They closed the corner store some time ago
the ciggies by the two we now forgo
our lucky bags now a recollection
as is browsing in the comic section.
Mechanics' Social Club no longer stands
their topless barmaids, striving local bands
and Sunday morns' all-comers talent show
both pubs have closed, there's nowhere left to go.
They closed the corner store some time ago
finally called the time and stopped the show
The cafe, bank the chemist shop, all gone
the street is quiet, not much going on.
We'll have a Tesco store sometime, they say
we know they're sure to place it far away
you'll need an Uber car, too far to walk
We'll miss the bench where you could stop and talk.
They closed the corner store some time ago
Nail salons and vape stores, now come and go
barbers, bookies empty charity shops
you see the homeless sleep, you see no cops
once walking up and down the street in pairs
graffiti daubs, the windows smashed, who cares?
An out-of-towner builds an HMO
inside the corner store we used to know.
Off to The Bookies
I’m off to the bookies
To lay down a bet
Of when I will receive
A text from you next
I reckon February
A courtesy ‘hi’
Happy birthday dad
Well I know that’s a lie
The two to one fav
Well that has to be May
You’re low on funds
And it’s your birthday
Two days before
How are you?
I sent some money
And off you flew.
My granddaughter’s birthday
A text to astound
You didn’t reply
When I sent twenty pound
December you inform me
I’ve bought all my gifts
Mine’s conspicuously missing
But I let it drift.
I send a ton
Thank you so much
For another five months
You’ll be out of touch.
David Cox 01/01/24
D-evotion In Vain; Open Rawness Consuming; Ex-spouse
I-nconvenience; neither one willed to stay the course
V-intage it is of matrimony failing; now get back on the horse
O-ccurred in percentages that make bookies grin without remorse
R-elationships, however, do end; different destinations like an airport concourse
C-opiously feeding an industry; built on having no recourse
E-verything Could've Remained Obviously Vindictive; I Divorced
DIVORCE Acrostic poetry contest 12-14-2023
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
It's "Pick on Santa Season." Have a go
Making fun of him peeing in the snow
He's a red-faced fellow
When it changes to yellow
He tries to distract folks with, "HO HO HO!"
Santa Claus loves good little girls and boys
Having his elves build them fantastic toys
He eats lots of cookies
Bets horses with bookies
But smooching ladies, he mostly enjoys
Santa won't be driving his sleigh this year
"His butt weighs too much," complained the reindeer
Look at that fat belly
From eating' at the deli
Then washing' it down with beer after beer
All the time trying not to become
until i realised i was
vice took your bet to the bookies
screaming out my chest
tide is always going in
never felt the win
would be such more
if i did care about anything
to my core
I think diamond should be lower down on the hardness
list just too pretty light
ever thought a beam of light
so slight could penetrate
the earth
and travel into darkness
sorry that was a passing thought
if you thought outside the box
where would you be thinking from
and why tell...
Ey-up uncle Ken,
I bet tha goin, bookies Agen!
I'll go with thee,
If it's or rate.
I go that way,
To see mi mate.
Wats tha backin, in two thirty?
Mi gran ses put a Bob,
On flirtin girty.
Gonna play Togger on park,
Then go woods,
Before it's dark.
Get sum cheggies for afta tea,
If tha calls in Lata
Will save sum for thee.
See thee lata,
Hope tha win
Will no if tha has,
Thal av a big grin.
"I'd bet on Someone Just Like Me", the lovely stranger said.
"I know the odds are long, but I just have this lucky feeling!"
The bookies gave a 10 to 1 for her prized thoroughbred,
I knew the odds for Reader Of The Stars were more appealing.
I placed my bet, the race began, my horse led out and out,
He passed by Harry Trotter, and had Hay Girl on the run,
He'd hold off Maple Stirrup, and beat Princess Peach, no doubt
But then, as though she'd seen a crystal ball, her longshot won!
Just like her odds, my hopes seemed dim in searching for a wife.
I hoped that lovely stranger at the track might be my honey -
The lucky day I'd longed for she would enter in my life?
I looked - the woman of my dreams was gone, just like my money.
Written 7 Sep 2020
Phrases in Bold are required by the contest
Punch to the left, punch to the right,
Hold nothing back, in a boxing match,
Show him no pity, hit him real tight,
One in the tummy, punch to dispatch!
crowds cheering, coach’s swearing,
This is the dream, you worked to win!
radio is blaring, bookies screaming,
Don’t ease your grip, smash his grin!!
His head is bleeding, his eye is black,
Quick on your feet, the bell is gone,
Step to the side, give him no slack,
land him a stunner, you are the Don!
Keep chin up, gloves up to your face,
He is circling around, like King Kong!
Go jump in and punch, four with pace,
He is down, his eyes go ding dong!!
heap on the floor, he takes the count,
You dance around, arms up in the air,
You Ignore pain , with glee dismount,
You are Champ! You won your share!!
Written 04/March/2020
Rattling rhyme contest
Sponsor Nina P
The rain. Unrelenting.
