Articles in Category: Poemeanderings

A collection of generally expletive and euphemism-filled rhymes and utterances.


An Apology

If I caused you offence with my actions
If I uttered words that made you cry
If I mocked your beliefs or your passions
There’s no-one more sorry than I

If I laughed at your ungainly dancing
If I baulked at your miniature size
If I gave out your number to psychos
Believe I’ve now tears in my eyes

If I slandered your abhorrent singing
And the way that you “play" your guitar
It maybe my jealousy winning
I’m not such a huge superstar

If I scoffed at your stupid convictions
If I scorned your religious beliefs
If I claimed that your bible was fiction
With atonement, I’d like to make peace

If I derided your priesthood as paedos
If I ribbed your desire to touch kids
If I teased your deranged dark libidos
I imagine I got on your tits

If I jeered when you drank all that Stella
And disgraced you for beating your wife
I should have just offered to tell her
It’s all she deserved out of life

Forgive me for pointing and laughing
From now on, it’s live and let live
I hope you find peace everlasting
I hope you find time to forgive

If my apology sounds rather hollow
If my sorrow sounds somehow remiss
If my excuses sound too hard to swallow
Then it’s likely I’m taking the piss

Ode To The Online Test

I took an online test one day
To see what plant I am.
The site it said I was an oak;
So solid where I stand.

I took an online test one day,
As I’m a Downton fan.
It said I was Dame Maggie Smith;
As strong as any man!

I took an online test one day
To find which beast was I.
It said I was a slimy slug.
A tear fell from my eye.

I took an online test one day
To find which superstar
The site would say I had in me.
The answer, Alan Carr?!

I took another online test
To boost my lagging pride.
To find which Doctor Who was I
McCoy!? That can’t be right?

I took another fucking test:
A city that’s for me.
Paris? New York? Singapore?
Nope. Chavton-by-the-Sea.

And yet another online test
To find my social class.
The answer was more working class
Than Danny Dyer’s arse.

Another fucktard online test
To find who next I’d kiss!
Results came in and next in line:
A swift one off the wrist.

I searched and searched for online tests
To guide me on my way.
I took a test, I filled some forms
To pass my empty day.

I understand it’s total bull;
10 questions on a site,
Set by some fat, greasy spod
Who’s never seen day light.

Yet when I find I’ve been defined;
An answer that makes sense!
Fuck my doubts, it’s on Facebook,
I’m telling all my friends!

Insomnia

Sleeping don’t come easy,
Insomnia attacks!
I’ve counted sheep, I’ve had a weep
But still I can’t relax.

Sleeping don’t come simple,
Restlessness invades!
It then devours the wee small hours;
All hope for slumber fades.

Sleeping ain’t so basic
When your mind’s like mine.
A trackless train, a fucked up brain,
Quite tangled by design.

Sleeping ain’t plain sailing
When the hull, it leaks.
A sinking boat that just won’t float
Whilst cruising up shit creek.

“Sleeping”, said The Sandman,
“Is what I give to thee”.
With some affront, the sandy cunt
Forgot to give to me.

So waking is my torture,
I’m feeling quite unwell.
While you all snooze, I sing the blues
And damn you all to Hell!

To Be Wanted

Have you ever been some fella’s fantasy?
Have you ever been some chappie’s dream?
Have you ever been some bloke’s sweet pudding,
That he’s wanted to cover in cream?

Have you ever been some lady’s Christian
While she sets out some Fifty Shades scene?
Have you ever been some madam’s Heinz sauce
While she flicks on a juicy baked bean?

Have you ever been some grandad’s craving
While the dead start to rise from beneath?
Have you ever been some granny’s yearning
While she spits out her shiny new teeth?

Have you caused nuns to break vows of silence
As thoughts of you cause howls & cries?
Have you ever been some trannie’s hunger
While he takes out his meaty surprise?

Everyone needs to feel wanted,
To feel that perchance they’re a dish.
Everyone privately hopes that
They’re somebody’s secret wank wish.

All Works Copyright © 2017 Benedict Francis

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