TOEKNEEZ LYRICS & POETRY AKA MAD-TONE AUSSIE BUSH POET

mums garden

2008-10-21T01:41:00.000-07:00

My dear Mum died a couple of weeks ago-through all my years of writing,I've never been able to find the words to tell her what I thought of her.I've written about everything from toothache to piles,love for a child,wife even father--but my mum,was such a hero to me,that I never felt I could find the "just" words--I'm trying now-and I'm sure I'll come up with something.meantime we have installed "mum" in our front garden -A beautiful lady ,now asleep in our garden in Australia,far away from the garden she will rest in,in Cambridge U K,but sentiments reamain the same .I'll miss my weekly,sometimes twice weekly and if I really needed some vital information from my childhood ,like what woman from the village ran away with what bloke,even more often than that.Its all new to me,I still almost pick up the phone to call her--see my Mum died,and she wasn't supposed to do that--other peoples Mums died,but not mine,she's never done anything like that before.

THE BALLAD OF THE GHOST OF JESSE PYE

2008-09-13T03:00:00.000-07:00

Today,Saturday the 13th of September 2008 will see the last competitive game at Fenland Park ,home of the Wisbech Town Football Club.Their home for just over 60 years has been sold to make room for a housing project,to a development company called Purple.Fenland Park has seen many highs and lows over the years.The ground is aged and run down (like many of us I guess)and Wisbech Town will be building a "New Fenland Park" everyone is excited at this,yet sad at leaving the old ground.
One of the greatest players ever to grace Fenland Park,was the ex Wolverhampton Wanderers and England International Jesse Pye,who played under the great manager Oscar Hold back in the 1950's (Jesse also went on to manage Wisbech himself in later years)He is a legend in the minds of many of we older fans of "The Fenmen"--------I just wish there was some way of letting Jesse know that we've left Fenland Park---he's causing a lot of damage.

The Ballad Of The Ghost Of Jesse Pye.

They've taken down the goalposts,
the stands,since bulldozed over.
And where The Fenmen used to play
devoid of grass and clover.
There,where we used to rant and shout
"come on you mighty Reds"
Now,a row of Purple Homes
with sheds,and flower beds.

But,every day when sun goes down
and into to night we pass.
Would come a shout of "give it here"
then, the sound of shattered glass.
When morning came in Purple Street,
as everyone awoke,
they's scratch at heads in wonder
just how their windows broke.

Children playing in the streets?
Maybe drunkards passing by?
No! its the spirit of The Fenmen
lead by Jesse Pye.
For his soul in came a haunting,
gliding in the dark.
Scoring one more goal for Oscar Hold
where once was Fenland Park.

As his spirit shines,where was the pitch
on memory he plays
thinking of the glory seen
on many,long gone days.
And a host of others with him
all are long since dead
There on "The Field Of Shattered Dreams"
Once more,all Men In Red.

For his soul it came a haunting
gliding in the dark.
Scoring one more goal for Oscar Hold
where once was Fenland Park.
and a host of others with him
all are long since dead
There on "The Field Of Shattered Dreams"
Once more.all Men In Red

I AINT GOIN NOWHERE !!

2008-07-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

Great news to Australian folk--The Pope is arriving in Australia next week for World Youth Day.Well,I say good news- rather sarcastic of me.All heathens like me have been told to stay the hell away from Sydney City-don't drive your car,infact we've been told to leave town--take a holiday.People that work in the area are having one hell of a time getting to work--Randwick Race track,where the great event is to be held,has been devoid of horses for weeks--something like $200,000,000 of public money has been spent on the day--when a poor bloody pensioner can't get a $5 a week increase-All for one church---now,good luck to them,and I'm sure it will be a great event--I just wonder if the head of any other church would get the same treatment---well,they wouldnt.
Which brings me to life after death,I'm very confused.--Catholic,Church Of England,Muslim--all those flavours--Heaven-- Hell---70 virgins when you die--no thanks (it amazes me how 70 virgins could be regarded as a reward--70 "you really do love me don't you?"s"--70 "was that a good for you as it was for me"----or something I've become used to "is that all there is to it ?"-------so after much thought I've decided not to die--------infact,

I AINT GOIN NOWHERE

They say good guys go to heaven,
and bad guys? well they don't.
So,we spend our lives treading broken glass
thinking will I or I wont?
But me,I'm in the middle
I've loved girls,drank lots of beer,
But,I help little ladies cross the road
so,I think I'm best left here.

Well I aint goin to heaven
and I sure won't go to hell.
I'll be staying here on earth
and you can stay as well.
The Devil don't appeal to me
with fire,and all those things.
Flying makes me air sick
So,shove those Angels wings.

You'll not find me in a box,
in a church and all that trash.
Don't put me six feet under
or turn my bones to ash.
Cause I aint goin nowhere,you see
this is the life for me.
So,Lord I'm staying here on Earth
and the Devil,let me be.

No flowers at a grave side
no balloons or flying doves.
No sloppy songs that make folk cry
about never dying love.
No talk,of Hell or Heaven
or need for being sad.
Cause I'm staying here forever
be me rotten good or bad.

Well I aint goin to heaven
and I sure won't go to hell.
I'll be staying here on Earth
and you can stay as well.
The Devil don't appeal to me
with fire,and all those things.
Flying makes me air sick
So you can shove those Angel wings,

I said "flying makes me air sick
so,you can shove those Angel wings."

DAVID

2008-05-02T05:11:00.000-07:00

This,is a poem I wrote way back in 1991,and the event took place seven years before that.My children,would have had an older brother David,but he died just a few hours after being born. Very sad,and in those days very difficult to deal with. Not that its easy these days,but 25 years ago there seemed to be very little help available,not for the mother--and even less for the father,who it seemed was to stand straight tall and tough,and be the rock that his wife could lean on."Men don't cry,men don't show feelings,because if you do ,you are weak and others can't depend on you."---and that wasn't just the way people thought,it was what I was told at the hospital.You spend the best part of nine months watching something grow,you ready your home and life to accomodate another person--and then ?--nothing,gone----but get on with your life.
This all comes back to me ,even now when I hear of people going through similar things,be it loss at birth,or loss by accident,suicide,drugs, and such other things later in life--it becomes no easier a loss is a loss,and you can't just "get over it"

DAVID

Many years ago now,I saw our baby die,
yet still,I ask the question,"Why?"
"you'll have to be strong"the doctor said.
"carry on with life,your baby's dead,
your wife,she's in a state of shock-
stand straight,stand tall,just be her rock."
Well,I felt I shouldn't shed a tear,
but Christ ! I saw him laying there.

I saw his feeble fight for life,
I saw more than my darling wife.
But I wasn't allowed that time to cry,
with her so weak,well how could I ?
But still this feeling welled inside,
which long years since,I've failed to hide.
But,at the time,put to the test
I did what the experts- told me best.

But,it seems I didn't have a clue,
it didn't help me,and sure won't help you.
Yet,thats what he told me,"get on with life,
its best for you,and for your wife."
when probably,through all this muddle,
what I needed was to cry,and cuddle.
Love surely finds a better way
to soothe the heartbreaks of the day.

I should have done my thing,but I did theirs,
me being tough,while she shed the tears.
But,my crying all came late at night,
beyond her ears,beyond her sight.
So,I guess she fought all alone,
whilst I held my battle inside.
but how I wished more every day,
that I'd let it go,--and cried.

copyright ToeKneez Lyrics 11/6/991 original --re-write 2/5/2008

THE ABOMINABLE "WHOOOOSH"

2008-04-28T15:57:00.000-07:00

In the Fenlands of England,my dear niece,and Godchild,Suzanne,her husband Chris and many others in the area -are fighting against these wind turbines being erected nearby.I don't know much about them--I think they're ugly and I wouldnt want them next to me--at the same time they are supposed to be environmentaly good and we have to have these type of things. But where ? --well not next to me--and certainly not nextdoor to Suzanne.

It used to be nice,to sit out here
with a nice cup of tea
a wine or beer.
To sit and watch the fading Sun
setting over trees
when day is done.

It used to be nice to hear the birds
But now,it all seems
just so absurd.
They've chopped away the trees,the bush
now all I hear ?
The abominable "whoooosh"

That pulsating noise that fills the air
from those unsightly things
that stand so near.
They say they are good,they say they're green
but to me,they are just
so bloody obcene.

They tell us this power is heaven sent
and doesn't harm
The Environment.
That maybe true,that maybe fair
but not,if you're the poor bugger

living here.

And ugly too,just look at that
all those long,silly poles
in my habitat.
"whooooooosh" there it goes again
enough to drive
this man insane.

A mans home,is his castle,they say
and its true.
But at what cost,what value?
I worked so hard to make it nice
this place,my home,
My Paradise.

So,should your area be next choice
to house these things
shout,with one voice.
Fight like hell,when shove comes to push
to avoind these things.
The Abominable "whooooosh!!"

copyrite toeknees lyrics april 08---permit use to Suzanne Wabe for her cause

FOREVER WILL GROW GREEN'N'GOLD

2008-04-22T01:19:00.000-07:00

MANY OF YOU MAY KNOW,MY HERO AND INSPIRATION IN WRITING IS THE GREAT SCOTTISH BORN BUT AUSTRALIA RESIDING ERIC BOGLE-WRITER OF SUCH GREAT ANTI WAR SONGS AS "THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA" AND ANOTHER GREAT SONG RECORDED IN EUROPE BY THE FUREYS "THE GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE"-ONE OF THE GREAT THINGS I LIKE ABOUT ERIC'S WORDS ARE,HE WASTES NOTHING,VERY FEW "LA LA LA'S" IN HIS MUSIC,ALL WORDS THAT HIT THE MARK.
I WAS WATCHING THE TELLY LASTNIGHT,WHEN ON CAME THIS STORY ABOUT AROUND 400 AUSTRALIAN AND BRITISH TROOPS POSSIBLY BEING FOUND IN A MASS GRAVE IN A FIELD IN FROMELLES , FRANCE.FRIENDS OF THE FIFTEENTH BRIGADE ASSOC LED BY LAMBIS ENGLEZOS,CLAIM TO HAVE FOUND THIS GRAVE OF SOLDIERS WHO FOUGHT AND DIED AROUND 1916.JUST HOW MANY BRAVE SOLDIERS LEFT THEIR SHORES,NEVER TO RETURN,BUT TO BE LOST,AND BURIED ON FOREIGN SOIL.
I WRITE THIS SONG,ON BEHALF OF AUSTRALIAN SOLDIERS,SIMPLY BECAUSE IT'S THE WEEK OF ANZAC DAY,(25TH APRIL)THE DAY IN AUSTRALIA THAT WE CELEBRATE THESE PEOPLE.
ERIC BOGLE ??--YES,WELL I DEDICATE THIS SONG TO ERIC,BECAUSE HE HAS A GREAT DEAL TO DO WITH ME THINKING THE WAY I DO ABOUT THESE THINGS.

