Best Blimey Poems
Hot date
Can’t wait
We're at
My flat
Cute eyes
Nice thighs
Admit
She’s fit
So sweet
Must eat
We dine
Sublime
First Kiss
Sheer bliss
Soft peck
On neck
Tongue's twirl
Toes curl
First base
Hearts race
Undressed
Bare breast
Blimey
She’s ‘HE’
No joy
Ladyboy
Fussy
Pussy
Night ends
As friends
Written by Jan Allison & Tim Smith
28th August 2014
There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!
Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers!
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!
And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think our friend Spidey gobbled too many flies!
In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!
In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled -
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!
By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and Wilma are having a fight,
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!
There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”
On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!
Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!
Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”
Collaboration between Jan Allison and the amazing Nina Parmenter
3/17/18
Now where does this Highlander start
To thank those commenter's, present and past
So many read and absorbed
Their kindness to me always lasts
Dr.Ram and Carol Brown
My African Queen 'Miss Wilma Neel's
Michael from New York City
Whose comments I internally feel
There's Andrea, the Utah babe
And Carolyn, from Florida State
Their writing I so enjoy
For their words reverberate
John Loving is such a wonderful guy
There's Sara and Doris too
Deb Radke and Sharon Ruebel our newbies
Made welcome to our literal zoo
P.D. Skat and Constance
Barbara, Iolanda and June
Francine from lovely Nanaimo
Many thanks to all of you
To Ruben, Celene and Raul
Your past writes have helped me grow
Along with so many others
You have helped my words to flow
Blimey! I better not miss out the Brits
Sarah, Brian, Sharon and June
And Anna Marie, away down in Wales
I have read in my front room
Many dudes I also have to thank
Harry Horsman the Geordie boy
The two Roberts, Dufresne and Hinshaw
Whose writings bring so much joy
There's also the bard called Peranteau
Billy the Kidster, Cecil as well
HG, Catie Lindsey and James Goff
Who marshalls his words real swell
And lastly there's the thousands of others
This character has ran out of space
Keep the ink in you pen gently flowing
Your names to me is your face
Golly! this is turning into a story
And many told by the above writing troops
As I marvel at your writing ingredients
Keep writing for this wonderful Soup
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-16.php
“Can you smell something burning,” Dad frowned and I said “Yeah.”
It had the smell of cooking meat, as well as burning hair,
Dad stopped the truck, lifted the bonnet… “Blimey look at that!”
Something was mangled by the fan, looking like Mum’s cat.
“Strike me pink” Dad shook his head, “Mum’s cat’s been on the motor.
It’s been killed by the fan”; and we knew that Mum did dote her.
Dad looked at me with steely eyes, “Get the spade and dig a hole,
I’ll tell you now and only once… don’t tell a living soul”…
… I was halfway through my tea, staying quieter than a mouse.
Mum asked “Has anyone seen Tiddles? She’s not around the house.”
All Mum got was puzzled looks, and the shaking of each head…
Dad glared to remind me, ‘don’t tell a soul the cat is dead.’
Mum loved her cat so much; she’d have Tiddles on her lap
out on the porch at evening time. Contented she would nap.
I hated seeing Mum distressed, but Dad just acted bored,
when Mum said, “I’ll write a note, with an offer of reward.”
‘Ten pounds for her return’; I thought that Mum would smell a rat,
when Dad said “Make it twenty, if you really love your cat.”
The Ad’s printed in the paper, in the column ‘lost and found.’
Dad said to me “I’m feeling guilty now, with Tiddles underground.”
Dad let me drive the tractor while he spread the ragwort spray,
and then blackberries copped a dose before they shoot away,
he emptied out the tank and we went home to wash the gear.
The Evans’ car’s parked in our drive… “What are they doing here?”
Laughter’s in the kitchen; a joyous Mother’s voice did say
“Young Misty here found Tiddles; she was hiding in their hay,
no wonder she would not come home.” I watched Dad’s eyes and jaw.
