one last poem for old time's sake

Righty then, one last trip on the merry go round before all my spare time shall be taken up with intense physical training.

this is just a quick LOL poem that i wrote about someone i disliked at work called Jason. he used to talk like he was from the 80's :S

anyway here it is.

Gay Jay,
The One Inch Wonder,
Tried To Shag A Horse From Down-Under,
He Tried It Once,
He Tried It Twice,
To Which He Then Turned His Attention To The Mice.

Exams already??

Can this be true?

Is it really only a matter of weeks before exams are upon you??

Wishing all my fabulous students the very best of British luck...may you soar through the papers and find questions that you can write about at length.

Let me know what your plans are for the future.

If anyone ever heads Down Under, be sure to look me up (we're returning to Sydney - I missed the Aussie summers and winters too much!)

fibrowning@hotmail.com

Good luck - slay those exams and enjoy the fun afterwards! Keep writing poetry and reading great literature....feed your soul with the language of life!

Mrs R

Roll over Shakespeare

Well - Paul & Beau: you guys are sure having some fun and using your wonderful creativity with your poetry compositions...great stuff!! I love reading your work - I hope you don't mind me still lu7rking in the background!

Did I tell you I had a little baby boy? His name is Marcus and he is just fabulous! He was born on 29 Dec so he is now 10 wks old and just the most adorable little chubba in the world :) ...not that I'm biased or anything...

So I hear you have a new teacher - how's it all going? I've been really concerned for you guys with so many teachers but know that you were in a really strong position when I left and know that if you carefully apply QTEC to writing in the synoptic unit that you'll be fine.

Feel free to ask me any questions, and say a big 'Hi' to the rest of the class (...and where is Craig??)

See you later,
Mrs R

Bring it on!

I have prepared my response to the poetry novice displayed by Beau...

It's called May I begin ?

May I begin ?
To reel you in?With my rolling hills and the valley within?or perhaps by me being...Incredibly thin
Can I start to tear you apart? In search of your wallet In search of your heart.
Open it up What’s within?I really know how to reel you in
CAUGHT YOU NOW!
HOOKLINE And SINKER!
I certainly didn’t go for you ‘cos you were such a ‘great thinker’.
Caught in my web. My little trap of liesKicking and screaming, like little helpless flies! With your gaze fixed solid on my sensational eyesAnd in the morning when you arise And starting to recover from all the moans and the sighs.
After the reassurance “Size doesn’t matter” After my heart went...
Pitter-Patter... Pitter-Patter... Pitter-Patter...
And here you see contains the task
Saying “NO” to me, when all I ask is...
May I ?

WAR! part 2

this one is called 'Paradoxically English'. Now English is considered a difficult language for foreigners to learn, but it can be considered equally perplexing for those who have english as their mother tongue.

Paradoxically English

English is a very perculiar language that i'll grant
E.g. there's no ham in hamburger or egg in the eggplant
Many foreign visitors never quite manage to grapple
with the fact that there is no pine nor apple in pineapple
English muffins were not invented in England in fact
And french fries were not invented in France to be exact
But if foreigners can't understand us I don't give a fig
If a Guinea Pig is not from Guinea and it's not even a pig
So what if Quicksand takes you down slowly, who cares?
And does it matter if the boxing rings are really squares?



This following one isn't one of mine but i thought it was pretty good while browsing for inspiration. A Community Support Officer (CSO) is supposed to support the work of the police and have a deterrent effect, but has few real powers. If you are apprehended by a CSO, the best they do is hold your hand and kindly ask you stay still for 10 minutes, in the hope that a real policeman will arrive.

Go CSO

A Communtity Support Officer
Today seized a handgun replica
The headline in the local paper
Told the story of his endeavour
"An immitation hand gun or replica
was seized by an immitation officer."

WAR!

Paul, you seem to have declared a war of poetry over the past couple of days and i can no longer sit back and let it happen. we were once English buddies, but now i must put that aside as you are no my enemy. you say my poetry is all lovey dovey, then i shall write some humorous stuff. this is War my friend and there will be no prisoners!

And The Beatles Are Still Feeling Fine

Little Eva is singing about "The Locomotion"
On Radio two with John Dunn
While Elvis is wearing his two blue suede shoes
And "The Beatles" still follow the sun

The Stones still have no satisfaction
And Garry's still leading the gang
George is up his ladder cleaning his windows
And "The Beatles" silver hammer goes bang

Roger Miller was always king of the road
Frank's darlin' is still out and about
Cilla comes out then steps inside love
While "The Beatles" still twist and shout

Elton's still following the yellow brick road
Lizzie's drinking whisky from the jar
Ernie's still the fastest milkman in the west
While "The Beatles" are back in the U.S.S.R

Bonnie Tyler has found she's still lost in France
And Ray Charles says hit the road jack
Chris Farlow as always is still out of time
And "The Beatles" sing "Loretta get back"

Lonnie's somewhere near the Cumberland Gap
While Queen only want to break free
Tommy is still chasing his little white bull
While "The Beatles" still let it be

The Monkey's always were daydream believers
Leo's promised to put on the show
Dusty says you don't have to say you love her
And "The Beatles" say your mother should know

Rolf's still singing about his two little boys
While Mr Vaughn's behind his green door
The Osmond's say it will be the twelfth or never
When "The Beatles" are all sixty-four

Glen Campbell is still a rhinestone cowboy
And John Denver still sings Annie's song
Little Richard has great balls of fire
While "The Beatles" winding road is still long

Gary Barlow reckons he's found his angel
Elvis says not to be cruel
Des O'Conner says let's just pretend
As "The Beatles" are on the Hill with the fool

Don Gibson's still eating his American pie
While Shirley's big spender goes HEY!!!
Lulu from Glasgow is still going shout
While "The Beatles" sing "Yesterday"

Frank Sinatra has gone to New York-NewYork
While Dino's still drinking the wine
Olivia is singing "If not for you"
And "The Beatles" are still feeling fine.


okay so it may not be gut-wrenchingly funny but i thought its pretty good. now Paul, can you match that?

Poetry

Here's some ww1 poetry i don't know if you've all got it but...

Five Souls:

First SoulI was a peasant of the Polish plain; I left my plough because the message ran: - Russia, in danger, needed every man To save her from the Teuton; and was slain. I gave my life for freedom - This I know For those who bade me fight had told me so. Second SoulI was a Tyrolese, a mountaineer; I gladly left my mountain home to fight Against the brutal treacherous Muscovite; And died in Poland on a Cossack spear. I gave my life for freedom - This I know For those who bade me fight had told me so. Third SoulI worked in Lyons at my weaver's loom, When suddenly the Prussian despot hurled His felon blow at France and at the world; Then I went forth to Belgium and my doom. I gave my life for freedom - This I know For those who bade me fight had told me so. Fourth SoulI owned a vineyard by the wooded Main, Until the Fatherland, begirt by foes Lusting her downfall, called me, and I rose Swift to the call - and died in far Lorraine. I gave my life for freedom - This I know For those who bade me fight had told me so. Fifth Soul I worked in a great shipyard by the Clyde; There came a sudden word of wars declared, Of Belgium, peaceful, helpless, unprepared, Asking our aid: I joined the ranks, and died. I gave my life for freedom - This I know For those who bade me fight had told me so.

I'm not sure who this is by.

Suicide In The Trenches:

I KNEW a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
. . . .
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Sigfried Sassoon