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Indiana Shaw Poem
On a reminiscing of a poet I thought I would make a call
But on searching for this name sake I was left appalled
The name "Silent One" was clearly there to be seen
But of all his works - it was if they had never been
What happened "Oh Silent One" and who had silenced all your words
Seemed our friend had been picked on by no greater than a - "Turd"
Whatever the reason "Oh Silent One" left us - he has now returned
With this experience behind him and hopefully with a lesson learnt
I hope to see all the blank pages refilled with words and poems of old
And whoever took it upon themselves a greater punishment be doled
Their cruelty and indignations not worth from us all a second glance
As "Oh Silent One" returns to forgive and give us all a second chance
Of an art that can only be held by "Oh Silent One" as the maestro he is
Because honouring us with his enlightenments - is really truly the "Biz"
Welcome back "Oh Silent One" . . .
Indiana . . . ; )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2017
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Indiana Shaw Poem
A no rules barred Limerick . . .
THERE ONCE WAS A FARMER . . .
There once was a farmer called Mr Brown
Who with his duck in tow went off to town
The duck panicked and quacked all the way
The farmer had his fill and left the duck in the dray
Then disappeared into the Rose & Crown
There once was a duck left in the dray
Who settled down nicely in the hay
Then farmer Brown he did returned
To the noisy duck he had spurned
The duck had three golden eggs lay
The now inebriated farmer Brown was elated
On his newly found wealth he then debated
The duck was relieved in more ways than one
Otherwise off to the market she was gone
Thinking of her fate had he not waited
There once was a farmer Brown and his duck
Who both could not believe their newfound luck
Farmer Brown on himself a new tractor did spend
And the amazing duck got herself a brand new pen
Not strung up with her feathers ready to pluck
Indiana Shaw . . . ; )
Inspired by poet "Kevin Shaw" and his daft poems . . . : )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2017
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Indiana Shaw Poem
THE SOUL FISH
Down onto the sunny - but windless beach - one dayMy grandfather and I on the water’s edge - we stayed
The gentle ebb of the waters flow in and out - it goesLapping with delightful sensation in between my toes
Just at the water’s edge very faintly you could just seeA very flat sole fish just wavering and looking up at me
My Grandfather - told me to this fish we must respectFor inside this sole fish a dead departed soul was kept
I looked at the fish and the very sole fish looked at meAnd in its eyes - the soul of a departed - looking at me
Now my Grandfather has now departed and I am bereftFor the heartfelt message that just for me he never left
Now with each day - it is down to the water’s edge I goJust waiting for my beloved Grandfather’s soul to show
Dedicated to my Grandfather - Donald ShawMarket Gardener - Whitley - Bay . . .
Indiana Shaw . . . -_-
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016
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Indiana Shaw Poem
Once I was thinking of building a shopping plaza just along the Gaza strip
But the Israeli's being what they are; I thought my sales could take a dip
So I thought I'd build a set of tunnels starting from just beneath my feet
The guy from Hamas came and thought my tunnel plans looked quite neat
I employed a load of freeloading Egyptian labourers I got 'em on the cheap
I paid ‘em with unwanted skull caps and a load of knocked off kosher meat
We built a cafe serving up falafel and played loud music to cover up the din
And It must have worked as the locals never seemed to have heard a thing
Took us over 3 months to reach the darn Israelis wall of concrete and steel
Damn if they were not waiting for us shouting, "Are you lot for flippin’ real”
They sent all of us back to Gaza; with a rocket launcher up everyone's *ss
Shouting: You ain't getting in here sunshine’s, not without a flaming’ pass
The Egyptians’ were not very happy but hey that's not so unusual for them
Try thinkin' of employing us to build another tunnel well you can think again
We then all arrived back at the Syed café; just to find, it had shut up sharp
Apparently; there had been a 100% sale on, down at the bazaar supermart
The Egyptians’ looking a ghostly white from months of working in the dust
Suddenly disappeared; they had all absconded outta here, on the local bus
Sitting on a dusty chair down at the Syed cafe; I watched as Gaza did burn
While totting up the jukebox to the sounds of The House of the Rising Sun
O' a Palestinians’ lot, is not an easy lot, of this, you can be more than sure
Just ask anyone from Farah to Beit Hanoun; they all know the bloody score
Damn Israelis’ won't be happy until they have us all mowed down like we lice
As have us all sold off to the West bank pretending that they are selling rice
The guy from Hamas reappeared saying those tunnel plans looked quite neat
Have a thousand unwanted skull caps and a load of knocked off kosher meat
Well' a Palestinians’ lot, is not a happy lot; but in the end, he will not be beat
I opened a local vendor stall just a stone's throw at the bottom of my street
Selling a thousand unwanted skull caps; & a load of knocked off kosher meat
Lulling the days when a guy from Hamas thought my tunnel plans looked neat
Indiana Shaw . . . ; )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016
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Indiana Shaw Poem
O' Forgive me Lord; for I have so sinned
I put my rubbish; in my neighbours' bin
It wasn’t like there wasn’t, enough room
But did she have to hit me with a broom
With the neighbours gathered for a laugh
In fact; in the end there was quite a cast
After that wack, I was amazed I survived
It was not long; before the police arrived
As police took statements, in their scores
Delving through the rubbish; is this yours
Holding high a plastic bag, knotted neatly
Yes, I am afraid it is, I replied; so sweetly
With evidence bagged, I then taken away
Charged; up in court that making my day
I was named and shamed with a £100 fine
Where community service, I was assigned
Alas, I'm picking rubbish, up off the street
And never again my sins will I ever repeat
So after that, I was clever, knew the score
With no one looking, shat outside her door
I heard her screams and, smiled in content
Lessons learned, revenge was heaven sent
Indiana Shaw . . . : )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016
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Indiana Shaw Poem
UKRAINIE V'S RUSSIAN WARSHIP MOSKVA
Those laugh a minute Ukraine's, on being asked to surrender
Told the Russian's, "Go fook yourselves" in good old splendor
Survived to live another day; as released, prisoner exchange
Now that very same warship "Moskva has sunk" how strange
We finished it; says Ukraine, our fault says Russia, explained
Either way the warship Moskva sunk much to Russia's distain
It's always nice in war to be able to chuckle at others demise
To Ukraine's one-upmanship; and then to Putin's woeful cries
Indiana Shaw . . .
"Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle" . . . ; )
"The Russian Warship Moskva; which was made infamous by threating
13 Ukrainians left protecting Snake island back in February of this year
has now met it demise, believed to have sank in the Black Sea"
"But, hold your pants Ukraine, for Putin's retaliation" . . . : '
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2022
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Indiana Shaw Poem
Ha ha ha - I am sat on the loo waiting to pass
Whilst reading the funnies I need more gas
Peoples humour is right up my street
Making us giggle is really quite neat
We need the humour to take us away
From the otherwise saddnesses of the day
So here I am on my throne in fits of laughter
Some poems are so funny they deserve a Bafa
Sod the sonnets that only win by love or grief
I need some more funnies to get some release
As I drum up some lines of those who died on the loo
While over excerting themselves while having a poo
Good old Edmund Ironsides got stabbed in the ass
From a viking who hid in the lav I thought was grass
Who must have been nose blind to put up with the gas
Cathrine the great a gonna wow the poor poor lass
Another famous name to have died on the throne
Whilst contemplating last nights meal with a groan
King George II hot chocolate in hand to ease it through
It didn't worked mind as he was found dead on the loo
King Elvis Presley who did not quite make the grade
Was to be found on the bathroom floor he was laid
Don Simpson was another to end his life on the throne
Strange as can be reading a biography by Oliver Stone
At Glastonbury festival politician Christopher Shale
Found dead in a porta loo giving one out for the pale
So with pen and bog roll I sit and write my last rites
Just in case I should die here having my last shite
Indiana . . . ; )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2017
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Indiana Shaw Poem
GILGAMESH . . .
Story has it you used your power to run amuck
Putting fear into the people, and brides in Unuk
So the people of Unuk pray to the sky God Anu
To sort out Gilgamesh, without any further ado
Send us something to sort out that raging mutt
Who just wants our brides and likes to kick butt
Enters; poor, Enkidu, who was, a man of nature
Created; by the Goddess Aruru, for their favour
A man of innocence, who ate grass with gazelles
That; itself should, have been, ringing your bells
News of Enikdu; reached Gilgamesh, who swore
What Eniku needed was no better than a whore
To calm his beastly nature & make Enikdu a man
Such a shame really; it’s here his downfall began
Because once Enikdu laid his soul to this woman
His pet gazelles; were no longer to him a coming
Enikdu really had no choice but to leave for Uruk
Where after, the rest of his life, became unstuck
News; was out Gilgamesh wanted the next bride
But: what Gilgamesh needed was some bromide
Qualm his bad urge for other men’s, to be wives
Enikdu; on hearing this his temper began to rise
He sets off to challenge Gilgamesh bring to book
A man; whose women’s virginity, so, rudely took
Enikdu met Gilgamesh; at the bride's to be, door
Fights with Gilgamesh, ‘til he could fight no more
Gilgamesh; tosses him, liken, to a young bull calf
With this Enikdu becomes Gilgamesh’s other half
Part Two - Gilgamesh's Quest
Gilgamesh had many visions, on his own destiny
To overthrow the King of the cedar trees, legacy
To place his name; in the hall of fame, then gain
To knock Humbaba off his throne, he was a pain
Humbaba was going to be no easy task for sure
A huge brute of a man whom as knew the score
But: Gilgamesh, and sidekick Enikdu, were ready
Taking Gilgamesh sisters so as to act as bevvies
Then just for good measure prayed to Shamash
Who owned; the lands, of the cedar trees cache
Weapons weighted they were hilted up to galore
Entered into the cedar forest, via, the back door
With; strength and wisdom; Humbaba was felled
But; to tell his sad tale, Humbaba was compelled
Gilgamesh; could not help, but; feel compassion
Poor Humbaba; who had taken such a thrashing
For reasons unknown; Enkidu decided to kill him
Gilgamesh follows; without a thought, of bad Jin
Shame Humbaba was a nice guy underneath it all
Would be happy to serve Gilgamesh, as protocol
As the cedars trees shook to hear of such death
Enlil God of the mountains was more than bereft
Curses both Gilgamesh and Enikdu as to their err
Though Gilgamesh; and Enikdu not fully as aware
Part Three - Gilgamesh Returns Home
Gilgamesh; returns home, now so more the hero
Ishtar: weird woman; sees him as Robert de Niro
Requests his hand in marriage, but: alas, no avail
Gilgamesh refuses her; then, went out on the ale
Tut; there is nowt worse; than a woman scorned
As poor Gilgamesh should have been forewarned
Ishtar; flies up to heaven to give it, some groans
Never such an insulting lad, to her Da she moans
Give me the Bull of heaven; to teach him a lesson
Against that Gilgamesh, it will be my best weapon
Ishtar wish was granted, as off with the bull went
And into the city Unuk the daft bull was then sent
The daft bull in Uruk not half wreaked some havoc
When it erred as on the side of being a bit savage
Riles Enikdu into action; who as quickly has a plan
Grabs the bull by the tail as he had a strong hand
Gilgamesh as by its horns then stabs it in the nape
The bull dies on account it had no means of escape
Gigamesh; hands its heart, on a plate, to Shamash
Tired from their endeavours; both decided to crash
Enikdu awakens from a really bad dream not happy
Everyone wants him dead, and as in pretty snappy
Enikdu laments then curses the harlot as to no end
As to, Enikdu; no real happiness, did she ever send
But: then his curses he did revoke, as feared death
Still, twelve days on Enikdu breathed his last breath
Gilgamesh's Quest For Eternal Life . . .
