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Poetry Contest
- Willy Nilly
- Man of Destiny
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Poetry Contest
The winner for the best poem wins a reward of the Prizemasters discretion.
That's it. Good luck!
That's it. Good luck!
- Willy Nilly
- Man of Destiny
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Re: Poetry Contest
I once wrote this as a Rutles anecdote of John Lennon's poem The Fat Budgie from "A Spaniard in the Works". Click the link for comparison
”The Fat Chicken” by Ron Nasty from his second book “A Battleaxe To Grind”
I had a little chicken
He was my feathered friend
I took him walks in Rutland
He drove me round the bend
I called my chicken Charlie
He was a proper one
I named him after Leggy
Who always hopped for fun
Some people strangle chickens
I really don’t know why
Perhaps they think they’ll lay an egg
Or bake them in a pie
Old Charlie clucks and squawks
As I chase him round the run
I make him drink cold cups of tea
Then hit him with a bun
He clucks like other chickens
But only on weekends
But most of all he’s barking
He hasn’t any friends
He runs around my yard all day
And perches on my head
And if he’s really manic
He‘ll do it ‘til he’s dead
My uncle ate a chicken
He was so fat and fair
I laughed and called him Fifi
He hit me with a chair
Although his name was Malcolm
It really mattered not
He went into his local pub
And drank the bloody lot
The landlord had to throw him out
For telling chicken jokes
He tried to wa*k across the road
And died as a result
My chicken’s on the wagon now
For drinking like a sloth
He got it from my uncle
But then the wheels fell off
It would be funny wouldn’t it
Drunken fowl, police
Imagine all the chickens
Living life in peace
I’m maybe just a dreamer
I’m not the only one
I hope you chickens join us
‘Cause I’m only thirty one
”The Fat Chicken” by Ron Nasty from his second book “A Battleaxe To Grind”
I had a little chicken
He was my feathered friend
I took him walks in Rutland
He drove me round the bend
I called my chicken Charlie
He was a proper one
I named him after Leggy
Who always hopped for fun
Some people strangle chickens
I really don’t know why
Perhaps they think they’ll lay an egg
Or bake them in a pie
Old Charlie clucks and squawks
As I chase him round the run
I make him drink cold cups of tea
Then hit him with a bun
He clucks like other chickens
But only on weekends
But most of all he’s barking
He hasn’t any friends
He runs around my yard all day
And perches on my head
And if he’s really manic
He‘ll do it ‘til he’s dead
My uncle ate a chicken
He was so fat and fair
I laughed and called him Fifi
He hit me with a chair
Although his name was Malcolm
It really mattered not
He went into his local pub
And drank the bloody lot
The landlord had to throw him out
For telling chicken jokes
He tried to wa*k across the road
And died as a result
My chicken’s on the wagon now
For drinking like a sloth
He got it from my uncle
But then the wheels fell off
It would be funny wouldn’t it
Drunken fowl, police
Imagine all the chickens
Living life in peace
I’m maybe just a dreamer
I’m not the only one
I hope you chickens join us
‘Cause I’m only thirty one
- Willy Nilly
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Re: Poetry Contest
We all will. But Mr Tree will lead the charge.
Professional courtesy and all that.
Professional courtesy and all that.
- Prizemaster
- the 'Things he was appointed to distribute Master'
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- Prizemaster
- the 'Things he was appointed to distribute Master'
- Posts: 4058
- Joined: Mon Jul 17, 2017 11:26 pm
- Has told off: 127 times
- Been told off: 450 times
- Runaway
- Publicity Executive & Recruitment Ambassador
- Posts: 13482
- Joined: Mon Jul 17, 2017 12:01 am
- Has told off: 558 times
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Re: Poetry Contest
Is this true, Mr Nilly (soon to be promoted if he keeps his nose clean and doesn't drop me in it) ?
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