FOREVER WILL GROW GREEN'N'GOLD

Our lads bled green'n'gold
in the trench's I'm told.
Sang "Matilda" as they faded
they say.
Now they lay 'neath the ground
in a spot never found
In a battlefield so far away.
ch
But the fields are so green
as have ever been seen.
and the leaves on the trees
turn to gold.
for,when they started to bleed
surely planted the seed
that forever, will grow green'n'gold

And to the Mothers
who gave us their children.
to the fathers
who gave us their sons.
May we ever remember,
in our hearts glow and ember
to remind us of what they have done.
ch
But the fields are so green
as have ever been seen.
and the leaves on the trees
turn to gold.
for ,when they started to bleed
surely planted the seed
that forever, will grow green'n'gold.

We must think of them well
for they went through the hell.
So remember on this Anzac Day.
For our children to live
twas their lives
they would give
On the battlefields so far away.
ch
But the fields are so green
as have ever been seen.
And the leaves on the trees
turn to gold.
for,when they started to bleed
surely planted the seed
that forever, would grow green'n'gold
that forever, would grow green'n'gold.

(all words and comments remain the property of Toe-Kneez Lyrics )

THE BUSHMANS PAVAROTTI

2008-04-17T03:26:00.000-07:00

DAVID GORDON KIRKPATRICK,WAS BORN IN KEMPSEY AUSTRALIA 13TH JUNE 1927,AND RAISED NEARBY ON THE NULLA NULLA DAIRY FARM.MANY WOULDN'T RECOGNISE THE NAME,ESPECIALLY OUTSIDE OF AUSTRALIA.BUT DAVID GORDON KIRKPATRICK,IN 1938,BECAME SLIM DUSTY,AND BEGAN THE CAREER THAT MADE HIM THE GREATEST COUNTRY MUSIC ENTERTAINER IN AUSTRALIA'S HISTORY.MAKING OVER 100 ALBUMS.
IN 1958 HE RECIEVED AUSTRALIA'S FIRST EVER GOLD RECORD FOR HIS RECORDING OF "A PUB WITH NO BEER" A SONG EVEN THOSE LIVING OUTSIDE OF AUSTRALIA MAY HAVE HEARD.
SLIM DIED A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO--BUT NOT BEFORE HE'D SPENT THE BEST PART OF 60 YEARS TRAVELLING AROUND,WITH HIS SHOW--TAKING HIM TO JUST ABOUT EVERY SPOT IN THE COUNRY.EVERYONE LOVED SLIM,HE WENT TO THE PEOPLE AND GAVE THEM WHAT THEY WANTED TO HEAR,GOOD MUSIC--LONG LIVE IN OUR MEMORY "THE BUSHMANS PAVAROTTI----SLIM DUSTY

THE BUSHMANS PAVAROTTI

Well,who didn't know,when Slims travelling show
was coming into town?
'Twas time for fun,with the shearing done
to put those wide blades down.
"we're going to have a knees up Mum,
put on your frock,lets go,
with friends no fear,and we'll sink a beer
at Slim Dusty's travelling show."

He was the bushmans Pavarotti,
and the small towns next big thing.
All the drovers found,from miles around
came to hear Slim Dusty sing.

Oh we didn't care how we got there,
by horseback,car or boot
Slim was in town,at the village ground
so pile into the ute.
Heading off down on the Dusty track
on our way,through the station gate.
Be we rich or poor,could we ask for more
than,to have Slim as our best mate.

He was the Outbacks Elvis Prestley
and to the cockeys he was King.
all the shearers that shear,from there to here
came to see Slim Dusty sing

He was The Bushmans Pavarotti
The small towns next big thing.
all the drovers found,from miles around
came to hear Slim Dusty sing.
He was The Outbacks Elvis Prestley
and,to the cockeys he was King.
All the shearers that shear,from there to here
came to see Slim Dusty sing.

All the shearers that shear,from there to here
came to see Slim Dusty sing.
'

DAGGIE BETTY'S GUESTHOUSE

2007-12-07T22:40:00.000-08:00

One good thing about being the other side of the planet is,that you can have a bit of fun with people,without fear of getting a smack of the ear from someone. This poem is a bit of fun with a couple of people who run a boarding house/Guesthouse/ B and B or whatever you may call it in your part of the world.--I don't think much of its true ,although Daggie Betty (name changed--just a little) does keep such an establishment--and her husband Roy (name not changed) does play the organ. I've known Roy for many years (about 45) but he wouldn't know me from a bar of soap--Roy was one of those sporting heros at school that everyone knew,whereas I was a Neville Nobody that hardly anyone knew. These days its easy to get known if you're a nobody,you take a gun to school ,kill a few and then everyone knows you----we didn't do that in my day. Anyway,just a bit of fun in-------

DAGGIE BETTY'S GUESTHOUSE.

It all began with a "tap,tap,tap"
as we knocked at The Guesthouse door,
on a cold,bitter English afternoon
around three-thirty or four.
"Wot yew want?" she said
as she answered in her vest
showing "Betty Loves Marc Bolan"
fadingly tatood, on her chest.

They call it "Daggie Betty's Guesthouse"
Its on the main road out to Lynn.
Where late at night,when the bed bugs bite
you can hear an awful din.
Toccata and Fugue,in D minor,
Betty accompanying with "hummmms"
Roys playing with his organ,
some Bach,with electric drums.

"We'd like a room,just for the night"
(kind of wishing we had a choice)
"that'll be a hundred quid"
she replied,in her Norfolk voice.
"I've had your sort in here before" she said
"so I'll have it in advance,
you'll eat and sleep,then bugger of
if given half a chance."

"and we don't allow no smokin,
there'll be no kids,or pets
Two minutes in the shower,
and no noisy screaming sex.
Be through the door by eleven,
or you'll find yerself locked out
Breakfast's served at seven,
so if yer late yew'll go without."

"Oh well" we thought,"after all its just a bed"
Its not like we're moving in,
we were tired cold and hungry
and patience wearing thin.
So,we paid,and settled for the night,
(barely afraid to fart)
When right at midnight,on the dot
we were woken,with a start.

"Please release me let me go,"
What the hell was that?
It was singing,thats what it was
though sounding more like a strangled cat.
"For I don't love you anymore"
bloody hell mate,it was crook!
So we crept out of our bedroom
to go,and take a look.

As we quietly ambled down the stairs
doing our best,not to intrude.
There was Roy,with his organ
and Betty,in the nude.
It really was romantic
but,its not as it suggests
it seems they do it every night
to scare away the guests.

They call it Daggie Betty's Guesthouse,
Its on the main road out to Lynn
Where late at night,when the bed bugs bite
you can hear an awful din.
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor
Betty accompanying with "hummmms"
Roys playing with his organ
Some Bach,with electric drums.

little wonder you pay in advance

THE CARER

2007-10-26T02:53:00.000-07:00

"THE CARER"
Has anyone ever calculated the gazillions of dollars,pounds or whatever may be your local currency,people who care for the ill outside of institutions save the government? The children born with illness that prevents them from living a normal life,the aged,the injured,all of those that,but for the love of a carer would be in institutions.Those that love these people unconditionaly,that tend them for years on end,with little help,be it financially or even respite just to have a week or so's rest.Little wonder we read more than often,situations where out of desparation these carers break.All the years without a life of their own,and with no recognition from those that have no idea what it is like to have that kind of life. Neither do I. I have no idea what it would be like.The other day in my local town of Windsor (NSW Australia) I saw a grown man crying on the shoulder of another,older man. It could have been his dad,but I think it may have been his carer,as there were a few such souls in the street that day,I think it may have been some kind of excursion for them. I watched how this man consoled the crying man,I watched around at others,helping adult children eat,walk--------these people are the salt of the earth. These carers, and parents that give up their lives for the ones they love.

"THE CARER"

"Mummy,Mummy,I'm frightened Mummy."
"Shhhh," she said,"there, there"
As she gently stroked his head
and wiped away a tear.
"Just one more sleep,it's your birthday."
"Will I be Mummy's great big boy?"
"yes,you are,"she said,"you are,
and your Mummy's pride and joy."

And he drifted to a restless sleep.
She grabbed that small release,
It had been a long and weary day
with little,if any peace.
Sitting by his bed,in quiet reflection.
Fifty years,they'd hardly flown,
since he was born,she'd been left to care
for Michael all alone.

"Who will watch him when I've gone?
Will anybody care?
Who will hold him when he cries
or when he wakes and shakes with fear ?
Who will wash and feed him
and tuck him in his bed?
Who will sing him lullabies,
when his mothers dead?"

She was tired,and she was lonely,
she would scream,but who would hear?
Without the help she needed
couldn't face another year.
Michael,shifted in his sleep.
She watched,and wished again
that she had the nerve to do what would
take away their fear and pain.

"Open wide for Mummy
,here comes an airoplane.
There's one for you,and one for me,
and,here comes the plane again."
When the bottle lay there empty,
she climed up on his bed,
put his head on her shoulder
as she gently whispered said.

