S2Q3. Write a poem about something you love

2 Apr

Written By GoneClements

As soon as Friday wakes up
I start to feel a thrill
Cos soon it will be drinky time
And that makes me feel brill

It’s not to get too blotto
Or get me in a mess
It’s just to be in my happy place
And forget about my stress

We sit in the back garden
and talk about our day
And try to make light of our situation although that’s hard I must say!!!

But it always makes me feel better, a drink, a fag, a chat
A game or two of Spotify
And I’m better, as easy as that!!

The best is when there’s sport on
We watch it on the tele
The rugby, tennis, football
It’s my favourite more than any

I absolutely love it
especially in the sun
We sit out here for hours
And really do have fun

I suppose it may sound shallow
It may sound a little rough
But drinking with my family
Is the best time
So it’s just tough!!!
Driving around to places so far
Going to fields out in the car
Sunny or rainy the feelings the same
A way to change the plan of a day
And a place you wouldn’t have seen before
Can be seen, discovered and there to explore
Taking photos and scavenging around
Or listening to music and talking aloud
And when it all comes to a close
The places you see will never get old
This is a poem for my mum, who used to think I was a bum.
This is a poem for my dad, hopefully I can make him glad.
This is a poem for my sister, who deserves to find a good Mr.
This is a poem for my partner, she deals with me, she must be a martyr.
This is a poem for my friend, the laughter will never end.
She gets me here
She gets me there
She’s big and ugly
She has no hair
She’s not called sally
She’s not called Sam
I fucking love my transit van !!!
The bond of four furry feet.

In the boot of the car dog is crying.
Off the lead into mud she is flying.
At the clean cloths were wearing.
Mud stains we are staring.
In the front of the car we are crying.

To the beach furry feet run at speed.
Beach freezing it's a beer what we need.
Holding hands hatching plans.
To get off these wet sands.
It's Moretti we prefer over Carling.

Eight feet four furry in the car.
On a road trip miles away but not far.
Our love filled to the brim.
And the dog learnt to swim.
Making plans for next trip in the bar.
St Ives
Wake up early, load up the car, pack it all in, full to the brim, check the list, nothing missed.
Long journey down never a frown, headline news, read to amuse, hit all the weathers, grey and blues skies holidays in st ives.

Almost there everyone stares.
Walk through door, jaw hits the floor, pull a pew, what a view.
Stunning blue seas, dolphins and seals, seagulls steal.
Ice creams and sprinkles oh so simple,
Fish, chips, pasties and pies, holidays in St Ives

Amusement arcade don’t be afraid , hill Billy shoot out, water spraying all about, leave soaking wet, I’ll never forget.
Long coastal walks whole family talks,
Badger Arms hits lager & crisps, everyone’s pissed.

Time to go home everyone moans , we wave goodbye, try not to cry , walk to the car, it’s not far, hold on a minute, parking ticket now I’ve shit it !!!
I want to fish. I need to fish. It’s in my DNA.
I'd love to pack my job in and go every fuckin day.
but I can't do that I've got bills to pay and a raving fuckin wife.
maybe I should bump her off and get a different life.
But then I'd end bang in jail and counting every hour.
and probably get raped by Mr big down in the shower.
but I'm going off track I'm being a twat I've got to keep it real.
so let's get back to what I love and how I really feel.
so basically I'm happy when I'm fishing anywhere
and if you think I'm fuckin mad well fuck off over there!
Loves a Good Scratch
By Pip Squeak
Loves a good scratch I do
If there's an itch I have to scratch it and my fingers are the tool.
I awake most mornings to a stretch and a scratch, an itch won't evade me, an itch I will catch.
An itch pops up out of nowhere at first to my dismay, but then I send in the digits to scratch them away.
The feeling I get from a good old scratch is this; it's similar to the relief I get when exuding a long-awaited piss.
I'm starting to itch while writing this drivel, I'm rubbing my back on the door frame right now because the twat is right in the middle.
Back to the poem, I'll give you some examples; the back of your head the bottom of your ankles!
Inside your ears the top of your nose, under your armpits and in between your toes!
Itchy shin bone, itchy calf's, itchy elbows, itchy arse!
Under your chin, the middle of your back or that little patch of skin between your arsehole and your ballsack!
What I love to remember
Are days in September
and we were plopped on the beaches taken days for us to reach the reason for that I would like to explain
it’s my fault I fear, as I won’t go by plane
so each day is a joy as we swim and we laze and the hours pass by in a beautiful haze
but my favourite part of it all you see with a drink close to hand, we remember our day
and watch that beautiful sun go down over the bay.