… Twenty quid, the cat is back… a box of kittens on the floor.
Seven days and lonely at night
Was a Princess called Snow White
On her doorstep there was
Little guy dwarves
All different to view from sight
So on Monday night she did walk
To Dopey's bedroom for a talk
The conversation was slow
Up sticks did she go
At her topless body he did gawk
When Tuesday evening came around
She tiptoed without a sound
Beside Bashful she sat
Blimey, not again, no chat
His eyes on me will never abound
Oh my! it's Wednesday again
Am I beautiful or just plain Jane
I better go to the Doc
Do I look good in this frock
Am I letting my shapely shapes wane
It's Thursday and I better nurse Sneezy
Whose chest has become rather wheezy
To him I won't kiss
No matter his wish
I have no desire to become queasy
Thankfully Friday has been reached
It's the weekend long lies are now preached
For Sleepy I'll never wake
No booty will he shake
My cheeks he'll never see peached
Saturday has finally come along
Even Grumpy now sings the same song
With a song and a cheer
Shared over a few beers
No chance you'll get into my thong
Have I saved Sunday to be the best
Is Happy better than the rest
His smile tells me so
For more than his cheeks glow
At last a loving grin at my breasts
Oh I need to be loved ever since
Like the weeks I had with my Prince
For many many nights
He knew to love me right
When I walked, you could see my legs wince
.
.
Is it I or is it me?
I’m a little confused you see!
I can be part of us, or they,
Or we, who’s to say?
I can be referred to as one,
Not much fun!
What about thee?
Is that still me?
Then again, thou,
Not right somehow.
Some refer to I as dude,
That’s just crude
Or even mate,
Not great.
If you’re a girl then it’s gal,
For a boy it’s pal.
In certain cases, Miss or Mister,
That could just be sinister!
Some say, ‘hey you,’
Luckily only a few.
For some it’s ‘what’s a name’?
Such a shame.
Some terms are not so nice,
Might come at a price!
Some say darling or love,
Heaven’s above.
Worse still chuck,
That’s bad luck.
I’ve even heard blue or slim,
Blimey that’s grim.
If it’s kiddo,
Then you’ve yet to grow.
Some say he or she,
That’s obviously not me.
I it has to be,
Then for sure I know it’s me.
~A Salute to Wind~
Ah, the wind in the trees!
Bends lovingly about to hug my knees.
And the whoosh of their leaves,
brings back multitudinous memories.
Of being sixteen on the back
of a hog,
And riding with a biker gang.
Clutching my boyfriend's strong back
so hard, I thought it might crack.
Or high winds in Chicago, their Arctic
winter, so fierce.
My daughter, just two, and oh so tiny!
Was nearly blown across icy Michigan
Avenue, blimey!
In those heavy downpours in San Francisco,
good Lord!
That not so kind wind contorted my giant
umbrella like a pretzel!
On hot summer nights, dear wind, is always
a loving delight.
Blowing the heat of the day away from
all of us.
Creating a wondrous, starry, cool California
night!
Ah, wind, with a mind of it own.
On that you can count!
I salute your freedom, bowing to no man and
cannot be bought.
Free to be fully you and going whence yoou
ought.
Without one judgemental thought!
August 21, 2019
Beautiful is your foot with the stabbing nails.
The yellow and green ones that have never been cut.
Gorgeous is your gaping mouth with the missing teeth.
And your big and hairy smelly monster butt.
My lady, my love, my dragon queen troll.
You can never be too fat or chunky or slimy.
My one and only, professional flatulent princess,
Your smell calls me to you, and your hair, it’s blimey!
Beautiful are your clogged-up ears full of wax,
Beautiful is your nose, full of snot pure and yellow.
Beautiful is my lady, whose toenails claw like tacks.
I am your he-monster, a lively, happy fellow!
The Willful Wind
Ah, the wind in the trees!
Bends lovingly to hug my knees.
And the whoosh of their leaves,
brings back multitudinous memories.
Of being sixteen on the back
of a hog,
And riding with a biker gang.
Clutching my boyfriend's back
so hard,
I thought it might crack.
Or high winds in Chicago, in
winter, so fierce.
My daughter, just two, and oh
so tiny!
Was nearly blown across icy
Michigan Avenue. Blimey!
In those heavy downpours in
San Francisco...good Lord!
That not so kind wind contorted
my umbrella like a pretzel!
On hot summer nights, dear wind,
is always a loving delight.
Blowing the heat of the day away
from all of us.
Creating a wondrous, starry,
cool California night!
Ah, wind, with a mind of its own.
On that you can count!
I salute your freedom, bowing to
no man and cannot be bought.
Free of no one, and going
wherever you ought.
Without one judgemental thought!
December 22, 2019
Not advertising that flippant flick. I just want to know
where my blooming flivver is. It ruffles my feathers no
end to find out, when exiting the embassy,
that my buggy's whereabouts are a mystery.
I must meet Sherry 'cause her right toe
wants a sweet kiss. Did the camel tow
my car? That blasted mammal! Sherry's dear
foot can't wait! Please do not tell me the deer
took my buggy! That son of a Witch
would fine
me with a very pricey mulct which
isn't fine!
Not another loathsome tax
to put up with! Oh no, Lord, please!
I beg thou hearken to my pleas!
Now, let's come down to tin tacks.
I need my bloody car! A choice bass
cooked by Sherry awaits me. The crass
specimen who's got my car is so base,
and I'm so cross! The camel has a bass
voice that creeps me out! I do not want to
deal with him. I cannot even stomach two
secs the sight of the deer. He's ugly too.
II.
On returning to his flat, mad as a goat,
Ivo found on the door, the following note:
Dear Ivo,
I hereby inform you that your awfully and
illegally parked streetcar has been impounded.
Come pick it up at the City Hall and
bring cash with you for there's a fine. 8 hundred
clams.
Much love,
The Crane from Ukraine.
Blimey! That heartless crane! I won't give her a buck!
Now I know the ruffians weren't the camel and the buck.
Well, let's be fair, it wouldn't be cricket to pass the buck.
I didn't park properly. It's my fault. That's it. I will not buck
at the fine.
III.
I got my car back for free. How? l told the crane;
"I'm in a hurry to meet Sherry who needs me to canoodle
her feet. I'll have tonight for dinner a bass fish with noodles."
"If a foot massage like the ones I used to get in Ukraine.
you give me, I will be happy to call off the mulct." said she.
I pleased her feet very much. She loved it. Then we got some tea.
IV.
I'm on my way home to eat some bass,
with my beloved and awesome lass.
It's so nice to be able to dine
without having paid that gruesome fine.
With a hearty laugh, and scallywag's glee
I've acquired their riches, and conquered the sea!
Like a timid lass... they will turn, and flee
showing their backsides, to the likes of me!
Lily livered, they're fearin' my brand!
Shiverin' they be, till they're walking on land!
Arrgg!! shouts first mate, calling out to the crew,
"Tally-ho!" fills me ears, as the chance now ensues
Setting sail in a race, up high on the waves
I spy with my glass, wily cowards to chase
'Tis we, mighty foes, that will ransom the sea!
Mighty bold is me, with me old pirate's creed!
Alas! there he is, what a fool is he!!
To rush into battle with the likes of me!!
Sailin' the waves on the blimey sea
Stung by a sword, the scallywag flees!
How swift he sails, along in the blue..
Yo ho ho! Thar' he be!
He'll be countin' his days, and soon on his knees
A sorry tale, will allot him, his sword just a broom
Me' cross=bone skull is flying wild
and waves a mighty doom!!
I am Blackbeard the Pirate....remember my name!
You will fill up your froth of my flowing fame
You will guzzle ye' grog, or a bit of ye' rum
Yea' ... call me the devil, with a bit of a scum!
