The Oldie 'Nudge nudge' results
 

This was a difficult one and we saw only two Spherean entries for it on the thread, one of which was Ann Drysdale's, which John declared to be 'a sure winner'. It absolutely delights me to say his prediction was correct. Well done and many congratulations, Ann (you naughty saucy lady! ;))
(I'd said I could only think of Monty Python when it came to 'Nudge nudge' and then forgot to submit anything. R Monty Williams hit the nail right on the head, though; good for him.)

(The next comp is on a new thread, The Oldie Comp 144 'The End of the World'.)


THE OLDIE COMPETITION
by Tessa Castro

In Competition no 142 you were asked for a poem with the title ‘Nudge, nudge’. Martin Brown had his unheard hero being nudged into signing a form saying ‘Do not resuscitate’ by having attention drawn to: ‘Your body and mind a muddled up mess, / Arthritis, dementia – all that and more, / A burden to your family, and the NHS.’ June Boyle provided a lyric of sleeplessness on one side of a double bed: ‘Tell me a story, / Or sing me a song, / I’ve not slept a wink / And the night is so long.’ Gillian Ewing’s nudge feels a dog’s ‘damp nose nudging wrinkled woolly tights. / Yes, she forgets, believes that mealtime’s past.’ G M Davis’s narrator was a pinball machine who ‘may be rough trade, but I’ve still got my pride’ and is determined to flash up TILT in response to any cheating nudge.
So commiserations to them and congratulations to those who appear below, each of whom wins £25, with the ever-restorative Taylor’s of Harrogate tea and cake set going to the nudged but unwinking R Monty Williams.

Nudge nudge, wink wink – we used to think
That everything Pythonic
Was de rigeur, and funnier
Than anything the box could bring –
It was our weekly tonic.

But now we see old clips, and we
Just stare, devoid of laughter;
The years have gone, and life’s moved on,
And, dare we say, it’s quite passé,
These forty long years after.

The Parrot Sketch that made us retch
With chortles uncontrolled,
Just makes us wince; it’s so long since
The nudge-nudge days, that far-off phase…
It seems we’ve all got old!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxR Monty Williams


Uncle Cliff, who called me ‘boy’
(‘Names don’t stick with me at all’)
Smelt of smoke and corduroy
And used me as his wake-up call.
Prey to inconvenient naps
(It’s gravity that shuts my eyes’)
He always feared some public lapse,
Should slumber take him by surprise.
Beside him on the Sunday pew,
In case the sermon failed to grip,
I’d watch for tell-tale signs I knew,
Then nudge between his ribs and hip.

Now when I, too, can’t keep awake,
That memory digs a smile from me,
But doesn’t, sadly, help to make
My eyelids hold up gravity.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxBill Webster


‘Pure Poetry?’ – headline in the Sunday Sport, August 21st 2011

Upskirt, Whaletail, Cameltoe and Titty
All for a trawl in the red-top kitty
Nipslip, Beaverclip, Crotch-shot and Botty
Who’s for a little bit of paparazzi totty?
Who wants an eyeful? Join the queue.
Wardrobe malfunction – woo-hoo-hoo!
Cruise-boys! News, boys! Mimsy-glimpse!
Make a little payment to the paper-pimps.
Download, Overload, Shootload and Perv
Let’s put the body into body-swerve
Twist it, turn it, look at it askance
Make it serve a purpose in a solitary dance.
If you don’t wanna trip to the strippy-titty tease,
Howzabout some poetry? Oooo – Yes, please!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAnn Drysdale


My conscience has sharp elbows. ‘Oy!’
(Nudge, nudge)
‘What you just said to Gladys wasn’t nice.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be. Keep your advice
to yourself.’ ‘Can’t do that, mate. Got to judge,
you see. Report back to Him on his cloud.
Skilled job. Not everybody’s cup of tea,
this branch of Ethical Security.
Stressful. When you go, I’ll transfer to Crowd
Control.’ The cheek of it! ‘I must point out,’
I say, ‘that you are part of my neuro-
physical functioning, possessing no
autonomous identity without
my living presence.’ ‘Oh, blah flipping blah.’
My conscience is uncultured. If I could,
I’d send it packing and try to be good
alone. But trying is why it’s still here.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAlison Prince

Ann ought to have won. She has written a poem. All the other winners have written accomplished Light Verse.

Thanks, John.

Now, who can spot the teeny weeny difference between what I posted here and what I sent there?

Aha, I've just spotted that your penultimate line on the thread was:

If you don’t wanna wank to the strippy-titty tease,

So you chickened out of sending in the original, Ann? Er... probably a good idea, I'd say!

I corrected 'naughty lady' to 'saucy' above - but I've decided you're both of those, Ann, and you're 'a little devil', to boot :D

I thought Wanking was a town in China until I discovered...