Yes, you are worth more than diamonds or gold
You are worth more than rubies or sapphires I'm told
And all of it wrapped up in a sweet summer fold
Oh you are worth much more than diamonds or gold
You had a heart love, you had a heart I could love
And I had a part love, a bad part I played a black dove
I came down to your window, came down from above
For you had a heart love, you had a heart I could love
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Somewhere on the coast of Portland Bill:
A:" Look out the window, there's 3 million boats "
B: "3 million boats! 3 million boats!
They're coming, They're coming
The Armarda floats
With lots migrants on them"
They'll be crying
How much is that boat?
I want to buy one
I'm going to invade a British island
Oh row, row, row your boat
Immigrants looking for asylum
Here they come to breach our coast
land upon our island
It's the Empire of the migrant
Who wish to bring their need
To the door of the motherland
Of the commonwealth of greed
Look out you mothers, get your guns
And lock up your daughters
They are criminals on the run
Trying to dock in our waters
Throw down boiling oil
Castigate and slander
And in the press, charge the rest
With economics of a bystander
A: "No, no I said Look out the window
3 men in a boat"
B: "Oh, yes, that's nice isn't it
Thank goodness for that
Let's go out and great them"
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Oh Seagulls, seagulls,
You've gotta love us
Why'd you cry blue murder
And always try and mug us?
All we are are sailors souls
Looking for a harbour
Why don't you go and blow yourselves
We've bigger fish to labour
The Monks in their monastries
They know our deathly wails
We sing to them in the morning
As they hang out their white sails
But we will never surrender
To the likes of them or you
We are the mighty Seagulls
Come hear our Seagull crew
We Sing " Return to the mainland
Return me hearty lovers
Follow goose or the graceful plovers
Return I say to Cardiff bay
Return to Bristol Docks
We've been singing, our sea souls winging
Our heads upon the chopping blocks
So we came home to Cardiff bay,
Yes we came home to roost
And to eat kentucky fried chicken legs
Upon a harbour roof
And then we flew to Flat holm island
To brag to all our friends
About how we killed the chickens
And how we were as hard as them
But the only trouble is you see
We couldn't keep our legs
We kept walking around in circles
As if on some wooden pegs
It was Botulism did it
It was Botulism true
And so we kill and peck the eyes out
Of the weakest member in our Crew
Return, I say, return
Oh return my hearty lovers
Following the grey goose or
the graceful plovers
We'll be coming back to Cardiff Bay
We'll return to Bristol docks
Oh come see us when we say
Be afraid of the seagull flocks
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Now if the squids are on planet K2B
it's an interesting fact for the KGB
We'll be squids in
If you think you can wrestle a great sea monster
Oh bull fish or kraken
Or Sperm whale
Well make sure when you land a Giant Squid
That in the market sale you'll make a quid without fail
Oh Kalamari, Octopus
Or Polyp or Jellyfish
Medusa headed Eel woman
Snake fisted whisp
Put them all on the scale
Of the Market cross sale
But with a Giant Squid
You'll be quids in instead
Quids in, Quids in
Come and get your squids in
Rising from the darkest depths
Oh leave them alone my love hookers
With your barbed spears and good lookers
Find them in rings, or soft ocean springs
You'll be Squids in tonight
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
It's all an amalgam of a certain dismay
The braids of an album of your courtly way
The chains and the chagrin that turns us to grey
Don't fade, oh don't fade, no don't fade away
The love that we've known has been in buckets and spades
And love is a greasy pole we must all climb in our way
But choosing between you and the bright highway
Of I know, oh I know that I cannot stay, no I cannot stay
The stars in the night sky they've all gone away
The dust in the grain barns, the fields of clay
All of it's hardened to a mask made of hay
And now I'm the straw man, now I'm the straw man
Who must break in my way
Shoot through me sorrow, shoot through me wine
But I must now swallow the bitter pill that's mine
Yes I must bite the bullet and face up to the truth
That you'll never love me in a jacket that's bullet proof
Talk to me of hardships and stories untold
I've been given twelve lashes for stealing your gold
I borrowed it from the rainbow, because the rain was too cold
And the leprechaun didn't want it, he said it was sold
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I saw the legs of a super model in Dimmer dump
And the rump of a sacred cow
And the hide of a Buffalo
And the lights are getting dimmer
The load cannot wait
For we are all dumping
Down the road to Heaven's gate
I saw Naomi Campbell and Ricki Lake
I Saw Donald Trump in Dimmer Dump
His hair was grey and his goose was got
I saw the Loch Ness monster with her lump
