Best Blue Peter Poems


Mission Statement

I don’t care about your colour 
I don’t care about your creed
I don’t  care about your gender
Or  about your sexual need 
Don’t care if you like Blue Peter 
While I’m a fan of Jackanory
Don’t care  if you’re misguided 
And go and vote for the Tory

I don’t really care if you appear
As mad as a mad hatter
We all have our quirks so
That really doesn’t matter
If I like you I like you
And That’s just fine
If I don’t I don’t
Not your problem but mine

Whatever our divergences
We all have the right expect
In our day to day life to
Be treated with due respect 
So if we meet we’ll  greet politely
Each symbolically raise his hat
Pass a comment on the weather
Maybe have  a little chat 

And, maybe when we part
We can part with a smile.
I don’t care about your foibles
Your race, colour, creed, lifestyle,
And, if  in the future we meet
Who knows where, or even when,
We can meet as friendly equals
And maybe laugh and chat again.

I don’t care about your colour 
I don’t care about your creed
I don’t  care about your gender
Or  about your sexual need 
Don’t care if you like Blue Peter 
While I’m a fan of Jackanory.
Don’t care  if you’re misguided 
Enough to  go and vote Tory

Back To the Barnyard

My name is Tom and I'm the cat here on Manor Farm 
Let me introduce you  to the gang .
I rule the roost as you will see and ginger the chicken she agrees. 
The stable door top half open ,Mr Ed the horse says morning  well he is a talking horse !
And daisy giving milk she's my favourite,  cant think why ! 
I stroll over to the sty and give Dave a hi  who's one happy looking pig 
Shaun the sheep is in his field playing with his kids  
and Shep the sheep dog is sat in the shed and he his  fast asleep
And that's how he will stay, as I don't fancy being chased today.
Now over to the duck pond to see Donald and his crew.  Huey , Dewey, and Louie 
And finally to the farm house where the humans live. who are pretty good to me !

However them there humans have some nasty  traits 
They eat gingers kids for breakfast 
Dave is turned into bacon and daisy into  steak 
Shaun gets the chop with mint and peas and the Donald is sold to the local Chinese 
and Sheps pups are  sold as a pets. 
and Mr Ed is made to chases Fox's. Which is really not the best !    
so all in all I'm just saying us animals are the best .  






The cast 

Manor farm : animal farm the farm out the book 
Ginger : chicken run
Mr Ed : the talking horse  60 sitcom .
Daisy : magic roundabout  children's  TV program 
Dave : are well  been naughty here Google  David Cameron and pigs,  humm  best not 
Shaun : the sheep children's TV character 
Shep : a dog on a UK children's program Blue peter 
Donald :  Disney duck and his nephews 
Humans : Us 

comp entry 15022016

I Grew Up In Bath

I grew up in Bath in the nineteen nineties
wearing short shorts over tighty whities,
while Bath were champions of English Rugby,
a beautiful city farfetched from ugly.

We played on Stilts and had Yo-Yo's,
skateboards with logo's,  
Tamagotchi's, Slinkys and Pogo Sticks,
a string tied to sticks for Diablo tricks.

A lot wobbled, we played Wall Ball,
Smarties packets caused trouble.
Political Correctness didn't exist yet,
we wore Reebok, Fila or Hi-Tec.

We had Roller Skates, later Roller Blades,
out on the concrete in the streets we played,
as there were always lots of parking spaces,
space we used for running races.

We played Bulldogs Charge on repeat,
never stopping for the rain or sleet.
We played Wembley, or Heads, Volleys and Beats,
playing in the street our daily treat.

We played Kirby because kirbs were free,
40 40 in, also called Alien,
front gardens were a great WWF ring,
or we'd hit tennis balls tied to string.

Jumpers for goalposts, 
or one and a lamppost,
cheated as we'd peek 
playing Hide And Seek.

We played Knock Knock Ginger with its hiding,
or we'd get out our bikes and go riding.
We went Garden Hopping, never stopping, 
played in the dark after the suns dropping.

We had Master Systems, Mega Drives or Nintendo's,
but were not reliant on technology inside,
we built Lego stadiums, played Subbuteo,
we collected sticker books, Pog's and trading cards with pride.

There was a fuzziness to Radio and TV,
we'd always sneak a peek at Page 3,
we watched films on VHS, played Cassettes or CD's,
or Conkers when they dropped from trees.

We only had four television channels to be flicking,
Saturday mornings were for Live and Kicking.
Bodger and Badger, The Chuckle Brothers, Rosie and Jim,
but you couldn't beata, bit of Blue Peter, 
to Neighbours and Home and Away we tuned in.

When home alone emptied living rooms,
played football inside, 2-a-side, 
cleaned up damage with brooms, 
when parents got home we lied.

I'm proud I grew up in the nineties in Bath,
we had so much fun, so many laughs.
From no other time and place I'd rather be,
so here's to the nineties in the West Country.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.


Do Dah Day

There are people who smoke their coffee, eat cigarettes, snort beer and throwaway food. Are they ill in the head? Their life tapping out a story. Unknown realities straight out of a comic book. See the girl poet crawl on all fours. I'm going to ride her like a horse. Then feck her and write about it. 

We all eat ice-cream from the dictator's shoe. It's slightly sweaty but we don't complain. Here, the jails are packed tenfold a dozen. We spend every third weekend there, for fun and games. I cuddle up to Turk 182. I'm his . He's my slave. We'll get wed after the trial. Death Row will be a breeze then, together.

See Joey Deacon on Blue Peter. What a good thing he did for England and us mere mortal kids. Us who're crap at football and maths. You missed the net, you spaz. Silly Joey, can't add up. Then there was Ian Dury and his Spasticus Artisticus song. What a classic. Makes my nerves twitch and my feet dance.

Got your sexy sister washing my Fiat Panda car. She's wearing her bikini and no bottoms. Look how she moves, each wipe of her sponge turning me on. You can take her after me. Trust me, she's a dirty girl. Worse than your cousin. Let's do them both. We can film it and have a feck party. Oh what joy.

We swim in the frozen lake, three miles above sea level. The cold brown water is a joy to behold. As are car size floating icebergs. It's so thrilling, going skinny dipping here. I'd call it night swimming but it's daylight all year round. We pop some speed and we're fine. Our bodies are like Cassie, resistant to life.

There was a lady called Zon Zon. She sucked my dock behind the garages after school. Each and every single day. Rain or shine. I compare the memories in my head. From age thirteen to age twenty six. It feels the same. She's more sexier. Our partners allow us this small desire. Daily fun.

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