"You're my angel,you're my sunshine,
you're the reason that I breathe,
I just couldn't go without you
so,together we shall leave.
"Shhh," she said "Its over"
as she gently,stroked his face.
then,they drifted off together,
to a much more caring place.

for Stanley and his Mum

AN INVITATION TO A PARTY

2007-10-16T02:26:00.000-07:00

Global warming--Climate Change--the ozone layer,farting cows and fumes from cars have all been worrying me of late. Everyone is telling we are doomed,and it must be true because Al Gore got a Nobel Prize for it being so (even if on the same day a judge in England declared half of his movie was based on crap.) I choose to ignore the whole thing--when they decide the end is near I'm going to throw a great big party and you are all invited.

You're Invited to a party

(refrain)
We are burning,we are burning
Climate change and Global warming
What can we do,what can we do?

"What ?--I'll tell you what to do

Just stick your head between your legs
and kiss your arse goodbye.
we're all bound for oblivion
no time for hue and cry.
We'll go out with a party
get pissed,put on a show.
The World is stuffed,its had enough
Cause Al Gore told me so.

Its the farting cows that did it,
they've buggered up the world.
gone and eaten all the ozone
and all hell has been unfurled.
With the water levels rising
all the trees are falling down.
Polar bears are skating on thin ice,
and we all are going to drown.

So,stick your head between your legs
and kiss your arse goodbye.
The Sun is getting hotter
and we all are going to fry.
But,we're putting on a party
getting "pished" as well you know,
Its right,its on the news at night
plus,Al Gore told me so.

Don't drive your car,or take a plane
It will help to stop disease.
But,you can do anything you want
if you plant a thousand trees.
So,its don't do this,and don't do that
AAAGGGGHHHHH I've had e-bloody-nough
Cause I'm sure this pain,called climate change
is one big bloody bluff.

So,lets stick our legs,over our heads
and kiss our arse goodbye.
We're all bound for oblivion,
Its slow fry,then we die.
Yep,we're having this big party
kick our legs up as we go.
It must be true,I'm telling you
Cause Al Gore told me so.

Yes it must be true,I'm telling you
Cause Al Gore told me so.

(refrain)
We are burning,we are burning
Climate Change and Global Warming
What can we do,what can we do ?
"Hic-Hic--zzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZ"

THE BLACK DOG

2007-05-25T02:29:00.000-07:00

Depression is something many of us suffer at times,I have,Julie has,and at the moment some others,very close to us are too,on both sides of the world
Most of the time you don't know why the hell you feel the way you do,you just do--and the usual help from friends and relatives goes something along these lines,"You'll be O k"--or you might get "just pull yourself together"--a classic "what have you got to be depressed about?"-------fact is you don't know,you can't help it and you sure as hell would if you could.
I did get over mine pretty quick,after taking pills that had me walking around like a zombie for a couple of weeks,I did manage to summon the strength to manage myself,and get myself into a position where I was able to help myself.
In Australia we have The Black Dog Institute (do a google search any of you that feel they can help you) a society that are a great help to anyone suffering depression and other such ailments--------------

THE BLACK DOG.

THEY CREPT INTO MY MIND
LIKE I JUST WASN'T THERE.
NO INVITE,OR PERMIT I GIVE,
BUT THEY CLOSED ALL THE BLINDS
AND DARKENED THE WALLS,
THEY INVADED,MY WORLD WHERE I LIVE.

WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?
THESE DOGS THAT HAUNT ME
THAT HOWL,--IN A SILENT DIN.
AS THEY SLAM ALL MY DOORS,
SCRATCH MY MIND WITH THEIR PAWS
AND SCRAMBLE MY FEELINGS WITHIN.

NOT A FLICKER OF SUN
IN MY LIFE THAT IS SPUN
AROUND DARKNESS,WITH NO LIGHT ABOVE
BUT IS COVERED BY SHROUDS
OF DARKENING CLOUDS
AND BLIND,TO ANOTHER ONES LOVE.

ANSWERS,JUST LEAD TO MORE QUESTIONS,
CAN I FIND THE STRENGTH
AND THE NEED
TO REACH OUT, AND TO FIGHT,
CAN I SUMMON THE MIGHT,
RID MYSELF OF THE DOG,AND BE FREED?

IS THERE LIGHT
AT THE END OF MY TUNNEL?
OR GOLD,AT MY RAINBOWS END?
IS THERE PEACE TO BE FOUND
FROM THIS FESTERING HOUND?
CAN THE DOG,ONCE AGAIN BE MY FRIEND?

STAY WITH ME
LETS FIGHT THROUGH MY BATTLE
FOR TO LEAVE ME,WOULD JUST MAKE THINGS WORSE
PLEASE HELP,IF YOU CAN
UNCOVER THE MAN
IN THE GRIPS OF THE DOG,AND ITS CURSE.

I DONT WANT A BIGGER PENIS (just who told you I did?)

2007-03-02T01:02:00.000-08:00

Spam.-----I'd never heard of it.Well,I had but as all over 50's will tell you,the Spam we knew came in a can and went really well with H P Sauce.But now,now that I've become a techno new age guy,I have a new use for the word--that is,crap emails--stuff that used to be hanging out of your letterbox when you came home (and still does) now jumps out at you from your "inbox".Where do these people get the idea that you need such things.I've had thirty different people this week tell me they can make my Willie bigger,twenty approved home loans,I've won fifty lotteries,been left thirtyseven fortunes by long lost uncles in Botswana,and had umpteen Russian Babes tell me that "they want for to make love with me" Brilliant,but where does all this come from? Turn on you computer in the morning "You have 28 new messages"---I sure do,27 of mixed above mentioned, and one from someone else that has heard I'm very obese and that they can assure me I can lose 25 lbs in a week---sure I can,if I have my left arm amputated--I give you

I DON'T WANT A BIGGER PENIS (just who told you I did ?)

I DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS STUFF CALLED SPAM,
BECAUSE,I'M NO COMPUTER GEEK.
"YOUR HOUSING LOAN ,HAS BEEN APPROVED"
GREAT,THATS THE FIFTEENTH ONE THIS WEEK.
"MR SMYTHE HAS DIED IN BOTSWANA
AND,HE'S LEFT YOU ALL HE'S WORTH.
I WILL SEND IT ALL ON TO YOU,
IF YOU SEND ME,FIVE HUNDRED FIRST"
WELL,THAT SOUNDS LIKE A BARGAIN,
"THANK YOU,YOU ARE VERY KIND,AND
I'LL REMEMBER YOUR FINE OFFER,
SHOULD,I EVER LOSE MY MIND."

"HOORAY,HOORAY"----I'VE WON THE LOTTO,
SO,THE BOSS CAN GO AND STICK IT.
I'VE JUST RECIEVED AN EMAIL,SAID
"YOU'VE GOT THE WINNING TICKET."
I'M RICH,I'M RICH,I'M RICH AT LAST
(AS I ERUPT,INTO HYSTERIA)
HANG ON---------WAIT A MINUTE,
I'VE NEVER BEEN TO NIGERIA.

"HELLO,NAME IS ME NATALIA,
AND AM FOR LOVE ME WITH YOU,
ME LIVE ALL LONG WAY,FROM RUSSIA
AND WANT ME FOR LOVE YOU TOO"
"WHAT!!!!!"
"HELLO,NAME IS ME NATALIA,
AND AM FOR LOVE ME WITH YOU,
ME LIVE ALL ONG WAY,FROM RUSSIA
AND WANT ME FOR LOVE YOU TOO"
THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THE EMAIL SAID.
AND,ALTHOUGH SHE SOUNDED SWEET
"SORRY NATALIA,I'M A MARRIED MAN"
TYPE--ENTER--SEND---DELETE.

NO,I DON'T WANT TO BUY VIAGRA,
TO LAST LONGER FROM THE START.
WE LIKE TO GET IT OVER QUICK,
PLUS---I'VE GOT A DICKIE HEART.
"GROW THREE MORE INCHES QUICKLY,
GIVE YOUR WIFE MUCH MORE DELIGHT,
POP THESE PILLS,THEN GO TO BED
HEY PRESTO--IT'LL HAPPEN OVERNIGHT."
I DON'T WANT A BIGGER PENIS,AND
JUST WHO TOLD YOU I DID?
I'M HAPPY WITH THE ONE I'VE GOT
AND WOULDN'T SWAP FOR QUIDS.

MY PURRR-FECT FRIEND (a poem for Clancy)

2007-02-14T21:31:00.000-08:00

You know what? I feel really ripped off.For about fifty years now,I've had no real love affair-with an animal (except for a rather attractive sheep I once met whilst on holiday in Wales-or was it New Zealand ?) Sure I have dogs,cats and birds and all that---but not since I was five or six can I say I've really loved an animal.
We had lots of rabbits when I was a lad--and I used to rush home from school each day and sit in the rabbit pen with them all.There was this special blue rabbit,it was different to all the rest--and I loved that rabbit.Every day my rabbit (I can't remember if it had a name)would come up and eat from my hands--I'd push all the other rabbits away,and just spend time with my blue rabbit. One day I came home and went to the run--and my rabbit wasn't there,come to think of it,not many of the other rabbits were there either. Dad was very sad that my rabbit wasn't there--infact so sad,that he gave me "Big Ben" who was the biggest rabbit he had.
I Didn't find out till some time later that dad was infact the breeder of rabbits for the local butchers.Well,at the age of five or six, parents tend not to tell you those things don't they? So my pet blue rabbit ended up on some buggers plate with sage and onion stuffing up its backside.I never got over it.(children,if your dad happens to be the local rabbit breeder for butchers,and you fall in love with one of his rabbits,for goodness sake,tell him)
Dad died when I was about twelve,and in early married life,we lost two babies-so the loss of a pet,after losing family--didn't ever seem that big to me.I love animals,I'd never see them hurt--but seeing people so sad and upset at the loss of one,is something I've not been able to relate to.
We have an old dog Bess,a mongrel-that must be anything between 15 and 18 years of age.She will not die.We have a younger dog LuLu that certainly will die very shortly if she keeps digging my lawn up.
A internet friend of mine,Clancy,had his cat Tony (no relation) die this past week.I feel for Clancy as I feel for all who lose something dear to them.I write this poem for Clancy,trying very hard to put myself in the position of having such a loss.

