All entries for Monday 22 October 2007

Two Poems: Crass and The Ballad of Old Tom and Bobby Joe

Hi,

Sorry for my absence. Due to performing in the MTW Weekend Show here at Warwick, I have neglected the blog a little. To make up for it, here are two genuinely new poems.

  Crass is a replay of last week's word break down assignment, Wealth. Apparently it wasn't as fantastic as I thought it was, due to the fact that others may have touched on the same idea and written it better. However, it was a pleasant experience to write it, and I wouldn't change it for that reason. So here is a new poem, with more of the edge that was expected.

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Crass

Crass

ah rass

what the hell

are you between your letters,

between the CRAcks in your ASS?

don't give me sass

just the answer

straight

can rats allow such sarky

sloppy speech and rude cuts

to turn the butts

of jokes to crud?

angry enough

to shit bulls

and cruder

than oil.

crass, what are you, ass?

too bored to speak again.

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Another poem in the bank. Now for this week's assignment.

A ballad about two idiots / artists discovering the world in a new way. I had a bit of fun with this one. I hope you do too. Cause I looked up ballad in the OED.

3. A popular song; often spec. one celebrating or scurrilously attacking persons or institutions.

Intruiged by the word scurrilously, I looked it up.

‘Using such language as only the licence of a buffoon can warrant’ (J.); characterized by coarseness or indecency of language, esp. in jesting and invective; coarsely opprobrious or jocular.

With that, I let loose a bit. Here is the babble that resulted, containing dubious images. It may make you laugh. It may make you cry. It may result in my untimely death. Enjoy.

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Ballad of Old Tom and Bobby Joe

Well, Old Tom was a secret surrealist,

And so was his friend Bobby Joe,

And they had been living together

Since the time they destroyed Fabio.

But one day they saw the sun sparkle,

And screamed, ‘Argh, the light’s in my eyes!’

They wrote the sensation on old sugar paper

And wore it on their naked thighs.

Who let these assholes into the street,

And who taught them idiocy?

No one gave a shit ’bout the crimes they commit,

And the government let them go free.

Old Tom reached out for his cell phone,

Bobby Joe said ‘Put down that device,

Or your brains overload and make you explode

For that is the phone pixie’s price!’

Now Old Tom threw that phone out the window

And the handset flew way out of sight,

And set off their new neighbour’s car alarm.

Then Old Tom said, ‘By God, you’re right!’

Who let these assholes into the street,

And whotaught them idiocy?

No one gave a shit ’bout the crimes they commit,

And the government let them go free.

Then Bobby Joe looked at a table,

And asked Tom, ‘What happened to it?’

And Old Tom replied in a deep baritone,

‘Would you like to hear ’bout this shit?’

Those great pairs of legs were a-wand’ring,

And running all over the town,

Till one of them genius carpenters

Got this big plank to weigh the legs down.

Who let these assholes into the street,

And who taught them idiocy?

No one gave a shit ’bout the crimes they commit,

And the government let them go free.

Bobby Joe said, ‘Something’s in my underwear,

And I just don’t know what to do!’

Then Old Tom looked down and said, ‘Partner,

I think that I may have one too.’

Then they both laughed out in wonderment

And pulled down their pants to compare.

And they fiddled around, and the stuff that came out,

They used it to rub in their hair.

Who let these assholes into the street,

And who taught them idiocy?

No one gave a shit ’bout the crimes they commit,

And the government let them go free.

So happy were they in discovering,

They decided to play show and tell.

They rubbed themselves over womenfolk

And those women didn’t take it too well.

Old Tom and Joe are in jail now,

In a couple of months they’ll go free.

Their attorney was paid by the land they betrayed

Who plead for their insanity.

Who let these assholes into the street,

And who taught them idiocy?

No one gave a shit ’bout the crimes they commit,

And the government let them go free.

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Done. Come back later for more.

: 22 Oct 2007 17:40 |  Tags: Icw Icw07-08 Introduction To Creative Writing |  Comments (0) |  Close comments |  Report a problem