Best Bugger Off Poems


Tyranisauris

Tyranisauris

Tyranisauris Rex said bugger off Tex
This is my swamp today
Fair suck of the sav
Don’t stick our you neck
Or I’ll slap you silly hey

So he buggered off in a cloud of scales
Cos Rex he didn’t play
No love affair 
Frustrated yeah
And then he went away

Don Johnson
Form: Rhyme

Parasites

Bugger off Shingles!
Go away fleas! I don't need
Itchy skin disease!
Form: Haiku

Talk To the Dead

Talk to the Dead 
When you talk to the dead,
They give you advice,
Buzz on your finger,
lightly touch once or twice,

I told Trish about dead Joan's Goldfish,
In her fish pond swimming pool,
When a loud voice said this,(to Trish)
They're bloody Koi not Goldfish,
You silly bloody fool,

Trish and Joan looked much alike,
And sounded alike,same voice too,
Same giggle and sense of humour,
Two parts of one soul connection,
Perhaps this is true? 

And one nursed the other before her death?

After Sue died in April 2015,
she jumped in my body too,
And I felt as sick as a dying dog,
Till she jumped right out too true,

Later without her deathly illness,
It was ok for her to,
Jump into my body,
Possession is OK blue,

Sometimes a concept arrives in your head,
The impulse to drive a different road Instead,
Check out my old house Suey did say,
When I drove past house had gone away,
The point of her contact a thread,

You must ask a question,
An answer to get,
Cos they need an invite,
Then words you will get,
Though some of the buggers ain't nice.

Don Johnson

Guess I was blest with the seeing,
At 4 me Kero fridge just went Om Om Om,
The shutter in me head clicked open,
And a room full of Greys. Frowned upon,
 Boogie man was I a seeing,
Grumpy Greys round my bed stayed too long,
Unfriendly grey men came at night not no friends,
Till I clicked the door shut, no more Greys in the hut,
Yes bugger off Grays don't belong.

Suey and I had long discussions about possession, and she said she wanted to jump inside me. After her death she did as in the top above poem.
A day before she died in my arms, we were joking about my Granny not paying back a loan .  Sue spoke sternly to Grandma and I saw her face above my bed
Grandma was crying and begged my forgiveness, of course I forgave her.

Insight to the other side.
I asked Sue how old she was now,
She said I'm 10 and am confronting child molesting Grandpa
Also confronting her Father for doing nothing about it.
Seems you get to bring justice on the other side of the veil,
And possibly decide the punishment when baby's are Constantly reborn in the Earth, just doing your time, in little Hell Earth.
The time and the place what your worth,
Form: Ballad


Toxic Masculinity a Term Coined By Some Stupid Woman

some ladies are annoyed 
because boys will be boys 
they call it toxic masculinity 
based on logic they think they see 
feeling there is a need 
to teach us boys 
how we should be 
and that means more pleasant 
than we are presently 
they say that because they know more 
that’s what they say but I’m not too sure 
believing they’ve been sent to save us 
from our ghastly horrid behaviours 
when really they should go away 
or understand the way we play
 cus they see nastiness in us 
interactions torturous 
that we banter just because 
that's the way been taught to us 
by the older males who are horrible 
according to these women fools 
who fail to understand the difference 
between hurtful and hate filled speeches 
and banter with our near and dearest 
for laughter to make an appearance 
through their eyes it’s all just weirdness, 
but then again they’ve got no shlong 
they ain’t men so they are wrong 
don’t like what you’re looking at move along 
men and women are not the same 
we use humour we call names 
while you judge us like we’re insane 
then interact just to complain 
and tell us our ways can’t remain, 
I think you might have half a brain 
please remember 
we’re different genders 
and you can’t mend what you ain’t been 
just go on home luv and flick your bean 
then try and learn to understand 
that men don’t flick they hold in hand 
we’ve very different parts on us 
and banter isn’t harming rough 
because it’s humour look that word up 
then look up the word retardedness 
that’s you little Miss Marvellous 
as you have never been a boy 
next time when you feel annoyed  
coming our way with your noise 
is not a very clever choice 
no patience left for your stupid voice 
boys will be boys 
and since you ain’t one 
Bugger off!! 
Girls fight behind each other’s backs,
Why don’t you concentrate on that, 
not like boys who go face to face, 
no, because women prefer to be two faced, 
honourless bitterness and all a fake, 
behaviour littered with mistakes! 
Understand your flipping place!!
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Blockage Fix

Blockage dis-ease fix

Red of blood of Crimson hue,
Begone blockage don't want you,
Breathe deeply on this one,
Orange hue it grows again,
Fills your world a subtle flame,
Tell blockage to bugger off blue,
Yellow light of destinys child,
Growing larger running wild,
the blockage buggers off too,
Green of Hearts the Forrest Glen,
Everywhere is oxygen,
Breathe deeply on it do!
Blue of sky the words will come,
Fill your sky with just this one,
Depart old blockage Blue,
Purple fuzz all seeing eye,
Breathe it grow it bye an bye,
Till white light you break through,
Astral Traveller it is you.
Don Johnson






Ancient technology Chakras, I use the orange one below my navel as an accelator, right hand on it, left hand on bad back or left kidney to fix same, and it works. I fixed broken veterbrae over a few days of doing just that. My Left kidney complains sometimes, so it gets more treatment
Form: Ballad

Norman

NORMAN
Norman was a character a funny man its true,
He was a country copper, till the force said bugger off blue,
He was there in Mungindi when two Squatters piddled on plants,
Grabbed onto ole Carruthers and booted him up the pants,
You cant do that said ole Loostrang, he’s the mayor of Dirran-bandi town…
You must be the bloody horse, said Norman to this drunken slobbery clown,  
So he threw ole Carruthers into the Black Maria, {squatter = Land owner}
 Loostrang went there swiftly hobnail booted, Ass on bloody fire,
So he got moved to Texas by the Squatter whinging boys,
And Norman booted the wrong asses, in Texas too just to bloody annoy, 
{Texas town population 500}
So Norman left the force,

In Dirranbandi town he left his mark,
A drunken guy was whinging,
Bad toothache  said the drunken nark,
Dentist, Norman, thoughtful, was a singing,

So he sat on ole Aspro Jack to shut him up,
Jerked a few teeth, till he fixed the squire,
Who Sobered quick, got his mouth to shut,
Cos Norman wheeled the pliers,

Norman found some revolvers,
In a Squatters  great collection,
The photo was in the paper,
In my mommas recollection,

Of the guy who held up the bank,
Was Norman to perfection,
Then his wife phoned up, said why,
Is there money not too dry,
In the ice box frozen section?

Don and Nell knew bye and by,
Norm was the master of mis-direction,
 Had money parked in all the banks,
On the commercial travelers selection,

So there in Goondiwindi,
 he was eating breakfast at the caffe,
when three thugs arrived,
 tipped soup into his bloody lap,

so he punched piss n pickhandles,
out of three of the would be stars,
and mopped up the floor,
threw all three out the door,
some really terrified Galahs*
   {aussie pink n grey parrots}   

I was having a beer with Norman,
He said “we’ll  pick the bar,” {fight em all}
I said which end, just the Mormons,
He said “not yet, ah ha ha”:}


Don Johnson
Form: Ballad


San-Goanna Blue

San-Goanna Blue

Morning Halliwell are you right?  {rhymer halliwell is 85}
or have your toes tucked up so tight,
are you with us or cantered through,
beyond the vale Saint Peters Zoo,
no brown snakes there tonight?

Or are you dancing an Irish jig,
With some well fed porker pig,
And playing snooker too,
Or bilious Kangaroo,

and on into the bloody night, 
with Sand-Goannas what a sight 
and lacy Monitors joined in too,
 Brownie snake said bugger off Blue,
 that Goanna just might bite...

Don Johnson
Form: Ballad

Green At Soylent

Green @ Soylent
So then the poor looked and saw,
Some tory bastards thinking,
Depression pills 4 all the dills,
Yer sex life aint fair dinkum,
Dumbing down of the savage clown,
Lobotomy oh so fearsome,
Brain dead is poor ole Fred,
What me worry, insincere-some,
Stay away from lobotomys hey,
Keep yer brain on auto pilot,
Depression bugger off today,
Deprive the green of Soylent ?

Don Johnson
Form: Ballad

Curfew

The sun set, the siren wailed
Furtively the Black moved, fearing to be jailed
For being without a pass after dark
In Johannesburg’s Joubert Park

A torch flashed in his face
Quickly establishing his race.
Too late to run
He was spun around
And pushed against a wall
By a big tall policeman.

Please Baas. Don’t call the van
I could be out of town quickly, if I ran.
Suddenly a push and a kick
“Run quick.”

Twenty years on
Apartheid’s gone
The policeman is now a civilian
Working in town.

The sun is setting slowly down
In a ball of crimson red.
Bringing dread
He must leave town quickly
Or he’ll be dead
With a knife in his back
Or a Kerrie on his head.

The City’s not safe after dark
For he has a Pass, printed by God
Embedded in his Page of Life
The DNA of being white.

In Joubert Park
A torch flashed in his face
Quickly establishing his race.
Too late to run
He was spun around
And pushed against the wall
By a big tall Black.

