The vinceunlimited Poems Page

Welcome to the Poems page of the vinceunlimited website. Or, to rephrase, unsingable lyrics. Here you will find a collection of all limericks, poems, rhymes and verses that I have written.

I am happy for you to be inspired by my poetry, so please quote and re-publish at will. However author and source acknowledgement should be the minimum obligations.

The poems are listed in alphabetical order and can be navigated by clicking on the vSearch links below.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.321 26 Jun 2021
Poems section first published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
2021 website updates [see website page for full details]: Version m5.321 26 Jun 2021

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Alphacar - Brand New Noise - Poignant Verse - Pony - Tea


A to Zoom

A photoshopped rear view of a red Ferrari 360 prominently displaying the registration number plate V1 NCE

I was talking to a friend of mine
about cars that people drive.
We all have preconceived ideas
about their thoughts and lives.
And when I thought back on my life
and cars I used to own,
I fitted all the types there were.
And I was not alone.

I started with an Austin.
A10 I think it was.
I loved that little car you know,
with its paint a thick black gloss.
But when I was in the country
and doing thirty-five,
All I got was horns and lights and people
shouting "You can't drive!"

So I got myself a new car.
I felt just like a king,
Even if the handling was
like a prayer upon a wing.
But my Beetle days still haunt me.
In spirit anyway,
I still want love not war you know ...
and at any time of day.

Those days with my old Beetle
made me think environment,
My mind was getting greener
about the energy we spent.
So I went down to the High Street
and got my fivers out,
And bought the latest fashion
one couldn't do without.

I purchased one of those things
Sinclair called a C5.
I even bought the pole and flag
so I'd be seen and kept alive.
I thought I was a hero and
pollution was no longer,
But everyone who saw me in the street
thought me a plonker.

I had to go upmarket
so I became a Gent.
My Daimler was a class act,
everywhere it went.
With tables in the rear
and leather lined throughout.
The shiny paint was gleaming,
I never had a doubt.

Until someone with a switchblade,
ran it down the side.
I couldn't keep the car no more,
so sold it then I cried.
I had to get a basic car,
something not so new,
An ubiquitous vehicle,
an old Escort would do.

Although it was a simple thing
I liked that little car,
And when the MOT ran out
I didn’t look too far.
The company helped my choosing,
I wasn’t at a loss,
They brought out a modern version.
I brought a new Focus.

I had the modern family car
but with styling like a shark,
But I couldn’t find the damn thing
when in a big car park.
So I changed it for another.
A car that looked much harder.
The Sweeney gave me the idea,
I brought a black Granada.

I raced it here and raced it there
all around the town,
But when the local bank was done
they nearly sent me down.
I had to trade it in for something
not so big and black.
So brought a Hillman next.
An Imp, with its engine at the back.

I tottered round the roads nearby
but never went too mad.
The handling was, lets put it this way,
pretty flipping bad.
One day I took a corner,
I was only doing twenty-eight,
The skinny tyres gave me no grip,
the car just went on straight.

Over pavement, through the hedge,
half way up a leap.
I thought, this was fun I'll go again
but this time in a Jeep.
My off-roader was a total hoot.
I went round with muddy feet,
And everyone got out the way
when I drove down the street.

But the Jeep was far too thirsty
and I’m a sometimes frugal man,
I still needed all the cargo space
so I brought a Kangoo van.
Economy and load lugging -
they were second to none.
But nought to sixty in eighteen secs
meant I didn’t pull anyone.

And a man has needs above
the needs of his economy,
So I splashed my cash and traded up
for a new Lamborghini.
Ray–bans specs, laying rubber lines
and acting just like Rambo,
I terrorised the neighbourhood
driving in my Lambo.

It had to go when I got caught
going more than fifty-five.
Not much you think, but then again,
it was in my front drive.
And when I tried to fit it past
all the cars in my small street,
It wouldn’t fit as it was about
as wide as seven feet.

I changed the car for something that
I could drive most anywhere,
A shopping trip, an opera,
a classless car without a care.
My little Mini would park up
outside a flash boutique,
Or fit in with chavs at markets
collecting their cheap meat.

So I lavished love and bits on it
at every opportunity,
So much that it resembled
last year’s Christmas tree.
And when the thing was laden down
with all the bits from near and far,
I decided to trade it in
for a proper custom car.

I looked around the free-ads
and asked around the meets,
But most were overpriced
and under funded junk-yard heaps.
Finding one seemed just like hunting
out a four-leaf clover,
So I bought the latest 'in-thing'
a custom Vauxhall Nova.