Gilgamesh lamented as only one's brother could do
Grief-stricken, and for in his heart, a cold wind blew
Enters on a journey; to find Utnapishtim, the father
To everlasting life he now as wants to seek a lawyer
The lawyer was a man-scorpion, riled fear in others
Come Gilgamesh; for you are of such a Godbrother
12 miles of darkness; to travel, to get ones answer
To rid yourself, from this Enikdu’s, lamented cancer
Gilgamesh in his grief; says, he is up to the mission
Then the man-scorpion lawyer gives him permission
To enter the gates of Mashu; a range of mountains
The land of the Gods; who lived, in their thousands
Shamash; greeting Gilgamesh in somewhat, dismay
For Gilgamesh; prayers to live forever is one of Nay’
Says seek Siduri, &, Utnapishtim son of Ubara Tutu
Urshanabi the ferryman, you must as stick like glue
Gilgamesh; meets Utnapishtim now wants the truth
Who was nothing less; of a Noah, back in his youth
Sets Gilgamesh a test, sleep not 6 days or 7 nights
But; Gilgamesh, fell asleep on the first-night, alright
Utnapishtim, sends him home, with a flea, in his ear
But; not before departing with some advice so dear
As to find a plant in deep waters, which restores life
With that information, Gilgamesh, was, like, O’ right
Finding a plant was one thing, but; losing it another
Gilgamesh; as fell foul, to a wily serpent, O’ brother
His quest up; traveling on with Urshanabi over-land
Arrives, at the city Uruk feeling less than a man can
Where he engraves the whole story onto clay rocks
A poem, about life and death; and, how it all, sucks
O’ yeah, poor old Gilgamesh died never to rise again
But: ‘cause of his epic poem, forever he found fame
The Sumerian epic; dates back as far as 4.500 years
So; it is only fair that Gilgamesh, earns some cheers
To have given us, such an epic poem we can all read
Historians assure us; that we can more than agreed
As from Gilgamesh; he has so much in which to lend
Then, at last, my own flamin' epic of a poem can end
Indiana Shaw . . . : /
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2020
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Indiana Shaw Poem
CYRUS II - THE GREAT
So; here comes the story of that, King Cyrus the Great
Whose history for some of us; is still well up for debate
But; it’s such a darn good story, it well deserves a rate
King Cyrus; born 601 BC, to give us all a historical date
Under some weird strange circumstances, one must say
Because; his grandpa, had a prediction one strange day
Where he sees, the now King Cyrus, rise up against him
Poor old Cyrus; a child yet to born, was now so bad jinn
So the old grandpa; Astyages, in fear hatches up a plan
And orders Mandane' his pregnant daughter off his land
And gives Harpagus instructions to kill the child at birth
Who in distaste or laziness, he showed an acute dearth
As passing the task onto shepherd Mithradates, no less
Who passes his own, stillborn onto Astyages in distress
Mithradates; then rears, the young Cyrus up as his own
As to everyone else; the secret kept to others unknown
That was until a King is King no matter what Cyrus rose
Just 10 years, a nobleman son in a game did he oppose
This was just unknown for a mere shepherds son to do
Cyrus Da, Mithradates; was called in with no further ado
Who as confesses; to the changeover, of Cyrus at birth
Which rages King Astyages into doing something worse
Young Cyrus was sent home to be with his true parents
Whilst on poor Harpagus; revenge was as now, hell sent
King Astyages had Harpagus son killed and then cooked
Then; unknowing to Harpagus fed, to bring him to book
The only good here this story is supposed to be a myth
Revenge is sort later as with Astyages’s last deadly kiss
As Astyahes; had Harpagus lead against Cyrus's troops
Harpagus as defected, another of Astyahes, little boops
Cyrus; as predicted, rose up against Astyages, and won
But being a strange one, King Cyrus was yet to be done
Spares his old grandpa and shook hands than slaughter
We are friends, and, then promptly marries his daughter
