A hellish encounter

[attila]

Just like Billy Bragg however he is sadly more successful

I'd say so. I think our place could fit into Bragg's GARDEN. Mind you, Beachy, he is an awful, awful lot more right wing than me

 

[Herr Tubthumper]

Don't give up the day job

I was thinking the opposite actually; I'm quite pleased with this and was wondering if I could take my song writing further.

 

[Beach Hut]

I was thinking the opposite actually; I'm quite pleased with this and was wondering if I could take my song writing further.

Actually I'll take that back much better than the OP

 

[Herr Tubthumper]

Actually I'll take that back much better than the OP

Thank you.

 

[Herr Tubthumper]

There was a green grocer who had a daughter
The UK's working class and society she did slaughter,
At the Ritz she had a bed,
She was going funny in the head,
But it was a stroke which finally did sort her.

 

[8ace]

Beret is a difficult word to rhyme with.

 

[Deleted User X18H]

There once was a young man from Hove
Who was given wonderful oppurutnities by jove.
He could make of himself , some kind of wealth.
With some effort and hard work? Not loathe.

 

[Kumquat]

There was a girl from Brighton
She was always lying
She told me she was happy
But she's in the bathroom crying.

 

[chimneys]

There once was a young man from Hove
Who was given wonderful oppurutnities by jove.
He could make of himself , some kind of wealth.
With some effort and hard work? Not loathe.

A poem about our beloved Tony Bloom! Dont forget also one of Thatcher's children Attila and where the hell would our club be without him?!

 

[MattBackHome]

I prefer "Do you weep, Mrs Thatcher, do you weep?"

I predict it will be a GCSE set text.

 

[hans kraay fan club]

A nation divided, now as then.

To him she was a witch, with a heart of pure stone
To them, a pin-up girl they wished they could clone
So while they see this as a time to mourn
Atilla will respond with prose of the sixth form.

 

[Leighgull]

I don't know what a Dilemma is.
I don't know what a dilemma is.
Die-Lem-a, dil-emma?
Midnight, all alone,
Everyone has gone.
In the Kitchenette,
I put the kettle on.
What comes bursting in?
A six foot, Thatcherite gorilla
Sex starved, raving mad shouting...
CALL ME KILLER,!
He grips me!
He strips me.
Phallus all a throb.
Shouting "where do you want it?, up the arse, or in the gob"

Now I know what a dilemma is.

 

[Leighgull]

Loving that this thread has allowed Brighton fans to publish their poetry. Well done Attila.

 

[GT49er]

riddled with grammatical errors!

Like, for instance, not starting with a capital letter?

 

[GT49er]

There was an old bag from Grantham,
Selling off council houses, snatching milk and screwing the working man was her anthem,
She was an evil witch,
Who had a stroke at The Ritz,
And at the weekend I shall crack open the champagne and drink some.

Good basic idea! Needs a little work on the scansion...............

 

[Mental Lental]

A HELLISH ENCOUNTER

The furnaces were roaring
With a foul and sulphurous smell
The damned were being tortured –
Just another day in Hell.
The air was full of ghastly screams
And soul-destroying moans
When above the dreadful clamour
Rose some shrill suburban tones…

‘So messy! And so smelly!
And so awfully, awfully hot!
And all you do is torture –
That puts nothing in the pot!
I’ll close down all your furnaces
Your unproductive ways
And build a brand new call centre –
A Purgatory that pays!’

The Devil dropped his pitchfork
And put on his coat and hat.
‘I don’t mind facing Jesus
But I can’t compete with that!’
But the damned and all the goblins
Pleaded ‘Lucifer, don’t go!’
Stay and help us in our fight -
Better the Devil that we know!’

So they voted him shop steward
And he led a demonstration
While Thatcher glared and tutted
In mad, impotent frustration.
Then they made some massive banners
In huge letters: ‘COAL NOT DOLE’!
‘NOT ONE SINGLE FURNACE CLOSURE!’
‘GO TO HEAVEN, TORY TROLL!’

Now Tomas de Torquemada
Held a centuries-old position
As editor of Hell’s newspaper:
The Daily Inquisition.
So Thatcher went to him and said
‘I need some press support.
It always does my bidding.
Here’s some text for your report!’

But Tomas said ‘Eees complicated -
‘Satan ees my mate!
You know I’ve serve him faithfully
Since 1498…’
So she yelled upstairs to Murdoch:
‘Rupert, time for you to die!
I need you down here urgently!’
But there was no reply.

Then the Devil came in glory
Brian Clough at his right hand
And in tones to shatter marble
Thundered: ‘Margaret, you are banned!
Hell’s a worker-run collective
Self-sufficient, closely-knit.
We don’t need your poxy meddling.
I condemn you to the pit!

But, first, I’ll reunite you
With the one you love the most.
He was hiding in the coal hole.
He was dressed up as a ghost.
Said he DIDN’T WANT to see you!
Said to PLEASE keep him away!
But you’re here now, aren’t you, Denis?
Bid your lady wife good day…..

They were loaded in the lift shaft
And soon they were gone from sight
And heading for an awful place
Of pain and endless night
And you’re not going to believe this
‘Twas such awful, rotten luck -
But half way down the endless pit
The Thatchers’ lift got stuck...

So fight for social justice
And build a better world
And bury her foul legacy
With red banners unfurled
And heed the final message
Of this cautionary verse
Or you could end up like Denis.

I can think of nothing worse.

 

[Herr Tubthumper]

There was an old witch who I did curse,
Very shortly she will be in a hearse,
It's a double win for me,
As she lies silently,
Because I have found my true talent which is verse.

 

[Herr Tubthumper]

Actually I'll take that back much better than the OP

The first one took me about 5 minutes but the last two just flowed. And it felt quite natural. I think I have found my true talent.

 

[Leighgull]

There was an old witch who I did curse,
Very shortly she will be in a hearse,
It's a double win for me,
As she lies silently,
Because I have found my true talent which is verse.

I think you might not.

 

[Giraffe]

Archer told me what a big Thatcher fan he was at one of our 'meetings'. Thatcher created the kind of world where *******s like Archer could thrive. Just to put my loathing in a football context, like.

Says the man that was good mates with Greg Stanley who introduced Bill Archer to the club....... a lot closer to the situation than Thatcher was!