A COCKNEYS LOT (Chapter One)

Michael Edwards

A COCKNEYS LOT (Chapter One)

 

 

Woke from bo peep

and rubbed me mince pies

and looked at the dickory dock.

 

Tiddlers bait, couldn’t wait,

need a tom tit and jimmy

took a bowl to the wooden log.

 

Couldn’t Adam and Eve it

oh boy was it taters

my khyber felt just like white mice.

 

To the bob squash room

with a cape of good hope

to wash my boat race and bushel.

 

A butchers in the snake

oh a real two and eight

better dad and dave and comb of the barnet.

 

 

 

Translation: 

 bo peep = sleep
mince pies = eyes
tiddlers bait = late
tom tit = s**t
Jimmy = jimmy riddle = tiddle = wee
wooden log = bog = toilet
adam and eve = believe
taters = taters (potatoes) in the mould = cold
khyber = khyber pass = arse
white mice = ice
bob squash - wash
cape of good hope= soap
bushel = bushel and peck = neck
butchers = butchers hook = look
snake = snake in the grass = (looking) glass
two and eight = state
dad = dad and dave = shave
barnet = Barnet Fair = hair

 

 

  • Author: Michael Edwards (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 7th, 2017 01:11
  • Comment from author about the poem: Today's offering plus one of my rural sculptures. Translation given underneath the poem and explanation given in the comments
  • Category: Humor
  • Views: 37
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Comments +

Comments6

  • Michael Edwards

    A word of explanation for those of you not in the know.A cockney is (or was) someone born in the East End of London traditionally within the sound of Bow Bells. They were members of the indigenous race but with changing demographics they are very much a dying breed. To preserve exclusivity they invented a language of thier own known as rhyming slang.

    Most were of two words long but many were shortened to just one word as in jimmy in this poem. Many of the expressions survive to this day and although I am not a cockney I was born and raised in London and was familiar with them mainly learning from my father who was born near the near East End and used them regularly.

  • Goldfinch60

    Understood every word, I come from the souf east where we speak proper.

    • Michael Edwards

      Well dun me ole geezer. Anyway I'm puttin' on me daisies an' orf darn the frog soon to do some paintin'.

      • Goldfinch60

        Watch out for the jam jars as you bowl darn the frog me ould mucker.

        • Michael Edwards

          Not so much the jam jars where I live in the sticks - its the 'orses tom tit in the bread and butter that's the problem.
          Just remembered - isn't a horse a Charing Crawse (Cross) ?

        • WriteBeLight

          I absolutely love the language. Great work Michael. Sculpture is wonderful, as well.

          • Michael Edwards

            Thanks WBL - a lot of the terms are now adopted across the country. You will often hear people saying 'Lets have a butchers' when they want to see something or 'just off for a jimmy' or 'its a bit of a two and eight' - this last one derives from our currency before it was decimalised ie two shillings and eight pence.

            • WriteBeLight

              Ah. I see. Very educational. Very cool or great! 😉

            • willyweed

              we have the same thing here as far as telling where a person is from northeast, south, south west or north, so watts the problum overher' you from tha Bronx or somem' fa git abut it. how ya doin'

              • Michael Edwards

                We're not so different are we. Just as all Americans sound the same to us Brits I expect all Brits sound the same to Americans. It's down to the practised ear - now there's a great title for another poem. Where's that blasted pencil?

                • willyweed

                  are you from far or near... fairly close or so I hear? yeah you may have one?

                • MendedFences27

                  Wicked awesome Michael. Just more slang from the Boston locale. Within the sound of Beau Bells. I've heard from a friend. is the true Cockney. It's hard to imagine a rapid exchange in this dialect, but Londoners due tend to speak quickly. Getting up in the morning and using the language of the Cockney would tire me out such that would have to return to bed. A very humorous poem, fun to read and translate.- Phil A.

                  • Michael Edwards

                    Thanks Phil - yes the Cockneys do speak at quite a rate of knots but as I said somewhere above, they are something of a dying breed. I go back to the East end of London quite regularly and travelling on a good old red London bus I am often the only white face and not a true cockney in sight. I'm not making the point out of any sense of prejudice - just to demonstrate the change over my own lifetime in the demographics.

                  • Augustus

                    Thanks for the lesson, humor and a glimpse at your sculpture.

                    • Michael Edwards

                      Thanks Augustus and so glad you enjoyed it. It would be great if others posted poetry reflecting a bit more of culture as we have a diverse set of contributors - thanks again.



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