Which means in effect, he marries, one of his own aunts
By doing this King Cyrus was more than a smarty pants
With all kingdoms owned, Cyrus owned some prime lots
But; was King Cyrus ever happy with all that he has got
As Babylonia here really deserves a well worthy mention
As to religious divides were never his malicious intention
Even allowed; the Jews to go home to build their temple
And showing religious intolerance, with his own example
If there was ever a myth; there was one of the greatest
Had me rolling in the aisle laughing, as I heard the latest
As a Jew turns up with a scroll and says Cyrus look here
Wrote 170 years ago, and, look in it your name appears
All of this you have done, it was by our God’s command
You were nowt, but his tool, I hope you can understand
Don’t you just have to give it, to those darn Jewish folk
It was our God; that had this in the bag, some bad joke
And to why you cannot believe a word those Jews wrote
Cyrus; is God’s anointed, someone is pulling at my goat
Anything to take the credit, from old King Cyrus himself
Who built his empire on his own credit & his own stealth
As Cyrus prayed to many God’s, God Marduk being one
Known as the Semitic, term for Baal’, are we being done
That God and Satan are one; I just can’t find the divide
In which I always left pondering has somebody here lied
King Cyrus in his worth created something on this earth
This far excessed God and his jumped up plans of mirth
Created the real garden of Paradise in his own backyard
Did well by all accounts, on God it must have been hard
His Garden of Eden fell apart before, it even got started
It must have left God; more than a bit, down heartened
Decides to put a claim on Pasargadae if by his own work
By getting it added into his storyline; by some Jew clerk
Cyrus ruled the biggest empire, ever known in the world
And to all religions under his rule was happy to preserve
He also wanted control of Egypt, but we will never know
Cyrus as died so his quest for Egypt became a no show
Some say that Cyrus; departed, from this life peacefully
That in his tomb in Pasargadae; lived his death blissfully
That was; until Alexander the Great, came to be around
On finding his tomb raided; he was more than, astound
Alexander; did his best to patch the tomb back to good
He had so admired, King Cyrus; from his own childhood
Cyrus who I only presume he got all his inspiration from
Who; strangely made sure the Persian Empire was gone
One of the ways that Cyrus may have kicked the bucket
That is was Tomyris; a Massagetean Queen, who dunnit
Cyrus wanted Tomyris hand in marriage and, her realm
But, Tomyris, was keeping her hand tightly to her helm
So she got old King Cyrus, to fight on her own ground
As to military judgment goes; that was not very sound
But he put his shot of cleverness in and raged Tomyris
By getting Spargapises and his troops fed, then dissed
Cyrus troops returned and, slaughtered them all by fall
This is to where clever King Cyrus, made the wrong call
Spargapises; is Tomyris’s son, she wants Cyrus’s head
And, is not prepared to rest, until King Cyrus was dead
As Cyrus death was nigh and to Tomyris the battle won
On decapitated his head revenge's the death of her son
If only; King Cyrus had stuck to his hobby of gardening
Then just stayed with all those Persian rugs, bargaining
But as any king, King Cyrus just wanted a little bit more
Hence; as to why the bugger, just wasn't here anymore
Indiana Shaw . . . : )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2020
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Indiana Shaw Poem
A COCKATIEL WITH A BUDGIE COMPLEX
So for a laugh, I thought I would buy Mo a cockatiel
Even sent it to a speech therapist, to learn the spiel
Soon it arrived in the post and, made itself at home
Where Mo was more than happy to let it freely roam
Days passed and from the cockatiel not one squeak
Until a day it rustled up and said to Mo, tweet tweet
Indiana Shaw . . . *o*
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2019
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