MY PURRR-FECT FRIEND

YOUR DISH,IT STILL SITS BY THE DOOR,
AND,YOUR BLANKET LIES OVER THE CHAIR.
IT SEEMS SO STRANGE AFTER ALL THESE YEARS
TO WAKE,AND YOU'RE NOT THERE.
SEVENTEEN YEARS IS A LONG,LONG TIME,
SO MY TEARS,I WON'T DEFEND.
AS I CRY,MY HEART IS BROKEN
FOR YOU,WERE MY PURRR-FECT FRIEND.

"THERE YOU GO BOY,
SHHHH,YOU'RE FREE AT LAST.
NO MORE PAIN AND NEEDLES
ALL THOSE,ARE IN THE PAST.
THERE YOU ARE,IN PUSSY HEAVEN,
NOW AS AN ANGEL YOU ASCEND,
BUT TONY,IN YOUR TIME ON EARTH
YOU WERE,MY PURRR-FECT FRIEND."

IN MY MEMORIES OF YOU,AS A KITTEN
I GOT CRANKY,I MUST CONFESS.
WHEN AT TIMES, I'D COME HOME
TO FIND A SMELLY MESS.
BUT THE YEARS,THEY FLEW,YOU GREW OLD TOO FAST
NOW,AS A STAR I SEE YOU GLITTER.
AND THINK OF YOU,WHEN YOU NEED TO GO
IN CLOUDS,OF KITTY-LITTER.

AND,I GUESS YOU FOUND ME SPECIAL TOO,
AS YOU SPENT YOUR LIFE ,WITH MINE
KNOWING I COULD GIVE BUT ONE
WHEN YOU GAVE ME ALL NINE.
SO THANKYOU FOR "THE GIFT OF YEARS"
AND OF THE LOVE I COULD DEPEND.
ALWAYS,YOU WERE THERE FOR ME,
FOR YOU WERE,MY PURRR-FECT FRIEND.

THERE WILL ALWAYS BE A PLACE FOR YOU
LAPPING AT MY HEART.
A FUR-BALL IN MY MEMORY
THAT NEVER WILL DEPART.
SO,ITS WITH CRYING EYES,AND SAD GOODBYE'S
FOR MY HEART,I NOW MUST MEND.
BUT,I'VE LOVED YOU,AND I'LL MISS YOU,
FOR YOU WERE,MY PURRR-FECT FRIEND.

HAWKESBURY HEARTBREAK

2007-02-08T01:15:00.000-08:00

To those of you who don't really know me,or the area in which I live.I live in an area of New South Wales, Australia,called The Hawkesbury--we're at the foot of The Blue Mountains on The Nepean/Hawkesbury river.My area has some of the richest fertile soil in Australia,mainly because it is an area that is regularly flooded.Upstream of our river is the mighty Warragamba Dam that provides Sydney with the bulk of its water.As I said it floods regularly--floods have been measured at the bridge in my town of Windsor for many many years.and looking back over the records today--I discovered that the longest it had ever gone without a flood was 1904-1916--or 12 years.That was until now--our last flood was in 1992.I remember it well,I was one of the last people allowed over the river to go home,before the bridge was closed for days-keeping people trapped one side or the other from their homes or work.
The Warragamba Dam was full to overflow. Crops in the area below the Dam were ruined,stock lost--lives lost too--I remember all to well a local farmer losing his wife as she tried to rescue horses from the flood.Obviously too,after the flood many were out of work as farms were flooded and ruined. It was a Hawkesbury Heartbreak.At the moment our dam is just over 30% full,we have water restrictions.Not allowed to wash cars--we can water our gardens a couple of hours just two days a week--and not with a sprinkler--we have to stand there with the hose--but it hasn't always been like this as I reminisce with Hawkesbury Heartbreak.

HAWKESBURY HEARTBREAK

ITS RAINING IN THE MOUNTAINS
AND THE DAMS FULL TO ITS BRIM.
THERE'S AUTOMATIC OVERFLOW
AND ALL BELOW CAN SWIM.
ITS TWO O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING
FARMERS WOKEN WITH THE NEWS.
THE BRIDGE IS OVER,BANKS ARE BROKE,
WATER,OVER LAND, AND PRODUCE SPEWS.
THE RAGING TORRENT SURGES ON,
TAKING ALL BEFORE,
THERE'S PANIC IN THE HAWKESBURY
STACKING SANDBAGS AT OUR DOORS.

A FARMER ROUNDS HIS HORSES UP,
WHILE HIS WIFE IS SWEPT AWAY.
ALL THIS BEFORE THE DAWNING
OF A FLOOD FORSAKEN DAY.
AND WHEN,DOES COME THE MORNING
THE TORMENT,THE HEARTACHE,
TO FIND WHERE WAS YOUR FARM,YOUR HOUSE
THERE'S NOTHING,BUT A LAKE.
NO WAY OF CROSSING BACK AGAIN
FOR,THERE IS NO BRIDGE AROUND.
FOR DAYS ON END WE'RE SPLIT APART
AS WE SEEK THE HIGHER GROUND.

PEOPLE STRANDED FROM THEIR WORK,
AND CHILDREN,GO WITHOUT.
A CRY GOES OUT FOR GOVERNMENT HELP
SEEMS LIKE THERE'S NONE OF IT ABOUT.
AND WHEN THE WATER TRICKLES OFF,
LEAVING SILT,AND MUD SOAKED LAND.
WHATS LEFT FOR SOME POOR FOLK TO DO,
BUT TO HOLD OUT A TREMBLING HAND.
AS A MAN STANDS AT THE BANK IN TEARS,
SAYING HIS LOAN CANNOT BE PAID.
CAN'T EVEN FEED HIS WIFE AND KIDS
BY THE MESS THIS FLOOD HAS MADE.

THE FARMER WALKS,WHATS LEFT OF IT
HEAD HELD IN HIS HAND.
LIKE A MAN WHO WAS A MIGHTY KING
NOW,CRESTFALLEN FROM HIS LAND.
IN HIS HANDS LIE THE FATE OF MEN
WHO FOR YEARS TOGETHER TOILED.
HOW MANY WILL HE LAY OFF NOW
THAT HIS LANDS BEEN SPOILED.
JOBS GONE,BY THE DOZENS
HE MEANS HIS MEN NO HARM.
BUT WHATS A MAN SUPPOSED TO DO
WHEN THERE'S NO WORK ON THE FARM?

ANOTHER HAWKESBURY HEARTBREAK,
IT'S HAPPENED THROUGHT THE YEARS,
AND EACH TIME AFTER,UP THEY GET
THEN ?-- WORK AWAY THEIR FEARS.

THAT CHICS GOT HAIRY LEGS(a cheerleaders love song)

2007-01-31T21:56:00.000-08:00

What ever next? Parramatta have now got blokes in their cheerleader squad.Fair dinkum, what's a bloke wants to skip around in lycra waving pom-poms around for?I must say from the outset,that I don't believe in cheerleaders in the first place--how you can relate scoring a goal,a try or a basket (depending on the sport) to girls skipping around with next to no clothes on I don't know---But now after all these years of attractive girls doing it--to throw blokes into the mix,well I don't really know what the world is coming to.I blame the bloody yanks--we didn't have cheergirls years ago--Manchester United have done very well thankyou without having naked woman jumping around--we worry about footballers taking advantage of women--and then we dangle them half naked in front of them--but as if to confuse us now--BLOKES--give me a break.

THAT CHICS GOT HAIRY LEGS (a cheerleaders love song)

CAN YOU FEEL THE SEASON COMING?
CAN YOU SMELL IT IN THE AIR?
WE'VE BEEN COUNTING DOWN THE MONTHS,THE DAYS
YIPEEE-----ITS NEARLY HERE.
THE COACHING STAFF ARE READY.
AND ALL THE PLAYERS LOOKING SLEEK.
CHEERGIRLS DUST YOUR POM-POMS OFF
AND GIVE US ALL A PEEK.

THAT ONES LOOKING GOOD THIS YEAR,
ITS NICE TO SEE HER BACK.
THAT OTHER ONE IS NEW,I THINK
BUT SHE SEEMS TO HAVE THE KNACK.
OH!I LIKE THE ONE WHO'S NEXT TO HER,
NICE BUM AND SHAPELY PEGS.
HANG ON,WAIT A MINUTE
"THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LEGS"
CH
OH THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LEGS,I SAID
THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LEGS.
I THOUGHT SHE WAS THE BEST THERE WAS,
BUT THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LEGS.

WAVE YOUR TASSLES IN THE AIR
AND SHAKE YOUR BUTT ABOUT.
"PARRA--PARRA--PARRA"
COME ON GIRLS,LETS HEAR YOU SHOUT.
THAT BIRD IN THE MIDDLE,SHE STILL LOOKS GOOD,
SEE THE WAY SHE SWINGS HER HIPS?
I THINK I'VE FALLEN IN LOVE AGAIN,
OH NO! THE CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LIPS!
CH
OH THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LIPS,I SAID
THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LIPS.
I THOUGHT I WAS IN LOVE AGAIN
BUT THAT CHIC'S GOT HAIRY LIPS.

POM-POMS IN AND POM-POMS OUT.
RIGHT NOW,ANOTHER WRIGGLE.
"TRY-TRY-TRY" LETS HEAR YOU CRY,
THEN, GIVE A LITTLE GIGGLE.
WITH HAIRY LEGS,AND HAIRY LIPS,
I STILL SAY SHE'S THE BEST.
"COME ON BABY,TURN AROUND"
OH NO! THE POOR GIRLS GOT NO CHEST.
CH
OH THAT POOR GIRLS GOT NO CHEST,I SAID
THAT POOR GIRLS GOT NO CHEST.
I THOUGHT SHE WAS THE BEST I SAID,
BUT THE POOR GIRLS GOT NO CHEST.

BUT I LOVE MY HAIRY CHEERGIRL STILL,
SHE CAN'T HELP THE WAY SHE IS.
AND I'D DO ANYTHING I COULD
TO MEET MY SPECIAL MISS.
"TELL ME GIRLS WHATS HER NAME?
WOULD YOU PLEASE INTRODUCE?"
"CERTAINLY" THE GIRLS ALL REPLIED
"WE'D LIKE YOU TO MEET BRUCE."

