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What is a SKREWBALL POEM?

A "Skrewball poem" , or in short "a Skrew" , is a poem with short lines and multiple rhyming or repeated words, often wi...

Tuesday, 31 March 2026

Wibble Wobble

Noodle foodle,
Get a poodle,
In a moodle, 
Messy Skrew do. 

Wibble wobble, 
Puke on cobble,
Got no stubble,
Money trouble. 

Legs on bed, 
Better dead,
Chatter head,
Words never read.

So ribble dribble, 
Just 4 Scribble,
Crunchy pibble, 
For Constable Dibble.
 
Poppin smarties,
With no parties,
Lights off shortly,
Sick n poorly. 

My Air flight, 
Dog fight,
Inner might,
Im up all night

Wobbly heart ache,
For Gods sake, 
Ill take a break,
It's final take. 

@2026 All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Saturday, 28 March 2026

Cap Crap

Dressed smart, clean shave, n sat back, 
But 2 the shrink I was a scruff in a cap,
I've never worn one, everyone knows that, 
But didn't stop his report, full of crap. 

Bur I'm always running late for appointment,
A societal n parental disappointment. 
On the search for magic ointment,
To stop the pain in my knee joint. 

Got rotting bones from inside,
And from the agony theres no hide.
Couldn't top myself when I tried,
N doubt anyone cared if I died.

So I'm stuck on this roundabout,
With no one there to help me out.
I get in trouble without a doubt,
So carry my briefs digits all about.

Coz this shits gonna come 2 an end,
Its twisted me round every tight bend.
Got no final address 2 send,
The last letter to write at the end.

So shake the bell on that tree,
Coz one day you'll stop seeing me.
It will happen quite suddenly,
Just be prepared for my tradgedy.

@2026 All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Sunday, 1 March 2026

Sitting Around

I'm just sitting around,

Pounding the ground.

Got too many fears,

To go walking in town.


Social workers ring,

Sayin I need help to think.

But got briefs and lawyers,

And trouble with shrinks.


No one wants to fix my arm,

Guess they think it's self harm.

But no one tried the obvious,

Now I'm left to rot in the farm.


We're all stuck in a human zoo,

Thinking we control what we do.

But we're in a 3D video game,

Zombified robots with no clue.


So I'm sitting around, 

Just pounding my ground. 

I'm just slipping away,

Into a dream, with no sound.


© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid