There was a nation, so bad,
That thought it was superior; a cad
Until it was challenged one day,
By a country far away,
And it made them ever so MAD.
************************
Grunge
There was a country called GRUNGE,
That thought it would be so much fun,
Interfering with the lives,
Of people far and wide,
That’s Grunge, the country having fun.
(It’s a funny old world, isn’t it?)
There is a country so bold
There is a country, so bold,
As to meddle with nations of the world,
It thinks it is right,
In every single fight,
It starts in this crazymad world.
***********************
Enslaved by the IMF
There once was a nation so small,
We hardly knew it at all,
Until one day while alone,
It was liberated, at home,
Now they are enslaved by the IMF
************************
Donkra
There was a donkey named Fred,
Who got his lady friend, a zebra, into bed.
Several months later on Donkra was born,
And Fred gasped, was it something I said?
********************
FIRE!
A chemist, a shopkeeper and a teacher were sentenced to death by firing squad. The chemist was taken from his cell and as the soldiers took aim he shouted “Avalanche!” The soldiers panicked and in the confusion the chemist escaped. The shopkeeper was led out next. As the soldiers took aim he shouted “Flood!” and escaped. The teacher was then lead out. The squad took aim and the teacher, remembering how the other two had escaped, shouted “Fire!”
***************
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where you can purchase my eBooks
**********
I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU CALL ME
AS LONG AS YOU ENJOY READING MY STORIES.
A Slug Called Reilly
There once was a slug called Reilly,
Who was incredibly slimy,
He thought he was smart,
Going out in the dark,
Until he fell down in a hole, did Reilly.
*
While stuck in that dark place,
Reilly thought about his life and his fate,
About the jerk he had been,
To everyone he had seen,
So he promised to be good, did Reilly.
*
Suddenly, a stick falling into the hole,
Presented a way to escape from it all,
Freed from that space,
Reilly forgot his promise, though great.
And returned to his bad ways, did Reilly.
*
One day when Reilly was alone,
He forgot to cover up his dank home,
It was an incredibly hot day,
The sun shone brightly away,
Drying him up, that slug, old Reilly,
*
The moral of my story is this,
Treat everyone you meet with a wish,
That their life is just fine,
Untroubled by lying and slime,
Don’t end up like silly old Reilly.
****************
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where you can purchase my eBooks
**********
I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU CALL ME
AS LONG AS YOU ENJOY READING MY STORIES.
Giggle My Boots
Giggle My Boots
Giggle my boots, gaggle my hat,
Goggle my shirtsleeves and fraggle that cat.
I am friggled with laughter, for I know that it’s true,
That you really do love me, not Johnny Lazoo.
*
You see, Johnny Lazoo, a man of some strength,
Wanted to court you, wanted to bend,
Your ear with his stories, your eye with his looks,
But you never gave him as much as a look.
*
The day that you said, ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, I will,’
Was the happiest day of my life; it was brill,
To think that you chose me over Johnny Lazoo,
Makes me friggle with laughter, knowing it’s true.
*
Before I heard off with my bride and my life,
I will give you this piece of excellent advice.
If you are planning to woo your beau, here’s the rub,
Friggle her with laughter and griggle her with love.
********************
Click HERE to visit my online book shop,
where you can purchase my eBooks
**********
I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU CALL ME
AS LONG AS YOU ENJOY READING MY STORIES.
Life
Life
By W T Goodge
Infant; teething,
Thrush and croup,
Schoolboy; marbles,
Top and hoop,
Youth; sweet picnics,
Cigarettes,
Cricket, football,
Sundry bets!
*
Young man; courtship,
Lovely she,
Married; youngsters,
Two or three,
Worry, trouble,
Smile and frown,
“In memoriam,
William Brown!”
***********************
The Green Eye Of The Little Yellow God
The Green Eye Of The Little Yellow God
By
There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There’s a little marble cross below the town;
There’s a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.
He was known as “Mad Carew” by the subs at Khatmandu,
He was hotter than they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his foolish pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And the Colonel’s daughter smiled on him as well.
He had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearly twenty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.
He wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Carew;
They met next day as he dismissed a squad;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But the green eye of the little Yellow God.
On the night before the dance, Mad Carew seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars:
But for once he failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then went out into the night beneath the stars.
He returned before the dawn, with his shirt and tunic torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day,
And the Colonel’s daughter watched beside his bed.
He woke at last and asked if they could send his tunic through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying “That’s from Mad Carew,”
And she found the little green eye of the god.
She upbraided poor Carew in the way that women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet;
But she wouldn’t take the stone and Mad Carew was left alone
With the jewel that he’d chanced his life to get.
When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the barrack square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro’ the gloom.
His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp’ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew,
‘Twas the “Vengeance of the Little Yellow God.”
There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There’s a little marble cross below the town;
There’s a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.
**********
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 