Please don’t kill me
I was the Policeman that let you go free
Suddenly a push and a kick
“Bugger off quick.”
Form: Verse

Pickles N Moogah

Pickles Graham heard the woosh,
Amber liquid showered his moosch (face)
Startled by the sudden shower,
Aromatic pizzle power,
An Mooga Wilson going crook,
"What are you doing there Pickles,
At this time and hour?"
Empty piddle pot empowered,
Stop moaning theres no grounds ,
for a sook,
And now you've had your early shower,
A bath is all you took,
A sweeter smelling little flower,
So bugger off ole chook...
Don johnson

SEEMS Pickles was on dawn patrol in Dirranbandi
 early in 1942, the Japanese were coming???
Form: Ballad

Aussie Taipan

Aussie Taipan
To be a Taipan lethal quick
Deadliest land snake
Is my pick
Coffin head and longer fang
Watch out for the boomerang

9 foot long full of venom
Send spear thrower off to heaven
Brown snakes are pussy cats
Suck down an scoff big old rats

If I get to snap at you 
Daisy pushing is your due
No me name aint ol Bevan
Bugger off or go to heaven

I am Taipan coffin head
hypno eyes a birdie said
does ya wanna be
deadly dud dud Dead

Don Johnson   12mm or 1/2 inch fangs hypodermic 60 mg venom.
 This one worries me like the great white shark. 
half inch hypodermic fangs...(brown snakes are pussys really.
get em with a shovel )...shot gun 4  taipan!!!
xo
Don

If I was Animal What Would I Be?
Form: Rhyme

Angelic Kisses

angelic kisses from the missus,
no it wasn't she?
bludger had some spiky whiskas
awful bugger werent a 4 me,
watch out for dem shirt-tail  lifters,
bugger off stop bugging me...

re: 'sweet nothings' Dave Williams...

good on ya mate.....Don

love is sweet, but incomplete,
 if ya strike a gal 
with whiskers neat:(
Form: Ballad

The Relief At Passchendaele

In 1917 the British and Commonwealth forces attacked
In the Ypres Salient in the corner of Belgium they hacked
Through the Third Battle of Ypres that had been raging away
With the battlefield turning to endless mud that would stay

As the rain fell at Poelkapelle at the Sherwood Foresters line
Was just holding on and waiting to be relieved at their time
In the mess that was the trench line a giant jumped in 
And the Forester was startled in all of the battle din

He said, 'Who the hell are you? ' As the conversation begun
The giant replied, 'We're the Aussies to relieve you chum! '
The Forester said, 'I can't give you food, ammunition or keep the rain off'
The Aussie said, 'Never mind that, we don't need it, just bugger off.'

So the Foresters left the trench and started the journey back
Through the flooded battlefield and water filled shell holes in a hack
And they lost as many men drowned the slush and mud fields
As the Passchendaele battle continued the murder and bodies yield.

© Paul Warren Poetry
Form: Ballad

Of Anzac Biscuits and Vegemite Sandwiches

It began as a day like any other, 
In the oceans deepest depths,
Until a Kiwi and an Ausi,
Decided to have a picnic at the bottom of the Ocean,
In the deepest part of the Mariana Trench.

They arrived with both flags flying,
Inside the only submersible of its kind, 
Nick named The Limiting Factor.

A toast to Sir Edmond they said,
We knocked this bugger off, 
And reached two kilometres deeper than 
He went higher.  

I think we have done enough for an Anzac Biscuit,
And a Vegemite Sandwich,
Even if the rest of the world thinks us nuts,
And can't understand how the two of us,
As different as chalk and cheese, 
Can occupy such a small space,
At the same time,
And both come back alive to tell the tale.

Maybe there is a lesson there,
For those who don't know,
How to occupy the same house,
Little own a single room together,
With someone who talks different,
Looks different,
Smells different,
And wears s a different hat.

Of course we do have the advantage of,
Having the supply of, 
Anzac Biscuits  and Vegemite Sandwiches,
Pretty much sown up

https://www.stuff.co.nz/science/124823189/historymaking-109km-anzac-dive-to-the-bottom-of-the-mariana-trench

Ode To a Summers Day

It's four thirty in the morning
Pidgeon's cooing, I'm still yawning
Bare feet the stairs I tread
Half asleep and fuzzy head
God! the sugars full of ants
Up my legs and in my pants
Slap! slap! with all my might
The more I slap the more they bite
Grab the broom sweep like hell
The air is blue with every yell
Then around my ear a drone
Blasted wasp wont leave alone
I say bugger off or death shall bring
He said up yours mate have tis sting
With throbbing hand to the garden fled
On lush green grass bare feet tread
Crap! ants black and red
And before another word is said
The pidgeon aims and hits my head
Hopping, jumping as blossoms fall
Nose runs, eyes water, hay fever makes a call
The sun it struck my skin turned red
The bites, the bumps, the stings all bled
That poet scoffed of a summers day
Did he dream the price to pay
Now the sun is high
The pidgeon shot and in a pie
The bed awaits the pillow glows
Sweetest dreams of winter snows
Form:

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter