Poetry: The Essex lion

Inevitable, really, after this story:


The Essex lion

People of Essex, do not be afraid!
The lion is a cat called Teddy Bear.
The big animal threat has begun to fade.
People of Essex, do not be afraid!
OK, we admit our binoculars were mislaid
and you can go about without a care.
The lion is a cat called Teddy Bear.

People of Essex, do not be afraid!

Poetry: Scrummy

In response to the Poetry School's tweeted challenge to make a poem out of this collection of words used in Jamie Oliver's restaurants, a hasty first draft:

Scrummy

My squeeze’s bliss is lively and silky.
My fancy’s legendary tasty sprinkle
melts in the mouth, slamming
a splash of something wicked, juicy
and fresh into rocking, radical magic.
It’s outrageous the way
her pinch can be tender and lush.

Her pimp is dished up hearty:
a mega messy dollop. Marvellous.
My treasure, you’re feel good,
harmonious and awesome.
Now let’s make things classic,
proper rustic and beautiful.

Poetry: #freepussyriot

Your mitre is your balaclava
Your crook is the
crook of the crooked
Your signing of the cross
is your jerking of limbs
Your intoning of mass
is your punk prayer
Your degraded moral feelings
are your degradation
Your cathedral is your prison
Who breaks a pussy on an altar?
Your saviour disowns you
You are a patriarch
You are a hooligan
motivated by religious hatred

Poetry: Olymerick

There once were two Olympic mascots,
cyclops called Mandeville and Wenlock.
Expensively cute
in their one-piece suits,
they dared us not to call them cocks.