Poetry?!
Scared to get in touch with our innerselves?
Not TBR!

We are quite happy to be up to our armpits in the offal of our own making.

Ever been so gushing with love, pathos, wonder, happiness, music, vomit or jism that you felt you were about to explode?  No? Why not?! Go get a life!

Here at TBR we are always gushing with something or other and quite often the only method of relief we can find is to set out our feelings as an iambic pentameter, a sonnet, a haiku, blank verse or as simple rhyming couplets.

So if one day when atop a mountain side you suddenly become overwhelmed by the beauty of nature, don't be furtive about, whip out your pen and get coupling! Then send it us!

On mountains and the wheels that surf them.
On love, affairs of the heart and hardcore frotting.
On bonkers stuff like fast and bulbous - got me?
On fraternity and the simple love shared between simple men.

On Mountains and the wheels that surf them.

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Wordsworth or Gobshite?

I wandered, lonely as a clod,
that rides on high o'er vale or hill,
when all at once I came upon,
an idiot wrapped around a gatepost,
nothing like daffodils really.

Domster.

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The Yin and Yang of cycling physiology.

She told me that I had nice legs,
Even though I scoff fried eggs.

She told me that my thighs were hard,
Even though I feast on lard.

She told me that my calves looked tough,
Even though I like plum duff.

She told me that my abs were flat,
Even though I use full fat.

She told me that my pecs were fine,
Even though I dig on swine.

She asked me how I kept so fit,
I told her that I "rode a bit".

She told me that she already knew,
(my cock is numb and balls bright blue).

Scotster.

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Snake bite.

Hard hit,
Tyre nipped,
Twin holes,
Air goes.

Rogster.

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To the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's "feeling groovy":

I'm looking for trails and feeling fruity,
baba ba baa ba baa ba, feeling fruity,
baba ba baa ba baa ba, feeling fruity.

Rogster.

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Gravitational modes of failure

Down - Hill
Up - Dale
Down - Path
Up - Trail
Down - Track
Up - Snail
Tree - Smack!
Legs - Fail.....

Scotster.

-------------------------------------

Knacker Cracker.

Hit rock.
Bike stop.
I not.
Hurt cock.

Scotster.

-------------------------------------------

Autumn

"Autumn is the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness"

Rogster.

On love, affairs of the heart and hardcore frotting.
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Here's what she said to me....

Kay, Sarah Sarah........
Whatever will Bea, will Bea,
The Fiona's not Michelle, Tootsie,
Kay, Sarah Sarah......

Scotster.

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c-s-o-a

I am c-s-o-a
currently starved of affection
a hug would be nice
a shag would be great
nothings coming in my direction.

Tim Willis - Goode Life Consultant.

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The cod wars. Part I.

Just got a note from Kata,
the first in two months.
I couldn't walk or talk for two hours.

Scotster.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dark thoughts.

Cycling through the dark
last night
I had the conversations I should have had.

Carster.

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The cod wars. Part II.

Oh Mr Burgess.
You're in a Mess.
Your hormones are in whirl,
just can't forget that girl.
Icelandic chick,
slightly volcanic.
Your heart she did assault,
amongst the rough edged basalt.

Domster.

On bonkers stuff like fast and bulbous - got me?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambelside.

I want to be,
under the sea,
in a furry fish's garden,
in the shade.

Domster.

---------------------------

Summer holiday.

One week to go,
One week to go,
Ee aye bananio,
One week to go.

Rogster.

-----------------------------

Ashley's do.

Alas
I missed the deadline,
In my game that's nothing new,
You wanted a verse about Ashley,
Or specifically, his do,
pyrotechnic splendour,
Ozzies bearing their breasts,
burgers, booze, scalextric,
and a sprinkling of Roger's ex's.

Domster.

On fraternity and the simple love shared between simple men.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

82 Kg and Rising.

Ooohhhhhhh Scott,
Wherefore you have not, ridden in nigh on three weeks.
You will surely get fat,
And get a big bloated belly,
just like a warthog (that I saw once on telly)

Domster.

---------------------------------------------

The simple things.

When I was young
it was simpler
I got on my bike and went
where I wanted
and came back later
or sooner
if I wanted.

Now I am older
I spend most of my time
waiting for a buffoon

Carster.

--------------------------------------------

A Christmas Poem

It is a place of beer,
It is a place of cheer,
It is a place we all know well.
It is a place we make promises,
It is a place we break promises.
It is a place once a year we gather,
It is the Acorn.

See you their my friends.

Ashster