Johnny Rhymes

A very short post today (day 5 in the blog everyday on bookstains challenge) and I make no apology for featuring another John Cooper Clarke poem.  He is one of my favorite poets and has featured in a few posts of mine. 

A little bit of Burnley

This one is called  ‘I don’t want to go to Burnley’ and the poet very cleverly rhymes Northern towns – sometimes with the most incongruous words (yes I’m talking to you Elsa Lanchaster!)  I went to Burnley for the first time the other week – and it was great by the way!  I certainly don’t think the poet meant any offence to the towns mentioned (at least I think he didn’t )

Elsa Lanchaster

Vidoe by herrloop with thanks

Elsa Lanchester image from here

Burnley images taken last week

‘Things are gonna get worse’ – So now you know

Just when I think that things just have to get better, and they couldn’t possibly be any worse along comes the Salford bard John Cooper Clarke with his ‘Things are gonna get worse poem’.  This poem puts it all into hilarious perspective   Love this man’s poetry!

Poem: Her Facebook has it

 

 

 

John Cooper Clarke

 

I wrote this poem the other day.  I had been listening to the wonderful Salford poet John Cooper Clarke and thought I would try to emulate his style….(as if!)  I have used Facebook as a theme because whenever I go there, I am always fascinated by the massive amount of ‘friends’ people seem to have.  Anyone can apply to be a ‘friend’ , some don’t even know who these ‘freinds’ are!   Some of the profile pictures are hilarious – I’ve even seen Hitler as someones profile picture.  The other thing about Facebook is that people are such liars about themselves, it’s a kind of ‘anything goes’ place.  So that was where the inspiration came from and this is what happened:-

Her Facebook page is on your screen            

 suppress that smirk

as you watch her preen

Her day-glo ass like a tangerine

The Clockwork Orange of a nasty dream

 

The grinning mass of her airbrushed face

A sickly mask hiding her disgrace

Talk about arsenic and very old lace

She’s there for the kill – forget the chase

 

‘Looking for Love’ states the brass-faced mare

(and any old cash that you’ve got to spare)

Abandon hope all who enter there

And be careful when she lures you to her bijou lair . 

 

 3000 ‘friends’ joining in the game

Even Pope John Paul’s in her hall of fame

A barefaced liar that feels no shame

The greasy embers of a burnt out flame

 

Ten years younger than her Dinasaur age

A Terrorhawk wonder  on the rampage

Every profile picture – a darker shade of beige

Click  to see her boogie on a makeshift stage 

 

Throwing back Sambuca’s in dramatic pose

Strutting like an ostrich in her too tight clothes

Such a party person but here’s one who knows

When the party’s over it will end in blows

 ©L. M. Roberts

 

I’ve wrote a post about this poet HERE

But for a look at the ‘Master’ in action – and how it should be done click Here and enjoy!

My other poetry experiments;

Haiku: Three for March

Finding the words (freeverse)

Drowned in sound (dark)