Girdled with face of a hundred scars
Fear of me' wrath, either by sun or by stars
It gladdens the heart of a scoundrel like me
You'll best not forget ....tis' a Blackbeard ye' fear!!
From the shower to the mirror I stand
With my breasts cupped in my hands
Oh my gosh they're too small
As I stand there and bawl
You men simply just don't understand
He suggests I take some toilet paper
I've to rub them, Oh what a caper
Blimey, how long this will take
It'll take months, just wait
Keep rubbing you'll soon be the shaper
Golly, I'm starting to feel a right tit
My new Bra they ain't going to fit
Well it worked for your ass
Keep going darling lass
There's the proof, no lies, didn't it
.
"Roll on tonight my mates are coming round
For a few cold beers and some rocking sounds
Time is drawing near, as I hear a knock at the door
Blimey! at this time of the night, a vacuum salesmen stands before"
"Hey pal make it quick, I have a party to host
Tell me your pitch, now disappear your a ghost
The best place for them is in the lunar craters
Sucking on Listerine soaked tissues, singing, "see you later alligator"
"Another knock on the door, and I'm pleasantly surprised
All my intended buddies on my doorstep, the parties arrived
For a night of drifting, ending with earache and pain
Entering wormholes of insomnia, no pain no gain"
"Our party is going to be like a cool Rock 'n' Roll gig
Beers flowing a plenty, this ain't no highland jig
We start with Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention
Best friends and myself, our schooldays convention"
"This is no wine and dine as Dire Straits play
The "Sultans of Swing" sounds excellent any day
Next we play Deep Purple, listening to Jon Lord's Hammond sounds
Music is our medicine in six speaker surround"
"In between sounds to the kitchen we head
Tid-bits and more beers to keep our gig well fed
We sample some Grunge Metal listening to Nuclear Waste
But once again Classic Rocks rules, as Grunge is not our taste"
"For the next couple of ours it's like The Monsters of Rock
AC/DC and UFO, the Rock never stops
We air guitar to "Whole Lotta Rosie"
Wearing spandex boxer shorts, one of us drumming like Cozy"
"We all awake in the morning, some with sore heads
But it was never a night that we were ever going to dread
It was a bunch of guys who met whilst at school
Who released their friendly energy, like fools but really cool"
"Tom, I never knew you, but I thank Catie for this
Writing this poem, just fills me with bliss
I know you will be busy, but if you happen to look down
Give our convention a shout, join our Rock n Roll clowns"
My tribute to Mr Tom Bell, so many people spoke about him.
Reading what they said, I only wish I knew him.
I'd just done some washing
I'd hung it on the line
The sun it shone delightfully
I thought "this weather will stay fine"
Then I heard the weather forecast
Gee blimey it said rain
So to myself I did say
Must bring it in again
The sky turned dark and cloudy
As the wind began to howl
I was glad I brought that washing in
As it turned into a gale
Just a saggy-sad dumbfounded Basset Hound
Got claimed at the doggone-it lost puppy pound
Just hangin' out now and nosing around
Waiting for my supper to get back from town
Hooray! A dog's life for an ole' English lass
Can't hear very good, my rep's rather jaded
Sprawl out by a tree where it's cooler and shaded
Spread eagle, ya' know? Who cares, I been spaded
(I just rolled in something bio-degraded)
Ah so! A dog's life for an ole' English lass
My pack leaders walk on their hind-quarter parts
Go figure how they mastered THAT get-around art
I tried it once ( No it weren't very smart)
Threw out my back, God bless my British heart
Sacre bleu! A dog's life for an ole' English lass
Ah ha! Do I hear the purring of a car?
Door slamming, uh-oh, this is rather bizarre
The big one is carrying that smelly little bar!
C'est la...Wait! That's French (What a POODLE I are)
Blimey! A dog's life for an ole' English Lass
7/6/2012
For Tanya Harrington's "Dog Gone Tales" contest