Pinky's Book Link

Showing posts with label Satirical Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Satirical Poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Z- is for Zee End at Last!




A to Z April Challenge

So... at last we have come to the end of the A-Z challenge and I'd like to thank both of you for continuing to read my efforts.
Because I love you so much I've decided to dedicate a song written just for you.


And now, the end is here
And so I write my final blog post

My friends, I’ll say it clear
I’ve worked quite hard, to keep you en-grossed

I’ve tried, to make you laugh
I pulled out jokes on every new day
Comic girl, I tried to be
Like Ricky Gervais

Regrets, there’s been a few
But that was just, to get attention
I did what I had to do
Revealing all my anal retention

I planned, from A to Z
Each puerile post, just for this blog hop
But more, much more than this
There was the photoshop.

Yes, there were times, I thought I’d stop

When I was tired... of this blog hop
But through it all, when there was doubt
I typed it up, and churned crap out
I faced my fears and I stood tall

...And there was photoshop

I’ve screamed, I’ve punched the wall
I did a bit, of self abusing
And now, I’d like to ask

You found it lame or quite amusing?

To think... I wrote all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
No... not Pinky P,
I did it my way

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

'Twas the Night Before Christmas at Pinky's Place

                                                                  Bad Pinky

In honour of my eighteen year old son Padraic, I’ve rewritten the famous, well-loved poem:

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.

‘Twas the night
Before Christmas
While inside the house
Little Pinky was stirring
Some tea for her spouse

The stockings were hung
For her doggies, with care

In hopes
In the morning
Some bones would be there




Teenagers were nestled
All safe in their beds
Visions of juggling apes
Danced in their heads

Pinky in her nightie
With the torn shoulder strap
Settled on the couch
One more present to wrap



When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
She sprang from the couch
To see what was the matter

Away to the window
She flew like a bee
To peer through the window
And what did she see?

The moon on the breast
Of the bitumen road
Reflected the
Carcasses
Of twenty dead toads



When what
With her wandering eyes
She did spy
But a beat-up Holden
With eight youths piled inside

With a scruffy young driver
Screeching down the street
Pinky knew in a moment
‘Twas son Padraic, in the seat

As the burnt rubber settled
The youths toppled out
And they whistled
And shouted
And milled
All about

“Hey Gazza!
Hey Dazza!
Hey Bazza!


Cried Pinky.



“Hey Grommit!
Hey Stupid!
Hey Poiter!
Hey Stinky!

You’re waking
The neighbours
With that noisy
Car horn
Now dash-away
boys, for tomorrow’s
Christmas morn!”


And then
In a twinkling
They stared at the roof
At the revving
And stereo
Playing ‘Doof, doof…’

'Twas St Nick on the roof!
Doing donuts around

In a shiny
V8 hot rod
With full surround sound

He was dressed
Like a rev-head
From his head
To his thongs
With a singlet
And board shorts
Tattoos and a bong.

A bundle of letters
He had packed
On his back
One each for
The boys with a
message
Intact.

His eyes
How they twinkled
Though red and bloodshot

A result
Of imbibing
More often than not

The stump of his joint
He held tight
In bad teeth
And the smoke
Encircled his head
Like a wreath



He said not a word
All stern
Without noise
And handed
Out the letters
Then said
To the boys

“Whatever you do
Don’t just follow others
Be your own person
And look after
Your mothers.”


He jumped
In his car
Music blaring
Tyres screaming


And the boys
Stared aghast
Their faces
All beaming

Pinky heard them exclaim
In the growing morn light

“It’s Christmas tomorrow
Time to call it a night!”


And off into
The night
They drove quiet
As mice.

Promising they’d

Not be naughty

But nice.



Comments are back! Please leave one...

Thanks to Photoshopping by Scotto.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Jingle Bells Pinky Style!



There’s the Queen st Mall
It’s a shopping holiday
O’er the road we go
Laughing all the way


I hear cashier’s bells
Ringing loud and clear
Lulu’s buying up the town
She’ll spend up big no fear!

Hey! Jingling coins, jingling coins
Jingling all the way
Myer Centre, David Jones
Not enough hours in a day! Hey!

Jingling Coins, jingling coins
Jingling all the way
Oh what fun it is to shop
In Brisbane Mall today.

Pinky drags behind
Blisters and sore back
Finds a comfy chair
While Lulu sorts through racks

So many clothes to see
Dresses, skirts, a top
Oh what fun it is to spend
Her pay from the Donut Shop!

Hey! Jingling coins, jingling coins
Jingling merrily
Pinky needs a good lie down
A Bex and a cup of tea. 

Hey!

Jingling coins, jingling coins
Jingling in her purse
There’s no need to call a cab
Cos Pinky'll need a hearse. 

Hey!...


Sunday, December 1, 2013

Pinky's Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas the things that I did see

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the second day of Christmas the things that I did see

Two towels on floor and




A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the third day of Christmas the things that I did see

Three dirty plates



Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the fourth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Four teenage boys


Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the fifth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Five empty cans...


Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the sixth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Six shoes a laying



Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the seventh day of Christmas the things that I did see

Seven butts on table



Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the eighth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Eight empty loo rolls



Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the ninth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Nine scattered glasses



Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the tenth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Ten fingers texting




Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the eleventh day of Christmas the things that I did see

Eleven missing ice cubes



Ten fingers texting

Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the twelfth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Twelve sprinkled crisps



Eleven missing ice cubes

Ten fingers texting

Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and


A Santa dog underneath the tree. 
Happy Advent!

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Pinky Poinker feat. Miley


I lay in bed on Saturday morning,

Drinking my coffee, stifling my yawning,

Nothing on telly except football crap

And some blonde girl reading a weather map.

“Change the channel at once” did Pinky decree.

So Scotto changed it over to MTV.

But then Pinky could not believe her eyes

It was Hannah Montanna dressed in disguise

Her hair was cut short, she was almost nude

Her behaviour was quite decidedly lewd.

Licking a hammer, twerking her ass

If Pinky sat that way it'd bring on gas!

“What’s happened to Hannah?” Pinky shrieked in shock.

“She’s caressing that hammer like she’s caressing a …”

Could she be any cruder, what is she thinking?

I’ll bet poor Billy-Ray’s heart is sinking.

His achey-breaky heart must be all but shattered

His daughter’s ill-repute completely splattered

All over the tabloids and Twitter sphere

OMG! Is she prepping for a cervical smear ??

Is she trying to shock us by flouting the rules

And having sex with some carpenter’s tools?”

Poor little Hannah’s been lost in the fame

And now Miley acts like she’s on the game.

Such a shame to see such appalling behaviour

And with many, it seems, she’s fallen from favour

But at least we still have pure Taylor Swift

Who’s nicely presented like a well-wrapped gift

She doesn’t need feign fellatio

While Miley now has nowhere to go

You’ll never see Taylor buck naked I hope

Or swinging round nude on a piece of rope.

She relies on her talent, but one thing is totes…

I’d advise her to watch out for screaming goats.

N.B. 


The objectification of girls is disgusting

With their cleavages out and their crutches thrusting.

I’m sick to death and people oughta

Start realising it could be their own sweet daughter!


Taylor Swift: Screaming goat version :)





Friday, August 23, 2013

The Lengths Teachers go to… Non-Seussical Style!


A report from the Cat in the Hat
It’s Book Week Parade!
Hooray! Hooray!
And who’s come to visit
Today? Today?


                              Rach, my teaching buddy!

We looked and we saw him!
The Cat in the Hat!
And he said to us,
“What are YOU staring at? 

I’ll show you some things
you've not seen before
Some things that
Will make you fall to the floor!”

Then all of a sudden

We saw! We saw!
A wondrous sight 
For sure! For sure!

It wasn’t a dog!

It wasn’t a bat!
It was ANOTHER 
Wonderful Cat in a Hat!

                                Rach and Shazza!

And who do we spy?
It’s Thing One and Thing Two.
Their shirts are red
Their hair is blue!

                                 Kaz and Kyles!

But fiddle-dee-dee
Double vision I’m sure
Look over there!
Thing Three and Thing Four!

                                   Tanya and Ash!

All we could do was to 
Look! Look! Look!
At all of the others
Who came from a book!

Wally was there…
Wally One, Two and Three

                                   Mrs, G. (D.P.) !

And a Coraline
I can see, see, see!

                               O'Reilly and Sandy!

And a Cinderella
Who’d had a bad night...


                                  Sue and Emma. W.!

And Tinkerbell…


                                    Tash!

And little Snow White!


                                      Christy-lee!

He's lean... he's green
and sometimes mean.
The Hungry Caterpillar
What a grub!
A permanent member of
The supper club!


                                    Emmsie

“I like to be here
Oh, I like it a lot!”
Said a Mr Gum,
“Although, I feel hot!”


                                  Greggles!

Look out! She’s splishy
Look out! She’s sploshy
Look out! It’s... 
Mrs Wishy Washy!


                                 Emm!

Emily Elizabeth
without her hound
and Esmerelda, 
No Hunchback to be found!


                                    Gilly and Bec!

“But that is not all.Oh, no.
That is not all…”
The cat cried loud
In a caterwaul.


Jessie James

In all his moustached glory
And another Jessie
Straight from Toy Story!


                                                      
                                                       Irish Joe and Elle!


There’s still something missing?
The witch and her cat!

We can’t have that!
No we can’t have that!
Why it’s Meg and Mog
No sign of a dog!
No sign of a bird
Or a fish or a frog!


                                Pinky and Sue the Teacher Librarian!


“There’s ANOTHER thing missing!
Oh what can it be?”
Said the cat, “Let me see!
“Let me see! Let me see!”

“Of course! – It’s Elvis!

But methinks it is CROOK!
Because Elvis 
never appeared 
In a children's book!


                                 Mr. G! Our Chaplain!

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

What Teachers Really Want to Say!!


Hey guys! 
Look at my address bar above!!!
Pinky, (thanks to the handsome and techno-savvy Scotto) now has her very own website, www.pinkypoinker.com.au.
Yay!

Since January, Pinky Poinker has accrued over 
30 000 pageviews, which unfortunately has further encouraged me to continue with my silly posting and upgrade to my own domain. Thank you to each and every one of you for supporting me and reading my drivel every night. 

I seriously love youse all!

Tonight I have penned a little ditty I hope my colleagues (and anyone else for that matter) may find a bit funny... and true!



“Be quiet please!”

You hear me wheeze

“You’re way too loud

For a small sized crowd

Of children in a tiny room,

That one might easily assume

Ensconced inside this messy place

We have the entire human race.

I said, shut up! you rowdy mob

Don’t make your teacher rue her job

Shut your traps! I’ve had enough

I’m just about to get really tough.

Shut your cake holes! Zip your lips!

You need to stop and get to grips.

Shut your pie hole, naughty child.

Your teacher’s growing crazy wild!

This is a classroom, not a zoo

That screaming I will soon subdue

With a time out in the corner there!

All day you’ll stay, I just don’t care.

I’ll hang you out the window soon

I’ll leave you there all afternoon

I’ll get a muzzle in a sec...

And gag you all! Oh what the heck…

I know I can’t. There’s teacher rules

I have to use my management tools.

I can’t scream out or slap the child

Doesn’t matter how much I’m riled

There’s only one thing that’s approved

To ensure that the teacher is not removed

From her teaching duties and given the sack

We have to cast our eyes right to the back

Of the room and find the solitary soul,

The child who's not a complete butt-hole,

And point them out and declare out loud

To get the attention of the disorderly crowd

“Thank you so much to the boy I can see,

Who’s sitting and quietly listening to me.”

Thursday, August 8, 2013

What the hell are they teaching kids these days?


                                   Padraic, hard at work!


"Me and Matthew Arnold"

Last night, 8:00pm.

Padraic: “Mumma Bear! Can you help me with my poetry assignment? I know you love poetry…”

“Do I Padraic?” I eyed him cynically, “Do I really? When is it due?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

Bloody typical, I thought. “You write the draft and I’ll take a look at it tomorrow,” I sighed in defeat.

With Padraic and Lulu both firing towards the end of grade twelve, I’m thinking this may be the very last assignment I will have to ‘help’ one of my kids with, EVER!

The ‘draft’ was waved in front of my coffee cup in the form of a USB stick this afternoon.

Hmmm… I mused. An essay on Canonical poet, Matthew Arnold’s poem, “Dover Beach”.

Canonical? What the hell is that? I skated through the mildewed labyrinth of my brain searching the rusting filing cabinets stuffed with the useless information I’ve collected over the past three decades.

Seems I’d lost the key to the skates and the filing cabinets.

The real issue however is this; Padraic’s career aspirations feature gaining employment as a Plumber’s apprentice. How is this assignment possibly going to assist him in fixing water pipes and unclogging S-bends?

Unless he applies for a job with a Canonical poet-loving plumber of course…

“Grogans Beached” by Pinky Smith.

The pipes have burst again.

The bowl is full, the poo lies fair

Upon the floor; in the next room the torch

Gleams and is gone; the wrench and pump stand

Glistening and moist, out in the backyard shed.

Come to the window, fetid is the foul air!

Only from the long line of spray

Where the pee meets the sun-bleached rug,

Listen! You hear the grating sound

Of flushing, when the pipes draw back, and fling

The brown turd, up the cistern,

Begin, and cease, and then again begin,

With tremulous groaning slow, and bring

The eternal pile of floaters in.

So anyway… we had to write about the ‘gaps and silences’. Well the only gaps were the gaps in the information Padraic left out of his draft and the only silences were when I ordered Padraic to mute the television because I couldn’t concentrate with “Deal or No Deal” blaring in the background.

There was also a puzzling question about a “resistant reading”. The only resisting that occurred was me, resisting the urge to slap Padraic over the head with the task sheet when he became distracted by his mobile phone.

Reluctant as I am to ever give advice to ANYONE, I will impart two tips on helping your kids do their English assignments.

#Tip 1. Dumb it down big time.

#Tip 2. See above.

For a related post on homework horrors please click on…Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf

The real first verse of “Dover Beach”

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin.
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.