Category Archives: Sport

The Animal Games

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It’s Olympics time! I’m not really a big fan of watching (or participating in) sport, but even I enjoy the Olympics coverage. A chance to see events like diving and gymnastics that aren’t  always on the telly is really exciting!

This isn’t a particularly original poem, as the idea of animals doing Olympics has been done many times before. But hey, I want to do it too. I’m not entirely sure where this animal Olympics is set as I’m terrible at geography but, judging by the fact that Penguins are the host and going by the kinds of animals in attendance, I’m guessing either the North Pole or the South Pole. Someone help me out.

This is one of my earlier poems, which is an excuse I won’t be able to use for much longer as I exhaust my backlog of poetry and can only post new ones. Also, my sincerest apologies for the picture on this one which appears to feature a demonic penguin, a slug/seal hybrid, and an owl getting shot in the head (a narwhal).

The Animal Games

Black and white penguins
Emperor, Gentoo
The very best penguin Olympics I’ve been to
The salmon were sliming
With excellent timing
If you’ve not yet grinned, you’ll begin to

Silvery seals
Dragged from the ocean
Saddled by penguins, they cause a commotion
Then ride round a peg
Playing catch with an egg
Considered the quirkiest notion

Warbling walruses
Skewering eskimos
Flee from the water where killer whale Billy blows
Blustering birds
All gathered in herds
Think it the greatest of shows

The cold sun shines down
On the wondrous event
Each gang in the tourny, their banners present
Each animal group
Every team, every troupe
Then back to their burrows they’re sent

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This bee is busy practicing for the bugnastics

Onto The Ice

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Over the Christmas holiday, I visited my girlfriend in Yorkshire for a few days. Despite the fact that neither of us had been anywhere near an ice rink in years, we decided that ice skating was a good idea. It was all very jolly and funny for a while, but things soon took a very painful turn.

I rather dramatically fell onto my bum and bruised my tailbone. I’m sure it was very funny to watch but it still hurts to sit down nearly 2 weeks later. I should clarify before you read this poem that, so far as I know, I haven’t actually broken anything but I like to exaggerate things for comedic effect.

Onto The Ice

I’ve got cold feet I thought, as we stepped onto the ice
Some weasel face went weaving right between us with a slice
I slithered on in horror as my legs went weak and numb
But I never would have dreamed I was about to break my bum

The sliding scene was carnage, children tumbled to the floor
And I’m sure my buttocks quivered like they knew what lay in store
I longed for some way out of it, but knew it wouldn’t come
But still I had no inkling that I’d shortly break my bum

A group of fellow amateurs were huddling round the side
They hauled themselves around by hand, not caring for their pride
They stumbled out in front of me, collapsing in a scrum
I wobbled, but it wasn’t this that broke my tender bum

A flurry of obnoxiousness flung ice into my eyes
But the warden went on drifting, unresponsive to my cries
I never had seen such a hive of villainy and scum
But the straw that broke the camel’s back? The ice that broke my bum

The moment came so suddenly, I slipped and tumbled back
I flailed in desperation before landing with a crack
The shockwave shook my body, I sat dribbling and dumb
Then screamed in abject agony, and clasped my broken bum

You dragged me to the barrier and begged me not to shout
But I cried that if I stood up all my insides would fall out
A waddling toddler sniggered seeing me looking so glum
As I slowly rose onto my feet and off my broken bum

Impromptu colonoscopies and mercifully rare
But the pain that wracked my buttcrack was far more than I could
I hobbled off the ice rink, my face bright as a plum
But I couldn’t use the benches, couldn’t strain my broken bum

Some injuries are proudly worn, the stories often spread
If fatal, well at least we say nice things about the dead
A sprained wrist or a fractured leg might earn a hug from Mum
But you never get much sympathy when it’s a broken bum

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Yorkshire. A treat for the eyes, the bane of my bum

Every Sandwich Swims a Little Further

Further Use

 

I wrote this poem last year after playing with a sandwich. That’s it really.

Every Sandwich Swims a Little Further

Every sandwich swims a little further
Further than the one who blazed the trail
But even in the darkest dreams to trouble me at night
I never thought the sandwiches could fail

With every turn the sandwiches grow weaker
They reach out pitifully to the sky
And by the Serpentine in old Hyde Park
I sadly stood and watched each sandwich die

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The Sandwiches London 2012 Synchronised                          Swimming team