Poetry Blog by John Coopey

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Americans are reluctant to remember (or keen to forget) that whole towns were loyal to the British Crown during the War of Independence.  The most notable of these was New York.   (But don't mention it to your cabbie there)


They fled from the murrain that fell on East Ham

By Plymouth and Boston they brought us

And on to this place they called New Amsterdam

To sire we grandsons and...

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It could have been the greatest opportunity of our time for us to “step up to the plate”, as they say, and prove ourselves the match of those generations who have gone before us.

Fathers, grandfathers and great grandfathers responded to their duty (no doubt, reluctantly) shouldering responsibilities to endure extremes of discomfort and sacrifice.

We have failed. We have failed both ourselves...

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It is a well guarded miltary secret that there is a parallax or three-dimensional hole in number sequences. The most used of these is the 29th parallax which is vital for the technology of stealth bombers and other invisible "phenomena".  At the risk of alerting the CIA that this is now in the public domain, I shall try to demonstrate as simply as I can the 29th parallax. (This is the only truly t...

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Worldwide fans of mine will recollect this re-post from my original of 2016 when His Trumpness became POTUS. You may also be aware that the emblem of the Republican Party is an elephant. Sometimes these things fall into your lap from Heaven.


One dark day a Republican caucus came

And brought a belligerent elephant and Donald was his name;

Now today he’s plying his dirty tricks


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WriteOutLoud Women Blues

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A re-post from 2013 and featuring Yours Truly on slide guitar.  I have not had any offers yet.


I want a WriteOutLoud woman to do anything in the world for me

I want a WriteOutLoud woman to do anything in the world for me

She could lick my piece into shape; I mean my poetry.


I’d take down her pantoums and jiggle her spondees for fun

She’d mouth both my rondels and my phaleu...

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A chant I have not heard for almost 60 years.

Playtime was fun and frightening and formative at primary School.  It was a Boys School and play reflected that.

Ad hoc games of football were being played up and down and across the yard.  Picture Manchester United playing Manchester City at Old Trafford while Tottenham played Arsenal across the pitch and several pockets of unrelated kick-a-bout...

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It is with deep regret that I have to tell you that Notcutts Garden Centres have removed the benefit of two free coffees per month from their £12 Loyalty Card.  Gone are the days of two cream teas for £3.50.  It prompted me to dig this out from my Greatest Hits album.


Can any treat make me a more content man

Than clotted cream, scone and blackcurrant jam?

At mid-afternoon on a fine E...

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In 1999 a retired Ohio car worker (but Ukrainian by birth), John Demjanjuk, was accused of being one of the Trawniki at Sobibor concentration camp. These were Eastern European collaborators who assisted in the extermination of Jews on behalf of the Nazis.  He was extradited to Germany to stand trial for war crimes and subsequently found guilty and sentenced to 5 years imprisonment.

But it has a...

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(Day 8 of our 14-day Track and Trace self-isolation)


Crowds that drift their way down the street

Neighbours, friends and relatives that we can’t meet

Just watching the world from this window seat

We ain’t going nowhere.


Oo-wee the beer’s running dry

But tomorrow’s the day that the groceries come

Oo-wee, time ticks by

Slowly in the easy chair.


The garden’s ...

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Of all the things that you’ve ever taken for granted the most wondrous is You.

It’s a pretty good bet that you have never considered how truly amazing you are.

You are made up of billions of atoms, totally inert, lifeless and indestructible.

They have been totally inert, lifeless and indestructible since time began.

They will continue to be so until time runs out.

But for one tiny f...

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My dad got me the job at the pit.  It was a good system.  You knew if you didn’t behave yourself your dad would get to find out and at 17 I wasn’t too old to get a thick ear off him.  What’s more, if you weren’t up to much it would reflect badly on him.  I was one of an intake of half a dozen “juveniles”, all boys – women were prevented from working underground by law.

The first week was spent ...

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There is a counselling trauma line set up for Manchester United fans on 0161 616161.


Oh Happy Day

When Son Heung-min

I said when Son Heung-min

He blew United away.


And Harry Kane

He scores when he wants

I said he scores when he wants

He got a brace today.


What can you say?

We stuffed you for six

Yes we stuffed you for six

It’s such a Happy Day.


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For those of you with a less artistic bent than my good self I thought I would critique Rubens's masterpiece The Three Gracie Fields with a masterpiece of my own. A couple of the hoes are single mums already and have shamelessly brung their whelps along to the shag fest - a scene re-enacted most Saturday nights in the backyard of The Cock and Pullet, Donny.


An expanse of alabaster


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I confess that the transphobia kerfuffle with JK Rowling largely passed me by, so I’ll admit to being a bit shaky on the facts of the story.  As I understand it, JKR lampooned the fabricated terminology and imagery of menstruation rather than calling a spade a “woman” and for this she was accused of transphobia.

Let me say from the off that I have no issue with anyone getting a new willy or fan...

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It’s cold and grey

In Cayton Bay;

It’s coming, there’s no doubt;

For no-one braves

The North Sea waves;

Best get the gansey out.

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I am amused by conspiracy theories.  Well, not the theories themselves which are unsubstantiated bollocks but by conspiracy theorists.

My son-in-law-to-be is one.  Nothing passes him by – the moon landings, JFK’s assassination, crop circles and, of course, Covid 19.  At first it was 5G signal masts, now it’s lab-produced in China for the purpose of bankrupting the West.

And I love it.  I lik...

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Me and Our Gert aren’t the soppy, sentimental types that go overboard with posh cards that cost a quid or more for each other.  But seeing as it was our ruby wedding anniversary a couple of weeks ago I thought it might be a bit off if I didn’t get her a card at least.

Unfortunately, I forgot.

Luckily, she keeps a stack for all eventualities in the sideboard – weddings, birthdays, In Deepest ...

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A re-post from a few years ago.  The George and Dragon is shut now.


Tuesday night at the G & D

Quiz and supper for 50p

Will we win?  We’ll have to see

When the marking’s done.

The team’s the same usually

Comprised of friends and family

All G & D devotees

We don’t half have some fun.


Besides myself there’s Phil and Glen

(We knock on questions 1 to 10)


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A re-post from my Greatest Hits Volume 1 collection to mark the start, meteorologically speaking, of Autumn.


The scene was a canvas autumnal

Not yet with crimson and gold,

The swirl of the dead leaves so pitiful,

Life’s paucity there to behold;

When adding itself to the monochrome

Of the blacks and whites and the greys

Came hopping along a lone magpie,

Out of the mist ...

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Here’s something that you never knew you needed.

It’s a contoured cushion that you place between your thighs to help with your leg posture while you’re asleep.  The idea is that it keeps your legs (specifically your tib and fib) parallel while you are asleep on your side.

You shove it tight underneath your crotch.  And at £19.99 it’s not to be sniffed at.

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I pride myself on living by a code from days gone by

When gentlemen were gentlemen – at least, I always try;

But times and attitudes have changed from when I was a youth

I often feel quite left behind; this verse will offer proof.


While shopping at the local Spar I’d bought a thing or two

And patiently I waited for my turn within the queue;

I stood behind a woman, quite attr...

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We really did have a pet caiman called “Snappy”, although “pet” is a bit strong; it didn’t come when you whistled or fetch sticks.  And “we” was my brother-in-law.  But it really did live in a tank in our front room and stopped passers-by in their tracks.

It was about 3 feet long when we gave it to Flamingoland, with half its length being tail.

We fed it on raw meat but, from time to time, o...

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A re-post from days when I had good dreams.


I woke excited this morning.

You know, excited down there;

I’d dreamt of us being together,

Aroused by the scent of your hair.


We walked hand-in-hand so slowly

Soaked to the bone by the rain

Its rivulets streamed down your forehead

We laughed and were twenty again.


The street turned into a bedroom

So seamless ...

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With our 40th wedding anniversary ominously looming, a love poem to the lovely but irascible Mrs C.  A courageous re-post.


You’ll not know what’s going on

She’s been so quiet all night long

A proper lady to wine and dine

But very soon she’ll probably decide to throw a wobbly

She gets crazy, crazy, crazy when she’s Out of Wine.

Crazy, crazy, crazy when she’s Out of Wine

I ...

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We all recollect from our earlier days

In stories we’d tell of the hell we would raise;

We thought then that boastful dishonesty pays

As puppies we’d pompously brag

That there’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.


But youth is impatient and takes pleasure fast

But the quicker you quench it the sooner it’s passed

The longest ride’s had on the horse that comes last

So savour...

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A recent trip to Brid prompted this.

Johnny used to run a second-hand shop on one of Brid’s back streets.  He was a dirty, fat old bloke who used to sit on a stool just inside the doorway.  I never saw him get off his perch: he probably couldn’t.

The shop stank of Johnny and contained a cornucopia of tat.  If you wanted anything you brought it to Johnny and gave him the money as he sat on hi...

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An unrequited love poem


I’ve had some bad luck with the ladies

In truth, the fault’s down to me

You see, I’ve a niche peccadillo

That’s harmless, I’m sure you’ll agree.


I’d taken her out on a bike ride

We’d stopped at a café to eat

But when she came back from the Ladies

She caught me sniffing her seat.


A second invited me inside

An offer I couldn’t refu...

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Let me say from the off that Alfie is a mongrel.  Oh, sure, my daughter describes him as a bijon fries something-or-other cross.  But the offspring of a pure Arabian and a pure-bred Asinara donkey is still an ass (or is it a mule, I forget).  So Alfie is still a mongrel.

An adorable little mongrel, I’ll grant you – to look at, at any rate. But a little shit when you get to know him.

Now, I’m...

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I laminate and post a few of these poems around the in-laws garden at appropriate points for this event. 


Geranium Bed

I have a hobby bordering mania

Taking cuttings of gerania;

“Not so!” your criticism comes

It’s plural is geraniums”.


Bird Feeders

These little rhymes made up of words

Just pale beside the songs of birds;

We keep these feeders fully stocked


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You'd need to be of a certain age to remember Lord Beginner's original; or, indeed, Ramadhin and Valentine.


Cricket, lovely cricket

Old Trafford was where I saw it

Cricket, lovely cricket

So lovely you can’t ignore it.

Bowled out for just 129

England won by 269

369 was what we scored

A rattling knock from Stuart Broad.

Once upon a better time

You’d have Ramadhin ...

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Our grandchildren and great grandchildren will ask

"Who broke the world?"

And the tears of our ghosts will weep

"We did"

And they will ask us

"Did you not care?"

And we will answer

"Only for ourselves".

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Worldwide fans may prefer to enjoy the poem without listening to the audio!  The opening E7 chord is perfect.  "Tits up" starts immediately after.


We’re seeking IT specialists to join our team

To supplement the Putin crew

Trade your western decadence for our regime

Come and join the chosen few.

And hack in the USSR

And work for the Tsar

Hack in the USSR.


We’re loo...

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I was amused to see an article on this on today’s BBC News website.  It seems an American woman from Richmond, Virginia, stands accused of “cultural appropriation” for posting a video of herself doing that Irish Riverdancing.  Now don’t get me wrong, I fully support taking down posts of idiots dancing on the spot to the tune of an Irish whistle; not for reasons of cultural appropriation, but becau...

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Nowadays I am one rung down from the fucking angels.  But I was not always so.  A re-post.


I moan these days about youngsters -

The chavs and the scuzzies and thugs;

Their swearing and gobbing and ASBOs -

Their smoking and drinking and drugs.

But I recollect I was no angel

And partial to that Special Brew

And me and my mate have knocked teeth out

And pissed in a doorwa...

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Readers should be aware that the play may contain outdated attitudes, language and cultural depictions which may cause offence today.  And nuts. And in no way does its publication, replication or production intend to justify, endorse or celebrate the morality contained therein.

In particular, we do not condone the stereotyping of the three witches as women with their associated body shaming whi...

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A re-post from a few years ago and included in my epic tome "Proper Poems by John Coopey: t'Finest Bloody Poet from Chapel Haddlesey Ever To Draw Breath". Always happy to improve on the works of inferior poets like Lewis Carroll.


“The Walrus and the Carpenter

Licked their lips so sweet

And pondered their good fortune

At that tasty mollusc treat;

Then idly stretched to doze awhi...

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An attempt at mid-line assonance and end-line consonance. A re-post from 2012. (I no longer require a penile cage to restrain me!). 


In the mind and on the flesh sense the crop’s keen edge

Hear the swish and feel the thresh; Mistress will oblige.

One’s for you; the second’s mine; the third is born in rage

Three red welts in perfect line; Mistress will oblige.

Pain and pleasure ...

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Fellow Baby Boomers will no doubt recall that rite of passage that was the Eleven Plus.  For non-Boomers that was an exam every kid took at the age of eleven (as it happens) to determine your next educational path. Those who passed went on to the grammar school, those that didn’t didn’t. They went on to the secondary modern, and for the vast majority of the population that “cut” set the seal on th...

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(You will see where I got the inspiration for this.  More than the inspiration, really.  I have just taken his piece and wrapped the song around it.  See first comment)


Baby, look at me

And tell me what you see

You try to be woke and polite

But BAME just means that I’m not white.

You don’t know what you say or do

With just two boxes – me and you;

How, morally, can this be...

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(History Made Simple.  A masterpiece of mine included in the anthology "Still Life with Wine and Cheese", celebrating all that's best about France.  A slim volume!)


There stood mud ‘n’ puddles where once there’d stood flowers

It bucketed stair rods for ‘ours ‘n’ ‘ours

It tested us patience; it tested us powers

To trudge to the port-a-loo

At the Battle o’ Waterloo.


We’d ...

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(This might come across as a bit dewy-eyed.  In fact, although I made a good living out of it for more than 20 years, for the sake of the planet and my grandchildren, I don't mourn the loss of the coal industry)


Around the town of Barnsley there were 30,000 men

In hey-days of their glory; that was when

They worked the local mines for coal,

Descending down a half mile hole

To sc...

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Following Brexit I had held the view for quite a time that we must be the most stupid nation on the planet; why else would 17m people vote for something when they didn’t know what they’d get (and still don’t for that matter).

Now I don’t want to downgrade Britain’s achievements in this department but events in the USA have caused me to re-evaluate my position.  Now, you might think I’m a bit sl...

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(One of them there haikupis)


Prayers before bedtime

An homage to The Great One

Religion in flight

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I write this piece for the many thousands of my worldwide fans with less inquisitive minds than my goodself.

It’s said that one of the differences between prose and poetry is that the latter tends to address many of the more weighty aspects of the human condition – death, nature, loss, love etc., and certainly I have witnessed several of you attempting a well-meaning put at these matters.  So i...

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I could have baked a wholemeal loaf

Or set tomato seeds

I could have made a tenon joint

Or learned to iron a shirt.


I could have planted taters

Or learned to make a fire

Or mixed up concrete with my dad

Or learned the call of birds.


I could have watched the stars at night

Or edged and mowed the lawn

I could have gone on nature walks

Identifying trees.


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(What's all this bollocks about it being good for the mental health of the nation?)


Those days of heartache seem so long ago

But very soon I know

They’ll return on the TV and the radio;

This three month lock-down’s been so good for me

I’ve found it so stress-free

But now returns the misery

So let the heartache begin

It makes no difference – lose or win

And though we...

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I had an argument today (I’m quite a bolshie sod)

And one I knew I couldn’t win – an argument with God.

I know he is the Father of All Creatures Great and Small

And has no favourites in between; He loves them one and all.

And I had cruelly murdered one.  No question, it was dead.

I’d panicked when I’d seen it there – a spider in my bed.


I pleaded mitigation, “It's just an ar...

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What a bloody nonsense all this is.  This taking down of statues business.

Let me say from the outset that I deplore the killing of George Floyd and all the others who have died at the hands of police brutality.  I support the demonstrations in protest at this (peaceful and socially distanced, I add) although I do wonder what their aims are.  It seems to me that there are ample protections agai...

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We used to play a game with the kids when they were little to keep them occupied on long journeys.  It was called, “Draw the Music”.

The idea was simple.  I played a cassette of music and they drew or wrote what picture it made them think of.  The music had to have no words, of course, otherwise it suggested itself.  Classical music was good for this, as they had no pre-conceived ideas about it...

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(I thought this site needed a poem in foreign.  An homage to our trusted friends across the Channel)


Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Il me parle tout bas

Je vois la vie en rose

Edith Piaf, petit pain

And Zinedine Zidane

Depardieu with grand nose

No-one likes Charles Aznavour

Don’t mention Agincourt

It makes them tres morose

Ballets and Calais, aussi Charles de Ga...

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