"WHAT/"

"WE SAID WE'D LIKE YOU TO MEET BRUCE"

CH
WELL,ITS A STRANGE OLD WORLD WE LIVE IN,
AND I FEEL A LITTLE QUEER.
BUT I'D NEVER SEEN A BLOKE BEFORE
WAVE POM-POMS,IN THE AIR

INNACURE INJACKULATION

2007-01-31T00:13:00.000-08:00

Isn' it incredible the stuff they advertise on radio these days?You can be riding along in your car and on will come an ad for any kind of cure, or preventative measure for any of natures little cruelties.Advice ?--All the advice for this and that--check your breasts,check your nuts,get your best friend, the doctor, to stick his finger up your bum and check your prostate. Take a sample of your stool to the chemist and they can not only tell you what you ate three days before,but they'll diagnose all sorts of things.
Kids want to know the whole lot too--"whats that mean Dad?" "whats that for Mum ?"--and honestly at times we don't know what to say or where to hide.

INNACURE INJACKULATION

"GOOD MORNING AND WELCOME TO RADIO 2 WEE 2 WOO,
YES FOLKS WE'RE ON THE AIR
AND THE SHOW TODAY IS BROUGHT TO YOU
BY ADULT HEALTH,AND MEDICARE.
LADIES,HAVE YOU CHECKED YOUR BREASTS FOR LUMPS?
AND GENTLEMEN-YOUR PROSTATE?
INFACT,CHECK YOURSELF ALL OVER
BEFORE IT'S ALL TOO LATE.
DO YOU SUFFER FROM PREMATURE EJACULATION
WITH MUM IN THE BEDROOM?
DO YOU LEAVE HER THERE,UP IN THE AIR,
WHEN IT'S OVER ALL TOO SOON?"

"WHAT'S THAT MEAN DAD?"
HE ASKED,WHILST DRIVING TO THE SHOP.
"WHAT'S WHAT MEAN SON?"SAID I
FOR HE'D CAUGHT ME ON THE HOP.
"THAT MAN,WHAT THAT MAN SAID DAD,
THERE,ON THE RADIO STATION.
HE WAS TALKING,AND ASKED IF YOU HAD
INNACURE INJACKULATION."

"OH NO" I THOUGHT,I SHOULDN'T HAVE ASKED,
BUT,I'D THOUGHT IT ALL TOO LATE,
I KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT,
EVEN THOUGH HE'S ONLY EIGHT.
SO,I DID WHAT ANY CARING DAD WOULD DO,
WITH NO ROCK TO CLIMB BENEATH.
I EXPLAINED IN EVERY DETAIL-
BY LYING THROUGH ME TEETH.

"INNACURE INJACKULATION,SON,
IS ALL ABOUT THE CAR.
AND IF YOU SOON DON'T GET IT FIXED
YOU CAN'T DRIVE VERY FAR.
IT'LL MAKE THE ENGINE SHAKE AND RATTLE
THEN GIVE A COUGH AND SPURT.
THE RADIATOR WILL OVERHEAT
AND GIVE A MIGHTY SQUIRT."

"WELL THATS ODD DAD" HE INTERUPTS
"OH NO!,OH NO!" I THOUGHT,
THINKING THAT I'D PUT AN END TO IT,
BUT NOW IT SEEMS I'M CAUGHT.
"THAT MAN SAID,IN THE BEDROOM DAD,
SO TELL ME DAD,HOW COME
YOU GOT THE CAR INTO THE HOUSE
AND,WHAT'S IT GOT TO DO WITH MUM?"

THIS HOLE WAS GETTING DEEPER,
AND MY FACE WAS GOING RED,
JUST HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN TO A KID
WHAT'S GOING ON IN BED.
"I TELL YOU SON,I DON'T KNOW,
BUT AS ONE MAN TO ANOTHER,
JUST AS SOON AS WE GET HOME
-----GO AND ASK YOUR MOTHER."

I'D LOVE A PIE WITH MUSHY PEAS

2007-01-25T04:18:00.000-08:00

I NEVER USED TO HAVE A WEIGHT PROBLEM--I WAS ALWAYS A HEALTHY LOOKING SPECIMAN.I COULD EAT WHAT I WANTED AND AS MUCH OF IT AS I WANTED.THEN SOMETHING WENT VERY WRONG,INSTEAD OF PASSING IT ALL OUT OF MY BODY IN THE USUAL MANNER,IT ALL DECIDED TO STAY WITHIN ME, AND HANG OVER MY BELT.AT MUCH THE SAME TIME HAIR STOPPED GROWING ON MY HEAD AND STARTED SHOOTING OUT OF MY NOSE AND EARS--MY BELLY BEGAN TO OBSTRUCT THE VIEW OF MY PRIVATE PARTS UNLESS I LAY FLAT ON MY BACK.SOMETHING HAD TO GIVE-I WENT TO THE DOCTOR--TYPE TWO DIABETES,OVERWEIGHT,HIGH CHOLESTEROL AND A HEART THAT LIKES TO BEAT WHEN IT WANTS TO RATHER THAN WHEN IT SHOULD.OTHER THAN THAT I WAS FINE.THE OBVIOUS, WAS THE PROGNOSIS--A DIET WAS REQUIRED--WHICH I EMBARKED UPON-------BUT,

I'D LOVE A PIE,WITH MUSHY PEAS

I'D LOVE A PIE,WITH MUSHY PEAS,
OR ROAST BEEF WITH YORKSHIRE PUD.
FOLLOWED ON,BY SPOTTED DICK
AND CUSTARD IF I COULD.
PERHAPS A COLD SCOTCH EGG,WITH H.P SAUCE
AND,A PLATE OF FISH'N'CHIPS.
THE FOOD I'VE EATEN ALL MY LIFE,
SEE? ITS HANGING OFF ME HIPS.

"YOU'LL HAVE TO LOSE A STONE" HE SAID,
THE DOCTOR,"TUT,TUT,TUT,
YOU'LL GIVE YORSELF A HEART ATTACK
CARRYING AROUND THAT ARSE AND GUT."
WELL,HE COULD HAVE PUT IT NICER,I THOUGHT,
BUT I GUESS HE TELLS THE TRUTH.
I'M OVERWEIGHT,MY SUGARS HIGH
AND CHOLESTEROL'S THROUGH THE ROOF.

"SO WHATS THE ANSWER DOC?"
I ASK,IN A VOICE SOMEWHAT QUIET,
"WE'LL HAVE TO CUT THE RUBBISH OUT,
AND,YOU'RE GOING ON A DIET.
YOU'LL NEED TO RUN TEN MILES A DAY,
TAKE A PILL FOR THIS AND THAT
IF THAT DON'T WORK,WE'LL STICK IN A TUBE
AND SUCK OUT ALL THE FAT."

NOW ITS CARDBOARD FLAKES FOR BREAKFAST,
THERE'LL BE LETTUCE LEAVES FOR LUNCH.
APPLES IN THE AFTERNOON
AND SPINACH BY THE BUNCH
PRUNE JUICE GIVES ME DIARRHOEA,
NOW,THATS NOT GOOD FOR THE HEART.
I'M SICK OF BLOODY LEGUMES
ALL THEY DO IS MAKE ME FART.

AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M BLOODY MISERABLE,
EATING ALL THIS HEALTHY SHITE,
WHATS A LIFE WITH NO CHIPS OR CHOCOLATE?
TELL ME,IT CAN'T BE RIGHT.
BUT THE DOCTOR SAYS I'M DOING FINE.
FRIENDS SAY I'M LOOKING GREAT,
"SVELT AND HANDSOME" THATS WHAT THEY SAID
SINCE I DROPPED A BIT OF WEIGHT.

BUT,I'D LOVE A PIE,WITH MUSHY PEAS,
OR ROAST BEEF AND YORKSHIRE PUD.
FOLLOWED ON BY SPOTTED DICK
AND CUSTARD IF I COULD.
PERHAPS A COLD SCOTCH EGG,WITH H.P SAUCE
AND A PLATE OF FISH AND CHIPS,
THE FOOD I'VE EATEN ALL MY LIFE,
NO LONGER PASS MY LIPS------------AND,I JUST WANT TO DIE.

I WAS GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE

2007-01-23T23:24:00.000-08:00

About 42 years ago,just after I started at The Queens School For Boys in Wisbech (UK)I was stumbled upon by two of my teachers,Mr Derek Tuckwood and Mr John Raincock-they discovered my talent for writing verse--Poetry has been with me ever since.
Derek Tuckwood (who for some reason called it poy-etry-something I've heard from not another person since) convinced me at the tender age of 12 that I was brilliant and for some reason for the next few years had me cramming the school magazine with my crap.John Raincock my religious instruction teacher also formed the opinion that I was the worlds next Wordsworth,even though I didn't know or care who he(Wordsworth) was.Anyway,it was these two wise men that convinced me,and indeed sent me on the errand of saving the world.For forty plus years that's what I've done--if I've seen an injustice in the world--I've written a silly verse about it,pestered everyone with it,totally convinced that once everyone had read it the problem would be solved.
Bollocks--nobody took any notice-I've been writing and versing myself silly for all those years--and its made no difference at all.There were wars,starving,dying,sick,poor,thieves,murders,injustice and all these bloody things when I started---AND THE BLOODY LOT ARE STILL THERE---I've made no difference at all.Hence the lack of poetic wonderment from me for the past six months.I'm fed up.I'm fed up with not being listened to.So,I had to take a rest.I had to cool off------------and now--I'm back.

"I WAS GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE"

I,WAS ONLY TWELVE WHEN I STARTED TO WRITE,
YOU SEE,I JUST DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE.
WITH ME SEEING ALL THE WRONG IN THE WORLD
IT WAS OBVIOUS,I WAS "THE VOICE"
I WAS GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE
AND SAVE ALL, FROM THEIR FATE.
ALL THEY HAD TO DO WAS LISTEN,
BUT NOW?--IT SEEMS TOO LATE.

I COULD HAVE FED THE STARVING,CLOTHED THE POOR,
AND SAVED THE WORLD FROM WARS
NO CHILD ABUSE OR HOMELESS
DRUGGIES,DRUNKS OR WHORES.
I WAS GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE,
ALL THE PROBLEMS TO ME,SEEMED PLAIN.
I WAS THE ONE,WITH ALL THE ANSWERS
THE REST OF YOU?--INSANE.

I WAS COLOURBLIND,YET,WITH PERFECT SITE
AND SAW NO BLACK AND WHITE.
YOU CAN HAVE YOUR JESUS IF YOU WANT.
BUT IF YOU DON'T,WELL? THAT'S ALLRIGHT.
I WAS SURE I COULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE,
TO OUR WORLD,BIG ENOUGH TO SHARE,
AND LET ALL,LIVE THE WAY THEY WANT TO
WITHOUT THE THREAT OF FEAR.

I WAS GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE
MORE THAN FORTY YEARS AGO
WHEN I STARTED PUTTING WORDS DOWN
TO LET THE WHOLE WORLD KNOW.
BUT I DIDN'T,NO,I DIDN'T,
SEEMS I'M THE SAME AS ALL THE REST,
ANOTHER BLOODY KNOW ALL,
THAT TRIED ,BUT FAILED THE TEST.

NO-ONE CHOSE TO LISTEN,
OR READ MY WRITTEN VERSE.
AND IF THE WORLD WAS BAD IN THOSE DAYS
TODAY,I FEAR ITS WORSE.
MY WORDS,HAVE MADE NO DIFFERENCE,
THOUGH I'VE TRIED,AND TRIED AGAIN.
BUT THE MORE I KEEP ON TRYING,
THE GREATER MY WORLD'S PAIN.

BUT,WE ALL COULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE
IF WE WANTED TO,I GUESS,
START TOGETHER IF WE CAN
AND SORT OUT THIS BLOODY MESS.
WHERE TO BEGIN,THATS THE PROBLEM
THERE'S SO MUCH TO DO,ITS TRUE
BUT,IT HAS TO ALL START SOMEWHERE,
MIGHT AS WELL BE ME AND YOU.

THE BASTARD BUSH

2006-07-21T15:30:00.000-07:00

First of all,sorry I've neglected my efforts to save The World over the past few months.What with the World Cup-the Australian football season and pretty girls waving pom-poms--I've kind of forgotten about The World.
I'm not much for swearing,I'll sometimes swear in a joke,but as a rule not in general language.If I should hit my finger when banging in a nail with a hammer I might let one go-----or if I really hate something,and want people to know just how much I hate it,I'll use one to let them know exactly what I mean.This is the reason I believe such words were invented,not as young people seem to think something to join two other words together.
I hate whats going on at the moment,and what really got my goat up this week was George W Bush using his power of veto to stop funds helping with stem cell research---he doesn't want to kill emryos,he sees it as murder.He won't use early life cells to advance help in so many illness's on this planet--but he'll authorise others, or turn a head while born children are blown to pieces by his bombs or other peoples.George Bush you are a bastard of the highest degree--and a hypocrite.

THE BASTARD BUSH

NEVER,IN ALL MY YEARS
(AND I SAY THIS WITH SOME DISGRACE)
HAVE I HAD THE URGE,TO MEET A MAN
AND SPIT,INTO HIS FACE.
HOW YOU STAND THERE,WITH YOUR STUPID LOOK,
THAT SMIRK,AND KNOW ALL SMILE.
NEVER HAS A MAN WALKED THIS EARTH
SO TWO FACED,CRUEL AND VILE.
YOU,ARE A BASTARD GEORGE W BUSH,
AND A HYPOCRITE AS WELL
NO OTHER MAN THAT STOOD THIS LAND
DESERVED MORE,TO END IN HELL.

IT SEEMS OK TO BLOW UP KIDS,
WITH MORTAR AND ROCKET SHELLS,
YET,YOU CALL IT MURDER RESEARCH
USING EARLY LIFE STEM CELLS.
YOU'RE NOT FOR THE MEN THAT SHAKE,
OR WOMEN WHO FORGET,
POOR SOULS DYING FROM CANCER,
WHO YOU COULD HELP,BUT YET
YOU HIDE BEHIND YOUR JESUS,
AND STAND BESIDE YOUR GOD,
THOUGH DESERT SO MANY PEOPLE
YOU EVIL VICIOUS SOD.

AND YOU TALK OF STEM CELL MURDER,
HOW YOU'D LIKE TO HELP THE ILL,
BUT YOU CAN'T WITHIN YOUR CONCIENCE
ANOTHER EMBRYO KILL.
I'VE SEEN IRAQ,AFGHANISTAN
NOW ISREAL AND THE LEBANON.
I'VE SEEN THE FRIGHTENED PEOPLE
AND A THOUSAND KILLED BY BOMBS.
I SEE CHILDREN MISSING ARMS AND LEGS,
A FATHER CARRYING DEAD.
I SEE MOTHERS NURSING BABIES
WITH BULLETS IN THEIR HEAD.

I KNOW,WE'RE JUST THE COMMON FOLK,
THAT DOESN'T HAVE A CLUE.
WE,ORDINARY PEOPLE
THAT DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
YOU SAY "I DON'T BELIEVE IN KILLING LIFE"
"SHUT UP" WE'VE HEARD ALL THAT BEFORE
AND THEN YOU STAND,OR LEND A HAND
IN ANOTHER BLOODY WAR.
BUT,YOUR DAY WILL COME,MR BUSH
YOUR DEATH WILL COME,ITS TRUE
AND WHEN YOU'RE REACHING OUT FOR HELP,
LISTEN MATE--------"FUCK YOU."

GOOD EVENING FROM CANBERRA STADIUM

2006-07-01T05:50:00.000-07:00

MAD TONE AKA "THE PARRAMATTA POET" ON THE PARRAMATTA FORUM,HAS BECOME A LEGEND IN HIS OWN LUNCHTIME--(IF YOU ARE SAD ENOUGH TO HAVE A LOOK DO A SEARCH parraeels AND GO TO THE FORUM.)ANYWAY,I'VE TAKEN TO PUTTING ALL MY COMMENTS AND ITEMS IN VERSE AND THEY SEEM TO LIKE IT.I THINK I MIGHT HAVE TO START A NEW BLOG FOR SPORTING TYPE POEMS--I'D STARTED THIS ONE IN AN EFFORT TO SAVE THE WORLD--BUT OF LATE THEY ALL SEEM TO BE ON SPORT.THAT MAY BE FOR THE FUTURE,ANYWAY THIS IS MY REPORT ON THE PARRAMATTA GAME THAT ENDED AN HOUR AGO PARRAMATTA V CANBERRA 1/7/06

GOOD EVENING,PARRAMATTA FANS,
FROM CANBERRA STADIUM,SATURDAY NIGHT,
TO WATCH OUR MIGHTY PARRA EELS
AGAINST THE RAIDERS FIGHT.
THE USUAL A.C.T WEATHER FOLKS,
AND I WANT YOU ALL TO KNOW IT
I'M FREEZIN ME BLEEDIN NUTS OFF,
POOR PARRAMATTA POET!

OUR LADS,WERE REALLY PUTTING IN,
WHEN EARLY IN THE GAME.
A GOOD LONG PASS FROM TIMMY SMITH
AND IN WENT JARRYD HAYNE.
CONVERSION BRETT DELANEY,
FOUR MINUTES ON,JOHNNY MORRIS DOES THE SAME,
BALL WIDE OUT,TO THE WING,
OUR JARRYD'S IN AGAIN.

WITH GOOD DEFENCE,WE KEPT THEM OUT,
AND.HALFTIME IS LOOMING NEAR,
RIGHT ON THE SIREN,WE LET ONE IN.
TEN-SIX,AND TIME FOR BEER.
AHEAD AT THE BREAK ONCE AGAIN,
WE'VE BEEN DOING IT ALL SEASON
BUT,WE'LL KONK OUT,UNFIT AND FAT
THAT SEEMS TO BE THE REASON.

SECOND HALF JUST STARTED,
BARELY TIME TO TAKE MY SEAT,
WHEN TIM,SLIPS IT TO MORRISSON
WITH JUST THE BACKS TO BEAT.
A TWIST,A TURN,A SHIMMY
AND HEAPS OF STRENGTH AND MIGHT,
HE PUTS OUR TEAM FURTHER AHEAD,
COULD THIS BE OUR NIGHT?

WE COULD HAVE SEWN IT UP FROM THERE,
WITH TWO MORE TRIES,WE SURE WOULD
BUT THAT SILLY BLOOMIN POMMIE REF,
RULED THE PASSES FORWARD.
AND,THE RAIDERS GOT ANOTHER ONE,
THAT ADDED TO THE PAIN
THEY'LL ONLY NEED TO GET ONE MORE,
OH WELL,HERE WE GO AGAIN.

BUT,WE DIDN'T,WE HUNG IN THERE
WITH DETERMINATION,RARELY SEEN,
AND PARRA,WERE THE VICTORS,
TWELVE POINTS TO EIGHTEEN.
SO FOLKS,THATS ALL FROM CANBERRA,
THE TEAM WE FINALLY BEAT.
SIGNING OFF "PARRAMATTA POET,
ARSE FROZEN,TO THE SEAT."

"THE PARRAMATTA BEER SQUAD"

2006-06-22T04:06:00.000-07:00

I'll try to make this my last sporting one for a while,though its not really sporting.its more of a social issue.We hear it the World over,may it be Wayne Rooney getting drunk in England or Tim Smith getting drunk in Sydney.These lads that as youngsters were discovered to be able to kick,or throw a ball about better than most--suddenly become role models.Why? How? The poor sods are put under a spotlight by the media and expected to behave,because youngsters look up to them.Once again How? Why? They are good at what they do,and thats all.
Some of the lads at my Parramatta club have been in trouble lately,what with girls and drinks etc.All the things that young doctors,solicitors and NEWSPAPER REPORTERS do.But we never hear of it do we? We take kids from schools,pay them a whole lot of money,with very little training on how to look after it,and themselves.Then they get a bucket dumped on them when the slip up."It didn't happen in the old day"-----Bullshit,yes it did. I give you "The Parramatta Beer Squad" obviously names such as Tim,Piggy,Hayne,The Guru,Hindy,Nate are all Parramatta players.Chook Raper was an Australian International,way back when players didn't used to get in trouble-----yeah right!.

"THE PARRAMATTA BEER SQUAD"

"WE DON'T WAVE SILLY POM-POMS,
AND WE DON'T WEAR SKIMPY SKIRTS,
WE'RE THE PARRAMATTA BEER SQUAD,
AND WE WEAR FOOTY SHIRTS."

"LINE EM UP" SAID PIGGY
TIM SAID"I'LL HAVE SOME AS WELL,
WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN TRAINING,
AH,BUT WHAT THE HELL?
WE ALL PLAYED SHOCKING LAST WEEK,
ANOTHER BLOODY LOSS,
BUT HALF THE BOYS ARE MOVING ON,
AND WE DON'T GIVE A TOSS."

BRING THE BOYS HOME HINDY,
THEY'VE BEEN ON THE GROG ALL NIGHT,
HAYNE'S BEEN BITING SHEILAS
AND NATE PUNCHED OUT THE LIGHT.
"HEY BOYS,WHERE'S THE GURU?"
THE BLUES SELECTORS SAID.
"HE'S HOME ALONE,CAN'T HEAR THE PHONE,
AND STILL IN BLOODY BED."

OF COURSE THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN,
THEY SAY,IN YEARS GONE BY.
"ALL WE DID WAS WORK AND TRAIN,
AND TRY,AND TRY,AND TRY."
BUT,I DON'T THINK IT WAS DRINKING MILK,
IT MUST HAVE BEEN MORE THAN THAT,
THAT LEFT CHOOK RAPER NAKED,
EXCEPT,THATS FOR HIS HAT.

BUT,WE DON'T WAVE SILLY POM-POMS,
AND WE DON'T WEAR FRILLY SKIRTS,
WE'RE THE PARRAMATTA BEER SQUAD,
AND WE WEAR FOOTY SHIRTS.

WHEN FUI BECOMES A LEGEND

2006-06-21T00:05:00.000-07:00

Another sporting one I'm afraid----Parramatta, my rugby league team have had a real crap year--after finishing top of the ladder last year,this year with the very same players we are playing HORRIBLE can't win a trick,our Coach was sacked pre-season,but left in charge for the season (made no sense)all the players are mucking up,getting pissed,and biting women or beating up lift lights after having a belly full of lunatic soup.The one light in the whole season ,is the form of one Fuifui Moimoi--(pronounced foo ee foo ee moi moi) I believe his origin is Tongan.A bit of a loose cannon at times---he's been suspended many times,head high tackles etc,and only this past week or so was accused,though cleared of biting --But he is playing really good,and has become a crowd pleaser.I reckon he is the foundation on which we shall build once more a GREAT Parramatta team.All teams,once a legend is born,name things after them--obviously the names mentioned,are Parramatta legends of a forgone era.Great players of which Fuifui Moimoi will become of in years to come.

WHEN FUI BECOMES A LEGEND

WHEN FUI,BECOMES "A LEGEND"
WHAT WILL WE CALL HIS PLACE?
THIS PARRAMATTA POWERHOUSE
THAT SETS THE FRONT ROWS PACE.
A MAN OF STEEL,AND GRITTED TEETH,
THOUGH,SOMETIMES MISUNDERSTOOD.
FREQUENTLY SUSPENDED.
BUT,WHEN HE'S NOT
HE'S BLOODY GOOD.

WE'VE GOT THE MICHAEL CRONIN STAND,
KEN THORNETT,HAS GOT ONE TOO.
STERLO AND KENNY HAVE THEIR HILLS,
AND,PRICEY'S LOUNGE,TO NAME A FEW.
SO,WHAT'S LEFT FOR OUR HERO?
WHAT'S LEFT TO BARE HIS NAME?
AFTER FUI LEADS US TO THE TOP
ONCE MORE,TO RULE OUR GAME.

WHAT ABOUT "THE FUI FOYER"
AS WE ENTER FROM THE STREET?
WHERE WE COULD MEET OUR FRIENDS "HEAD HI!"
YEP,THAT WOULD BE REAL NEAT.
OR,THE FUIFUI FOOD BAR
SELLING PIES AND CHIPS AND MORE,
ALL COULD DROP IN FOR A BITE
WHERE THE MEAT IS SERVED UP RAW.

ALL THE OLD GIRLS LOVE YOUNG FUI,
FROM THEIR SEATS I'VE HEARD THEM GIGGLE,
AS THEY WATCH THIS FINE YOUNG SPECIMEN
I'VE SEEN THEM SQUIRM AND WRIGGLE.
SO,I'M SURE OUR OLDER LADIES
WOULD SHOUT AND SCREAM WITH JOY.
IF HE WERE MADE PARRAMATTA,OFFICIAL
"FUIFUI TOY BOY"

OR,WHAT ABOUT THAT PRAT THAT STANDS
ON THE FIELD ,PRE-MATCH EACH GAME.
WE COULD GIVE,THAT THING HE HOLDS
OUR SPECIAL PLAYERS NAME.
I COULD SEE HIM THERE,MICK MARTIN,
AND EACH TIME WE'D HEAR A GROAN
AS HE SHOUTS THINGS,WE DON'T UNDERSTAND,
DOWN "THE MOIMOI MOICROPHONE"

A TRIBUTE TO A FUTURE LEGEND THE GREAT FUIFUI MOIMOI 22/6/06

"ALL THERE IN BLACK'N'WHITE"

2006-06-08T00:40:00.000-07:00

Wife of former Wisbech Town F C manager Roy McManus,Liz (who by the way does the best tripe and onions of any b & b in the Wisbech area)is a serial pest with emails.If you want your inbox to be full of total crap,with the odd smattering of good stuff,do what I did and get yourself on her mailing list.Anyway,the other day along with an email regarding the sexual habits bishee-barny bees (lady-birds),she suggested I should write a poem on The World Cup.So,I did.There you go Liz,I give you

ALL THERE IN BLACK'N'WHITE

LAST NIGHT,I HAD THE STRANGEST DREAM,
IT SURELY WOKE ME UP.
WHEN I DREAMPT THAT 'MOTHER ENGLAND'
HAD WON,THE WORLD CUP.
IT WAS ALL SO REAL AND VIVID,
YOU COULD SWEAR,THAT I WAS THERE.
AS I SAW THE ENGLAND CAPTAIN
RAISE THE TROPHY IN THE AIR.

IN THE GROUPS,WE'D REALLY STARTED SLOW,
FIRST WAS NIL ALL DRAW.
BUT WE SCORED TWO IN THE NEXT ONE,
AND IN THE THIRD,A COUPLE MORE.
SO,THAT HAD PUT US TOP OF GROUP,
WE,TO THE QUARTER FINALS FLEW.
IN THAT,THOUGH WE ONLY NETTED ONE,
BUT,THEY GOT NONE,WE'RE THROUGH.

TO THE SEMI FINALS OFF WE WENT
OUR JOB WAS THREE PARTS DONE.
WE SLOTTED HOME TWO GOALS THAT DAY,
OUR FOES, COULD GET BUT ONE,
THE FINAL,WE HAD MADE IT.
WE WERE READY,WE WERE PUMPED,
BUT AFTER TWELVE WE LET ONE IN
TO AN EARLY LEAD THEY'D JUMPED.

ON EIGHTEEN MINUTES,WE GOT IT BACK,
BY SEVENTY EIGHT,WE'D GONE AHEAD.
BUT RIGHT ON NINETY,THEY EQUALIZED
NINETY SEVEN THOUSAND FANS,STUNNED DEAD.
IN EXTRA TIME OUR MEN MARCHED ON,
THEY WERE TIRED,AND THEY WERE SORE.
BUT RULE BRITANIA RULED THE WAVES,
WHEN, THE HAMMER HIT TWO MORE.

WHAT?

THE HAMMER HIT TWO MORE.

AND NOBBY HELD THE CUP ON HIGH,
HE SKIPPED AS ROUND HE WENT.
THE SMILING FACE OF GEOFFREY HURST,
HIS HAT-TRICK HEAVEN SENT.
GORDON BANKS HAD KEPT THEM OUT,
RAY WILSON AND GEORGE COHEN
BOBBY MOORE,JACK CHARLTON,MARTIN PETERS
WERE STARS.THAT JUST KEPT GOIN'
ROGER HUNT,BOBBY CHARLTON,NOT FORGETTING ALAN BALL
ELEVEN HERO'S ON THAT DAY,
MADE ALF RAMSEY "KING OF ALL".

THE THIRTIETH JULY,NINETEEN SIXTY-SIX
A DATE THATS ETCHED IN STONE.
UNTIL THAT IS,SAME TIME THIS YEAR
WHEN WE BRING THE TROPHY HOME.
WELL,I SUPPOSE THIS ALL EXPLAINS ONE THING,
THE MYSTERY OF THE NIGHT.
IT EXPLAINS TO ME THE REASON,
IT WAS ALL,IN BLACK'N'WHITE

DANCE LITTLE ELLIE--DANCE

2006-06-07T00:30:00.000-07:00

This is a poem for a special girl--I won't mention who she is,she's not known as Ellie,only to those "in the know".But I do hope she will find this poem special and a extra special gift from me.

DANCE LITTLE ELLIE,DANCE.

DANCE LITTLE ELLIE,DANCE.
SEE? YOU'RE FLOATING,JUST LIKE A CLOUD.
DANCE LITTLE ELLIE DANCE,
MAKE POPPY,OH SO PROUD.
RING A RING A ROSIE,
A TEAPOT,SHORT AND STOUT.
ONE DAY,YOU'LL BE A BIG GIRL,
THATS WHAT LIFE'S ALL ABOUT.

