08-10-2011, 09:55 PM
1
Mollie's Poems
A Close Encounter of the Weird KindIt were’t fancy dress ball at the local church hall
And we’d gone as Bonnie and Clyde;
There were all sorts there, ‘twas a brilliant affair
And we laffed so much we almost cried.
There were pirates and elves, and we enjoyed ourselves
And a bloke went as Billie the Kid
The great big white bunny that looked really funny
As indeed all the rest of us did.
Then about half past nine I lit a Woodbine
And a peculiar thing did occur;
The doors opened wide and I could’ve died,
There were an alien standing right there!
He’d only one eye at the back of his head
So I walked around’t back of him calm;
I looked in his eye and it looked a bit sly
But I didn’t think he would do harm.
His eye was quite red and so to him I said,
“Tha’s getten some cowd in thi’ eye
Tha’ needs a few drops, tha’ con ger’em from’t shops,”
And then from his bum came a sigh.
“That’s a great fancy dress, neh just let me guess,
Is it Billy Malone from down’t road?”
Then came hopping by was owd Jimmy McFly
Dressed up as a big ugly toad.
The stranger said nowt so I start to shout
Thinking he mit be deef as a post.
Then I noticed three arms an’e’d eyes in his palms
Then hovering by went a ghost.
“Tha’ favvers a treat, wor’ast done at thi’ feet?
Ee lad, that there eye looks so sore.”
His feet were quite round an’a said “I’ll be bound
Tha’s an eye on the end of each toe!”
He said “nik-a-nak,” I were taken aback
As the sound had come from his rear end
He said “nik-nak-noo” so I said “How do?”
And then from his waist he did bend.
When he talked through his bum it made me feel glum
As he nik-nakked and noo’d all o’er’t place.
He were trying to speak bur’it left me all weak
An’a said “Wor’ast tha’ done at thi’ face?”
“Tha’s getten no nose so I have to suppose
That ya breathe through yer backside and burp.
Wor’else can you do, can ya sing through it too?
I can see yer a bit of a twerp!”
He nik-nakked and noo’d an’a thowt it were rude
When wouldn’t speyk up to me proper
I said to him “Si’ thi’, who’s come in here wi’ thi?
If tha’ dussen’t speyk reet tha'ra cropper!”
He started to twiddle wi’t knobs on his chest
Then out of his bum came a swish.
“MY NAME IS REDER, TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER
OR ANYONE WHO CAN SPEAK ENGLISH!”
Jimmy Wriggle called out who had come as a scout
And he laughed as he swigged at his ale.
“That’s not Malone, he’s come as a phone,”
And at that I went visibly pale.
Turning back to the stranger I suddenly saw
His ears – a peculiar shape
They were’t size of a cauli and he sez, “Now Mollie,
Your mouth has gone wide and agape!”
“It’s hardly surprising neh is it owd lad.
I can see that yer nor’a full shillin’.
Ya talk through yer arse, it’s a bit of a farce,
At the circus ya’d mek a great killin!”
Whilst stood at the bar I asked if he’d come far,
He looked sad as he stared me in’t face.
“I thowt it were swanky in this part o’ Lanky
Bur’ave getten’t go wom up in space.
“Wiv getten yer language all wrong lickle lass,
When I gets back wom they’ll all know.
And then a bit later we’ll have’t alter’t data,
Ickle come as a bit of a blow!
“Wiv bin studying English for several years
And because I could speyk it the best,
They sent me for’t day so I cawn’t stay for’t play
Ickle put them daft buggers to’t test.
“They’ll have to start learning all o’er again
And learn all yer vowels from scratch.
They’ll send me agen in a year, mebbe ten
But from a distance all I’ll do is watch.
“They’ll study it close an’ I’ll go on a course
To make sure tharra speyk proper weel.
Then without a sound I’ll come down on the ground
Bur'a might be in London or Deal!
“The first place I went was a grove down in Hove
And they couldn’t mek out worra said.
I got chased by a bobby so I run up a lobby.
I were lucky I didn’t end up dead!”
Sadly he turned as he started to leave
Then he asked me if I had a sprocket.
“I’m sorry owd lad, neh tha’s made me feel bad.
Wot’s it for, does it go in thi’ rocket?”
“It dun’t matter, sez he, but we’ll just wait and see
Burra need just a cupful o’ gin.
It’s just a renewal for me tank full o’ fuel.”
Then his bum gave me such a wide grin.
It were just after that, that he finally left
And we waved him goodbye from the ground.
It made us feel warm that he’d meant us no harm
But was friendly and clever and sound.
We never forgot him that alien from space
And we told folk that he’d come from Mars
But they were agog and thought we’d lost a cog
When we said thar’e’d talking through his arse!
