There once was a player called Hasselbaink
Signed by a donkey, and to be frank
Try as he might
He really was shite
If fact he was a complete load of wank...
[cite]Posted By: Miserableold-ish git[/cite]Preferred the old Title......
;-)
:-)
I thought as the Sam Bartram statue had been up a while someone would have already posted the poem although a quick search showed nothing. Hence my original title.
Limericks aint easy Red....to be super critical you are missing two beats in the last line which you could quite easily rectify with a little bit of extra thought.
[cite]Posted By: SoundAsa£[/cite]Limericks aint easy Red....to be super critical you are missing two beats in the last line which you could quite easily rectify with a little bit of extra thought.
There once was a player called Hasselbaink Signed by a donkey, and to be frank Try as he might He really was shite If fact he was a complete load of wank He then rode his fat arse off to a bank, While the rest of the poor bloody club sank.
I forget the particular poetic phrase but the added rhyming cuplet, could be added, perhaps we could enter this for an art's council grant
from the Bard of Bexley....... WHAT IS A BARD? "And there are among them composers of verses whom they call Bards; these singing to instruments similar to a lyre, applaud some, while they vituperate others." Diodorus Siculus Histories 8BCE
[cite]Posted By: SoundAsa£[/cite]Limericks aint easy Red....to be super critical you are missing two beats in the last line which you could quite easily rectify with a little bit of extra thought.
There was a bloke from Bexley called Ken
Who read my poem and then
Thinking he's a poet
(He's not but don't know it)
Add two extra lines fcuking it right up and then goes on to take the piss by talking a load of bards when really he should go out and get a job and stop ruining the work of proper poets like what I am...
There once was a player called Hasselbaink Signed by a donkey, and to be frank Try as he might He really was shite If fact he was a complete load of wank He then rode his fat arse off to a bank, While the rest of the poor bloody club sank Being Dutch, I am told he liked a bit of Skank As a tv pundit he really was J arthur rank In fact the tv critics thought he stank, God forgive Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink......
Thank god my time at Sherrington school was not wasted!.... Daniel Day-Lewis Father thought I had some talent,.....but the call of graphic design was where my true talents lay, a humble 'artist' to embelish the country's reading matter!
Oh forgot to add this is to the same metre as "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards" . which of course Red Zed would have recognised!
That is what I thought .... Poet Laureate, anyway we had a lad at the school called Lionel De la Mer, and as Dave Rudd know's his football was like 'poetry in motion'......
Walter John de la Mare (pronounced /ˈdɛləmɛər/[1]), OM CH (25 April 1873 – 22 June 1956) was an English poet, short story writer and novelist, probably best remembered for his works for children and "The Listeners". He was born in Kent (at 83 Maryon Road, Charlton[2], now part of the London Borough of Greenwich), descended from a family of French Huguenots, and was educated at St Paul's Cathedral School.
Now if you lived in the cultural wastelands of Charlton this man stands like a becon his view....... "Children are, in short, visionaries." This visionary view of life can be seen as either vital creativity and ingenuity, or fatal disconnection from reality (or, in a limited sense, both).
As I said earlier..... "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards"
[cite]Posted By: ken from bexley[/cite]That is what I thought .... Poet Laureate, anyway we had a lad at the school called Lionel De la Mer, and as Dave Rudd know's his football was like 'poetry in motion'......
Walter John de la Mare (pronounced /ˈdɛləmɛər/[1]), OM CH (25 April 1873 – 22 June 1956) was an English poet, short story writer and novelist, probably best remembered for his works for children and "The Listeners".
He was born in Kent (at 83 Maryon Road, Charlton[2], now part of the London Borough of Greenwich), descended from a family of French Huguenots, and was educated at St Paul's Cathedral School.
Now if you lived in the cultural wastelands of Charlton this man stands like a becon his view.......
"Children are, in short, visionaries." This visionary view of life can be seen as either vital creativity and ingenuity, or fatal disconnection from reality (or, in a limited sense, both).
As I said earlier..... "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards"
Huguenots...?
Now I can see why Daniel Defoe described Charlton as:
'A village famous, or rather infamous for the yearly collected rabble of mad-people, at Horn-Fair; the rudeness of which I cannot but think, is such as ought to be suppressed, and indeed in a civiliz'd well govern'd nation, it may well be said to be unsufferable....'
Comments
http://www.footballpoets.org/p.asp?Id=25619
http://www.footballpoets.org/p.asp?Id=2
Should re-title this thread Len......
There once was a player called Hasselbaink
Signed by a donkey, and to be frank
Try as he might
He really was shite
If fact he was a complete load of wank...
;-)
:-)
I thought as the Sam Bartram statue had been up a while someone would have already posted the poem although a quick search showed nothing. Hence my original title.
It's a stanza...
There once was a player called Hasselbaink
Signed by a donkey, and to be frank
Try as he might
He really was shite
If fact he was a complete load of wank
He then rode his fat arse off to a bank,
While the rest of the poor bloody club sank.
I forget the particular poetic phrase but the added rhyming cuplet, could be added, perhaps we could enter this for an art's council grant
from the Bard of Bexley....... WHAT IS A BARD?
"And there are among them composers of verses whom they call Bards; these singing to instruments similar to a lyre, applaud some, while they vituperate others."
Diodorus Siculus Histories 8BCE
Egh???
Who read my poem and then
Thinking he's a poet
(He's not but don't know it)
Add two extra lines fcuking it right up and then goes on to take the piss by talking a load of bards when really he should go out and get a job and stop ruining the work of proper poets like what I am...
(ok, so the last line doesn't rhyme...)
Getting lazy now man
Signed by a donkey, and to be frank
Try as he might
He really was shite
If fact he was a complete load of wank
He then rode his fat arse off to a bank,
While the rest of the poor bloody club sank
Being Dutch, I am told he liked a bit of Skank
As a tv pundit he really was J arthur rank
In fact the tv critics thought he stank,
God forgive Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink......
Thank god my time at Sherrington school was not wasted!....
Daniel Day-Lewis Father thought I had some talent,.....but the call of graphic design was where my true talents lay, a humble 'artist' to embelish the country's reading matter!
Oh forgot to add this is to the same metre as "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards" . which of course Red Zed would have recognised!
He knows nothing...
Walter John de la Mare (pronounced /ˈdɛləmɛər/[1]), OM CH (25 April 1873 – 22 June 1956) was an English poet, short story writer and novelist, probably best remembered for his works for children and "The Listeners".
He was born in Kent (at 83 Maryon Road, Charlton[2], now part of the London Borough of Greenwich), descended from a family of French Huguenots, and was educated at St Paul's Cathedral School.
Now if you lived in the cultural wastelands of Charlton this man stands like a becon his view.......
"Children are, in short, visionaries." This visionary view of life can be seen as either vital creativity and ingenuity, or fatal disconnection from reality (or, in a limited sense, both).
As I said earlier..... "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards"
Now I can see why Daniel Defoe described Charlton as:
'A village famous, or rather infamous for the yearly collected rabble of mad-people, at Horn-Fair; the rudeness of which I cannot but think, is such as ought to be suppressed, and indeed in a civiliz'd well govern'd nation, it may well be said to be unsufferable....'
It all makes sense now...