Mark SteeleBubble Bursts
April 9th 2010 10:17
Bye to Ian, Terry and Co.!!!!!
| 104 |
| Vote |
Add Comments
The Truth Behind The Lighthouse (final installment)
April 9th 2010 09:44
His golden ways are prize enough, I need no more than that
Enfolding praise, to rise and puff, conceded boring tat
Should pages make the leap to print, I'll stay so stout and brave
If sages take my heap of mint and pay it out to Dave
Around those keen and sporty blokes balloon a sea of riches
A pound of Ian's naughty jokes will soon have me in stitches
I could, without a caring friend, succumb to galling colic
Then would, no doubt, despair and end a crumbled alcoholic!
My link with man was treasured much through fair and nasty weather
A drinking fan, in leisured clutch, we'd share a glass together
If left to cope with no support, my life would flow much rougher
Bereft of hope and growing fraught, through strife-filled woe I'd suffer
I'd hate to end up all alone within some house at sea
No native friend to call my own, nor winsome mouse so wee
I'd whinge and lose my head in ever drifting clouds of grey
Then binge on booze in bed and never shift those shrouds away
Before the hour marches late, I'll say goodbye then go
Please draw up power, arching fate to sway you high, not low
I pray you folks enjoyed my weaving verse, in story set
And may crude jokes employed not leave you nursing sore regret!
Take strain in working jolly hard until, in life, retired
Maintain a lurking, solid guard - much will, through strife, required
Don't swallow rum or whisky and ingest no tot of gin
It's hollow, dumb and risky, branded best to not begin
Reduce your wars, for Davey's sake, don't fight then break with friends
If you should cause a grave mistake, see light and make amends
Take care when revels swing too well. don't drench and drown your soul
Beware the Devil's spring from hell to wrench you down his hole!
Let's wrap up verse with cheers, priming leave from cherished house
Each chap then nursing tears - time to grieve for perished mouse
A bracing whisky soda pour - but, wait, we'd better not
I paced that risky road before, the fate I met too hot
With all the best to Ian, Terry, Dave, Sid, Stan and me
Let's haul to rest this keen and merry, brave, rich span at sea
Goodbye we kiss to strife-filled times, all lurking trouble stopped
How I will miss that life of rhyme, this working bubble popped!
Enfolding praise, to rise and puff, conceded boring tat
Should pages make the leap to print, I'll stay so stout and brave
If sages take my heap of mint and pay it out to Dave
Around those keen and sporty blokes balloon a sea of riches
A pound of Ian's naughty jokes will soon have me in stitches
I could, without a caring friend, succumb to galling colic
Then would, no doubt, despair and end a crumbled alcoholic!
My link with man was treasured much through fair and nasty weather
A drinking fan, in leisured clutch, we'd share a glass together
If left to cope with no support, my life would flow much rougher
Bereft of hope and growing fraught, through strife-filled woe I'd suffer
I'd hate to end up all alone within some house at sea
No native friend to call my own, nor winsome mouse so wee
I'd whinge and lose my head in ever drifting clouds of grey
Then binge on booze in bed and never shift those shrouds away
Before the hour marches late, I'll say goodbye then go
Please draw up power, arching fate to sway you high, not low
I pray you folks enjoyed my weaving verse, in story set
And may crude jokes employed not leave you nursing sore regret!
Take strain in working jolly hard until, in life, retired
Maintain a lurking, solid guard - much will, through strife, required
Don't swallow rum or whisky and ingest no tot of gin
It's hollow, dumb and risky, branded best to not begin
Reduce your wars, for Davey's sake, don't fight then break with friends
If you should cause a grave mistake, see light and make amends
Take care when revels swing too well. don't drench and drown your soul
Beware the Devil's spring from hell to wrench you down his hole!
