very small edit thanks to leanne. i added he'd on the 9th line of the third
based on kipling's gunga din
looking for crit on the 3rd verse only please.
You can chew a bloomin' ear
as you chug down luke warm beer,
cos' you're wallets filled with money and you've got it;
but when you talk of writin'
you can spend the fuckin' night in,
cos' of edits till before you're sayin' fuck-wit.
In the pigpen with the swine
it's the place i serve me time,
by helping out the needy and the newb.
And damn, within that slew
the finest man i knew
was the temperamental leader Billy din.
'e was "Din! Din! Din!
You pimpin' hump of snot-crust, Billy din!
Yo! knob-neck get here quick,
feedback, give it, make it slick!
You lazy-fucked up admin Billy Din.
An' often when he swore
to the poet who was poor,
he never meant to make 'em blinkin' blind;
an the fact he didn't slag
when a poem made 'im gag,
was testament that he was fuckin' kind.
Within the forums where they lay
writing hallmark every day.
Where a piece of what they wrote would make 'im bawl;
we offered 'im for crit
in the hope it wasn't shit
words of cliche that would make your stomach crawl.
It was "Din! Din! Din!
You wanker where in god's name have you been?
You put your shoulder in it
or i'll leave the site this minute,
if you don't critique me poem Billy Din".
He would jot an' carry on
giving feedback with aplomb;
an' 'is grammar often brought a man to tear.
There would be no if an' but
he would often ask you cut;
he'd be waitin' for an edit to appear.
Like a monkey on your back
he would look for any crack,
an he'd praise us till the 'ope we had was fire
an' for all a dirty trick
he was kind, pure kind, though thick.
When he went to tend the newby, and the trier!
It was "Din! Din! Din!
"Look! i'm posting artful posies watch me preen,"
was the song that they would shout;
the tune poetasters spout.
For Nuggets from the pen of Billy Din!
based on kipling's gunga din
looking for crit on the 3rd verse only please.
Quote:He would jot an' carry on
giving feedback with aplomb;
an' 'is grammar often brought a man to tear.
There would be no if an' but
he would often ask you cut;
he'd be waitin' for an edit to appear.
Like a monkey on your back
he would look for any crack,
an he'd praise us till the 'ope we had was fire
an' for all a dirty trick
he was kind, pure kind, though thick.
When he went to tend the newby, and the trier!
It was "Din! Din! Din!
"Look! i'm posting artful posies watch me preen,"
was the song that they would shout;
the tune poetasters spout.
For Nuggets from the pen of Billy Din!
You can chew a bloomin' ear
as you chug down luke warm beer,
cos' you're wallets filled with money and you've got it;
but when you talk of writin'
you can spend the fuckin' night in,
cos' of edits till before you're sayin' fuck-wit.
In the pigpen with the swine
it's the place i serve me time,
by helping out the needy and the newb.
And damn, within that slew
the finest man i knew
was the temperamental leader Billy din.
'e was "Din! Din! Din!
You pimpin' hump of snot-crust, Billy din!
Yo! knob-neck get here quick,
feedback, give it, make it slick!
You lazy-fucked up admin Billy Din.
An' often when he swore
to the poet who was poor,
he never meant to make 'em blinkin' blind;
an the fact he didn't slag
when a poem made 'im gag,
was testament that he was fuckin' kind.
Within the forums where they lay
writing hallmark every day.
Where a piece of what they wrote would make 'im bawl;
we offered 'im for crit
in the hope it wasn't shit
words of cliche that would make your stomach crawl.
It was "Din! Din! Din!
You wanker where in god's name have you been?
You put your shoulder in it
or i'll leave the site this minute,
if you don't critique me poem Billy Din".
He would jot an' carry on
giving feedback with aplomb;
an' 'is grammar often brought a man to tear.
There would be no if an' but
he would often ask you cut;
he'd be waitin' for an edit to appear.
Like a monkey on your back
he would look for any crack,
an he'd praise us till the 'ope we had was fire
an' for all a dirty trick
he was kind, pure kind, though thick.
When he went to tend the newby, and the trier!
It was "Din! Din! Din!
"Look! i'm posting artful posies watch me preen,"
was the song that they would shout;
the tune poetasters spout.
For Nuggets from the pen of Billy Din!
that you got a laugh from it works enough for me to say thanks for the time you gave.