All of it thrown out in Dimmer Dump
I wonder who turned out the lights
On Marylyn Monroe, who threw the javelin
On Achilles last throw, who was the weakest link
Who one day just had to go
Oh you can see them now in the Viking Thump
It's a hammer blow in Dimmer Dump
Don't hold on to your purse strings too tight
You never know when money may give up the fight
You don't know about plastic, metal or glass
Well we all eventually get recycled at the ass
And it's been a lot of hot air, it's inflated egos flat
It's the wind knocked out your sails
When you're wearing your favourite hat
And they'll throw you in leg first because that's the economic curse
And nothing really matters if your pump don't pump
You'll end up in tatters down at Dimmer Dump
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Magnolia blossoms fall down at my feet
Magnolia blossoms fill the late Shepton Street
Blooming in a figurine of pink and white
Falling like a higgs boson beyond the realm of light
Standing outside of time, this tree
Yet stands because standing is hour or minute free
Yet standing is tolled by eternity
And one day this tree will neither stand nor be
And so it sculpts out its life
And so it must create a beauty
Because all of its existence is quite tragic
And all we have is the magic
The magic of the here and now
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
farewell all you people
you moses of light
farewell you scare mongers
who hunger to fight
farewell non-believers on your road of flight
And leave me to sweet slumbers
and the roses of night
I've been where you're standing
and seen what you see
And it's not for one moment
that I'd swap places with thee
It's all just a grossness of blatant hypocrisy
So go where you're going and leave what's mine to me
Farewell the soothsayers
False prophets of light
When the true dawn breaks
Then it will overcome the night
And if what you're knowing
to you seems right
Well those are just dead seeds you're sowing
Which will never reach the light
Good night to your lands
And your lanterns of peace
Bring out the war bands
Let their fighting never cease
For the foreign lands engulf in flames that increase
With each profit margin bearing the mark of the beast
I hope to see this land
Once recover its soul
And it will do in our hands
When we make steel and coal
And once again can raise a flag
of our sovereign self-control
To determine our course as it stands
Beyond the turbid rigmarole
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
In the beginning, it was all light,
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
In olden times floss flowed freely through the countryside
Great rivers of the stuff as wide as the eye could ponder
And the people of the countryside, the poor folk
only had to shove their faces and their entire heads into the river to clean
Their teeth and wash out all the bad stuff and they all had bright shiny teeth
And didn't ever have to pay for dental care
But then one day climate change or else an evil king decided to turn off the source of the Floss
And we don't know where it is so that all could be found lying in the river bed or the marshes was this thin straggly string that folk inventively wound around bobbins and carried with them
Hence why now we have only this meagre reminder of what Floss once was.
The famous author George Eliot once wrote a tribute to the beauty and power of the Floss
Called Mill on the Floss which was in the days when the dental industry was so widely mechanized and industrialized they began making dental drills and tooth milling machines driven by it.
Please read it, it is interesting.
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Night Heron, night heron
Always in the shades
The black sunglasses
The black leather jacket aids
Riding around on your motorbike
You're as cool as a kid on the make if you like
Mending your triumph in the back of the pub
Going out later to the rock n' roll club
Night Heron, Night Heron
Always a rebel to the core
Build up your gang around street corners
Go round knocking on old folks' doors
Then you grow older
And like to start fights
Start carrying a blade on dark Friday nights
Black metal motorcycle club
Black metal heart there's the rub
Revving your engine down a Sunday street
Ruffling feathers if you know what I mean
The other fella's heavier he's tough and lean
But you've got an image to uphold it ain't clean
You've gotta get dirty and down in the mud
You'll never reach thirty, you're covered in blood
As you go droop-winged back to your nest
The black metal heart is not pumping the best
The dark metal shades are broken in two
And they hang from your beak, beaten black and blue
And there's blood in your eye and spit on your face
And your black metal wing is twisted out of place
But you know where you're going because you have to stay strong
You're going to the nightclub where they sing rock n' roll songs
Because you love to jive and dance to the beat
You're still the night heron that's walking the street
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.