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 Has It

 

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 Lurve’ states the brass-faced mare,

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

Abandon hope all who enter there

As she lures you into 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 Dinosaur 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

That when the party’s over it will end in blows.

©L. M. Roberts 2010

John Cooper Clark image by Nick Hider - with thanks

I’ve wrote a post about this poet HERE

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

My other poetry experiments;

Haiku: Three for March

Finding the words (freeverse)

Drowned in sound (dark)