A cockney cunt
Was my old man
Red diesel in his transit van
He raised me like
A boy named Sue
To teach me things
I never knew
Like how to roll a fag with ease
While steering the car with just your knees
When he was young he lost an eye
He never did say how or why
The ‘one eyed bastard’
My pet name for him
He used to take it on the chin
‘Unmarried teenage mother’ was mine
Especially when he was on the wine
A slave to the drink that eventually killed him
His death was quick and my god it was grim
But I’m grateful for all the time that we had
I’m not even a little mad
That soapy tit wank bollocky bastard
My crazy, sweary, lovely twat dad
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Author:
jenny.g (
Offline) - Published: April 17th, 2023 14:12
- Comment from author about the poem: I remember him exactly as he was and I’m thankful.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments2
I started to read this and stopped at the "c" word.Sorry that's not my idea of a tribute.Just sayin
Couldn’t give less of an f word 😂. It was our relationship and words he used regularly.
Yeh - I do find some of David's interventions somewhat unnecessary; however, in this instance I share a little of his trepidation over 'cunt' as a term of abuse, and have only tried to use it when in close contact with the organ it represents. Take it from me I am otherwise pretty much potty-mouthed.
Good grotty write though.
I realise the word can be triggering for some. It was use by my pops as a term of affection 😂. Thank you for your comment.
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