Cheap Punk

A poem about lost youth. Life that has gone by so fast, yet seems only yesterday.

I was a cheap young punk
Dressed in others cast off junk
Whatever I could borrow yeah
A charity shop warrior

Safety pins were handy
Stick ’em in and look dandy
Homemade Bum flaps of fur
Round neck, padlock and choker

Crew cut, docs and tight jeans
Drinks, fags and amphetamines
Discos, halls and youth clubs
Getting pissed up in town pubs

Moshing round the dance floor
Punk rock songs of brutal war
Kicking out at brothers
Painful times for our mothers

Captain Kirk has got lost
The Subs sang of holocaust
Mike had a talking bum
Pistols dance till overcome

Now I’m grey and older
I wish I was much bolder
Like I was as a kid
To dance and scream like I did

Punk is dead as we knew
A new age left residue
Rap tracks, hip hop and grime
All that’s left is phony rhyme

© Verb 2022
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critique and comments welcome.
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Bit of nostalgia coupled with a mild rant goes down very well. I guess we all feel like that about our personal eras. Can’t say I was into punk, that was more my brother’s time. I do think some excellent music came out of it though.

One tiny point, Stanza three final line might read better if you changed it to “getting pissed in downtown pubs.”
Sounds a bit American but the extra word helps the flow I would suggest.

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Welcome to UKA, Verb!

I was a punk too, although about 25 years too late. I was a big fan of the UK Subs, so I got your “Warhead” reference. But who is Captain Kirk, other than he of Star Trek fame?

And who is this Mike of the talking bum?

So you had a crew cut, not a mohican… More like a skinhead then?


Aye, as somebody once said “youth is wasted on the young”

Where has all my energy and joie de vivre gone?

The old me would paint the town red, then do an early shift as a trainee nurse. I remember once I fell asleep standing up, washing a man’s leg. 😉
It’s good to look back and laugh though. I feel most sorry for those among us who never had a miss spent youth.

Enjoyed reading.

Alison x


Hi, Verb,
I’m just an occasional humour poet so don’t pay much attention to me but the ‘yeah’ and ‘warrior’ in the first verse didn’t rhyme to my uneducated ears. Likewise ‘fur’ and ‘choker’ in the second.
Other than that, it resonates for someone who was in his early twenties in 1977. That’s when I was inspired to take up guitar because of the primeval punk energy. It was never going to last, which was right. It would have become a cliche otherwise.

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