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... "huge", as in however many enter. I'll judge, hence I can't enter since I would be biased to myself.But anyway, here's my favourite poem that I've written, its pretty long and was posted in the Screening room section. I wrote another about homocide called "My Grandad is a cripple from Glasgow", a parody of Billy Connolly's "My Granny is a cripple from Nashville", but I lost it.
Stevie McGill
Once from a little town near Jacksonville,
Came young man called Stevie McGill,
He went over to the United Kingdom,
To see his mother, who had a problem,
When he arrived all he could see,
Was her body delivered to the mortuary.
He was filled with rage, and killed a doctor,
The body, he tied to an anchor,
Trying to cover up his murder,
But the first mate discovered the blighter,
He pushed the first mate into the sea,
Died by drowning instantly.
Young Stevie was in for it now,
He had to go, the ship was heading for Moscow,
He went to get the first mate’s ID,
And dove into the sea,
As they left port, they met a huge thunderstorm,
The rain came to the ship like a swarm.
They tried to keep the ship afloat,
As it sank, they ran for the lifeboat,
But young Stevie got there before,
And left alone for the shore,
The men on the ship ran for other boat,
Thinking about cutting his throat.
He was getting away too fast,
To God they broadcast,
A prayer of war,
God heard and left the heavens ajar,
He said, “Damnit, missed the bugger!”
As, he hit the chaser.
God was pretty pissed now,
He aimed for Stevie, and somehow,
Hit some girl guides,
While they on their glides,
As Stevie got ashore,
God aimed and hit, iron ore.
This deflected the shot,
Into God’s eye, and it went bloodshot,
He tripped and fell in the sea,
Causing water to flee,
Into the air, it was blasted,
And came to the land, it was flooded,
Stevie ran for higher ground,
A lighthouse he found,
He went inside and to the top floor,
Just as the water down poured,
Onto the nearby town of Portsmouth,
Drowning everyone in the South.
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