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"Short Poem Competition Revival"

I don't need to introduce this. It;s the Short Poem Competition. I give you a word, you create literary verse about it and then, magically, a winner is produced. The winning date shall not be announced. Ever.

The words you have to base your brilliance around are below

'(Park) Bench'

Get styling, you hip young cats.

WINNER

Ashman wrote:
> Playing for the jersey
>
> The yellow slides over skin,
> New day, new match, new chances.
> Strolling upon a fresh green pitch,
> Supporters aim their glances.
>
> The jersey owns me, I play for it,
> I love the Crew, I’m Columbus bred.
> It runs deep inside me, yellow blood,
> Without this passion I would be dead.
>
> Give me the ball; a sphere of chance.
> Give me a yard.
> Half a yard.
> Give me anything.
> I want to give the Crew what they deserve.
>
> ”I play for the jersey. I love Columbus.”
>
> And the shirt comes off.
> The gloves removed.
> Buddle twelve.
> CROO APPROVED.
>
> bench

That last poem wasn't detailed enough

B-

Homework

[I]1 Hour
60 minutes
ARGH

Time Gentlemen Please

[I]Do you remember
when the Prof won 2 quid on that?

80's Matchbox B-Line Disaster

[I]dadadadadaDA DA
dadadadaDA DA
dadadadaDA DA DADA

I'm So Hurt

Mattribute,
Why persist?
Why resist?
You know I'm right.

After all...
I always am.

Oh and please shut up and then get down to writing a proper poem instead of this nonsensical crapo-verse. Please.

Taste

[I]Taste is a subjective thing
Or maybe objective
Either way, you have none.

No it's not

In answer I say
No, art isn't art

Art

[I]What is art?
Are we art?
Is art art?

It Was a Poem

That's my excuse

Buddle Part 2

[I]Forget that Jesus fellow
Buddle, you're the real saviour of this world.