Cats and dogs.
The dreary architecture of the souless
grey-brown urban landscape
worthy of the matchstick man fella
But. Hopeful.
The smokers hunched by the bookies,
beside the battlecruiser. Handy.
A cosy camaraderie with a common denominator
No judgement; but wonder or at least inquisitiveness
I envy them; I'm not of their clan
They are the self determined grassroots,
as politicians like to say
A certain folksy wisdom prevails
Later; the grim realities unveil
But. Enough!
Have the craic, lads
Have the craic!
as builders spend pennies
flipping profits on houses
lifestyle gurus
show us how to fold trousers
and chefs under pressure
scream out all their orders
while people in need
are labelled as hoarders
and bookies fix odds
for the afternoon races
as judges cast judgements
on bizarre family cases
and contestants light buttons
to win mystery prizes
while traffic cops chase
young suicide drivers
and retirees escape
to a life on the Costas
as law firms inform us
it’s good to sue doctors
and super vets cure
lame dogs and sick horses
as folk with backstories
fail SAS courses
and dealers earn livings
from ducking and diving
while medics with agents
get judged Strictly jiving
and loan deals have small print
explaining their charges
while celebs enjoy cruising
on canals in large barges
and food critics chew
over masterful dinners
and. there. are. several. long. seconds
before we find out the winners
but when MPs dodge questions
on the numerous news’ panels
it’s proof that what bites
really sucks on our channels.
Climate change, a threat!
All bookies odds are odds-on,
Would one want to bet?
Look, can you not see sorrow?
Climate change a threat!
Wildlife, that was, disappeared!
No good now regret!
Natures warnings all denied!
Build your own rocket.
The clock near to striking doom!
Climate change a threat!
LET ME BRING YOU
UP TO DATE.
GRIDS ARE DOWN
THROUGHOUT THE STATES.
A HUNDRED AND TEN
WITH SWELTERING HEAT.
WITH SHORTS ON MY BODY
FLIP FLOPS ON MY FEET.
THIS HAS GONE ON
FOR THE LAST 48 HOURS.
ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT
AND STILL HAVE NO POWER.
YET GAMBLERS ARE GAMBLING
BOOKIES BOOK BETS.
PREDICTING THE TIME
THE GRID WILL RESET.
A THUGSTER TRIED THUGGING,
BUT THEN HE GOT SHOT.
WITH A HOLE IN HIS HEAD,
HE WAS DEAD ON THE SPOT.
LOOTERS ARE TARGETS
FOR COPS ON THE STREETS.
WHO TRY TO STOP RIOTS
AND STILL KEEP THE PEACE.
THE BEST PLACE TO BE
IS INSIDE OF MY CAR.
WITH A/C AND MUSIC
AND ENOUGH GAS TO GO FAR.
We moved up North and settled down.
We moved to Egremont, a crying out town.
Crying out for money to be invested, alas!
Not too many people were interested. Alas.
The people are good, wholesome and true,
A community of strength, of township glue.
It has a church, a dentist and great vets,
It has a post office and shop selling pets.
It has a memorial where time stands still.
A grocers, a bakers sounding their tills.
Several schools, a library, even a bookies
And best of all Old Grandmas' cookies.
We moved up North to start afresh; anew.
We lost some friends but only a few;
Their 'last post' heard across the vale,
Echoing memories into far distant pale.
Not all was lost. As time went by
We made friends anew; the chosen few.
The snow capped mountains, crystal lakes.
All worthwhile, we did what it takes.
We moved up North and settled down,
We moved to Egremont, a crying out town.
Crying for money to be invested, alas!
Not too many people were interested. Alas.
Red Rum was pounding the turf down at Aintree,
Going as fast as any horse can be,
Ginger was there looking on at the side,
And the whole of Liverpool, filled up with pride.
For the third time now, this great horse had won,
The greatest steeplechase under the sun,
At Aintree a Horse is more likely to die,
For the third time Red Rum, the odds did defy.
Around the world the bookies all suffered,
The betting fraternity knew they weren’t buffered,
To lay off a bet when the Horse is a hero,
Is not easy, so most, were left with a zero.
The ordinary punter, who fancied a flutter,
Even, the tramp, who lived life in the gutter,
Joined with the housewife who bet the housekeeping,
On the horse with the heart which always kept beating
Because they all knew Red Rum would win through.
My mother used to work in a bookies in bread street
An area they called the pubic triangle
Due to all the strip joints
One day she went out on her lunch break
To place a bet at another betting shop
Not the usual sort
Football, dogs or horses
It was on the outcome of the O.J. Simpson trial
She was going to put 20 down on a guilty verdict
But first she went into an Indian run place
That sold cheap plastic crap
Cheap suitcases, discounted stuff
It was called Ali´s Cave
& she got talking to the guys in there
Told them about the bet
& they laughed
& said she should double up on
An acquittal
They figured there would be
Riots, fires & looting
If O.J. went down
& my mother took their advice
& O.J. walked free
& my mother bought herself
A nice new handbag
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