© Mollie M
30.06.05
08-10-2011, 10:14 PM
7
Re: Mollie's Poems
As Hallowe'en approaches, how about this one.
Dotty the Witch
There once was a little owd witch
Who lived all alone in a ditch
She was famous for miles with her toothless owd smiles
But she kept well away from the lych
The church was no place for old Dot
Her hair was all manky with grot
She had a grey cat and she'd called him Matt
And her faithful old lizard called Trot
She'd jar upon jar of odd potions
And she'd mix 'em all up when she'd notions
With two ears of bat, a bit o' this and o' that
In her cauldron she'd make all these lotions
On her broom in her ragged owd cloak
She'd park on a roof for a smoke
Then off she would fly right up into the sky
Scanning the world for a bloke
The ugliest woman was Dot
Her nose allers dripping in snot
Her laugh was a cackle the same as a jackal
She'd a long time ago lost the plot
For years she'd tried to make a cream
To give her old lined face a gleam
But she looked like a chap with more lines than a map
It was all just a bit of a dream
Her problem had been a great nose wart
Which caused all her efforts to thwart
So she mixed up a paste, not a bit did she waste
With the active ingredient - a fart
She laboured on this for three years
'til one day she realised her ears
Were so much more smaller and she'd grown a bit taller
So she celebrated with two or three beers
Her potion was doing the trick
So she pasted it on proper thick
She soon was a beauty, a definite cutie
Then she got wed to't divil - Owd Nick!
© Mollie M
15.01.10
Oh you could have been describing me ...08-10-2011, 10:26 PM
9
Re: Mollie's Poems
I've never tried to get my poems published, but I have tried to get my Crusty stories published.Whilst they said that they liked them and found them very amusing they couldn't see a market for them. I'll leave the good folk on here to judge them when I put them on.
Mind you, it's years since I tried to get them published, but these days you have to go through a Literary Agent, whereas I used to send samples of my work direct to publishing houses.
09-10-2011, 04:03 PM
10
Re: Mollie's Poems
I know I've already put this in another part of the forum, but I thought I'd put it in here as well to keep all my poems together.The Legend of Alfred the Geek
He were six foot eight wi' a hump an' a squint
And he had scrawny arms for good measure
He weighed just six stones, he was really all bones
And he frikkened folk't deeth just for't pleasure;
He'd curly brown teeth in a cavernous gob
Bony skull an' a slap head to boot
He were called t'Golborne Ghost, he was really the most
Ugly bugger wi' only one fooot;
His red beady eyes would bob right out on stalks
And he'd sunken in hollowed out cheeks
His nose were as large as a big canal barge
And he'd go without eating for weeks;
He only came out on the darkest of nights
He were such an incredible freak
With his big pointy ear he would have folk in fear
And his name it were Alfred the Geek;
Hallowe'en were his most favourite time it is said
And he'd sleep during't day until night
Then he'd crawl out from't grids, just to frikken all't kids
Giving them a most terrible fright!
In all of his days he had never had friends
And was shunned by most people around
The smell of his breath would ensure early death
But was gentle and sound as a pound;
It never occurred to him to take a bath
And he stunk like a rotten owd dog
With a stench like a grave, it'd waft in a wave
And his most favourite weather were't fog!
For a while he was working on't graveyard shift
At the factory just down the lane
But folk had their fill when they'd all getten ill
So he'd slithered off wom once again;
His wraithlike appearance would hover around
And he'd hide behind't lamp posts an' all
He was a frikkenin' owd ghoul, such a silly owd fool
But all the same he had a ball;
He lived in a little old cottage type house
It were just on the edge of a lake
He'd howl at the moon, the crazy owd goon
Then he'd go for a walk with his snake!
Poor Alfred was human and that is quite true
Despite his unusual frame
There was never a wife, such a lonely old life
But he had a good time just the same!
His mother rejected him straight after birth
She wanted nowt do with the Geek
On't day he'd bin born she had looked all forlorn
Horrified she'd give birth to a freak;
He'd lived right into his eighties they say
All his life folk would aim him a swipe
He died near his bed standing up on his head
And they buried him in a drain pipe
He'd never bin able to hold a job down
And was ostracised right from the start
But dressed in his best from the Chapel of Rest
They carried him to't woods on a cart
From the cart they lifted the pipe to the ground
And propped it up for a bit near a tree
It was a nice spot so they dug out his plot
It were't cheppest because it were free
No one attended his funeral, so sad
It was over in less than a week
There was no one around so they trenched out the ground
With a plaque saying HERE LIES THE GEEK!
So if yer off to the countryside just for the day
And yer giving the kids a nice treat
Don't look at the ground 'cos you might've found
Alfred buried right under yer feet!
© Mollie M
17.04.04
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