THE NINCOMPOOP’S LAMENT

I stole my love’s heart in Vienna
Poached her false teeth in Zagreb
Yet rather than steal her high heels in Nice
I hid them under our bed

Once upon a blue moon
All her knickers I did nick in New York
Yet rather than thieve her suspenders in France
I posted them over to Cork

The day that I burst her implants
Was the day that it rained cats and dogs
It was thus that I grabbed her new mackintosh
And filled up the pockets with frogs

To me it was such a great wheeze
To bury her bikini in Timbuctoo
Her bra and suspenders in Neasden
Her sexy black stockings in Kathmandu

That she for some reason went off me
Is the one thing I can’t understand
For I took her all over this planet
From Paris to the Rio Grande

She said, “Darling you are such a tosser
Nicking all my things as you do
Yet I do believe I’d rather ‘open up a vein
Than be stuck with a complete twat like you”

“My dear where’s the fairness in that then?”
Was all I could think of to say
“For what will you do without me?”
And it was thus that she went on to say

“Because of you I’m flat chested
I can’t chew gum and have to walk with a stick
Also I now get soaked when it rains
Pray God tell me are you really that thick?”

This dubious ‘poem’ is from 5 years ago. Having just finished the writing part re my new book, ‘Mayday’…it took this old fool 18 months to pen…my mind is a dead as a dodo’s dick, hence today an old rave from the grave. Such is life.


Should you fancy any of my books, then if you ‘click’ the appropriate book’s front cover to the right of this page, then it’ll take you direct into Amazon where both print and Kindle options are available.   

Copyright © 2014-2021. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, and lending, prohibited although in a crisis I’ve no issue with any reader using the pages of said book as emergency’s loo roll.


41 thoughts on “THE NINCOMPOOP’S LAMENT

    1. My thanks, LuAnne. I do have a habit of rhyming anything and everything. My wife goes insane when I repeat a rhyme time and time again without realising I’m doing it. Still, in the end we get to laugh and that’s all I want. Regards, The Old Fool

  1. Any mention of Neasden always gets me smiling.
    That’s the only Chas and Dave record I like, but it gets to me every time, without fail. Late night after-time drinking in my aunt’s pub, loud voices raised-out of tune- around the piano in a smoke-filled bar. Unapologetic cockney accents that never sounded harsh to those who had them.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    1. Thanks, Pete. I have to confess ‘Neasden’ was stolen from ‘I’m sorry I haven’t a clue’ from Radio 4. I particularly enjoyed the ‘Samantha’ skits. You likely know already, yet those wonderful risqué skits were something else. Innocent wording, or good old fashion filth ‘tis all in the mind. If you haven’t checked Samantha skits here’s The Complete Samantha.

  2. I never listened to that, Mike, so had no idea of your reference. I will check out the video later. I used to work on the Ambulances in the Ladbroke Grove/Paddington area, so if we were given a call in Neasden, we always thought it was ‘too far away’. 🙂
    Cheers, Pete.

  3. And So my good Mike, must I plead sanity to say I wanna copy this stuff to my Commentar, Ortrages, Prose & Poetry sub-Blog. And as soon as the gelt rolls in I shall tempt international commerce and exchange-rates to get by your book and Samantha’s I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue. I’ve a notion it will stand up to Don’t Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me The Pliars et al. But A quibble: Mike, may one use both stupidity and The Human Male in the same sentence? Having been male most all of my life – was there a moment of indecision whilst swimming half of me upstream to the fleshy honeypot? Dunno. Like to think it gives me an edge when lying to laying lady. BTW, Bruce Jewett who pens the oddly numbered haiku I swipe allatime, will get a kick out of nicked knickers I am sure. Currently he pens the joys of pilfering grandchildren’s halloween bags o’ loot.

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