Let's wrap up verse with cheers, priming leave from cherished house
Each chap then nursing tears - time to grieve for perished mouse
A bracing whisky soda pour - but, wait, we'd better not
I paced that risky road before, the fate I met too hot
With all the best to Ian, Terry, Dave, Sid, Stan and me
Let's haul to rest this keen and merry, brave, rich span at sea
Goodbye we kiss to strife-filled times, all lurking trouble stopped
How I will miss that life of rhyme, this working bubble popped!
| 70 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
The Truth Behind The Lighthouse (part 2)
April 8th 2010 09:52
Dave's sought to share with me this butch workout, yet I've said, "Never!"
No sporting care to be with such a lout, all ties to sever
In days gone past, I drank with Dave and felt his friendship solid
But ways deemed nasty, frankly grave, have spelt an end so squalid
This slimy, dreadful, grubby rat has took, through gall, my throne
His crime, to spread the rubbish that this book is all his own
He's loudly faking stories, citing lines that he employed
And proudly taking glories, rightly mine to be enjoyed!
Though roused to storm then cry and curse I should, in note, admit
It's lousy from to lie in verse - my buddy wrote a bit
But I slaved most with greater flair, deserving rampant praise
To sly Dave's boast relate no care, such nerve this scamp displays
But then, perhaps, it's hardly right to call old Dave a liar
Not when the chap's been scarred in sight through fall so grave and dire
That mad descent, to draw a thudding, freakish burst of pain
One sad event my story could not seek, through verse, to feign
This dasher did shove feet downstairs, in tripping bout to fly
To crash amid such heated cares, soon ripping out an eye
He'd just been up to wash and scrub when calling at my place
In lust to sup then nosh his grub had fallen flat on face
I've spared a blow from trusting Dave, my state so sore with sorrow
Though scared, I know I must be brave, not waiting for the morrow
Through drinking rum I'd dropped my key, to kiss the stairway bend
So blinking dumb, not stopped to see how this affair may end!
Dave's foot slipped free from way up high, each thud to smash and hurt
That cutting key in play on eye, one bloody gash to spurt
The pus he shed, though gross, was slight, yet grave and great was pain
And thus it led to loss of sight, my raving mate insane!
Depressed, I've wallowed in mistake, by haunting crime so wrecked
Unrest has followed, sin to snake through taunting time, unchecked
It's plain the day is here for my wrong to be made known
The strain is way too sheer, sore and strong for me alone
I trust, through my confessed disgrace, won't rise depraved attack
Disgust, like fire, pressed to face - my eyes, through Dave, turned black
The chaps had an upsetting time, his sight, in part, destroyed
Perhaps I can forget his crime, with lightened heart enjoyed!
Let good Dave seize the plaudits, reaping fame for verses written
I could, with ease, afford it, sweeping shame to curse for Britain
Thus may he gloat in glory, proud of records filled with rum
To say, "I wrote each story!" loud, through decades, thrilled, to come
No sporting care to be with such a lout, all ties to sever
In days gone past, I drank with Dave and felt his friendship solid
But ways deemed nasty, frankly grave, have spelt an end so squalid
This slimy, dreadful, grubby rat has took, through gall, my throne
His crime, to spread the rubbish that this book is all his own
He's loudly faking stories, citing lines that he employed
And proudly taking glories, rightly mine to be enjoyed!
Though roused to storm then cry and curse I should, in note, admit
It's lousy from to lie in verse - my buddy wrote a bit
But I slaved most with greater flair, deserving rampant praise
To sly Dave's boast relate no care, such nerve this scamp displays
But then, perhaps, it's hardly right to call old Dave a liar
Not when the chap's been scarred in sight through fall so grave and dire
That mad descent, to draw a thudding, freakish burst of pain
One sad event my story could not seek, through verse, to feign
This dasher did shove feet downstairs, in tripping bout to fly
To crash amid such heated cares, soon ripping out an eye
He'd just been up to wash and scrub when calling at my place
In lust to sup then nosh his grub had fallen flat on face
I've spared a blow from trusting Dave, my state so sore with sorrow
Though scared, I know I must be brave, not waiting for the morrow
Through drinking rum I'd dropped my key, to kiss the stairway bend
So blinking dumb, not stopped to see how this affair may end!
Dave's foot slipped free from way up high, each thud to smash and hurt
That cutting key in play on eye, one bloody gash to spurt
The pus he shed, though gross, was slight, yet grave and great was pain
And thus it led to loss of sight, my raving mate insane!
Depressed, I've wallowed in mistake, by haunting crime so wrecked
Unrest has followed, sin to snake through taunting time, unchecked
It's plain the day is here for my wrong to be made known
The strain is way too sheer, sore and strong for me alone
I trust, through my confessed disgrace, won't rise depraved attack
Disgust, like fire, pressed to face - my eyes, through Dave, turned black
The chaps had an upsetting time, his sight, in part, destroyed
Perhaps I can forget his crime, with lightened heart enjoyed!
Let good Dave seize the plaudits, reaping fame for verses written
I could, with ease, afford it, sweeping shame to curse for Britain
Thus may he gloat in glory, proud of records filled with rum
To say, "I wrote each story!" loud, through decades, thrilled, to come
| 76 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
The Truth Behind The Lighthouse
April 7th 2010 09:52
The end is soundly trumpeting for glories piped with pleasure
A blend so round and plump to swing through stories typed to treasure
I must be stout and use this page to free some frank confession[ Click here to read more ]
A blend so round and plump to swing through stories typed to treasure
I must be stout and use this page to free some frank confession
| 124 |
| Vote |
Read More[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
Six Sober Men (part 4)
April 6th 2010 09:37
This churning plight now left to ease, we levered home with dash
The journey quite bereft of breeze, no cleave through foaming lash
We spoke to Ian, Stan and Dave about the test of nerve[ Click here to read more ]
The journey quite bereft of breeze, no cleave through foaming lash
We spoke to Ian, Stan and Dave about the test of nerve
| 47 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
Six Sober Men (part 3)
April 1st 2010 09:30
Six steeled guys, in fight to float, prepared to draw through sea
Yet realised the lighthouse boat would bear no more than three
Though eager for his place each keen and bonny, brave crewman[ Click here to read more ]
Yet realised the lighthouse boat would bear no more than three
Though eager for his place each keen and bonny, brave crewman
| 56 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
Six Sober Men (part 2)
March 27th 2010 10:40
But now I truly feel fate has ended follied games
Through vow to duly heal natures, mending squalid names
Within a trimmer crew I flow, to wake then thrive on water[ Click here to read more ]
Through vow to duly heal natures, mending squalid names
Within a trimmer crew I flow, to wake then thrive on water
| 51 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
Six Sober Men (part 1)
March 25th 2010 10:38
I'd say, no doubt, this draining life demands an iron grit
To stay so stout through strain and strife this band requires wit
In times gone past I'd glide through drink, then moan and start to suffer[ Click here to read more ]
To stay so stout through strain and strife this band requires wit
In times gone past I'd glide through drink, then moan and start to suffer
| 99 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
My Nephew, Neville (part 3)
March 16th 2010 10:54
A zestful tot or three, then plus, saw revels swiftly spread
We blessed the pot of genius in Neville's gifted head
I'd meant to keep my steady wits, till rum infused the gin flow[ Click here to read more ]
We blessed the pot of genius in Neville's gifted head
I'd meant to keep my steady wits, till rum infused the gin flow
| 78 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
My Nephew, Neville (part 2)
March 12th 2010 10:41
We tested Nev on scores of things, to bring ripe hauls of answers
Keen zest to rev through wars and kings of England, also France's
Some gaps, chums learned, were lurking though, through facts this fellow knew[ Click here to read more ]
Keen zest to rev through wars and kings of England, also France's
Some gaps, chums learned, were lurking though, through facts this fellow knew
| 46 |
| Vote |
[ Link ]
Posted By: Mark Steele - Category: No Category
More Posts
6 Posts
5 Posts
12 Posts
47 Posts dating from October 2009
Email Subscription
Receive e-mail notifications of new posts on this blog:
[ View Blog Summary ] [ Create A New Post ]
Mark Steele's Blogs
Moderated by Mark Steele
