There's a boy I know called Theo.
He's strong, with a roar like lion called Leo.
His Mummy made dinner with lots of carrots - Theo got mad.
And said some things which made her sad.
He later calmed, said "sorry Mummy",
"but those carrots, aren't going in my tummy".
"I'm a lion, all I want upon my plate.
Sausage 'N' Chips, and juicy steak".
"So stop repeating like a parrot.
Feed my brother with your carrot".
"His name is Reg, he loves his veg".
But I do not! I'd rather eat his snot".
"When Daddy gets back, from the pub.
He will bring back proper grub".
"Chicken 'N' Chips, in him I'm trusting.
as those carrots you've made, are bloody disgusting".
Rock Love
Roses are Red
Violets are blue.
When I listen to Oasis
My neighbours do to.
smithshinepoetry YouTube channel
Oasis, live’25
‘Hello’ ‘Hello’… It was good to see them back.
I left apart of me there. Or did I bring something it back?
Lost or found? In the immersion, of 1st, to 6th track.
She said ‘Don’t believe the truth’. I said ‘Definitely’, you said ‘Maybe’.
There was that little look, then it got a bit crazy.
Now I don’t know if we need each other.
But in that bucket hat and them shades. I believe in you brother.
As they all sup, sniff, and bounce, it was all ‘whatever’.
Though I know these feelings, theses words…
Will live for fuckin ever!
And O’ how I wish she was here, to dance and sing a song with me.
But not one from ‘let it be’. Though nonetheless, ‘stand by me’.
Still, then and now…
We see things they’ll never see!
Order
The pathway to order is paved with chaos.
Cross Road
Freedom meets resistance,
now it does not fly.
I met the devil at the
cross road,
he did not tel me why.
As the sand falls through
the hourglass,
I listen for the call.
Who controls my interests?
I'm not attracted to this fall.
Ideas
All my ideas are stupid, but they all lead me to you.
Guess I’m stupidly in love with you.
Her
She tells the lies of the Marxist
with satan in her heart.
A critic of everything, except her
own resentment.
She blows into the fire, summoning up
the darkness.
She sings only to the lost, while they write poetry
to the demonic.
She usurps, mocks, and curses. The white singes
and smokes ’til it turns black.
She lap dances for the unclean, she sucks but like
her pride she does not swallow.
He was shot through the throat! His voice got louder,
proliferating throughout Christendom!
Her voice will die with her, but not before her soul!
.
sandgrounders voice
Just the prayers of the saints that holds the kingdom together. Though it’s brewing. In the churches and pubs, as willow strikes the leather.
The spark lit the Sandgrounders voice, then roared the whispers of a nation. In the raging storm through the fiery furness, a glimmer for the fearless lies at the next station.
In this once proud Christian land, in the heat we remember. A feeling only a cry can describe. It’s not a dream, this is our country, it’s a will to survive.
We’ll march on the capitol remembering every lie, masks down, banners high. The streets will thunder the Cross will fly.
The King will cry into his prayer mat, the crown on his head will tremble. Our master Starmer their slave, this ain’t a grain in the sand, Tommy can assemble.
write
There isn’t anything more fulling than doing what is right.
After that just try to write ✍️
Smith Shine Poetry 