John Halligan to publish his poems!

Smiley Burnett

on the morning that Ireland buries its nobel laureate, we get the news that john halligan td is to publish a book of his poems!!!!

"THERE ONCE WAS A MAN FROM NANTUCKET
WHO KEPT ALL HIS CASH IN A BUCKET
BUT HIS DAUGHTER NAMED NAN
RAN AWAY WITH A MAN
AND AS FOR THE BUCKET, NAN TUCKET"

fricatus

What's to say that Halligan isn't a fine (or at least passable) poet in his own right?

You're clearly not though!

stefan idiot jones

Mary had a little lamb,
she also had a duck.
She put them in a room together,
to see if they would........

CardBordWindow

stefan idiot jones wrote: »

Mary had a little lamb,
she also had a duck.
She put them in a room together,
to see if they would........

cluck?

longshanks

stefan idiot jones wrote: »

Mary had a little lamb,
she also had a duck.
She put them in a room together,
to see if they would........

cook?

for the room was not a room pre se.
No really, it was an oven.
And to feast on Mary's duck & lamb
they say was to taste heaven.

jonnyfingers

Mary had a little skirt,
It was slit right up the sides,
And every time she wore that skirt,
The boys could see her thighs.

Mary had another skirt,
It was slit right up the front,

...But she never wore that one!

MRnotlob606

yes yes keep em coming

LuckyFinigan

There once was a man with a tash,
who went out on the lash,
he went down to Masons,
he got sick into a basin,
and when home and fell into the bath.

stefan idiot jones

Scab and matter custard,
snot and bogey pie.
Dead dog's giblets,
green cat's eyes.
Spread it on bread,
spread it on thick.
Then was it all down,
with a cup of cold sick.


Fungus the bogeyman. Thirty odd years ago.

spankmemunkey

stefan idiot jones wrote: »

Scab and matter custard,
snot and bogey pie.
Dead dog's giblets,
green cat's eyes.
Spread it on bread,
spread it on thick.
Then was it all down,
with a cup of cold sick.


Fungus the bogeyman. Thirty odd years ago.

Then was it all down? You probably meant wash it all down no?

Curly Judge

There was a young girl from Devizes,
Whose diddies were two different sizes,
One was wizened and small,
and was no use at all.
But the other was big,
and won prizes.

stefan idiot jones

The boy stood on the burning deck,
eating a bag of scallops.
The burning fire went up his leg,
and burnt his #$%^&* *&^%$#@.

waterford

The Legend Of Flying John

Enter John, your average kid,
Ordinary things is what he did;
He went to school, he played sports,
He climbed trees, he built forts.

He played video games, he watched TV,
He was a very ordinary kid, you see.
His room was always messy, too,
He was your average kid, like me and you.

But, oh, how his life would change,
A change that was something magical, something strange,
A change everybody wishes they had,
A change, many would argue, for the good, not bad.

It happened while he was biking home from school one day,
He was just minding his own business, riding his way,
When suddenly in front of him appeared a tall, thin man with messy hair,
Who appeared to be homeless, for dirty rags he did wear.

He smiled a toothless smile and looked straight at John,
“Allow me tu’ intraduce’ mu’ self”, he said, “My name is Don.”
He held out his dirty hand for John to shake,
But John held back for his watch he feared he would take.

“Don’t worry, son.” Said Don with a grin,
“All I need is some money for gin.”
“Get away from me,” said John, “or I’ll hit you with my bat!”
Don laughed heartily and said, “Are ya sure ya want tu’ do that?”

Then John sped away on his green and blue bike,
“Come back, John, I have something I think you’ll like!”
John turned around and said, “How do you know my name?”
“Ah,” Said Don, “this question will drive ya’ insane.”

Now John was curious, and he said,
“Are you trying to mess with my head?”
“No,” he said with a twinkle in his eye,

feargale

In the garden of Eden lay Adam
Complacently stroking his madam,
And loud was his mirth
For he knew that on Earth
There were only two calls and he had 'em.

stefan idiot jones

Mary had a little lamb,
it's fleece was black as charcoal.
Every time she stroked it,
sparks flew out his #$%^&*@#.

waterford

Jack Sprat could eat no fat

His wife could eat no lean

So while Jack is flat

His wife’s the fattest bitch I’ve ever seen

Black Suir

Smiley Burnett wrote: »

on the morning that Ireland buries its nobel laureate, we get the news that john halligan td is to publish a book of his poems!!!!

Does this have anything to do with dodging tax like Bertie with his book. Don't you get tax back if you put together a book.

bullpost

Yum Yum pigs bum
Apple tart and chewing gum