Piratic Poetry

Arrr, I be a pirate!

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Can ye read and write?

No I'm completely dyslexic and illiterate
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I can only spell using a semaphore
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Only when I use one eyepatch, not two
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Yes of course ye blaggard, but it's difficult to write with a hook
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Total votes : 83

Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby DavidH on Mon Oct 10, 2011 7:38 am

A Non-Shakespearian sort of sonnet.

The pyrit ship was tossed upon the main;
A mighty wave broke o'er the Captain's head -
And this the Bosun thought exceeding strange,
For at the time the Captain was in bed.
"My Capting!" cried the Bosun, full of woe,
"Be ye still in there?" When he brought a lamp
The Captain was alive and hearty, though
His gyint hat were looking rather damp.

"The mizzen-stays be gone," a seaman roared,
"The futtock shrouds be buggered, and the worst
Is that Big Brenda's fallen overboard."
"Damn!" said the Captain, "this ship be accurst!
A pyrit crew's no use without a whore!
Black Bart, get in that barrel 'fore I burst."
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby Roland Deschain on Mon Oct 10, 2011 8:16 am

It be due ter the loverly Pieces that we 'ave these shanties ter sing of a noight with our crews. 'Ere be another one fer ye all ter henjoy:-

Down at the English cove one evenin' I were there
When I 'eard a poirate shoutin' underneath thee middenmast

I be 'avin' a loverly bunch o' doubloons
There they be all layin' in a poile
Big ones, small ones, some as big as yer 'ead
Give 'em a twist a flick o' thee wrist
That be what thee poirate said
I be 'avin' a loverly bunch o' doubloons
Every one ye pillage will make ye rich
There stands me wench, the idol o' me loife
Singing roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
Roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
Roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
Roll spaghetti a meatball, roll spaghetti a meatball
Singin' roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
I be 'avin' a loverly bunch o' doubloons (they’re lovely)
There they be all layin' in a poile (one, two, three, er twelvety)
Big ones, small ones, some as big as yer 'ead (an' bigger)
Give 'em a twist a flick o' thee wrist
That be what thee poirate said
I be 'avin' a loverly bunch o' doubloons
Every one ye pillage will make ye rich
There stands me wench, the idol o' me loife
Singin' roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog (all together now)
Roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog (harmony)
Roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
Roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
Singin' roll spaghetti a meatball a point o' grog
Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby black bart on Mon Oct 10, 2011 9:06 am

When I was first a Pirate
Me pappy said ta me
Remember to be careful
When first ye put to sea

A pirate's life is gay
There's not a lot of dooty
But share and share aloik
When ye finds thee booty

So bearing this in mind
I took aboard Big Brenda
I saved her from the knocking shop
Her dad was goin ta send her

If ever we be lucky
And find a heap of treasure
I make sure every man
Is given his good measure

The captain gets an extra bag
And if there's any gripes
I send em to Big Brenda
They never last thee night

There was something else me pappy said
But I seem to have forgotten
Beware of something, something
Something, something bottom.
The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby Roy Hunter on Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:20 pm

Image

Oh terrible tragedy at the reservoir in Helensburgh,
And at the news the people did gather from near and far,
To see that the infrastructure had started to crumble away,
Much in the manner of the railway bridge across the silvery Tay.

The reservoir at Helensburgh was built in the nineteenth century,
And at the time it performed all the services that its designers wished to see,
But after the passing of nearly two hundred years, and the growth in size of the town,
We now get our water from Loch Lomond, and the reservoir has been allowed to fall down.

Nowadays only fishermen and dog walkers use the reservoir and its footpaths,
And also the local teenagers drinking cider, smoking cigarettes and having laughs,
If you want to fish in the reservoir, from the bait 'n' tackle shop you need to buy a permit,
And if you walk your dog there, you need to take plastic bags to pick up after it.

It is a shame to see the heritage of the town fall into such disrepair,
And the local paper will be full of letters from people expressing their despair,
However none of the lazy bastards will lift a finger or pay to put it right,
So it will eventually fall into the water, and that will be all. Good night.
"I don't mean to sound bitter, cynical or cruel; but I am, so that's how it comes out." ~ Bill Hicks.
"To argue with a person who has renounced reason is like administering medicine to the dead." ~ Thomas Paine.
"One should not believe everything one reads on the internet." ~ Abraham Lincoln.
"If you're making a political point wearing a balaclava, you're a c***. It was true for the IRA and it's true now." ~ daftbeaker.
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby DavidH on Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:25 pm

^ Image

Aye, 'tis William Topaz McGonagall tae the verra life!
Spike Milligan, thou shouldst be living at this hour.
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby pieces o'nine on Tue Nov 08, 2011 10:37 pm

That were luvverly, Roy. :fsm_yarr:
I will honor Monkey in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.
~Charles "Darwin" Dickens
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby Roland Deschain on Wed Nov 09, 2011 8:20 am

That be very noice Roy. It indeed be a shame that our heritage be fallin' away loike this.
Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby black bart on Wed Nov 09, 2011 9:07 am

I am inspired to invoke my own countryman's poetry for a much happier story...the refurbishment of The Patti Pavilion in Swansea:

Image

Holy Patti Pavilion

O
Out of a crumbling edifice
When the municipal funds made move to smooth
The curling tiled roof
And ruin and his causes
From the sea with winds of rust
And sweeping sands of time
Be held at bay with lots of cash
New glazed restaurant
With views of the sea
Rise up to meet my amazed eye
And I am struck as dumb as a holy monk by the sun

