Poetry ressurected

1

Irwins wife - by ball ox

irwins wife
will exist in strife
since Stevie lost his life
Not to a knife
but to some wildlife

Imagine the irony to be seen,
That it did not happen thus, his fans are keen.
Some other way perhaps, with a yelp and a scream,
Involving a gun or even a conveyer-belt machine

Imagine the irony to behold
“Killed by a fish” his wife was told.
Better get back to Rolf Harris, or the bed 'll go cold
He should’ve quit, years ago; thrown in the towel, or simply said “Fold”

2

Genius, ballox.

Eventhough nobody seconded my nomination fos you as ‘thefreekick.com’ poet laureate postion, you should be our resident poet.

3

Last Night - by ball ox

To the harbo we went last night
Me, blake and lyons, talking shite
All was well, all was quiet
Until later in the night when i got a fright:

I ordered some wings; as ive done of old
Imagine my horror to behold
“Sorry Sir, Kitchen is closed” I was told
So i finished my pint, and went out, into the cold

(Ohhh, atmospheric)

So on the way home, i did a “Mickey Dees”
“A big mac meal with sprike, Please”
“Sorry sir, we only speak Chinese”
If i dont get some food i’ll fall to my knees

So around the corner i did hop
And then i seen a londis corner shop
So into it i did pop
Bought a bag of Tayto and a yop

4

Today at lunchtime, let me begin
We went to the harbo again
only to be told: “No room at the inn”

To the hostess i began to spake:
“do you know who i am, a friend of eamonn blake”
“sorry sir, but all i can say is a stool at the bar you must take”
“Im not doing that im a regular for fook sake”

so to the excise, my way i did make
The barman said “free deserts today - your choice of cake”

So next time yer hungry open yer eyes
dont go to the harbo; go to the excise,
get the carvery and dont pay for the pies

Bad darts from the Harbo all round
Pity to be treated thus on my homeground
Especially when you condider a pint is nearly five pound

The fat bastard barman there is a dick;
when i order i pint he makes me wanna get sick

Its about time for this riddle to close
but before i do, take note of my prose
Next time that barman makes an unbecoming pose
Smile politey then BAMMM! break his fooking nose

5

Weren’t they just.

6

You are one sad knob jockey…

7

You are of no relevance, go back to your hole you cretin

8

+1, fook aff and eat your choco doodle off!

9

Some of that stuff from Ball Ox is quality

10

This is the sort of top drawer poetry that ought to be brought into the current leaving cert curriculum, quality stuff puts Yeats/Kavanagh and the likes in the shade

11

Ball Ox is a pox
He sucks cocks
Down by the docks
In his socks
Then pulls down his jocks
And takes it up his box
Shot up like botox
Then gets dumped on the rocks

13

:eek: