My poems

[Neverender]

well this is a thread where i will post any poetry i feel like writing. so please if i bump this thread ever don't lock it. and im feeling a rather somber mood today, so i'll write a poem of my great-grandmothers house back in newfoundland:

I was rocked in a cradle in a two storey house
On the rocks down in Notre Dame Bay
I can still hear the stories my Grandfather told
At the end of those hard workin' days
See the light on the ceiling from the kerosene lamp
Coals through the drafter of the stove
I remembers those days, with those plain simple ways
'Cause they're branded so deep in my soul.

i guess i'll add more later on.

[Halibut]

wow it seems like that was written years ago. Its deep i really like it :)

[Neverender]

well actually thats general life in newfoundland now, minus NTV.

[Neverender]

and another one, but a little more cheery.


This is just a little piece,
Of insignificant foolishness,
Tis just a little ditty,
For to liven up your day.

If you're lookin for inspiration,
Or for intellectual wit,
I'm sorry to disappoint you,
This ain't it.

[Neverender]

Two good reasons


there are 2 good reasons why you should stand up and scream and shout for more,
You want to here just one more poem before you head to the door,
the other reason is more profound, i hope i don't sound crass,
but you want to stand and tuck them away because your pants are stuck to your ass.

[Neverender]

LUNCH

Lunch lunch lunch lunch
Lunch lunch lunch lunch
Lunch lunch lunch lunch
Nine o'clock lunch
Ten o'clock lunch
Eleven o'clock lunch
Twelve o'clock big lunch
Lunch, lunch, lunch lunch lunch
I work for the Department of Highways!

[Neverender]

Im feeling bored today.
so..

Black Velvet Band With Changed Lyrics:

Her eyes they shine like, they're shining,
My God she was fat as a van,
with her hair draped over her shoulder,
I never knew she was a man..

[Neverender]

Punk Junk

Want to do the punk junk, out on the floor,
If you're sick, tis a guaranteed cure!
If you're bald, will make hair grow!
And if you're stopped, we'll make you go!
Swing your partner, grab her by the hair,
Off comes the wig, oh! She's got none there!
Twirl your partner, all around the place,
Oops! There she goes, hit someone in the face!

Want to do the punk junk, your Mother's at it now,
Dancin' to the fiddle, though they all knows how!
From Nain to Burin, out in their punts,
Now boys are all gone, on that wild punk junk!
Swing your partner, work up a sweat.
Don't let him go, you'll crack his neck!
Women, kids and men fall in,
You'll all get up, to the punk junk again!