anybody fancy a bit of poetry

Not so much poetry, but a rip off of Know How by Young MC. Its not of the same standard of DSOB's pearlers, but its personal.

One of the stupidest things that I’ve ever done
Is get a credit card when I already had one
Should have transferred the balance instead I played on
I’ll tell you now I’ll never have no fun
So now I think that it's my destiny
To file myself for bankruptcy
Quiet, though, a money diet could have been good for me
I kept taking it, never repaying it or even saving it
Losing it and always boozing it, coz I'm a lazy shit
Drawing out cash like books off the shelf
Bank of England finally caught us, and took my mental health
This is God’s honest truth, no frills, no lies
My mates were down the pub with us so I’ve got alibis
I'm hard off, baby, there's no turning back
When I finally told my parents they had a heart-attack
And when the loans are finally finished I'll be takin' my bow
My name is Joycee B, and yo I got no dough, you know what I'm paying

I got no-cash
I’m brassic people, I got know...cash
I sub it just like this...


I’m getting chased by Barclay’s president, I'm hiding all my bank statements
They’re trying to take my house and I'll no longer be a resident
Yes, coz I'm that kind of man
I’ll spend £100 on beer no matter where I am
I got a tab at the pub, none of it on grub
When I get paid it goes to the landlord’s club
I make no payments, phone calls or letters
I’ve a really long list of what I owe to all my debtors
My name is Joycee B, I like to spend the cash
But none of it is mine hence the housing market crash
It's no joke I tell ya, I'll just pay the APR
And I’ll have to make do with my dead shit car
Smooth operator, female persuader
Tell her my money worries and she says “I’ll see ya later”
I got the kind of style for the here and the now
But with no money I aint got know how, you know what I'm sayin'?

I got know-cash
Bust people, I got know...cash
Brassic!

Verse 3

I’m in financial ruin, I don’t know what I'm doing
I don’t know where to turn with all this debt that I’m accruing
I turn the off the mobile when they start to phone
And I even pull the chord out of the one at home
Coz I'm broke like a gnome, well the one I got home
Clocking and shocking the amount I’m owing
balh blah, can’t be arsed coz I’m knackered
Cut to the end coz I'm going to bed

I got no-cash...and I'm weeping, never sleeping
In my bank I got no money ...whatesover!
I'm on the mic, cold stone gettin' over
My name is Joycee B, known as the brassic Casanova, kick it
 
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me, with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me, on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me, my treason engendered by traitors beyond me, my life when they murder by means of my hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white waves call me to folly and the desert calls me to doom and the beggar refuses my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton, would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with one face, a thing, and against all those who would dissipate my entirety, would blow me like thistledown hither and thither or hither and thither like water held in the hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.


Louis Macneice- prayer before birth. One of my faves, will try and post something a little more cheery tomorrow
 
O little Flo, I love you so
Especially in your nighty
When the moonlight flits across your tits
O jesus christ almighty!

Derek & Clive


Sorry for lowering the tone, but poetry's poetry right?
 
I really like this one

IF YOU THINK YOU ARE BEATEN - by Walter D. Wintle

If you think you are beaten, you are.
If you think you dare not, you don't.
If you'd like to win but think you can't,
It's almost certain you won't.
Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But sooner or later, the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can.
 
You put yer transfer in
Yer transfer out
In, out, in , out, you piss the Rags about
You do the Cristiano and you turn around
Thats what it's all about...

Oh.. Ronaldo is a wanker
Oh.. Ronaldo is a wanker
Oh.. Ronaldo is a wanker

Knees bent arms straight dive, dive , dive!

(Micky Quinn... Talksport apparantly... brilliant)!
 
Brisblu said:
You put yer transfer in
Yer transfer out
In, out, in , out, you piss the Rags about
You do the Cristiano and you turn around
Thats what it's all about...

Oh.. Ronaldo is a wanker
Oh.. Ronaldo is a wanker
Oh.. Ronaldo is a wanker

Knees bent arms straight dive, dive , dive!

(Micky Quinn... Talksport apparantly... brilliant)!
Click to expand...


pmsl not a classic poem but it rings true so we will keep it
 
A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns

O my Luve 's like a red, red rose
That 's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve 's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
 
Goodbye Emile
My trusted friend
We've known
Each other since we were nine or ten together we climbed hills and trees
Learned of love and ABC's skinned our hearts and skinned our knees

Goodbye Emile
It's hard to die
When all the bird's are singing in the sky now that the spring is in the air
Pretty girls are everywhere
I wish we could both be there

We had joy
We had fun, we had seasons in the sun but the hills we could climb
Were just seasons out of time
 
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