sex and a baby oh wait there's something I'm forgetting oh yeah they are a couple

Why don't you just admit you are in love

And this is fake love this is true love

Oh no you have found out

Who it is I dream about

Alas my wildest fantasy lingers

Because there's no way I'd get it on with a man with webbed fingers

 

And anyhow you are wrong

About who it is I long

On my feelings I can no longer keep a lid

I want to bone you, Morbidkid

You realise he's like 14 and that post could get you on a list.

 

Its ok, Lardy is really 13. :lol:

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful
L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

My bum's so big

And my tits are too

And I've even got a bigger

Cock than you :D

isn't really hard to tell your a couple

LFN+lb= sex and a baby oh wait there's something I'm forgetting oh yeah they are a couple

Why don't you just admit you are in love

And this is fake love this is true love

Oh no you have found out

Who it is I dream about

Alas my wildest fantasy lingers

Because there's no way I'd get it on with a man with webbed fingers

 

And anyhow you are wrong

About who it is I long

On my feelings I can no longer keep a lid

I want to bone you, Morbidkid

You realise he's like 14 and that post could get you on a list.

none of your business

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Caskets understand no titles - A poem by Predictor.

 

"Casket, oh casket,

I have a question, may I ask it?

 

They say you don’t understand titles, is it true?

No, uttering false statements you shall not do.

 

Not only is my understanding of titles good,

Having them inside makes me feel aroused like a necrophile would"

 

The end.

 

 

William McGonagall would be proud :party:

 

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Looking for people who are destined to rot

But 14 names or so alls that I got

Then half of my team members

Can't live through December

Where's the 2016 Stuart Scott?

 

I don't need 20 lock-tight guarantees

But a few Lauren Hills, Reaper, if you should please

There's no easy pickins

Like Little Jimmy Dickens

And Joey Feek's startin to look like a tease

 

So here I sit staring at a half-hearted list

Some new names take over where old names have missed

Erasing and edit

Should bloody forget it

And go get some liquor before I get pissed

 

SirC

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It's that time of year again

When verse bursts forth, or summat

The day of sonnets, songs and rhymes

And other things you might hum at.

 

So let's review the year so far

It's really been a pisser

The body count's been piling up

But for Deathlist more a "misser".

 

Famous deaths are what we need

Deathlist has only seven

Whilst other pools stack them up

We've sent so few to heaven.

 

Michelmore, Reagan and Crowe

And Boutros Boutros Ghali

Havelange, Vigoda (who thought they'd go?)

Not to mention boxer Ali.

 

So will there be an eighth hit now?

When will those listed come?

We'd have been better chasing/choosing

Some poor old cancer mum.

 

No-one's grieving Jimmy Greaves

Or mourning Rama Nine

Tyler Moore is not no more

In fact they're all just fine.

 

Leslie Phillips' no filip

Murray Walker's still walking

While Chong smokes a bong

With our friend Stephen Hawking.

 

The Reaper's been busy

For this recent wee while

Though I think he's been following

The posts of gcreptile.

 

So come on Committee!

Next year you'll bounce back!

Just don't pick the likes

Of rhyming Jacques Chirac!

 

My annual poetic tribute

It's really been a blast

Though I know that you're thinking

Please let it be his last!

 

But while all these couplets

Against poetry's a crime

Remember those on the DL

Are running out of time!

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It's that time of year again

When verse bursts forth, or summat

The day of sonnets, songs and rhymes

And other things you might hum at.

 

So let's review the year so far

It's really been a pisser

The body count's been piling up

But for Deathlist more a "misser".

 

Famous deaths are what we need

Deathlist has only seven

Whilst other pools stack them up

We've sent so few to heaven.

 

Michelmore, Reagan and Crowe

And Boutros Boutros Ghali

Havelange, Vigoda (who thought they'd go?)

Not to mention boxer Ali.

 

So will there be an eighth hit now?

When will those listed come?

We'd have been better chasing/choosing

Some poor old cancer mum.

 

No-one's grieving Jimmy Greaves

Or mourning Rama Nine

Tyler Moore is not no more

In fact they're all just fine.

 

Leslie Phillips' no filip

Murray Walker's still walking

While Chong smokes a bong

With our friend Stephen Hawking.

 

The Reaper's been busy

For this recent wee while

Though I think he's been following

The posts of gcreptile.

