Parliamentary poetry

Kemptville or Bedell?

South of Ottawa, not Ficko!
Past Manotick and Greely
Beneath Enniskerry, Carsonby and Kars
Is a smallish place called Kemptville
Where the people dream of riding
On the Rideau
In the summer
When it's warm

Away from all the nonsense
That is Ottawa and Hull
Where politicians argue non-stop
About it all
The old folks, out of boredom
Discuss the importance of the boundaries
Do you live in Kemptville or Bedell?

And should a wayward Senator
Get confused and end up lost somehow
Where 43 and 44 intersect the town
You can bet he'll be directed
By some oldster on the Rideau
Towards the water
On fair Prescott
Farther down

So just remember if you go there
And your job is somehow tethered
To the windbags that live north of this small town
Say nothing! Do not speak!
Or you'll not last out the week
'Cause they'll take you to the river
To be drowned!

- copyright 2007, Murphy

Curious Cdn
I spent a week in the Provincial Park at Kemptville on the canal last summer as my son and I explored the region. It was nice to visit Ottawa without having to stay in Ottawa.

... nice quiet park.

The legion has a stinking huge self-propelled gun out front, though. I want one for commuting.
October 16, 1834

Floating softly o’er the pale blue water,
Small tufts of ash spin and twist,
As raging blasts of colour burst from above.
Peaceful is the harbour while the land is frantic.
The brick and mortar crumble,
The shrieks and cries drowned out by the roar of flames.
Looking down from heaven,
The gods cannot help.
As the blaze rained down o’er the water,
An acrid scent wafts through the city.
800 years of history,
A day and a half to rip it down,
Disappearing into the rubble.
The truth of disaster,
Lost in the thrill of it all.
The sultry air thick with smog,
A city short of breath.
Parliament is aflame.

Copyright Emily Parent, 2017 | Yea
It's a shame the whole city isn't burning, but it will happen.

That's not poetry. It's sh!t. Go find a mosque to play in.

I am a UK MP and my wife
is now my ex, Now I'm in the Parliament
- I get a lot of sex.
We have to stick together,
when you are an MP,
We always like to cavort daily,
and all the sex is FREE!

This house is also corrupt,
and so are we PMs,
We always dodge all the questions - and we're all addicted to sleaze!
And if you happen to be married, you must not admit to that.
Just live by the rules and you'll blend in - it is all tit-for-tat!

We lead a privileged life,
and we do NOT follow rules,
We always enjoy our perks - spinning as we so choose!
There is a cellar in the house - where our sin is at its best.
But you do have to go in naked - you mustn't wear a vest!

Your "loyal" wife is also there - she's shafting someone new.
That's the pleasures of the UK parliament, a privilege for the few.
Your husband is also there - but he's with another man,
What the heck is going one - everyone's a tran?

Once you're in the UK parliament, the sex is there for you.
But every time in the lunch hour - there's always a bloody queue!
All this hanky panky - and expenses cover this.
Every day a different partner - an MP's life is bliss.

For every male MP there is a leggy lady secretary,
And if you play your cards right - she'll dance upon your knee!
The pleasures of an MP are endless and relaxed.
But should you get caught with your trousers down - you surely will be axed.

There is a special meeting room and all in perfect reason.
There's a special blend of entertainers - especially if you are a lesbian!
Yes, folks, we have them here - including rent boys for the perverted.
It really is a different world - to which MPs are always suited!

You can always misbehave, but try to keep it 'top secret'.
Even as Culture Secretary, the press will make you fidget.
You might have a powerful job, and know friends in very high places,
But the next time you "drop your pants" - be aware you're wearing braces!

I am the speaker of the commons and I'm only very short,
But with my leggy secretary, I always do cavort.
I am only small in height - but my ego is so BIG,
When I'm in the "bonking house", I perform an Irish jig!

We all do have titles - and so do all the women,
Some are known as "SEX WORKERS" - my god, a bloody omen!
Anything goes in the UK parliament,
For details of all the sex - we'd have to make a statement!

The gravy train is for us - as there isn't any limits.
We have our pick of frills galore, we always have private visits!
All the vice is free - if you are a corrupt MP,
Roll up! Roll up! The prostitutes are all FREE!!!!

All the parliament, is corrupted to the core.
And when we meet the "sex workers" - we always do want more!
The passion wagon is our delight - and the prostitutes are always FREE.
But we always screw the system - perks, to you and me!

I have my seat now in the lords - my male prostitute is now here.
"Oh, didn't I tell you - I like boys too - I'm feeling rather queer!
From Brazilan rent boys - to the Quentin Crisps, they are always on the menu.
All the bonking with prostitutes - please, do join the queue!

So I welcome you, my dear friend, to the house of vice and sin.
Let me give you some advice - before you do begin:
'You'll love it in the UK parliament - as a young MP.
There's lots of "sex workers" by the score - and it is always FREE!'

The UK Parliament is the place to be and were the lust is found.
And sweaty corrupt' MP members in chains, they are always bound.
Get into parliament, and enjoy "sex workers" at your ease,
Welcome to the UK Parliament - a world of Sex and the Sleazy UK MPs!!!!

BY DARRYL ASHTON Copyright Darryl Ashton | 2016
Last edited by Blackleaf; Jun 17th, 2017 at 09:34 AM..

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