Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
The wirld is cankard, rott'n n' bleedin from all its slashed'n torn out vanes;
we, you an'me, we live on scabs that crack beneath our fungus'd feet.
An' oo cares? Yer all insane.
Ah once knew what ah was up agin. You was younger then, 'n sweet
as vurgin's milk; an' I sucked yuh till yer tits ran dry an' yuh had nowt more.
Now all that's gone..a empty teet.
The's bin a year or two since then, fuck the sods 'oo brought'us war!
Ah only got a gut of hate, as if ah needed more to loathe.
Oo' cares? No bugger, any more!
The pox is on us all 'oo screw an'oo get screwed, ah must suppose.
So what's the pleshure left in life, what's the point at all?
Yuh shag around, yuh get a dose.
Ay, get me dead and get me out oh this oozin', festrin' pit.
You bastards oo' are skimmin' it
can lick my arse; try rimmin it!
Ah've ad' enough, ah'm wingin' it,
you can'ave this crock o'shit!
tectak
2005
A repost in memoriam. 20th anniversary. John Miles Longden. Poet and friend. Died 1993
Posts: 378
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Joined: Mar 2013
¿Qué?
Yo no comprende
Idon' git disshit mane.. wat da hell 'you tryna say?
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(04-24-2013, 07:08 AM)trueenigma Wrote: ¿Qué?
Yo no comprende
Idon' git disshit mane.. wat da hell 'you tryna say?
lol also 
Posts: 23
Threads: 11
Joined: Jan 2013
Nah then appen si thi, a reet gradely read, tek away sexual connotations an bugger is a great werd. thenjoyed
(04-24-2013, 05:06 AM)tectak Wrote: The wirld is cankard, rott'n n' bleedin from all its slashed'n torn out vanes;
we, you an'me, we live on scabs that crack beneath our fungus'd feet.
An' oo cares? Yer all insane.
Ah once knew what ah was up agin. You was younger then, 'n sweet
as vurgin's milk; an' I sucked yuh till yer tits ran dry an' yuh had nowt more.
Now all that's gone..a empty teet.
The's bin a year or two since then, fuck the sods 'oo brought'us war!
Ah only got a gut of hate, as if ah needed more to loathe.
Oo' cares? No bugger, any more!
The pox is on us all 'oo screw an'oo get screwed, ah must suppose.
So what's the pleshure left in life, what's the point at all?
Yuh shag around, yuh get a dose.
Ay, get me dead and get me out oh this oozin', festrin' pit.
You bastards oo' are skimmin' it
can lick my arse; try rimmin it!
Ah've ad' enough, ah'm wingin' it,
you can'ave this crock o'shit!
tectak
2005
A repost in memoriam. 20th anniversary. John Miles Longden. Poet and friend. Died 1993
never make someone your priority when to them you are only an option
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(04-25-2013, 01:37 AM)Smiffy Wrote: Nah then appen si thi, a reet gradely read, tek away sexual connotations an bugger is a great werd. thenjoyed
(04-24-2013, 05:06 AM)tectak Wrote: The wirld is cankard, rott'n n' bleedin from all its slashed'n torn out vanes;
we, you an'me, we live on scabs that crack beneath our fungus'd feet.
An' oo cares? Yer all insane.
Ah once knew what ah was up agin. You was younger then, 'n sweet
as vurgin's milk; an' I sucked yuh till yer tits ran dry an' yuh had nowt more.
Now all that's gone..a empty teet.
The's bin a year or two since then, fuck the sods 'oo brought'us war!
Ah only got a gut of hate, as if ah needed more to loathe.
Oo' cares? No bugger, any more!
The pox is on us all 'oo screw an'oo get screwed, ah must suppose.
So what's the pleshure left in life, what's the point at all?
Yuh shag around, yuh get a dose.
Ay, get me dead and get me out oh this oozin', festrin' pit.
You bastards oo' are skimmin' it
can lick my arse; try rimmin it!
Ah've ad' enough, ah'm wingin' it,
you can'ave this crock o'shit!
tectak
2005
A repost in memoriam. 20th anniversary. John Miles Longden. Poet and friend. Died 1993
Thanks for the comment. This was written on a warm day in 2005 sitting on a chestnut-shaded village-green seat, and recalled sitting in the same place with John Miles Longden. The year was, I believe, around 1968.
Please note that these are MY words, not his. It is, though, the story he told me that day. I do not recall if it was about him or someone he knew. For me, when I wrote this, it was a small tribute to a poet I had the utmost respect for.
I cannot claim to be able to emulate his colloquial yet ubiquitous vernacular...so I don't.
As an example of spoken English, you quite obviously related to the unpretentious Yorkshire turn of phrase. We were in North Yorkshire as John related the story. 'Ee loved wirds as spoke.
Best,
tectak
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