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This is a Post I am Making

This first one is in response to ‘Dover Beach’ by Matthew Arnold.

 

Life is a Beat

 

The sea is on a good diet

of algae and ambition

         while the

The moon provides light for

    careless campers

but in the Land of Baguettes, they

            refuse

casting shadows on the fish and chip shop

          shining light

but only on a cod’s runny batter

          it’s apparent

that a crackling fire cannot out-shout the waves

        they’ve got a date

      with whoever is dead

Some man who would have been old

        had he been alive

owned a pair of ears that Morrissey would have been

               proud of

I have faith in the water you drown in;

               the fact

it is deserved for writing such ghastly

            ego bumpers

putting you at ‘one’ with nature; nature

          couldn’t care less

about you and your want for recognition

         as it destroys man

and womankind with its wind, sea

         and what have you

Oh, you nagging hag!

           Let us split up

For there’s a world with a hunchback

         Before we see the

Famine is rife, which is

     Various, ugly and cruel

Full of pain, loneliness and stinging wasps

There’s peace for us in the dentist’s waiting room.

Keys an’ All That

I’ve got the key
Aw, it’s a key
Ooh la la, I’ve got a key
Aw, I love keys
KEYS!
Aw, the key to LIFE
Aw, the key to this, the key to that
I just love keys
Aw, KEYS
It was such a key
Keys are just so bloody good and handy
Opening bloody doors for they are bloody KEYS
Aw, keys, how I love thee
Excuse me whilst I cringe and vomit
Right, BACK to the…
Where were we…? AH, YES
KEYS!
Ooh, KEYS
Keys BLOODY keys
Richard Keys
Aw, the key is in your hands
We are at one with the KEY
Aw, keys
It was such a key
KEYS, KEYS, KEYS and more BLOODY KEYS!
Keys are so handy when YOU’RE
Opening the door for an internally processed
biological output form of poetry.
That’s a KEY point
Aw, keys
They’re so cute and charming
Aw, KEYS.
KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS, KEYS
Aw, KEYS!
Up the key wee’s
How I love key.

Pretend Pretensions for People of a Pre-Pubescent Mind

Give me no more notifications;
I can’t take anymore.
I’m drowning in the blood
That’s spurted and created rivers
From your heart nearly every
Sodding day.
All of the pages
In the book of fakes
Could not soak it up;
The stuff that is as
Red as my face
When it has set its eyes
On your words.
Well, frankly Mr. Shankly,
I didn’t realise you wrote…

℗ & © 2011 RICKY MURRAY

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