[Brian Allgar]

But I hope you'll also be saying something bad about him, Adrian.

[Pedro Poitevin]

Too bad it can't be more than sixteen lines. I've got Romney's villanelle!

[Adrian Fry]

John, 've done Prescott many times before - won a New Statesman comp with a Prescott love poem once. Alas, I keep no copies of my work or I could send that in again - at least a decade has passed.

Although Prescott is in many respects awful, he is one of the last characters in Brit politics. Who, after all, could do Nick Clegg, Cameron or Mililililibland? There's nothing to get hold of but a sort of interchangeable management speak in any of their styles.

[John Whitworth]

I did Tony Blair once. Does he count? After all, he's still alive and lying. And then there's Broon. And I think one could confect a Michael Gove. There are more characters than you think. Of course Enoch Powell and Lord Hailsham actually WROTE poetry.

Here's Tone.

An Ode to the British People

I’m so sorry, oh so sorry, I’m so very, very sorry.
No-one else could feel the pain I do.
There’s no language I can borrow for the sharpness of my sorrow
For the sorry things I did to you.

Oh I wish I hadn’t done them. No I never should have done them,
But I did them and I can’t say more.
I deplore them and I rue them and I wish I could undo them
Which I think is what I said before.

You’re so caring, you’re so clever, if you ever, ever, ever
Could endeavour to forgive me, then
What a wonder would our life be, how harmonious and strife-free,
For I’ll never be as bad again!

Well of course, my little treasures, my remorse is beyond measure,
And I’m sorrier than I can say.
And, my ickle-pickle poppets, should you just contrive to drop it
I’ll be sorry till my dying day,

[Adrian Fry]

John Prescott

Because obviously – and we can all share our differential opinions on this –
Love. I mean, take my Pauline, for instance, else both or either of the Jags,
I can’t imagine life without them; no more the smoker could his fags
But there’s evidentially more to it than just things you’re going to miss.

Because actually – not unwithstanding what the cynics either side may say –
Love. For God or country, for exemplar, or, as in my case, decent scran,
Proper pies, chips in beef dripping – such things as made me who I am,
The stuff that gives life flavour with their savour, what that be it may may.

Because naturally – and I speak for the vast minority in this country in saying so -
Love. I mean, yes, a sexual dimension, that buxom leather trousered lass
As once could bring me to attention with just one joggle of that ass,
But not just her, no, all those filibusted girls the young men want to know.

Because absolutely – and I think I can say that without fear of contravention –
Love. All you need, the Beatles reckoned, and, I mean, who’s going to quibble?
With poets and whatnot backing them up, my tuppenceworth seems drivel.
Pretentious, moi? Perhaps I am; just thought it something I should mention.

[Marion Shore]

Originally Posted by Pedro Poitevin

Too bad it can't be more than sixteen lines. I've got Romney's villanelle!

Could you make it into a villanette?

[Chris O'Carroll]

Marion, I think it might be OK to count Bush as a "contemporary politician." The definition of that term is admittedly a bit fuzzy around the edges. But if Tony Blair and John Prescott fit the profile, even though neither of them holds elective office at the moment, then W might also fit.

(Perhaps my information on Prescott is out of date. He's got a seat in the House of Lords, but isn't he now, or hasn't he recently been, a candidate for something else?)

[Lance Levens]

In the interest of bi-partisanship:


Oh Gee! Oh Me! I've made it to the top!
(I saved my special kiss for Camera Two.)
It's true: they need me. (May they never stop!)
So, here am I, all dewy in the loo.

I'll win! I'll shine! With fair unblemished skin
I'll slice our taxes like a bearded Jew.
I'll crack Barack (since I've never known a sin)
Just see my teeth--that's all you have to do.

I procreated like a crazy man
and now my sons--they chatter like me too.
After a Romney quarter century span
The Times can kiss the backside of a gnu.

Now if I can just unlock this thing...
I'll bet the lock's Chinese, some sneaky Woo.
They're sabotaging me! I'm George, The King!
I won't get down and crawl through common poo!

[John Whitworth]

Prescott wants to be a local Police Chief. Blair wants to be President of Europe. Why not? Fit him like a glove I'd say.

[John Whitworth]

And here's Michael Gove. Note to furriners. He is just as I describe.

I'm Gove

I'm Gove and I'm bright as a button.
I'm Gove and I'm Scotch as the drink.
With a swing of my kilt I can prove to the hilt
Whatever I want you to think.

I'm Gove and I'm loud as the thunder.
I'm Gove and a cabinet star.
Though some say that Gove is a rum sort of cove,
I'm the fellow who wins the cigar.

I'm Gove and I'm right as a trivet.
I'm Gove and I go with the flow.
I'm abreast with what's what, I'm one hell of a swot
And there' s nothing at all I don't know.

I'm Gove and I'm happy as Larry.
I'm Gove and I'm clever as clever.
Why, my pants are so smarty, the whole Tory Party
Will make me their leader for ever.