The Kintyre Forum Poem ( First line)

[hugh]

It's all the same and it's all absurd
Karl Marx and the holy word
Das Kapital, Mein Kampf..all that ink
Just people telling others what to think.

[ionnsaigh]

It's all the same and it's all absurd
be it book film or word
fiction flies in face of fact
Jesus Stalin makes one act
Adolf Christ and bungaloo
stuns the like of me and you.

[ionnsaigh]

That wee boy kneeling in the chapel
trying hard tae speak tae God
tae say sorry fur crimes committed
this wee boy disnae want tae go tae hell
so he prays hard - where ur ye god am lookin
seeing you in thon smelly smoke drifting up
or ur ye oan the crucifix - Christ yer hard tae see
kin ye no see a wee boys tears
then the devil in the confession box - lurking
tae tell a wean - wae obvious glee
that their goin tae hell - tae face damnation
that auld god wrath never fails
trembling we fell - heids bowed eyes tightly shut.

[Govangirl]

Very potent Ionns, I liked that last image.


There is one universal truth we really can’t deny
It makes no sense to ask for any reason why
But man’s inhumanity to man is always much more base
When wickedness is carried out with a religious face

[ionnsaigh]

See that wean - the wan kneelin
the wid hard - covered in twisty knot
gid enuff fur wee sinners - an thief's
we wid dae a wee dance - tae find saft spot
the knee dictates - before blind worship
oon yer knees scum - feckin dirty beggers
scream fur gods mercy - his holy forgiveness
on yer knees - the poor folk - faw obligingly
to the commands of Church and God.

[ionnsaigh]

I watched as you stood
alone in the corner - my eyes drifted to your neck
a round bottom never to sag nor bend
fine lines atop a mop of dark brown plastic hair
large a voluminous full body - beckoned
temptingly hot - juices wet sticky - erupt in my mouth
hands quivering with anticipation - I drank deeply
passion pain - the ecstasy ejaculates within
coffee my love - Nescafe the sin.

[ionnsaigh]

I watched you struggle - wriggle worm wriggle - the wren boy fights
shaking your small head - from side to bloody side - a sad sorry sight
that manic Mum - eyes glaring and fixed - no smiles for Danny boy
the boots bottle so firmly held - in small puffy sweaty hands
being pushed - panic stuck - frozen I stood watching you ram
it down his mouth - between the bruised blue lips
or the times - the rag doll times - throwing you about
can it be denied - that you gave birth
as Mother night brings baby dawn
why not show some love - I forgot you can't - you don't know what love is
tenderness touch beyond you - Josh those dark dark days - neither washed nor dressed
naked your left bored - trashing your room - the toys beyond your reach
this afternoons crisps - litter the floor
she having a snooze - snores from next door

you the main attraction - within a little head
top up tan - trainers - hair extensions equals
a true loyal orange skank
devoid defunct dysfunctional and dead
all the things in Stacy's head.

[ionnsaigh]

Politics
Pretend passion pounce poor people prostitution power pimp
robbed raped regardless - a penny a ride - a shag for free
what makes you think your top of the tree - when underground roots supply thee
when a vote for you - is a vote for me
electoral elitist - a parliamentary aristocracy
you could never represent me - be you
Labour Tory or BNP

[EMDEE]

I wonder who's next in line for Poet Laureate? I liked the use af alliteration.

[ionnsaigh]

Alliteration - you and your big words - I had to look that one up .

[Pete Reek]

I wonder who's next in line for Poet Laureate? I liked the use af alliteration.

Doesn't seem worth the bother of putting in the big word if you make a mistake spelling the two letter one before it!!

[EMDEE]

I wonder who's next in line for Poet Laureate? I liked the use af alliteration.

Doesn't seem worth the bother of putting in the big word if you make a mistake spelling the two letter one before it!!

No.

[ionnsaigh]

Bang

Skin shredded - smoke singe scorch
trails from that torn rag
burning meat on butchers slab
white bone - blood spluttering
splatters screams - sinew spew and splinter
against tin car - wailing wall weeps
Taliban laugh as Mothers mourn .

[EMDEE]

MODERN POETRY

Dedicated to those who have built a grossly inflated literary reputation through the writing of “poetry” in the modern non-rhyming, non-metrical, non-descript style.

I used to think that poetry, like music, had its rules,
And that’s what made the art of it a study in our schools,
The skill in writing poems was the knack to make them scan,
But all the rules appear to have been flushed right down the pan.

It once was normal practice that a poem was like a song,
But it doesn’t seem to matter now if lines are short or long,
The length of line’s irrelevant, likewise the bloody rhyme,
The modern style of “poetry” is just a bloody crime.

The use of punctuation is an evanescent skill,
In my schooldays its absence would achieve a mark of nil,
But it has seemed to vanish like the snow upon the dyke,
In words of Norman Tebbit it has now “got on its bike”.

This brings me on to capitals, why are they now so rare?
They have their proper places, or have we just ceased to care?
In many poems now we only see the lower case,
The capitals have disappeared without apparent trace.

I’ve sometimes heard a poem read to mark a big event,
And thought “That’s prose pretending to be something that it ain’t”,
Why can’t these poets write in verse that we can recognise,
Instead of writing tripe that would deserve the booby prize?

Where is the skill in writing prose without a rhyme in sight?
Arranging it in lines to look like poems-it’s not right!
Maybe they’re not capable of writing proper verse,
And what we get’s like something that has just come oot their erse!

They seem to be prolific, there’s no need to wonder why,
You can write this stuff in reams without the need to even try,
With quantity, not quality, they aim to have success,
But most of this stuff shouldn’t even reach the printing press.

With all these gripes you’d wonder why I read the modern stuff,
I don’t, but if I do I find it just a load of guff,
I think, “Why fob us off with such an effluent as this,
And all the rules of poetry so flagrantly dismiss?"

So let us hope that one day poetry will be restored,
And all these “modern” writings will from that day be ignored,
And maybe when this drivel is discarded, dead and gone,
We all will realise we’ve been the victims of a con.

EMDEE

[Pete Reek]

Brilliant Emdee

Have to say I agree with you about poetry, but everyone has there own opinions. Some stuff just seems to be a jumble of words flung into the air, and where they land is called "poetry".