How the blog works

The poems on this blog are mostly written on the basis of my historical reading and are intended to be both educational and entertaining.
Recently I have also begun posting some of my work with Anglo-Saxon charms. This work is somewhat speculative and is conducted as an amateur researcher and keen Pagan historian.

Please feel free to use anything on this site as a resource if you think that it may be relevant to your needs.

Tuesday, 3 September 2019

There'll auways be Romford


There'll auways be Romford or so-ige n' chips, sor-id mate

Arm from like Ornchurch, in case ya didn't know,
Me mum an dad were poor, we didn't ave much dough.
Its that dodgy taan, next Romford like innit,
Men aul look like bull dogs, an girls arn't aff in it.

It's a 'slag town’ innit, of orange tinged east enders,
Girls walk arand, with dodgy make up on benders.
Daun look at the lads, specil when they’re gattered,
They'll take it as a slur, an ya will be battered.

We had it aul like, brewery, pub an chippy,
Do what yer like, except d'ant be na ippy.
In Romford that made yar, a dodgy art-sider,
The lads would give yar, a proper street slider.

Off daun Romford markit, on sat-day arta-noon,
Barra boyz an veg, yar can't aff ear em croon.
Get yar pair-a caulies, for only artha pand,
Mate gies me that fiver, I'll puta sack in yar and.

There woz na ba-ar sight, than chippy wi spuds,
Got the right dough mate? Just daun't gi him na duds.
This flippin geezer adda, dodgy nine bob note,
Chippy lost is cool, ee took im, by the throat.

Ar ya ge-in ready/in an urri, to meet ya ancestors,
Before ya like spoil ya, cot-on polyesters.
I add to look away, we didn't ave a nurse,
Len sud-nly ee faund, another in is purse.

Its find a girl and bang er, for lads on Friday nights,
While girls walk arand, with dodgy make up an highlights.
Bu we woz aul appi, attending to ar thirst,
There'll always be Ornchurch, coz Romford ai'nt the worst.

Copyright Andrew Rea Lammastide 2019



Introduction

I wrote this to explore the accent that I tried desperately not to acquire. I grew up in this area, it could get a bit rough at times. In my day there was a kind of paranoia on the streets among young people, when you passed someone of similar age in a side street there was a temptation to look back, as often as not they would be doing the same.

The 'street slider' is my expression for being shoved to the side with great force with the clear intention of downing someone – it happened to me once close to Romford station, perhaps because I had long hair.

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