Poetry Blog by John Coopey


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When folks are at work and the kids all in school

Two or three times we will bike, as a rule

From Christchurch to Bournemouth, then Sandbanks and Poole.


For most of the way it’s a ride by the sea

And easy and flattish for Our Gert and me;

We stop at the Chineside for cups of black tea.


Sometimes we have started from Hengistbury Head

Watching as tides between Mudeford...

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(Is he busy?)


 You look a 50’s-style beatnik

Appealing to modern day youth;

You set out your stall as a leader

Not frightened of speaking the truth.


They voted for you in their thousands

They thought that they’d got it sussed

A man who would speak for The Many

The man in whom they could trust.


But where do you go to, my lovely

When awkwardness raises it...

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(A re-post. With its provenance)


This was inspired by a colleague I worked with at the Coal Board who was a Colliery Personnel Manager.  One of his less enviable tasks was to make a home visit to break the news to the wives of miners who had had fatal accidents.  He made the most of a rotten job by shagging a number of them - “in sympathy” we would say.  He wasn’t without scruples, though;...

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The coastal walk from Keyhaven to Lymington-on-Sea

Is something like an eight mile hike - you’ll earn your cup of tea!

We’ve noticed every time we’ve walked its length, Our Gert and me

The harbour’s always half a mile away.


This is a strange phenomenon you’d think cannot be true

But when you’ve done ten minutes then the harbour comes in view

You’d think this can’t be possibl...

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I’m fully with the sisterhood on this, I have to say –

Breast feeding in a public place at any time of day;

So I was most surprised the lady made a big to-do

When I pulled up a comfy chair to get a better view.

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(Margaret Thatcher's lovely eulogy and tribute to the man who kept her in power so effectively)


Benn, the two of us need look no more

We both found what we were looking for

When I faced my darkest hour you helped me stay in power

So you my friend will see, you’ve got a friend in me.


All those times at Labour’s Conference

Causing rifts instead of congruence

With your ...

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(A re-post about disability)


She shuffles as she passes shops along the busy street

Her gait staccato, lurching, as she drags alternate feet

A group of young lads giggle and enjoy the sickening treat

And her dad beside her calls her “Little Elf”.


Her hands are clasped together, fingers crooked, white and thin

A face distorted apeing both a grimace and a grin

A tongue...

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(I am trying to recapture the form that saw my magnum opus "Upskirting" removed from WOL.  This seems to me to be equally offensive but was approved for posting once already in 2013.  Perhaps WOL was a little more sympathetic to irony then).


As you approach twenty-one

Get out there and start to have fun

But before you start kissing

It’s time you should listen

To a father’s advi...

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(I am trying to recapture the form that saw my magnum opus "Upskirting" removed from WOL.  This seems to me to be equally offensive but was approved for posting once already in 2013.  Perhaps WOL was a little more sympathetic to irony then).


As you approach twenty-one

Get out there and start to have fun

But before you start kissing

It’s time you should listen

To a father’s advi...

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I saw this news the other day

Blatedly, I’m sad to say;

An icon of these days the Lilly

Whites of Tottenham called “Gilly”.


An enigma among the crowd

Who’d never chant his name out loud;

But when retired Gilly’s name

Would echo in their halls of fame;


I’ve heard the crowd jeer more than once.

“You poof, Gilzean”. “Gilzean’s a ponce”

The Tottenham fans did ne...

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(My adopted solution to the rabbits I am getting in my garden. For anyone who thinks their meat is made at Tesco's, sanitised and plastic-wrapped. I’ve made one pie already and have two more dead ‘uns in the freezer waiting preparation. I do hope one or two snowflakes are offended by this)


Little Rabbit Fou Fou

I don’t want to see you

Dig up new laid lawn

Then hide beneath my shed...

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He’d never see his classic joke come true while he’s alive,

But mortal flesh may rot away while genius survives.

It nearly happened years ago in 1964

Perhaps this was his mojo,

                   “Forfar 5 – East Fife 4”.


But in the game the other day their cup tie was a draw

And watching from God’s stadium the ghost of Eric saw

The match go on to penalties; the score he ...

