National Poetry Month.

Thursday, 29 January 2015

Feminist child.

Oh look mummy, a feminist
My boyfriend said they’re bad
he says that they all hate us boys
and finds it very sad

He says that us girls should all work
look after their boyfriends
and always do what they are told
to be there to attend

He makes me work all day long
he always nicks my sweets
He breaks my silly girlie toys
and killed my budgie Tweet.

But I myself do think it’s cool
and cannot wait to join
so then I can speak my mind
and kick him in the groan.

A modern Admiral.


Please some time to read the links below
The truth about Britian first.

Or why not come and say hello on
Exposing Britain First

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Sods law.

He stands in my yard the sun shines down
that lovely man with hair deep brown
with white shirt as tight as skin.
The man who empties my Wheelie bin.

His eyes pierce blue deep as the sea
I watch him drink his mug of tea
A biscuit, I offer with gentle grace
longing of course for his embrace
For him to swoop me in his arms
and give me all his sexual charms
he smiles at me, I go all red
I long to take him to my bed.
Cheers for the tea his voice is low
It’s really time that I should go
I long for him to stay evermore
to lead him through my door

Does he know? I wonder, wanting
he leans to me, is he now flaunting?
He face near mine, his lips apart
a beat now skips within my heart

He smiles and takes me by the waist
Will I now feel his love embrace
to speak! Words, he will now say.
Sorry love, afraid I’m gay……

And that is sods law….

Sunday, 11 January 2015


When talking to yourself you must say ‘one.’
One must talk to yourself, because it sounds fun

how odd

Today I did a jigsaw puzzle
and I swear the man in it looked like
the old president bush in a bright woollen hat.

Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Help for Louise.

Can I ask a favour of all of my followers to give Help for Louise
And sign this so she and her husband can be together.

So many families are pulled apart. Lets help bring them together again.

Sunday, 14 December 2014

And now for a stupid poem about Santa. Welllll....its Cristmoss

He drinks and drives on yuletide nights
And give them owls a right old fright
He only works one day a year
and down the chimney he will appear

You let him come into your home
and let him watch your kids alone
To wonder if they do deserve
a gift from him, oh what a perv!
His workers are all short and stout
Ho ho ho he likes to shout
They never get a luncheon break
and always made to stay awake

he whips his deer with reins of leather
Even in the stormy weather
They all work hard pulling his sleigh
pleading for the R.S.P.C.A