No
Let us not forget that voice of long ago
Praise for Madame Patti's gift to all
Out of the woebegone rust
Is risen an edifice of shiny glass and tin
An Indian restaurant concealed within
And concert hall fit for Kings
Where once an empty silence rang with doom
The hall of Patti now has more room
For diners, singers and their kids
To come from far and wide to see the sea
And hear the sounds of angels

Black (Dylan) Bart

(after "Holy spring" by Dylan Thomas)
The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby DavidH on Wed Nov 09, 2011 10:13 am

Duw, there's luvlee isn't it?
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby black bart on Sat Nov 12, 2011 9:44 am

Yarrgh if onlee I could write poetry wiv the passion and genius o Dylan...and wiv three bottles o whiskee in me no doubt! He was partial to a tipple was old Dylan.
The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby DaveL on Tue Nov 15, 2011 6:32 am

ODE TO ME MERMAID - REPRISE

On a slimy rock, by the roaring sea...
Oi first spied her flipper...
And crashed me galleon into a cliff...
And abandoned me job as skipper...

And chewin' on a fish she caught...
She offered me a bite...
But me wanderin' eye kept starin' at..
Her fins all nice and tight...

When Oi asked her fin in marriage
She replied with "URKKKK!"
Coz Oi've lack of female contact...
And gone stark ravin' berserk...

Now the weddin' was a seaside treat...
Me bride in seaweed veil...
And the pirates danced a merry jig...
With the penguins sang a wail...

And now Oi've got little dugongs (with eye patches)
Swimmin' in the sea...
And there'll be dugongs sailin' galleons...
In the act of piracy...
Manatee Singles

www.hotdugong.com
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby black bart on Wed Nov 16, 2011 7:19 am

A merrye ditty indeed Dave.

When once we sailed the seven seas
A mermaid we did spy
With golden hair and golden tail
She was pleasing to thee eye

We fished her up upon the deck
This angel from the briny cities
Her long hair flowed down o'er her chest
And covered up her ****ies
The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby Roland Deschain on Wed Nov 16, 2011 12:41 pm

They be hwonderful pieces o' piratical poetry there, me poirate brethren. Oi just made this one up:-

Poirates on Mars

It's an FSM-awful small affair
To thee wench with thee mousy hair
But 'er first mate be yellin' "No"
An' 'er captain 'as told 'er ter go
But 'er shipmates arrrggghhh nowhere ter be seen
Now she be walkin' through 'er sunken ship
To thee mast with thee clearest view
And she's 'ooked to thee Fish 'Ead Stoo
But thee taste makes 'er bowels feel sore
'Cause she's lived it ten times or more
She could spit in the eyes o' lubbers
As they ask her to focus on

Sailors fightin' in thee dance hall
Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh man! Look at those poirates go
It's thee freakiest show
Take a look at thee Lawman from thee East India Companee
Beatin' up thee wrong poirates
Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh man! Wonder if 'e'll ever know
'E's in thee best sellin' show
Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh there Poirates on Maaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhs?

It's on thee Caribbean's tortured brow
That Jim 'Awkins 'as grown up a sea cow
Now thee crew 'as struck fer glory
'Cause Nef Yoo's on sale again
See thee lubbers in their million 'ordes
From Jamaica to thee Maldives
Rule Britannia be out o' bounds
To me wench, me parrot, and crew
But the Fish 'Ead Stoo makes me bowels sore
'Cause oi ate it ten times or more
It's about to be cooked again
As oi ask you ter focus on

Sailors fightin' in thee dance hall
Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh man! Look at those poirates go
It's thee freakiest show
Take a look at thee Lawman from thee East India Companee
Beatin' up thee wrong poirates
Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh man! Wonder if 'e'll ever know
'E's in thee best sellin' show
Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh there Poirates on Maaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhs?
Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby Ravi Oli on Wed Nov 16, 2011 5:14 pm

Arrrrrrr gud werk Roland. 'tis said thee great bard Ziggy Stardust pulled random werds frum an 'at as thee basis fer sum ov 'is ballards. Yee 'ave used thee idea yerself?

Oi'll 'ave ta rak me brayns fer a ditty thee eqwal of awl these foin werks.
Send lawyers, guns and money...
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Re: Piratic Poetry

Postby Roland Deschain on Mon Dec 05, 2011 9:32 am

Oi were thinkin' the other day about the ploight ov our dear sister poirates, an' their treatment at thee 'ands o' landlubbers. This be me ode ter them. Aaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhh!

SISTER POIRATE

We're clearly poirates in full regalia
Dauntless crusaders fer women's boats
Though we adore male poirates hindividually
We agree that as a group they're raaaarrrrrgggghhhther smelly
Cast off thee shackles o' thee East India Companee
Cutlass ter cutlass into thee fray
Our daughter's cabin boys will adore us
An' they'll crow in grateful chorus
Well done sister poirates

From Kuala Lumpur ter Barbados
One 'ears the restless cry from every corner o' thee seven seas "Poiratekiond arise!"
Treasure equality an' equal grog wi' male poirates
Take 'eart fer Mrs. Blackbeard 'as walked thee plank again
No more thee meek an' moild subservience we
We're fightin' fer our rights by thee poirate code
Never ye fear!
Cast off thee shackles o' thee East India Companee
Cutlass ter cutlass into thee fray
Our daughter's cabin boys will adore us
An' they'll crow in grateful chorus
Well done
Well done
Well done
Sister Poirate
Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed
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