Poetry Blog by John Coopey

There’s a town in the US that owes its continuing prosperity to railways.  It isn’t a significant junction of major routes; it never built trains as we have Crewe or Swindon; and it has no history like Stockton or Darlington.

What it does have are themed hotels and restaurants, souvenir and bookshops – a whole industry ensnaring millions of dollars.

It owes its prosperity to the power of thr...

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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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Although a biopsy had determined that I was clear of prostate cancer, the symptoms remained; weak bladder, “urgency”, weak flow and frequent trips to the loo, especially through the night.  In layman’s terms I need to go quick, often and only dribble.  (I knew you’d be interested).

There are treatments for this including prostate surgery but the doc suggested drugs to start with.

Now, I was ...

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By 1807 the Napoleonic War had become a stalemate.  The French had defeated the armies of Austria and Prussia at Austerlitz and Jena, and had control of virtually all mainland Europe.  The British had destroyed the combined French and Spanish fleets at Trafalgar and controlled the seas.  What this meant was that Britain could not invade Europe because its army was no match for the French whilst th...

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Forgive me if my attitude to grammar schools is a little more appreciative than is fashionable nowadays.  This is primarily because I am such a huge beneficiary of the system.

It strikes me that life is a selective process.  Hopefully, the best candidate gets the job; the best employees the promotions etc.  Competitive sport as youngsters prepares us for this. The best players make the team; th...

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(Striving for pension equality for the sisterhood)

She will get her pension same as me

She says she wants equality

It is the justice for which her sex will strive

She has pressed for changes in the law

For all the wrongs she’s fighting for

So it’s not 60 anymore

She’s got to wait to 65.

She now thinks this can’t be right

One more mysoginistic slight

Like dir...

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(A re-post.  I wrote this a couple of years ago when the Church of England announced that it would allow gay clergy to become bishops but with the perverse stipulation that they were not allowed to have sex).

Thankyou for the gays

Who nowadays

Lead “Songs of Praise”

On Sundays;

The pink and purple gays

Can take their picks

Of bishoprics

From Leith to Lundy.

The...

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(My support for the sisterhood)

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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Your weak prevarication

And your procrastination

On 2nd referendum

Kow-towing to Momentum

You   Who?

You  Who?

You’ve caused it all.

You’ve met with terrorists

An anti-monarchist

Ally of Trotskyists

Disguised as party activists

You   Who?

You   Who?

You’ve caused it all.

Give us all just one good reason

Why the nine of us should stay.

The l...

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On the honeyed sands of Bodrum’s where the tourists with their children swim and play

It’s a place of fun and laughter where Westerners enjoy their holiday

And the hotels on the shoreline raise the many different European flags

But no-one used the beach the day they found a single, sodden pile of rags.

That day would drain humanity of decency and spirit and of joy

For the ...

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Clothed in gold, in silver, iron,

Secrets safe for evermore;

Mighty Tisza, roaring lion

Here doth lie The Scourge of God.

Gold for Wealth and gold from quarry

A tribute for the gift of life;

Birthright to a king and warrior

Taken from the foes now dead.

Silver for the god of lune-night

Riding over homeland plains

Glint of amulet in moonlight

Heraldin...

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(A racing cert for Poem of the Week)

The key to success for a Champion

Is to start the day with a shag,

A hand-lowered shite of 6lb weight,

A can of Long Life and a fag.

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(A fusion of the brilliant analogy of Brexit by Hugo Rifkind with the rather obvious adaptation of the Beatles's "Yellow Submarine".  Apologies, Mr Rifkind. The brilliance was entirely yours).

In the times since I’ve been born There’s been things I’ve never seen

But the best of all of these Mrs May’s Cheese Submarine.

Cos the people had a vote The biggest vote there’s ever been

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Don’t get me wrong I’m comfortable with gays; I’ve always been;

But sometimes note they get into a tizzy;

And though it’s not a preference of mine, by any means,

I don’t mind helping out if they get busy.

The first time that I helped out in this way I well recall

The blood went to my head and I felt dizzy;

A frisson unfamiliar and not my scene at all

But I forced mys...

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(It's all kicking off tonight. Can't wait)

The runaway train went over the cliff and she blew

Woo-oo-woo

The runaway train went over the cliff and she blew

Woo-oo-woo

The driver never considered “What if?”

You’d think that she’d been at a spliff

And she blew blew blew blew blew.

The runaway train went over the edge and she blew

Woo-oo-woo

The runaway train s...

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(I walked the trail of England's bloodiest battle today.  Estimates run up to 33,000 dead.  It's an exposed and unforgiving place even without a blizzard and someone trying to cave your head in)

In 1400 and 61

I believe that was the year

There happened a bit of a fallout

With Yorkshire and Lancashire.

For brothers like this to come to such blows

It needed the cause be a...

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(A re-post from a couple of years ago)

Marbella's the spot for mooring your yacht

To ostentatiously show what you've got

But a sight more evocative ploughing the foam

Much nearer the heart and closer to home

Was never a craft you'd look good in

I refer to the Ponty Tom Pudding.

A cross between a barge and a train

With a...

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(York)

St Sampson’s Over 60’s Club

A place I like to be

It’s there I practise amateur

Gynaecology.

I tell them I’m a doctor

“Retired now” I’d say

And book them in appointments

At a rate of 3 a day.

The most of them see through my ruse

But let deception pass

They know this chance to open up

May likely be their last.

Of course, there’s just a one...

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(A belated Christmas carol)

Silent Man

Invisible Man

Keeping mum

Keeping schtum

Labour Movement for Second Vote

Struggling without a leader of note

Corbyn defined by this

Corbyn – weak as piss.

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