Edwin Saxton–The Poeming Genius
Poeming is for life. And pretentious cunts! And weirdos. I'm a bit of everything…
A trip to Pompeii.
By tooth or claw;
A sombre mantra,
So often seen,
In days of doubt.
If you cared a jot,
You wouldn’t go.
Uncle John.
“Go forth”, say I!
Choke on a knob;
Corn on the cob.
Cup your ball;
You only have one.
Whatever should I do?
They stole my tin.
Now she asks why.
What do I tell her, bro?
Fu Manchu.
Yeah, thanks. Wanker!
Mock the spastic;
You know you will.
Spread the piccalilli,
On your chalot.
Colin!
Bastard!
Get your fingers,
Out of your tooter.
Can I borrow,
Your sock, sock, sock,
Sock, sock, sock, sock,
SOCK!!!
Undoubtedly,
This was Eggbert’s,
Finest hour.
That was until,
Little Tommy Two-Shits,
Rocked up.
As we know,
Little Tommy Two-Shits,
Is better than you.
If you’ve been for one shit,
He’s been for two.
Drink from your poisoned chalice,
Foolish boy!
Ignore the burn,
As it slips into your stomach.
The pain,
That shall follow,
Will be worth,
The moment of bliss!
From one nonce,
To another:
I like little boys’ bottoms.
Justin Fletcher,
And Blippi.
Arsenic.
Haha—domestic abuse.
Get ready fer this,
Yer sucker!
Skint twits,
Giant nits,
Droopy clits,
And saggy tits.
Hairy balls,
Graffiti’d walls,
Booty calls,
And Eyeball Pauls.
Drop the needle,
On the wax.
Spin that shit;
Kick back, relax.
Back in time,
Is where we go;
To times of yore;
To times we know.
In walks a slut;
Her legs are shut.
No offence, but,
Where do I nut?
Open ’em wide;
Welcome me inside.
She can’t hide,
Although she tried.
All I want,
Is a damned good shag.
No nice girls thanks;
I just want slags.
Skanky harpies,
Are where my hat lays.
You can save the sweet ones,
For the fucking gays!
Wisdom of elders,
And we’ll ignore,
Their dementia.
Stupid, owd bedshitters!
Show me your cunt.
If you aren’t a slut,
You can piss off!
Slappers and slags,
Need only apply.
Bounce on my,
Ginger bollocks.
Leave it out, Baz.
It ain’t worth it.
Plus, he has leprosy.
Finish your pint,
Then we’ll move on.
AWOL.
A Way of Life.
Up the Khaiber.
Up yer Ronson.
The monkey’s chuff.
Colinflower.
Just do it.
Stop making excuses,
And slice them.
The police won’t,
Find out.
If they do,
We’ll shank the twats!
Over to you,
In the studio…
If I eat,
A bacon sandwich,
Is it antisemitic?
To the man,
Who calls himself,
Manager:
I hope you get,
Poked in the eye,
With a katana!
Diocese!
A proletarian view,
Wasted on the ideal,
Of first come,
First served.
Elastomer agrees.
Wheat and piss.
Hitler was great.
A lovely man.
Better than Jesus anyway.
Touch the arse.
Does it smell?
You wanker!
All I ever dreamed of,
Was holding a,
Dead puppy,
But it was alive.
Thesaurus Rex.
Bees are abuzz,
With fluffy wonder;
Drones drone,
All alone.
Onto the next,
I suppose.
Onto something,
A little more,
Serious.
Did we ever discover,
If Dankle Wheezemop,
Was the infamous,
Roof tile thief?
Take an antacid,
And stop whining!
Goodness gracious!
What a terrible mess!
Ostrich feathers,
And gloom juice,
Combine to make,
A substance hitherto,
Unknown to science.
A pair of glassus.
“Can I,”
She started,
“Borrow,”
She continued,
“Your sock?”
She asked.
Infertility,
Is no laughing matter.
Tee-hee-hee.
Codswallop!
Finger us arse.
Get a dildo,
And poke yourself,
In the eye.
Wand; wand;
A magic wand.
Phil Mitchell,
And Grant,
Causing havoc,
In a nursing home.
If Bill is Ben,
And Mario is Luigi,
Who’s Larry?
LARRYYYYYYYY!!!
Peanuts,
Go on the outside,
Of the clothes,
You stupid twat!
Shell suit.
Heroes in a house shell.
Shelley Duvall.
Shellfish.
Shelf.
A shoe,
With shit on the sole,
Stood on the,
Shagpile rug.
Dhole shit,
No less.
Tinker, tailor,
Soldier, cardinal.
Let us go to,
The Bishop’s Secret,
For pints and a chat.
I have a plan!
Bunions,
Of all things!
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
I never met Bram Stoker,
Thanks to Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
I lost a game of poker,
Because of Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Colombians harvest coca,
All for Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Batman defeated Joker,
With help from Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
My brother’s a stock broker,
In homage to Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
I started wearing a choker,
To turn on Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
My dad is a weed smoker,
To appease Nigel Reo-Coker.
Nigel Reo-Coker;
Nigel Reo-Coker;
The incessant snoring woke her,
Now she’s Nigel Reo-Coker.
Which came first:
Cheese or chives?
Rapid Response Team.
Swagger Jagger.
Ninety-six.
Over to you,
In the studio,
Rick Gothenberg.
Meet your maker,
iPod Shuffle.
“Fuck you, Steve Jobs!
You’re a cunt!
And you smell!”
Blimey!
A bit o’ gratitude,
Wouldn’t have gone amiss…
Ninety-six.
Walk into the pit,
Filled with shit.
The whole thing.
Burgers from Wimpy;
Ren & Stimpy.
Ninety-six.
Thought you’d won,
But your arse,
Was too hairy.
Shoot a load,
Up your mum’s twat.
Impregnate her.
Have a brother-son,
Louisiana man.
Retrograde orbit,
Is what the tangerine,
Went into around,
Mercury.
Imagine that:
A tangerine moon.
Flick the bean!
Grope the nurse.
Massive tits.
A sad story,
Of halitosis,
And a wasted dream.
Will you have,
The strength inside,
To drape a bollock,
Over each of her eyes?
Norm from Cheers;
Ray from Ghostbusters.
Dick in hand,
With warts all,
Over it.
Abreeeeeeeeeeeee!
Dropsy.
Bloody dropsy,
I tell thee!
Edwin Saxton–The Poeming Genius 