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(So we seem to have established that a very graphic poem about slicing up a woman, my last post "Minor Sin", was accepted by the Board of Censors but that my previous poem about taking photos up their skirts was not.  I wonder about this one, also previously posted with no objections, with its obvious superficial racism)


The nation has got in a hell of a state

Let’s get out of Europe an...

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(This one might be a bit of a poser for WOL. I have posted it three times aleady with no objection on each occasion. Presumably it is therefore more acceptable than "Upskirting".  Be warned; it is shocking.  But then that's the skill of language, isn't it?)


The mission’s not impossible; it is not even hard;

I just enact the script for Him - a player, nothing more;

It’s happened in th...

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My little poem “Upskirting” 

Has been censored on here now;

It breached your Code of Conduct,

Though no-one’s told me how.

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This item has been removed by our moderator team because it didn't abide by our Code Of Conduct. Comments may also be deleted.

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To all you brave young shavers contemplating marriage vows

I offer this advice to ward off arguments and rows.

The Vicar he will tell you, ‘‘Marriage is a partnership’’

But very soon you’ll find out when the pretence starts to slip

That your experience mirrors mine which (only half in jest)

Is on every single matter –

I’ve found Our Gert knows best.


You may think the time...

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(prompted by my good friend Anne Staton who provided the idea and the best lines.)


You don’t need this affectation

To help you with your thought control;

Avoid it with more lubrication

Around your nuts and round your hole.

          Hey, Rafa!  Leave your crack alone.

All in all you look a proper prick with that ball.


Is this ritual just fixation

Like tapping dust...

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(This is, in fact, what Abba meant to say)


I had a dream

Of Harry Kane,

He leads the team

At White Hart Lane;

But now it is England that Harry leads

He’s led us to the semis by beating the Swedes;

Under Gareth Southgate we’re starting to believe

That we can win;

At last there’s really nothing England can’t achieve

With Harry in;

I had a dream

Our times come...

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Thank ‘eavens for Tottenham’s boys

For Tottenham’s boys showed England how to play

Thank ‘eavens for Tottenham’s boys

For Harry Kane and Dier and Trippier

They set new records (I’m not talking vinyls)

The goals of each 

Saw England reach

The quarter finals

Thank ‘eavens for Tottenham’s boys

Thank ‘eavens for them all no matter where no matter who

Without them what wou...

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Things went so well on our first date

We dined by candlelight

We’d met across the internet

An Older Singles site.


The wine flowed freely through the night

And conversation too

We hit it off so well the we

Might start our lives anew.


But there’s a saying, though, that’s been

The joke and curse of Man

That if you want to make them laugh

Just tell the Gods y...

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I caught a glimpse of goatsuckers

At dusk the other night,

Appearing as twin phantoms in the

Murky forest light.

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(A song stolen from me by The Beach Boys, when they made “Fun! Fun! Fun!”)


He’s a great little guy and he plays for the Almighty Spurs, now

His speed on the ball is so fast, just a series of blurs, now

He’s the foil for young Harry that coach Pochettino prefers, now

And he’s called Son! Son! Son! - he’s the one who put the Germans away.


The fans throughout Russia are queue...

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(This original was stolen from me by Del Shannon)


When England need a talisman

The nation’s hopes to carry

We turn to one we know who can

That’s Tottenham’s captain, Harry.


Hats off to Harry

He’ll break their heart

He’ll take the best defence and shred it apart;

The Golden Boot

Is Harry’s when he shoot, shoot, shoot, shoots

Hat-trick Harry’s gone and hit the...

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We cycled today on the Brockenhurst Trail

That once carried passengers travelling by rail;

We left from near Holmsley around half past ten

(We’d biked it before and we’ll bike it again)

By tarmac the road was an easier travel

Than fighting the slip of the grit and the gravel;

But after a couple of challenging hills

That tested our stamina and biking skills

It’s on to the Tr...

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(Afficianados of the soft porn mags of the 70's will recall the Letters to the Editor pages. Letters were quite formulaic You pretended they hadn't been cobbled together by a roomful of middle aged hacks as you spanked your monkey but always had the phrase halfway through the story, "Imagine my surprise..."   Fiona Richmond was Men Only's shagnasty but I wrote this away from any research material ...

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(If you don't know who Lev Yashin is you soon will.  He is the "poster boy" for this year's World Cup. As a schoolboy who played in goal I wanted to be him. Everyone did)



It’s commonly known a group’s drummer is never quite right in the head

And likewise a football team’s goalie, of which something similar is said.

And it’s opport...

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We sat in our garden – that’s Our Gert and me

And took home-made tiffin with cups of black tea;

The sun barely showed – a bright haze at the most

But its heat was pervading and cloying and close;

The breeze did its best to bring cooling chill

But the leaves on the cherries stayed stubbornly still.

A day to enjoy though the prospect might irk

Those who are younger and all out a...

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Don’t know why

You would think I would lie ‘bout

Stormy Daniels;

She just gave me oral and manual.

A big mistake of mine.


First finger pie

And then I’d supply

Stormy Daniels

With a snorter or two of white granules;

A big mistake of mine.


She drained me dry

With kinky sex I would try with

Stormy Daniels,

Her sister and two cocker spaniels;

A big m...

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Several of the formative experiences of my earlier years took place on Friday afternoons in the Admiral Duncan, Hyson Green, Nottingham.  The place would be crowded with blokes awaiting the arrival and subsequent deshabille of the day’s stripper.

A particular favourite of mine and many of the others was a woman in her late 20’s I’d guess, whose name has faded into the mists of my youth but whos...

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(Actually, we did both finish.  But you can't let the facts get in the way of a good yarn)


We did the Selby Bike Ride, Flatfoot Sam and me;

We thought we’d raise a bob or two for children’s charity.

It’s called the Candlelighters and worthy of our quids,

Supporting those with cancer – a horrid thing for kids.


The other cyclists looked real pro in Spandex they’d all have


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When I was made redundant after twenty years in the mining industry, I became a self-employed interim manager and did this for a further twenty years.

Interim management is, as the name suggests, what Rafa Benitez did at Chelsea – taking on a managerial role on a short-term basis.

The disadvantage of this is that there is no security.  After your contracts up, or even before sometimes, ...

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My eye was taken by a post about “Subversive Verse –

A Night of Edgy Poetry”; I thought I could do worse.

I found the place, I got a drink and paid the entrance fee

Then settled down to listen to this edgy poetry.

A bloke got up to waft his arms and thus began his rants

And followed up his diatribe with more that’s just as pants.

A second poet took the stage.  Let’s see what...

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Jojo was a man who thought himself as English

Despite his Caribbean past;

Jojo left his home in Kingston, Jamaica

And married a Tottenham lass.

Jojo paid in full his fare to board the Windrush

In June of 1948;

Jojo was invited by the Mother Country

Jojo simply couldn’t wait.

Jojo worked for 30 years on London buses –

A grafter he would never shirk

Jojo took a pride i...

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(I’ve always thought that literature lacked a fusion poem marrying a certain country and western singer with the achievements of Admiral Nelson and my Hampton.  This is my attempt to address this.)


I have a certain body part to which I’m quite attached

And as a Rear Admiral I think he can’t be matched;

So to this country singer this tribute I apply

So I call my willy Nelson cos he...

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Let me say from the off that I hadn’t paid for a haircut in thirty years.  Our Gert had always cut mine with a Remington set to No 3 all over.  The downside has been that I missed some young bint pushing her baps in my ears while asking me about my holidays.  There’s not quite the same frisson with the wife.  But the upside has been that it’s free, albeit a little vigorous and my head resembled a ...

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Our Gert’s and my combined age is about 120. I would reckon, though, that puts us about 30 years light of the average combined age of couples on this Caravan Club site. You can see in their faces what they’re thinking when we ride our bikes. “Young hooligans!”

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You say that we spun it (say we spun it)

That’s poppycock

We know that you done it (know you done it)

With your Novichok (your Novichok)

Cos it reeks of

Vlad All Over

It’s got

Vlad All Over

No, it’s not Sharapova

Of the Eastern bloc.


You authorised Skripal (Sergei Skripal)

But she got in the way

Assad gassed his people (gassed his people)

He’s your proté...

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(A reminiscence from my time as Verger at Selby Abbey)


Since I’ve been verger at Selby Abbey I’ve encountered, as with any new job, a bewildering volume of jargon.

Church jargon, though, borrows from centuries of history and is therefore richer still.

Today, for instance, I laid and relaid the Eucharist tray with its chalice, paten, purificators, corporal and ciborium.

The first s...

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He surely must now feel the heat

Or is he just in self-deceit

He’s under pressure that’s a fact

And yet continues not to act.


For example, Livingstone

It’s been two years with nothing done

Even Momentum pressed

He’s facing such unrest.


Has he lost touch?

He never does much:

Is he just a

Bag of bluster

Is he in a

Frightened fluster

He does nothin...

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We’ve got a brand new gadget, a proper Budget Beater

That’s saving us a fortune – a fitted water meter.

We don’t waste any these days, as once, I guess, we did;

The bill’s now not eight hundred pounds but just two hundred quid.


My garden’s watered sparingly from outside water butts

With rainfall I’ve collected from rooves on sheds and huts.

When once Our Gert would take a ba...

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Catch a cheating star who’s hiding in his pocket tape;

He thought he’d be OK;

He scratched a little scar on the ball you bowl in cricket

To help its flight to swing away.

But TV cameras caught his little con tricks,

To his surprise;

But if your ancestors descend from convicts

You just can’t help but cheat and tell lies.

Catch a cheating star who’s hiding in his pocket tape;


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(My daughter, the intrepid Samantha Coopey, and yours truly will be doing the Selby Bike Ride on May 13 to raise funds for Candlelighters, an organisation supporting youngsters with cancer. If anyone would like to contribute to this worthy cause I have opened a Just Giving page.)


Sammy, Sammy, we’re pedalling, me and you

The Selby Bike Ride and raising a bob or two;

The charity that ...

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A short Iron Age story


The mark was as sure a sign from the Gods as ever they gave.  It hung like a purple fruit from beneath the child’s eye to its jawbone.  When its mother saw it she screamed in anguish.  The father turned his back in shame and left the hut.


But whilst the signs of the Gods may be clear for all to see their meaning is not and as the Priest extended his hands to ...

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When wear and tear determines that your old belt’s days are done

(Perhaps the holes have widened or the buckle pin has gone)

So when you walk for twenty yards they drop down past your bum

Then obligation places

A need on sturdy braces,


But if you’re quite an active chap or handy just like me

You’ll find that when you bend and stretch the snap-ons just snap free;

One nearl...

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(Nothing on the page but a Nine Freight in performance)


Slowly - ever so slowly - inching on our way;

Destination Whitby, vivid Autumn day.

Scenery magnificent, weather matching too,

Clouds of alto cirrus, sky of china blue.


Picking up momentum now, further down the line,

Engine snorting like a mare in steady 4/4 time.

Leaning from a window, moorland coasting by,


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(In support of the sisters)


Raise your voices; sisters speak!

International Women’s Week.

Banish weakness.  Let’s be strong.

Time to right what has been wrong.

Linking arms in sisterhood,

Pledged to Justice, pledged to Good.

Standing proud and standing tall,

The worth of one the strength of all

Yellow, brown or black or white

Joined together in the fight.


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I won a brand new jig saw in a raffle at a “do”;

I couldn’t wait to use it to see what it could do.

Then came the opportunity – we laid a hardwood floor

With planks to fit round obstacles – a chance to use my saw.

I made some silly errors but of a minor sort;

I gave myself 9 out of 10 to cut the story short.


But when the floor was finished it’s then that Our Gert saw

A th...

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(An oldie but a topical goldie)


As we crunched through snow together

In inclement Arctic weather,

I thought I’d bring to mind an Old Icelandic song;

There’s a saga of the Viking

That you need to heed when hiking

That “Pissing in His Boots -

Keeps No Man Warm for Long”.


In Nordic runes it’s written

That if your foot’s frost-bitten

Don’t fumble with your flaps...

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(And Who Forced Them To Get On It?)


“Come join me on my casting couch; come sit by me, m’dear;

I’m really quite avuncular; there’s nothing you need fear”.


“Oh, please sir, I remain unsure; I fear that isn’t so.

My mother always cautioned me, ‘The casting couch? Say No!’”


"You have no need to think I’ll hurt or harm you. Lordy Lord!

It’s just a game of dice we’ll pl...

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