Poetry Is A Bit 'girlie'

Do you think that poetry is a bit 'girlie'?

  • Yes

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • No

    Votes: 0 0.0%
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Here's a poem I wrote once -

Horse and cart, why oh why.
Dance, but no ice cream?
Can it? No, or maybe yes.
Give the rain, don't call out in green.

Slip, slip, it seems a while
Hamburgers in a tin, never guessing
Free the sofa, grab it? Oh sure.
Star in? Star out? Star up!

Hope you enjoyed it. :D
 
Baldrick:


"Hear the words I sing,
War's a horrid thing,
But still I sing, sing, sing,
Ding a ling a ling."
 
Look, this is supposed to be a sensibly-argued debate on whether poetic works are a 'bit girly' or not. Those of you debasing an intellectual exercise with doggerel, nonsense rhyme and juvenile witterings should go back to your Beanos and Enid Blytons and leave the cultural heavyweights on here to what is a serious matter, which has far-reaching ramifications for Civilization as we know it.




There was an old man from Hong Kong
Who had an enormous great dong.
When he lay in his bed
(Or so it is said)
It reached all the way to Saigon.
 
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupoboard
To get poor Rover a bone
When she bent over, Rover took over
And gave her a bone of his own.
 
simply in order to "appear" intellectual
Click to expand...

Wow, no one's ever labelled me an intellectual before - in fact, one of the reasons my husband went was because I'm not one.... !

Does doing 'A' level Eng Lit make one a literati, then???? B)


An - if you can't get a good one-liner from that last sentence, you're banned!
 
Ah, BtB: what a brilliant wit. Can't remember his stuff off-hand, but one phrase I love using (and noting that no-one catches on) is one I think he used when referring to some idiotic celeb of the day: "It went in one head, and out the other."
 
My mates and I are big fans; there is a Nash poem for many situations.

I can't remember the title, but something like "Ode to a Petrol Pump Attendant", goes like this:

I wanted her soft verges,
But she gave me the cold shoulder.

He is also Bertie Wooster's favourite poet, which is good enough for me.

You can also use his name as cockney rhyming slang for going to the toilet:

I'm going for an Ogden Nash = I'm going for a slash.
 
Since Brian is absent at the moment, allow me to assume the Mantle of Pedantry and say that you can use his name as rhyming slang, but Cockernee it ain't, guv, 'cos it didn't begin its' life in the East End, it's too modern, etc. There are modern changes to what was real Cockney rhyming slang, I believe. The traditional Berkshire Hunt has been updated to James Hunt, I hear. It's a shame, since the insult 'berk' implied the rest of the name and its' even ruder meaning. To use 'berk' now without understanding its' roots is a sad loss to regional linguistics.
 
ODE TAE A FART BY FAIR BURNS THE NOO

OH What a sleakit horrible beastie
Lurks in yer belly after the feastie
Just as ye sit doon among yer Kin
There starts tea stir an enormous wind.

The neeps and tatties and mushie peas
Start working like a gentle breeze.
But soon the pudding wi the sauncie face Will have ye blawin all ower the place

Nae matter what the hell ye dae
A'body's gonna have tae pay
Even if ye try tae stifle
It's like a bullit oot a rifle.

Hawd yer bum tight tae the chair
Tae try tae stop the leakin air.
Shivy yersel fae cheek tae cheek
Prae to god it disnae reek.

But aw yer efforts are rent assunder
Oot it comes like a clap o thunder,
Richochets aroon the room

Michty me! A sonic boom.

Through yer breeks it comes a seepin
Jes like haggis, warm an rich an reekin.

God Almighty it fairly reeks
Hope I huvnae sheet ma breeks,
Tae the bog ae had better scurry...
Aw what the hell its nae ma worry.

A'body arron aboot me a fairly chokin
One or two are nearly bokin,
I'll feel better in a while
Cannae help but raise a smile.


Wis him! I shoot with accusing glower
Alas Too late, he's jes keeled ower,
Ye dirty bugger they shout and stare.
I dinnae feel welcome any mair

Where ere ye go let yer wind gan free
Sounds like jes the job for me,
Whit a fuss at Rabbie's party
Ower the sake o one wee farty
 
girlymap.gif
 
I'm not sure, Ardross. That looks like the sort of map that would've stopped me getting a third of the way to Brum (when I lived in Staffs) instead of visiting my cousin in Cheshire! And on another occasion, accompanied by the Ancient Mater: "Jon, are you SURE we should be near Warrington?" :confused: I'm beginning to think my limitations are even more limited than I like to think...
 
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