Best Terry Poems
I could murder a curry, Death mumbled under his voice
A Terry Pratchett icon in his fantastic discworld universe
Imagination…the inspiration of many
This legend awe inspiring…
Every book, every tale
Breathing new life into each
Even as his was failing
A small token of homage
For soo many hours spent
Ensconced in his world
All his characters my friends
Feeling familial traits even in luggage, the many legged suitcase
I explore tiffs world with her little blue men
And my heart broke with all, when granny Weatherwax saw her end
My favourite character to be sure, i cried and cried
I only lived that book once as it crushed me inside
So I re read the old tales where she’s living a new
All the while feeling that her character was you
I broke just as much, when I heard you were gone
The end of an era, new tales now anon
A tribute to my favourite author anew
We all drop our hats..
Terry Pratchett it’s you
Don’t you know Job Terry?
I thought everybody knew Job Terry
My name is Captain Job Terry,
my people from Kerry
But I a Poughkeepsie Celt.
I make a dashing impression,
Held down the whaling profession
For at least two score or more.
I’ve worked the coast like a rambler
Broke bread with Governors and gamblers,
Courted princesses and prostitutes to boot,
I’ve rubbed elbows with them all
Just name any Port of Call.
My name is Captain Job Terry.
Don’t you know Job Terry?
I thought everybody knew Job Terry
After finishing a seminar based on demand and supply,
I walked out to the street and hailed a taxi going by,
and as I sat down in the seat, the taxi driver said to me,
‘my, my, your timings perfect, you are just the same as Terry.’
I must admit he had me thinking, so of course I answered ‘Who?’
‘Terry Parker’ said the cabbie; a bloke it’s obvious he knew.
‘Yeah, anything that Terry did, he was right on every score,
he lived with perfect timing and Terry never had one flaw.’
I had never met a bloke like Terry, so I’m wary of the fact,
so I subtly gave me answer in a way most would react,
‘None of us are perfect mate,’ but the cabbie did insist
That Terry, he was faultless, and so few like him exist.
I heard that Terry was an athlete with the most amazing skills,
His golfing matched the pros, and his tennis playing simply thrills,
he could sing like Johnny Cash; and even better so I’m told,
he danced like Fred Astaire; his piano playing…simply gold.
I could only think he must be special, this Terry Parker bloke,
and the cabbie uttered ‘hang on,’ and once again he spoke,
‘there’s more to Terry yet, you see his memory never failed,
he remembered every birthday, and every one detailed.
‘He was a connoisseur on beer, and knew everything ‘bout wine,
He knew how to serve the finest foods; all simply pure divine.
And if anything needs fixing, then Terry was your shining light,
he was streets ahead of me, ‘cause I can’t do nothing right.
‘He could always read the traffic, and you’d never find him stuck,
not like me when I am driving, for I had none of Terry’s luck,
and I ought to mention women, and how he made them feel so good,
he was the ideal gentleman; he treated women how I should.
‘Terry would never answer back, even if the woman’s wrong,
he was a charming butler, and his charisma it was strong,
he kept his house immaculate, as no other person can…
no one could measure up; Terry Parker was the perfect man.’
When I reached my destination but before I stepped outside,
I paid the driver what was due, and then I thanked him for the ride,
but I thought it best I mention, at more or less a parting whim,
‘this Terry Parker is remarkable, how did you get to meet him?’
The driver took my money, and then he muttered deep and slow,
‘Actually I never met him, but I’m married to his widow.’
Terry, dear Terry, how's you this fine day
Hope you're happy and singing away
Wish you good luck
Most of all, aw shucks
Find you so loveable, what more can I say
© Jack Ellison 2015
Terry Flynn is a man I know but I can’t say when or where,
And when I try to look him up he isn’t really there.
When I try I can see his smile but I can’t remember his whole face,
I can see us sitting at a table together but I just can’t name the place.
And if I try to fix him in the center of my mind,
I always lose my focus as if it were designed.
He’s not the only one that I just can’t seem to place,
It’s like from my memory each one has been erased.
I wonder how many more out there are just like Terry Flynn,
That’s why I keep a record of those who’ve never been.
Terry was born in Redcar, Middlesborough,
On the 28th day of June in the year 1983,
And he flips between Worcester and Spain,
To train for his basketball matches actively.