The bonnet bulge and paintwork
made it stand out alright,
And the turbo-charged conversion
set the big fat tyres alight.
Even the huge spoiler,
which did nothing for my front wheel drive,
Seemed to shout I'm here - I'm now -
I'm definitely alive.

But then I got my hair cut
in the shape of cheddar cheese,
And wore my jeans hung down so low
the crotch was near my knees.
And when I got the beanie hat,
worn facing back to front,
It fell across my eyes
and resulted in a shunt.

The Nova was a write off
(all I salvaged was the dice),
So I had to start again from scratch
and look for something nice.
The fancy car mags were the first place
that I kept my eye on,
So, how is it I ended up
with a mangy Ford Orion?

I guess they call it growing up
and finally settling down.
The car was Mr. Sensible -
for motorway or town.
I only had it two months,
but it really seemed an age,
I guess that's what happens
when you drive something beige.

And in those two months living
with the dreadful booted Ford,
Invisibly travelling round the place,
getting me quite bored.
I had to get a car that shouted out
until it’s hoarse.
Yes, you’re there before me.
A turbo-charged black Porsche.

I was the Mr. P-Man.
Seeing cars off at every light.
I’d give the single finger
but I never stayed to fight.
They just couldn't catch me
when I laid my horses down.
The kids would grow up thinking
I'm King without a crown.

I attained a God like status,
pulling all the skirt,
I saw so much good loving
that things started to hurt.
But when I faced up to a car
and saluted in my way,
I didn’t realise his little Caterham
could blow me away.

And when he got my number
and threatened life and limb,
I chose to ditch the Porsche
and get a hiding thing.
Something that had no-one thinking -
he is up for S.E.X.
And Nissan came to my rescue
with its big QX.

Now Q-cars look quite normal
but are faster underneath,
With acceleration giving goose bumps
and speed to clench your teeth.
It was big and strong and manly
but this was not enough,
The stylist had a day off
when this car was signed off.

And with performance comes the cost,
fuel soaked up like a sponge,
But the styling didn't get the looks
despite being painted orange.
It finally put paid to all fast living
and days out clubbing.
I had more luck when I changed it
for a new Reliant Robin.

A new Reliant Robin buyer -
I must have been a mug,
The salesman saw me coming
and sold me a three-pin plug.
If you missed a hole with the front wheel
the back would surely find.
Speed-humps eventually wrecked the car
and rattled up my mind.

So I changed again and this time
I went out all the way,
I brought a big red car with wings –
a Chevrolet Stingray.
I posed about the town again
driving like a lout,
But as it was American
it didn’t make the roundabout.

A British car would make more sense
than a big Yankee car,
And nothing seemed better
than one named after a girl's bra.
The Triumph was a perfect car
made in steel for Purdy's Steele,
But rust took away the pleasure
along with the nearside cill.

I needed a rainproof vehicle
'cause I parked it near the shore,
Where savage rains and sea-salt
oxidised metal to the core.
I had to get some transport
built for this environment,
And invested in a U-boat
from the German government.

Now, as you can imagine,
this idea was not plain sailing.
At over fifty years old
I spent too much time a'bailing.
And when I visited relatives
or went down to the mall,
Torpedo tubes and periscopes
couldn’t make up the shortfall.

I sold the boat to a contact
in a complex and shady deal,
He would let me know his name,
but Prince H was on the bill.
I had to get a some normal wheels
and settled on a car,
You can’t get more normal
than a (yawn) Vauxhall Vectra.

The lanes of Britain’s motorways
opened up for me.
I say the lanes, actually it was only
the one we all call three.
I finally had a way to do ninety mph
city-to-city hacks,
And as a bonus somewhere
to hang my coat up in the back.

But doing this for nine months solid
without missing out one beat,
I put too many miles on
and had a rapid over-heat.
I needed a new engine
and wanted something cool.
I went for a different way of things
and brought a new Wankle.

The rotary engine was a talking point
in shops and at the Pub,
But when I loudly said its name
I got fired from the country club.
They wouldn’t let me back in
until I apologised and show,
I could get a classic British car
to sit in the member's row.

But I had followed alphabet choice,
so was a good trendsetter,
And classic steeds did not start
with requisite next letter,
But Jaguar they saved the day
and followed up the hype,
With a brand new four-wheel drive,
shiny new X-type.

With all my wheels in motion
I could climb the highest peak,
But spent all day in traffic jams,
cars tucked cheek to cheek.
The daily grind was wasteful
as the fuel gauge dropped so far,
But that was nothing next to depreciation
that fell off the radar.

I had to ditch the cruise control
and my leather seats all had to go,
I swapped it at a dealers
for a few grand and a nearly new Yugo.
And that is why I’m writing this
to recall my memories.
I’ve been from A to Y in cars
and motoring was a wheeze.

But I have yet to finish -
It's the way that I behave,
And I’ve settled on the last one
that shall take me to the grave.
When I’ve saved enough to get me
a fast zed for a few bob.
A classic Kawasaki or
a Zonda Paganini should do the job.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.073 21 Feb 2018
First Published: Version 2.00 in May 2005
Performed as part of the vinceunlimited Podcast entitled Alphacar on the vinceunlimited WordPress site dated 29 Oct 2014 []. Also available via Apple iTunes.
The image depicts the rear of a Ferrari 360 with a photoshopped registration number plate. It was taken from a cherished number plate site, source now unknown, around 2002. Please advise if you know of the source material and I will duly give credit. It was added in Version m5.073 21 Feb 2018

Brand New Noise

Emerging from a darkened place
A brand new soul, a brand new face
Welcome to the human race

Fingers counted, then the toes
A dimpled chin, a runny nose
And all wrapped up in warming clothes

A gurgle, sigh, a friendly hiss
A cuddle here, a gentle kiss
This early life is full of bliss

But then a noise to breach a dam
A ripping sound, a thank you Ma'am
My son, indeed, you are a man

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.276 1 Oct 2019 [first publication]

Poignant Verse

Thoughtful Verse


I wish I were a doctor
Then I'd know what's wrong with me
I'd use science and medicine
Not hypochondriary


Santa came round every year
One day he wasn't there
It isn't that he left me out
I just grew too old to care


Every day I saw the sun
One day there was no light
It wasn't that the sun went out
It's just I lost my sight


The weather outside is foul
I wish I were ten again
I used to see the puddles
Now all I see is rain

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.130 8 Jun 2018
First Published: Version 2.03 in Jun 2006


Written for a theatre group and performed live in 1992.

A photograph of two white ponies in a New Forest landscape

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a horse?
Standing in a field things could be worse.
With all your mates around you running fast,
And nowt to do all day but eat the grass.
I doubt if you would ever think you're lonely.
I wonder what it's like to be a pony.

Running on four legs across the dew.
Going to the blacksmith for your shoes.
Jumping over fences six feet tall.
Giving rides to children one and all.
If someone gave a wish, I couldn't lose.
A New Forest pony's what I'd choose.

Of course, there are some bad things that's not right.
Being branded on the bum I would not like.
Having only grass and hay to nibble on,
Oh, I would miss orange jelly and blancmange.
But all in all there really is no doubt,
A pony's what I'm really all about.

But unfortunately dreams don't all come true,
So here I am stood talking here to you.
I wish I were a pony. It's not fair.
But remember - Grass is always greener over there.
I shouldn't make a fuss or be so sad.
'Cause I'm a donkey and that isn't quite so bad.

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.033 7 Dec 2017
Written and performed in 1992
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts two white ponies in a New Forest setting, taken by the author in May 2013. It was added, along with the tags, in Version m5.033 7 Dec 2017


A nonsense written in 1992

A photograph of Vince with a tea mug squatting in front of a row of white Mercedes-Benz E Class cars

When I get up in the morning,
I really can't stop yawning,
Until I've had my first of the day.
And before I sleep at night,
I insist on my right.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

I usually have it at ten.
Two hours later, one again.
That usually keeps me going until three,
When I need one more,
Or maybe two or three or four.
What would I do without my cups of tea?

Well, what did you think I was on about?

In a pub I'll not touch beer,
Or sip a sherry on the pier.
I wouldn't touch a spirit with a pole.
Coffee makes me sick,
And Horlicks gets on my wick.
So you could say that I am tea total.

And when I get old and die,
And meet my maker in the sky.
I'll say to him ... or her, "Just before we settle down.".
Can I have a cup of char?
'Cause I haven't come this far,
To a place where no tea's served in the town.

The morale of this tale,
A tale you all know well,
Is that, if you ever meet me in the square?
Offer white, with just one knob ... of sugar,
Or else you'll have a job,
Persuading me to join you for a chat. So there!

Related Link

Author: Vince Poynter
Version m5.040 17 Dec 2017
Written in 1992
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts the author holding a tea cup whilst squatting by a row of new, white Mercedes-Benz E-Class cars, taken in Jul 2013. It was added, along with the tags, in Version m5.040 17 Dec 2017