Can you be the next McGonagall.

It would appear (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/tayside_and_central/7402920.stm) that people may be prepared to pay good money for awful poetry. So is there anyone here who can outdo McGonagall, preferably on a running theme.

I'll start off with a homage to McGonagall's "Tay Bridge Disaster"

I did prepare for my first 10k
My trusty Garmin show'd the way
Despite my laces which had started to fray
(but lasted till well after race day)
and the chafing which took a bugger of a long time to heal.

Comments

  • pmpl

    you are too clever for us SOG

  • Oh, thou demon Drink, thou fell destroyer;
    Thou curse of society, and its greatest annoyer.
    What hast thou done to society, let me think?
    I answer thou hast caused the most of ills, thou demon Drink."

    that is ace

  • i went and tried to do a tri
    i trained enough to just get by
    but on the day it was too hot
    and a pb i did not got

  • More Lurker, more of your fine poetry sir

    *picks up rotten tomato with a glint in her eye* image

  • ooops,

    Sorry Lurker

  • I ran I ran I ran I ran I ran
    then I moved to Runcorn image

  • Inspired by "The Miraculous Escape of Robert Allan, the Fireman" . To be read with a Scottish accent... 

    'Twas in the year of 2007, Sunday the eleventh of November
    A date that for years to come many will remember
    A host of sporty people assembled, but not to jog
    They came to run in the famous Sodbury Slog

    Just after the eleventh hour the hooter sounded
    And hundreds of feet the streets of Sodbury pounded
    But not for long on pavement smooth and hard
    That ankles jarred and quiver'd those with ample lard

    For 'cross the common these athletes swiftly sped
    Eager for the slurry and mud that lay ahead
    And soon, those whose lace tying could not match the sticky goo
    The race  would be completed minus a shoe

    Across the fields of mud and yellowing grass
    Gasping up the hills and sliding down on arse
    The mighty runners ne'er deterred by slurry
    (Save those who overdid it the night before with curry)

    And so to the finishing line at Sodbury's famous secondary seat of learning
    With aching knees for some, and muscles burning
    Desperately in need of the weary legs to scrub
    So into the Stygian murk of the communal hot tub.

  • I like to run

    it is a lot of fun

    I like to run fast

    It is a blast

    I is a poet image

  • So here I am once again, it's race day
    I glanced at me map, I'll know the way
    I woke really early to get under way
    and breakfasted on toast, cereal and a milky way.

    The course is quite hilly so they say
    and in one of the fields they are cutting the hay
    I'm sure I can win it, you never know, I may,
    Oh, there goes the hooter, sorry I can't stay.

    Well, I'm back and what can I say,
    It obviously just wasn't  to be my day.
    Pass me my muscle rub, no the gel not the spray
    just look at me socks, they used to be white not grey

    I listened to the marshall and I did obey
    when he said keep to the left and I said "'ay?"
    Then slid into a substance quite smelly and grey
    Excuse me now but I lost me shoes in the clay.

    I is not a poet and I knows it! image

  • Bravo! 20 bonus points for getting 'toast' in it.
  • Oo, thank you very much.

    Did you write the Sogbury one? I liked that! And Kitten's too, is that your own work?

    And shimmy shimmy's is of an outstanding quality image 

    In fact, I think we could all quite easily be poet loreal ... coz we're worth it!

  • Sadly yes, 'twas mine. I particularly liked the last line of KK's. Very much in the spirit of McGonagall.

  • Such eloquence, such passion....

    And all so neatly summed up in just 3 little words! image

  • With apologies to Wordsworth, and anyone who enjoys poetry:

    I plodded slowly as a toad
    That creeps and croaks o'er bogs and crags,
    When all at once I saw a load,
    A host, of Tesco's carrier bags;
    Beside the road, caught in the trees,
    Flapping limply in the breeze

  • Wow, there is real kwality on this thread. image

    I like SOGs latest one. 

  • SoG - you are quite brilliant. 

    And did those feet in recent time
    run upon England's mountains green?
    And was the holy Apple iPod
    Banned or was it seen?

    Hmmmmmmm, apologies to Mr Blake for this poor attempt!

  • Excellent, both!

  • Pity the sorrows of the poor runner,

    To fail to get a PB really is a scunner. 

    As  they run along the street,

    They know they're likely to be beat.

    And it brings them no joy,

    To hear a shout from a very small boy:

    "Call that running? Ye're miles behind the rest!",

    As they wipe their sweaty face on their vest.

    Kind people all, both great and small

    Pity the sorrows of the running kind,

    Whose tender parts are chafed, they sadly find;

    Therefore we ought to be content with our lot,

    And for the PBs we have got, 

    And pray to the Lord at night and also in the day,

    To make our feet run swiftly on our way,

    And be always willing to help fellow runners in their distress,

    And the Lord will surely bless

    And guard us by day and night,

    For doing the things that we know to be right. 

  • that's too good slo sho!!!

    image

  • Closely based on "Sorrows of the Blind" by the great man himself!  I have to confess to being a lifelong fan of his. image

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