In 2008 at the Worlds Terry won the silver,
2004 and the Athens Paralympics, a bronze,
A bronze in 2008 at the Beijing Paralympics,
And fourth place at the 2012 London dons.
In Rio de Janeiro in South America, 2016,
The GBR basketball team came in third,
Collecting the bronze to win over Turkey,
When they won the overtime final word.
Terry tried to cross the wall with one bound;
And had his two front teeth crowned!
Near his granny's house, a lake he found;
Not knowing beans about swimming, he drowned;
And gallons of muddy water he downed!
Not sitting quiet, he irked an angry hound;
Catching his calf, it got his muscle almost a pound!
All around, all the time, thus he clowned!!
Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Date: 25-04-2022
Place: 2nd
> My parents gave me advice. Of the dead only speak nice. Now if I heard right someone is being critical of Sir Terry Wogan, and that is not right. So as The Mad Author I have been called to write in his defence, and this is what the writing bug helped me write.
The Eurovision Song contest
Sir Terry Wogan spoke the truth.
The Eurovision Song contest is a joke.
It did not need Sir Terry, at it to poke.
As all could see, it was a joke.
No weirder sight, did I see.
Unless watching children’s programmes on TV.
Silly costumes, men/women too.
Or were the women, men? I could not tell.
But Sir Terry described them all quite well.
Of course, the British were not liked.
Others are jealous, all are alike.
We fought most of them in years gone by.
Yes and won the final battle cry.
But as for the Eurovision Song contest.
Best call it one of fancy dress.
As of the singing, Sir Terry was quite right.
As a Song Contest, it was not right.
I think we would have stood a better chance.
If Sir Terry had sung, his floral dance.
And as daft, as daft, as that did be.
I’m sure it would, have maxed points for GB.
And that’s the truth, do you agree?
The Eurovision Song contest is now naught.
Without Sir Terry, God bless his sort.
Now, as GB in EU might come out. No more need we rant and shout.
Or even dish the money out.
I do not know why but in copying and pasting the entire script has appeared with red underlining.
Even my explaination has and to be honest I cannot prevent it happening. It was not there in the text before. Oh well onwards and upwards lol (The mad Author)<
Our Terry was a wonderful Lad,
today the family are so sad
He passed today and we don't know why
the angels have taken him up to the sky
He was a cracking son, who loved his mum
a brother, a friend, to everyone.
but most of all he was a cracking Dad
and now his daughters are so so SAD.
He was loving and gentle and a practical joker
ohhh yes he was a smoker
his wit and humour put everyone at ease
always willing to help and please.
Sport and gaming were his passion
occasionally keeping up with fashion
in footy training you could hear his voice
But Man United was his team of choice
I'm sorry Terry i have to say goodbye
but save me a place in that sky
watch over us that you've left behind
its a sad sad loss you were so kind
All the best Marra in your new home
and i know that you are not alone
Your memory will always remain in our hearts
in reality we are not apart
God bless you Tez or is it Wigwam
tell you what mate you were a real good man
now don't you be laughing at us up there
i know that you really do care.
A trip downtown's a pleasure
Worth walking every mile
In 'Dannys' is a treasure
With a rare and charming smile
You're greeted with a welcome
Winter, summer, spring or fall
And she leaves you feeling better
Every shopper, one and all
A fragrant rose, so special
In a bed of weeds and thorns
Worldly wise, yet innocent
In a world that laughs and scorns
A heart so full of wonder
A candle, in the dark
A world awaiting, patiently
For a girl, to make her mark
This world is sure a better place
Made better by the minute
A friendly word, a kindly deed
Thank God for 'Terrys' in it
The Doubter Me?
by Terry Cooper
The Doubter Me?
Here stands one who doubts!
Even though I know the goodness of man,
and of course the other side of humanity.
Though I somehow know God is there for me,
I am never-the-less driven to question a future……
I believe beyond the screen of smoke and mirrors,
there is a heaven we will all share-in eventually.
Tis just that approaching hurdle of indistinction….
Receding, approaching, receding once again….
Teasing us into submission, preparing our way.
I sometimes struggle physically, fighting for breath…
When feeling close to something final, mind reaching
out for a shred, a glimmer of a well-trodden pathway…
Perhaps a hand, a light at the end of a tunnel…
Not yet eh Lord? I smile and patiently resolve to recover.
After a while, warm and comfortable in bed, I reflect
on my apparent frailty of mind, “not so” I reiterate.
It is the darned calls upon my sense of belief…
There is a weakness there after all! That is news to me!
The weakness is temporary, and will be dashed in due course!
Sent from Mail for Windows 10
by Terry Cooper
My spell check has trouble with indistinction….
Terry Cooper
7:20 AM (24 minutes ago)
to me
By all means Jim glad you liked the piece!
Ages of Rock
by Terry Cooper
For many years I bubbled beneath the deep Earth’s crust
Hot and molten ever moving, upward trying to thrust
Suddenly a crack appeared, above my very space
I burst out with my cohorts, sunshine hit my face.
We cascaded down a hillside, solidifying as we could
Came to a halt and looked about, the cooling winds felt good
Rain lashed down and crystallized, the surface of our skin
Holes appeared as if by magic, as our innards shrunk within
Dwellers began to assemble, in our caves for mutual shelter
Humans and some animals, with snakes so smooth and slender
All life sought our protection, from the threat there was without
Comfort did we garner, as our guardianship spread about.
Now they come to mine us, for the minerals we secrete.
The sound of pick and hammer, resound with monotonous beat.
Will our families ever return; to the security we provide?
Those caverns now more cavernous, fill us still with pride
There may come a time we’re needed, to again support Gods life
New eruptions being born, on the winds of Earths good wife
Evolving, our watchword, we record natures remedies to your ill’s
Do not dare to really upset us, lest Earths innards outward spills.
Terry Cooper
PS. Not rock of ages. Could not find any cliffs around.
THIS IS JUST A PUBLIC THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME FEEL SO GOOD
AND AT LAST, IN LARGER NUMBERS, BEING UNDERSTOOD
I WRITE WHAT I FEEL AS YOU ALL DO
AND THAT'S WHY I THANK YOU
MY NUMBERS HAVE INCREASED EXPONENTIALLY
AND THIS HAPPENED SUDDENLY
THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER PEOPLE I WANT TO THANK
AND YOU CAN TAKE THAT TO THE BANK
BUT REMEMBER, WHATEVER YOU TAKE COULD END UP IN MY ACCOUNT
BECAUSE I'VE GOT A LEAGUE OF HURDLES TO MOUNT
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, KEEP READING ME IF YOU'D LIKE
I KNOW I'D LIKE IT
AND REMEMBER Y'ALL---BE COOL AND BE NO ONE'S PHOOL
THANKS AGAIN, VIA CON DIOS
P.S. THERE'S ONE LADY WHO I KNOW IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MY LARGER NUMBERS, SHE KNOWS WHO SHE IS BECAUSE I AM HER SHADOW....THANKS GIRL (EXCEPT I THINK THIS TALENTED WRITER ISN'T POSTING SO SHE PROBABLY WON'T EVEN READ THIS, BUT I WISH SHE COULD BECAUSE I OWE SO MUCH TO HER COMMENTS THAT SPUR MY POETRY AND CHALLENGE ME TO WRITE TO PLEASE ONLY HER, BECAUSE IF SHE DIGS IT, SO WILL A LOT OF PEOPLE..I BELIEVE THAT.....EVEN IF I'M TALKING TO A GHOST, THANKS GIRL ~f!~
Terry???
Oh...?...!
Leary ...
;-)
4th in ~Skat~’s ‘All about …’ contest
On Mon, Feb 2, 2015 at 1:58 PM, Terry Cooper wrote:
Touched in the head a little like he is.
Yes you are a James Taylor in the making
Or where you fooling and only faking
I cook chips I don't do baking
Cakes and pies are so pains taking
I like a project I get in my teeth
Not something that can buy an early wreath
So Jim Horn are you really a musician
Or someone that mimes behind a partition
I express my desire to set the world on fire
Before I eventually have to expire
Problem was disturbing and when deductive
Process was non productive and ever so disruptive.
And to everything there may be many catches
If needed carry some matches and anti smoking patches
And you will also learn that you need latches
For all of your BS each poem catches.
Originally by Terry Cooper and slightly
And by horns have been abbreviated
So don't take any of loosely or lightly
Or else it will have to be alleviated.
You can start laughing any time you want to.
A little laugh can go a long age depending on
age, education and maturity. Be sure to save
some for me for reasons related to security.
Terry Cooper, et. al. who usually eats it all.
So what's eating you anyway.