 

So come on Committee!

Next year you'll bounce back!

Just don't pick the likes

Of rhyming Jacques Chirac!

 

My annual poetic tribute

It's really been a blast

Though I know that you're thinking

Please let it be his last!

 

But while all these couplets

Against poetry's a crime

Remember those on the DL

Are running out of time!

Bravo. Bravo

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Joeyruss

id cast him out

on a boat with no oars and rollocks

and if he dared to come back to shore

Id kick him in the bollocks, or summat

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****caution....may or not be 100% genuine****

 

 

A rangers fan died on the way to their game at the weekend in a bus crash, and since then it's been RIP city from the great and the good (by the by, his social media history was 'interesting')

 

In the usual hun poetry day thread (yes, there is such a thing).

 

 

YUQTCfy.png

 

 

I say 'treat with caution' because of the provenance, but, having read their poetry for years, even I cannot be sure....

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It's that time of year again

When verse bursts forth, or summat

The day of sonnets, songs and rhymes

And other things you might hum at.

 

So let's review the year so far

It's really been a pisser

The body count's been piling up

But for Deathlist more a "misser".

 

Famous deaths are what we need

Deathlist has only seven

Whilst other pools stack them up

We've sent so few to heaven.

 

Michelmore, Reagan and Crowe

And Boutros Boutros Ghali

Havelange, Vigoda (who thought they'd go?)

Not to mention boxer Ali.

 

So will there be an eighth hit now?

When will those listed come?

We'd have been better chasing/choosing

Some poor old cancer mum.

 

No-one's grieving Jimmy Greaves

Or mourning Rama Nine

Tyler Moore is not no more

In fact they're all just fine.

 

Leslie Phillips' no filip

Murray Walker's still walking

While Chong smokes a bong

With our friend Stephen Hawking.

 

The Reaper's been busy

For this recent wee while

Though I think he's been following

The posts of gcreptile.

 

So come on Committee!

Next year you'll bounce back!

Just don't pick the likes

Of rhyming Jacques Chirac!

 

My annual poetic tribute

It's really been a blast

Though I know that you're thinking

Please let it be his last!

 

But while all these couplets

Against poetry's a crime

Remember those on the DL

Are running out of time!

Grand

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So.

Farewell then

Zoe Tate.

You are about to be late.

 

Keith's Mum

used to like Emmerdale

when it was a Farm.

 

 

E. J. Thribb (17½)

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A lesbian who came from Khartoum

Took a nancy boy up to her room

She turned out the light

Said let's get this right

Who does what and with which and to whom?

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Why am I up at four in the morning, wide awake?

Which vengeful god did I accidentally forsake?

Am I slowly becoming an insomniac?

Why does my body take this flac?

No rhyme or reason to when I sleep or I arise!

All I know is I'm craving just to shut my eyes!

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Lara Roxx sucked too many cocks

Now shes got HIV

If only she listened to what mummy said

Dont play with sperm just pee!!

 

or summat

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I made this in like 15 minutes, don't judge.

 

September of this year came

I sat down and I said
my hit count has been lame
this year I better go ahead
and start thinking of names
I could use for the next year
After all, a couple of months,
and it will be here.
I chose some foreign leaders
like Carlo Ciampi and Shimon
But both of them died soon after
and I was like "come on"
I looked through every book
and every nook
and every corner of the net
Yet my demands were still not met
Many cancer-picks'd be obitless
A Deathrace team I made fast
But the Derby Pool I must save last.
October rolled around
and with it falling leaves
I guarded my names safely
from those evil deadpool thieves
Our miserable hit total was 7
but then
Bhumibol 'Dulyadej brought
the total up again.
Halloween was upon us
a damn good holiday
Prince Mikasa and others
had died by that day
I could feel the chill in my bones
of ghosts and ghouls and witches
and I could feel I was finna
lose again to those damn bitches
so I sat back down
And I got serious
Findin folk soon-to-be-underground
and folk who was delirious
Dancers with cancer
Artists with arthritis
Jokers who had strokers
or a hearty heart attack
Smokin celebs
whose lungs were prolly black.
November said the calendar
and I proudly said
Holy shit my lists are good
at least half will be dead
But I wasn't done, hun
Two more months, hun
I will research in the night and sun
40 names ain't enough
for my Shadow List
So I worked in the night and sun
and cool November mist.
Thanksgiving break!
Finally, a time to enjoy
But I wasn't gonna fool around
or toy around - not toy!
I intensively read
through all threads
with a cup of coffee
layin in bed
I had some turkey, pumpkin pie
Pondering "Is Kilmer gonna die?"
Five whole days
to research well
Oh lord, for this
I'mma burn in hell.
And here I bring you to this point
early December
Wondering if Pres'dent Trump
will be killed or dismembered?
Keeping notes to make sure that
my fine ass remembers
Who the f**k I 'spect to die
like the Queen of the Thais.
Shaun's Pool, Deathrace, and
of course, the Derby
Picking out some cancer mums
and people who got scurvy
As you can see
the past months have
been busy for me
Wish me luck in all contests
'Specially DDP.
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Congratulations RadGuy

On the poem that you posted

But don't forget the Hare's Pool

That Deathray previously hosted.

 

Yes I demand that you must find

Another twenty five (and subs)

To give you a start and a lil help

I suggest you start with Alf Dubs.

 

To really win as you must know

A point you must remember

It's better to pick folk who'll go

Between July and December.

 

So while I wish you all the best

In other Pools you list

There's one that surpasses all the rest

The Hare's I will insist.

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Just realised it is World Poetry Day. I normally do something for National Poetry Day, but maybe I should make it a bi-annual event.

 

I'll have a think.

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Here it is, World Poetry Day

We're only down one quarter

So I thought I'd pen another verse

Although it might be shorter.

 

The newspapers got a hold of us

'Gainst Deathlist expressed revulsion

And many members left us

Through choice or through expulsion.

 

Meantime in the real world

Bush and Manson hospitalised!

And then released, alive and well

My points unrealised.

 

Then there was the explosion

Of Dead Pools (yes, more names!)

Perhaps there is a surfeit

Of these prediction games.

 

So turning to the Deathlist

The total's six per cent

With one celebrity death a month

We've barely made a dent.

 

A TV star, a rugby player

And then a billionaire

Have all lost the ability

To breathe the Earth's fresh air.

 

Still, we have 9 months to go

That's two hundred and eighty five days

For some of the Committee's other picks

To pass from some malaise.

 

Who's next? Who's last? Who's third from last?

We simply have not a clue

Whose cheeks will still be burning red

And whose lips will soon turn blue.

 

Time to end this little rhyme

'Twill be updated in September

(That's if I should live so long

Or if I shall remember!)

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Ah, YW, would bring a tear to a fan of McGonagall.

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Quote

 

Washington Crossing the Delaware, by David Shulman (1936).

 

A hard, howling, tossing water scene.
Strong tide was washing hero clean.
"How cold!" Weather stings as in anger.
O Silent night shows war ace danger!

 

The cold waters swashing on in rage.
Redcoats warn slow his hint engage.
When star general's action wish'd "Go!"
He saw his ragged continentals row.

 

Ah, he stands – sailor crew went going.
And so this general watches rowing.
He hastens – winter again grows cold.
A wet crew gain Hessian stronghold.

 

George can't lose war with's hands in;
He's astern – so go alight, crew, and win!

 

I was unaware of this sonnet until I came across it via twitter.

Every line of the poem is an anagram of the title.

 

 

(This is probably where everyone says 'yes, we've known about it for years).

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I have enough trouble knocking up a passable scan without doing anagrams as well! 

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On Poetry Day

In twenty seventeen,

Two famous men died.

They weren't on my team.

 

Old Colin Dexter

Wrote some good books

His character Morse

Caught lots of crooks.

 

Martin McGuinness -

Let me be blunt -

IRA Terrorist

Bit of a cunt.

 

One lived in Oxford

And one in Norn Iron.

I shouldn't have missed them

I knew they were dyin'.

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I feel bad for Bettie Kennedy

Not only did Martin and Dexter

Die next to her

But I can't even be bothered to find a word that rhymes with Kennedy.

 

Second verse

I feel bad for József Szécsényi...

 

:D

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13 minutes ago, msc said:

I feel bad for Bettie Kennedy

Not only did Martin and Dexter

Die next to her

But I can't even be bothered to find a word that rhymes with Kennedy.

 

Second verse

I feel bad for József Szécsényi...

 

:D

 

Threnody!

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30 minutes ago, Toast said:

 

Threnody!

 

Somewhat apt!

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