Poetry for the EU referendum

goat man C3

We have reached that day

Which seemed so very far away

The dreaded EU referendum vote

Which if we leave

Will cause some to cheer and some to grieve

And some to dress up as Horatio Nelson

While others will pretend to be pirates

Or spacemen or a pantomime horse

Which the rest of Europe

Will look upon baffled and confused

And tell each other . . . .

Well they are British of course

And we have never understood them

With their terrible Eurovison songs

And their silly cricket balls

And what kind of nation

Would throw wet sponges at vicars

Or play splat the rat

Amongst the village fete festive stalls

And why do they tolerate all that rain

Then complain about all of us

I mean have you ever been on their trains

Or their inter-city bus

But if they do vote to leave

Well it will be a rather sad sort of day

But it could be so much worse

They might decide to stay

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Poety for Pirates at the Edge of the World

Fish in the Sea 1.

Here we go sailing on the blue briny Sea
Chasing Sea Monsters and Serpents
Drinking Rum, and sweet hot tea
Hauling the main sail as sailors always do
Shouting har har har me hearties
And singing the odd sea shanty or two
Chase a fair wind
For new adventures, in the great unknown
Right to the edge of the world
We hope to be blown
Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest
Yo ho ho we will go, and do our very best
Dropping anchor at tropical islands
Full of unknown tribes and strange beasts
And on the white silvery sands
We will have big barbeque feasts
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Shout the crew
As they raise the Jolly Roger
And Jolly Roger complains
As the seagulls peck at his eyes
But this is what happens to
The English redcoat spies
And once we reach the edge
We will look over into the abyss
Before returning back to blighty
And giving the harbour wall
A Kiss

More Pirate Poetry

pirate eccentric 1

Everyone loves an eccentric wise Pirate
With his pirates swagger
As he sharpens his cutlass on a cuttlefish bone
And his parrot sings of the sea
In a raucous belligerent tone
The crew dancing on a dead man’s chest
Stolen in the dark of night
From its hidden place of rest . . .
Pieces of eight
Gold doubloons
And glinting silver coins
Slipping through the crews fingers
Mistrust brewing through their desire and greed
The eccentric pirate captain and the parrot
Watching and chewing caraway seed
Be gone me hearties
He shouts with his cutlass drawn
Greed will destroy ye all
Like a poison thorn
And with that he throws the chest
Into the sea and says
I be ye greatest Pirate Captain
There will ever be
Because while on my ship all the crew
Are treated equally
.
.
.
HAR HAR HAR
Now where be the rum.
And who
Is going to dive in to recover that chest
.
Tom the cabin boy ye say
Well give him a cannonball
To help him on his way

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HAR
Whats that you say Skippy
Tom can’t swim
DAMN