Up-market rhyming blog

Jolly Roger, one the regular correspondents' to this blog, always expresses him/herself in rhyme. All five responses to the recent ‘Bad Medicine'  posting were in rhyming couplets. Would the value of the comments be improved if I banned all prose and introduced an all rhyme rule?

The thread did not mention ‘Bad Medicine’ but meandered from the Royal Oath to the Smoking ban. Rising to the elevated tone, my contribution imitated the doggerel. Is this the way to propel the blog even further up-market?

Now, when I put my cynical hat on.
I think of the poor who are constantly shat on.
GM may give us worldwide salvations.
But I then think of the African Nations,
Where starvation's frequently done by might.
In this case it's easily done by sleight.
Dissenting folks can be brought into compliance.
By the application of this culinary science.

Oh, by the way Huw, if you're actually reading.
Thanks for the compliment, I must be succeeding,
You describe my verses as no less than third rate.
Believe me Huw, That's a compliment, mate.
I've always thought they were tenth rate, surely?
Believe me, it's not easy to write this poorly.
Posted by: Jolly Roger | August 14, 2008 at 10:22 PM


Jolly Roger, your posts are inspired
Many a bead must have you perspired
For on this and those issues too plenty to mention
You shoehorn the rhymes but still ask a good question.

On Doggerel Bank must your ship have alighted
In view of the land where the GM's been sited
A mutant poetical gene then escaped
Affecting ol' Jolly and I, his shipmate.
Posted by: Basil Brown | August 15, 2008 at 12:09 AM

Avast there Cap'n Basil, heave to and berth up,
Whilst I have a sip from my Tetley filled cup.
Lash up your bollards, and stow your anchor.
Some folks have rhymed me with Doggerel Banker.
We all call in and have a good grumble and grouse.
But to be quite fair, Paul keeps a good house.
We rarely agree with him, that's a dead cert,
And at the end of the day there's not too much hurt.

His latest postings re: drugs and tobaccy
Have drawn out some comments both serious and wacky.
And 'though there's a conflict in many a posting.
We can all say thanks Paul, thanks for the hosting.
There's not many MPs who deal with we minions.
But at least he hears our conflicting opinions.
I've now got the solution to the drugs/baccy sizzler.
Let's ditch the fags and break out the Rizla.
Posted by: Jolly Roger | August 15, 2008 at 01:27 AM



I give as I get and I get as I give
But slurring an oppo as funded by cigs?
I'll say it's not cricket, nor Queensbury rules
To suggest either that or we're brain-damaged fools

Well Jolly, I realise I've stoked up some fuss
More than accused him of bein' a cuss
Irascible buggers, that's he and that's me
Up the old ante and dig in the heels

Then after it all, it's just politics innit
I'll soon flame the Tories when they go and winnit
For liberal-lily's my natural home
And the Tory I ballot is only on loan

[That said, I've a weakness for dear Johnny Major
Despite my dischuff when he flogged off t' railway
His leathery willowy idyll I share
And after our Margaret, he did seem to care]

Oh I am but a singer of topical song
Whose voice will be small when the pubs are all gone
My words can be harsh and that's oft the intent
But personal slander seldom if e'er meant

So Paul, if you'd just print a headline-retraction?
For freedom 2 choose is not freedom 2 poison
It's somewhere for you and it's somewhere for me
Choices as adults in a deemocracee
Posted by: Basil Brown | August 16, 2008 at 02:53 AM


Smoker’s Lament

My cancer-stick, I love and hate
Both to and fro I cogitate,
Without a drag, I fret and rage,
But death will call at early age

With guilt and blush, I suck the weed
Deep, deep inside, the endless need,
If only I could force the will
My cup of joy would soon fill

Smokers bear the mark of Cain,
Spurned and exiled to the rain,
Huddled addicts plot and curse
Told to FO in language terse

Rage, rage, nothing to lose
We'll invent Freedom to Choose,
We’ll plot to end the foul ban
And plague MPs, all we can

MPs, firm in word and brain,
Tell smokers to desert the rain,
'Desist from annoying folks
Try a taste of smokeless tokes'

The group-grope squalor of F2C
Revels in fact-free fantasy
The weed that calms and satisfies
Hastens the day of last goodbyes

F2C rage and fume
Bay their anger at the moon,
'Stay quiet in your smoke-fouled den
Come back and moan in 2010'

Bus Doom

Good work Paul, and no disguising
Impressed am I at your skill in rhymming
But cancer-sticks? I beg to differ!
Not a cert, but I've heard the rumour.

Well, granted, probability's higher
But I could fall under a bus tomorrer
Or cancer brought by traffic-fumes
Could speed my journey to the tomb

Then when I'm in my smoky heaven
I'll cast my eyes for friends eleven
We'll form ourselves a football team
And perhaps recruit young Wayne Roonee

I've heard it said, he likes a tab
Yet fast he runs, that smoking lad
We'll challenge prohibition then
If reason fails in 2010


Commenter name: Basil Brown

Comments

[Basil Brown]

Good work Paul, and no disguising
Impressed am I at your skill in rhymming
But cancer-sticks? I beg to differ!
Not a cert, but I've heard the rumour.

Well, granted, probability's higher
But I could fall under a bus tomorrer
Or cancer brought by traffic-fumes
Could speed my journey to the tomb

Then when I'm in my smoky heaven
I'll cast my eyes for friends eleven
We'll form ourselves a football team
And perhaps recruit young Wayne Roonee

I've heard it said, he likes a tab
Yet fast he runs, that smoking lad
We'll challenge prohibition then
If reason fails in 2010

[Jolly Roger]

Now look what's happened, am I to blame?
Is this my fifteen minutes of fame?
I must have miscalculated my poetic spam,
'Coz nobody has a clue who I am.
But I'm quite democratic with my verbiage,
And offer it to smokers, or not, of the herbiage.
In the meantime, Paul, thanks for the logo,
But I haven't been that thin since I last left Llandogo

[ike]

Cigarettes And Whisky

My lungs with nicotine are rife
but I never touch lousy liquor.
As a way out of this life
I wonder which is quicker.

The smoke that clogs up your chest
does not foul up your spleen
and your liver always stays its best
despite loads of nicotine.

The alkies on the other hand
are a drunken, fire-breathing bunch.
I’d rather have a fag in hand
than consume a liquid lunch.

Over burn holes in my couch I cry
but it stinks not of gin or beer. And if f a pretty girl walks by
I neither whistle belch nor leer.

I suffer not erection droop
though sometimes “it” puffs smoke.
My girl friend gives a joyful whoop
and treats smoke rings as a joke.

While boozers weave and stagger
we smokers walk quite straight.
And we can still afford to swagger
if we smoke one over the eight.

We don’t get drunk and beat our wives
as the dipsos sometimes do.
We stay sober all our lives
and abhor that gin soaked crew.

We are victims of very biased rules
while the alkies puke at random.
the no smoking laws were made by fools
and its time somebody banned ‘em.

Nikiha © 2003