Crap Poetry – Cup of Tea

The Cup of Tea by Stegzy Gnomepants

Oh tea
rosy-lea
Tea
You hot brown liquid of contentment
You that taunt me with your fiery heat
You that doth callest me to imbibe
To savour your sweetened juice

Oh tea
Mock not me with your heat of denial
I should leave you to cool
But then a fool you would make of me
For thou wouldst be too cold
And dull
And sickly

Oh tea
Ravish me! Burn my gullet and gut
I cannot resist
I raise my wrist
And swallow you whole
Yea you doth give me bliss
Serenity

Oh tea

February: feeble poetry

Go away
Februarey
Nobody likes you at all
You’re far too short
and grey
Go away
Februaray
If I could cut you out
of the year I would
But I cant
So
I
have
to put up
with you
Just dont duplicate
Like you did
In 1978
February
You suck

Heat

Dry as a bone
Comfortable as a throne
Made of stone

Humid and sweaty
But cold I am not
The weather has become
Unbearably hot

Plants are wilting
The cat is tilting
As it lounges about in
the heat

My shirt is all damp
I smell like a tramp
And the heat haze shimmers
on the road

But it wont last forever
Because heat waves
They never
Go on for too long over here

But lo! What’s the matter?
A crash
A flash
A patter
Of rain
On the conservatory roof

The rain it rushes
Through the gutter it gushes
And gone in an instant
The heat

The Monster in the Wardrobe

monsterThere’s a monster in the bedroom
You don’t want to anger
It lives inside the wardrobe
And dines on your coat hanger

The wife she thinks I’m crazy
The neighbour he just mocks
I’m fairly certain the monster
Occasionally eats my socks

It snacks on your shirt buttons
And feasts on underwear
I thought this warning
To you, I should give and share

Beware the bedroom monster
It will eat all your clothes
Scoff the sCarf and mittens
You keep for when it snows

Munch on ties and slippers
Crease your shirts and troos
Feast on coats and jackets
Nibble upon your shoes

Watch out for the bedroom monster
As you make the bed
These things to you won’t happen
If you keep your clothes in the shed.

 

 

The Binmen

binHere come the men to take
Away the rubbish that I make
The clutter I want tossed onto the heap
In orange bibs they’re dressed
Slung casual o’er their vest
With Daventry District Council
Writ ‘cross their van

They make an awful racket
But take home a tidy packet
To spend on treats and holidays abroad
They hoist up the bins
Onto the lorry’s rear pins
Which empties their contents
In to the void

In will go the shoes
The empty bottles of booze
The boxes and detritus from the sink
The mouldy old kipper
A half chewed slipper
And all the things that really
Start to stink

Then down the street they’ll go
In rain or sleet or snow
And take away the waste from the house
The truck gets emptied out
The socks, the box and trout
To end their days as debris
In the ground

The Office Goblin (A Poem)

goblinI am the office goblin
I live under your desk
I eat up all your paper clips
And I like to look grotesque

I pinch and hide your stapler
I break your pencil tips
I move your paperwork about
And snaffle bulldog clips

I am he that Wipes your white board
He that alters your chair
Deleting important computer files
Especially when you’re not there

I leave crusty bits in your collegue’s mug
And push the blame on you
Put finger marks on your monitor
And leave the lids off glue

I am the office goblin
Treat me good and right
Keep a look out for me
When you head off home tonight

Postman (a poem)

postieI sit and wait for you to come
To the door
I sit and wait for letters to drop
Onto the floor

Some times you’re early
But you’re never late
I suspect you’re quite burly
By how you shove the gate

Giros, postcards
And bills
Letters, death threats
and thrills

Parcels,
Junkmail
Fingers
Squashed snails

Greetings
Cheques
Bleatings
Mail order keks1

None of it
For me.
Because this is not my house
You see
For I am the burglar


1 Keks = trousers

The milkman – A poem

milkman1
There is a man
He is quite cheery
Every morning
When my eyes are bleary

He comes up the path
Whistling a tune
Be it Dark November
July or June

In his hand are bottles
White and creamy
He delivers the milk
While I’m still dreamy

Juice and eggs
He does too
Loaves of bread
Things to chew

He drives with stealth
And boundless care
Laden with bottles
That tinkle and flare (in the sunlight)

Tinkle tinkle
Tinkle tinkle
Tinkle tinkle
Tinkle tinkle

Milko is here!
Hark and waken!
Semi-skimmed, homogenised
Fresh things and bacon

Full cream, half cream
Soya milk too
I bet if you asked him
He’d sell you some glue

Whistling his tune
His bottles a-clinking
With milk on my cereal
I can do some thinking

I love our milkman
Though not in “that” sense
But he brightens my morning
As he walks past the fence

 

Hot days Poem

Hot Days by Stegzy Gnomepants

I know I shouldn’t look
When I’m walking down the street
But when they’re in my face
I can’t just look at feet

They’re out there in vast numbers
Proud and volumous
But I swear I wasn’t looking
Just I thought I saw my bus

Cos if I stumbled blindly
Arms stretched, felt where I go
I’m sure I’d walk into them
And this you’d say I know

“Look where you’re going weirdo”
“You cant walk round like that”
“You stand their with your beard-o”
“I think you are a twat”

And then you’d punch and kick me
And push me to the ground
So I’ll walk with my eyes open
And see them nice and round

Ah thank you.