DANCE FOR ME ELLIE,DANCE,
I'LL WATCH YOU GLIDE ACROSS THE FLOOR,
MY PRETTY,SILVER WINGED ANGEL-
"BRAVO--MORE,MORE,MORE"
DANCE FOR ME ELLIE,DANCE
YOU'RE GROWING UP AND HOW,
BEAUTIFUL AND GRACEFUL,
ALMOST A BIG GIRL NOW.

DANCE FOR ME ELLIE,DANCE,
ON POINTED TOE YOU GO.
MY PRIMA BALERINA,
THATS WHAT YOU ARE YOU KNOW?
DANCE FOR ME ELLIE,DANCE
KICK YOUR LEGS TOWARD THE SKY,
YOU KNOW ,THAT I'LL BE WATCHING
AS MY CLOUD GOES PASSING BY.

DANCE FOR ME ELLIE,DANCE.
WHY? STILL I LOOK, YOU SEE?
I'M WATCHING NOW YOU'VE GROWN UP
ALTHOUGH YOU CAN'T SEE ME.
YOU KNOW,I'LL ALWAYS BE THERE
AND I'LL FIND YOU IN LIFES CROWD.
KEEP DANCING FOR ME ELLIE,
YOU'VE MADE YOUR POPPY PROUD.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADY ASH OF LEIGH

2006-06-06T00:15:00.000-07:00

Pete,happens to be my best mate (I actually have three best male mates of which he's one)He's my wife's(Julie) cousin's husband.He's the father of three of my nieces,borderline pervert,but all round good chap.The three girls Ashleigh,Jenna and Tayla are three of the most lovely kids you'd ever meet--well mannered,loving and talented,all of which they obviously get from their mother Sue,because Pete is none of the above--as I said borderline pervert,ill mannered,drinks, swears and is a constant serial pest on the email.I've written before about Ashleigh in "Lady Ash Of Leigh".She is Pete and Sue's eldest and has just turned eighteen.The party is this week and Pete asked me to write something for her---how the hell I'm supposed to keep churning this stuff out when he has three kids all as good as eachother I don't know.As a writer I hope one of them turns out to be a real bitch--so I can write as such,but as an uncle,I want them to stay just the way they are.By the way to my English readers,a Violet Crumble is something like a Crunchie (choc covered honeycombe)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADY ASH OF LEIGH

"HEAR YE,HEAR YE,HEAR YE ,HEAR YE,
GATHER ROUND AND HARK TO ME.
AS WE CELEBRATE THE BIRTHDAY
OF LADY ASH OF LEIGH.
T'WAS EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO,
PLUS NINE MONTHS,TWO WEEKS,ONE DAY,
SINCE DADDY, JUMPED ON MUMMY
AND ASH WAS ON HER WAY.
SUCH A PRETTY BOUNCING BABY GIRL,
AS PARENTS,THEY SURE HAD LUCK
WHEN SHE WAS PULLED INTO THE WORLD
WITH AID OF FAUCEPS,ROPE AND TRUCK.

A BEAUTIFULL HEAD OF DARKENED HAIR,
BUT,(AND DON'T TAKE THIS AS A GRUMBLE)
BRUNETTE ON OUTSIDE,BLONDE WITHIN.
SO WE CALL HER "VIOLET CRUMBLE"
SHE'S NEVER GIVEN ANY TROUBLE,ASH
WITH HER SISTERS SHARING TOYS,
AND NOW SHE'S GETTING OLDER
SHE EVEN SHARES THE BOYS.
NOT THAT HE'S MUCH TO TALK ABOUT,
AND T'WOULD SEND THE SUBJECT SOUR.
DAD,BEING A LIFETIME PARRA EEL,
WHILE "THE DOPE" RUNS ON PANTHER POWER.

BUT,I'M NOT WASTING TIME ON HIM,
HE'S JUST A PENRITH PEST,
BUT,THATS ANOTHER STORY
AND IT'S ASHLEIGH WHO'S OUR GUEST.
NOW,THAT SHE HAS GROWN UP
GONE ARE DIRTY HABITS
NO MORE HIDDEN BRA'S AND PANTS,
BARBIE DOLLS OR MOLLY RABBITS.
SHE EVEN HAS A CAR YOU KNOW?
SO NOW,HER SICKO DAD,
NO TRIPS TO CHEERGIRL TRAINING.
HE MISSES OUT---TOO BAD.

SO,LADIES RAISE YOUR GLASSES,
AND FELLAS,RAISE YOUR BEERS
LETS ALL BE UPSTANDING
AND GIVE THE GIRL THREE CHEERS

"HIP HIP HOORAY,HIP HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY"

MAY ALL YOUR DAYS BE HAPPY,
AND MANY MORE TO THEE
HAPPY EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY
OUR LADY,ASH OF LEIGH

WAS IT SADDAM,OSAMA OR WHO ?

2006-05-01T00:44:00.000-07:00

This week Australia suffered its very first loss in Iraq.Private Jake Kovco died at the hands of a single bullet to his head,in his own quarters.It's a little odd,his death.They at first said it was an accident,but Jake knew guns like the back of his hands.He could take his own gun apart and put it together with his eyes shut.The powers that be then changed their minds,there is now to be a full enquiry into his death.Fact reamains --he's dead.He leaves behind a wife Shelley,and two lovely young children Tyrie and Alana.To make things totally vile,the wrong body was shipped from Iraq to Australia--so much for looking after our own.It seems the repatriation of our fallen is handled by a private company in Kuwait--how shithouse is that--fights for our country,dies,truth a mystery and on top of that ship the wrong remains to his family.I believed there was a point to this war--that point has not only dissapeared--I no longer believe half the shit I'm being fed by any of our leaders.Its time to get out---I dedicate this poem To Jake Kovco and his family.

WAS IT SADDAM,OSAMA OR WHO?

THE BAND STRUCK A CHORD,PLAYING "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN"
"WALTZING MATILDA" OR WAS IT "OLD GLORY"
LET THE DAYS ALL BE DONE,IN IRAQ'S BURNING SUN,
PUT AN END,TO THIS SICK SORRY STORY.
SHALL WE LISTEN NO MORE?THIS EXCUSE FOR A WAR.
FOR OF THE TRUTH,WE DON'T HAVE A CLUE.
DEMOCRACY,PETROL,BUSH,RUMSFELD OR BOMBS,
WAS IT SADDAM,OSAMA OR WHO?

BRING THEM HOME,TO A PLACE THAT THEY LOVE,
FROM THAT HELL HOLE THEY HAVE IN IRAQ.
FULL OF MADNESS AND MAYHEM,ANGER AND HATE,
TO A SWING,AND THEIR KIDS IN THE PARK.
TO THE WIDE OPEN ARMS OF THEIR MOTHERS
THEIR FATHERS,THEIR CHILDREN AND WIVES.
NOT WASTING THEIR BREATH,THEIR LAST BEFORE DEATH,
WHAT A WASTE OF OUR PRECIOUS KIDS' LIVES.

AS HE STOOD BRAVELY,THE BOY SHED A TEAR,
HIS MOTHER STOOD TREMBLING AT HAND.
WHEN THEY LOWERED OUR BEST,TO HIS LAST,FINAL REST
SHOT DEAD-IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND.
AND OUR LEADERS WILL TELL US,"WE'RE SORRY,
HE FOUGHT WITH VALOUR,AND HOW HE WAS BRAVE"
TO MY EAR,SOUND LIKE MOCKS,WHEN,SENT HOME IN A BOX,
TO A BROKEN HEART FAMILY,AND GRAVE.

AND THE BAND STRUCK A CHORD,WITH "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN"
"WALTZING MATILDA" OR MAYBE "OLD GLORY"
WHEREVER THEY LIVED,SO THEIR LIVES DID THEY GIVE,
IN ALL LANDS.IT'S THE SAME SORRY STORY.
LET'S LISTEN NO MORE,PUT AN END TO THIS WAR.
CAUSE WE NEVER WILL KNOW WHAT IS TRUE.
DEMOCRACY,PETROL,WAS IT RUMSFELD OR BUSH?
WAS IT SADDAM,OSAMA,OR WHO?

"MY FRIENDS MUMMY,HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY"

2006-02-28T21:40:00.000-08:00

Who wrote "There were 10 green bottles hanging on the wall?" I don't know.Who wrote "There were 10 in the bed and the little one said roll over"? I don't know that either.Who wrote "My Friends Mummy Has a very Big Tummy"?-----I DID."Mad Tone Aussie Bush Poet" or my maiden name before I married the computer- Tony Norman.I wrote the first verse of this song 21 years ago when my daughter Kelly was a baby,I wrote a second verse 13 years ago when my son Ben was a baby.We used to sing it whilst going along---Kelly even taught it to all of her little friends, and they used to sing it on the back of the school bus.As I said my youngest is over 13 now,and I got to thinking the other day,I may well get to sing this to Grandchildren--but I may not.So to make sure this song lives forever, even if only out in space riding on a megabite's tale--I had to put more words to it,finish it off and get it out there for the millions of my fans throughout the galaxy to sing to their kids and any Aliens they happen to adopt in the future.This song in the vein of 10 green Bottles and ten in the bed--goes on for a bit--but unlike 10 in the bed does have a start and an ending. Please sing it to your children to whatever tune you wish and make me live on forever in the back seats of cars whilst kids are on a long journey.
I give you "My Friends Mummy Has A Very Big Tummy"

OH MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY,
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE A BABY.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE A BABY.
SHE WENT TO THE DOCTOR
HE SAID "OH DEAR
I THINK THERE'S MORE
THAN ONE IN THERE."
MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE TWO BABIES.

OH MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE TWO BABIES.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE TWO BABIES.
SHE WENT TO THE DOCTOR,
HE SAID "MY WORD,
I THINK I'VE GONE
AND FOUND A THIRD."
MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE THREE BABIES.

OH MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE THREE BABIES.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE THREE BABIES.
SHE WENT TO THE DOCTOR
HE SAID "THERE'S MORE,
THE COUNT HAS NOW
GONE UP TO FOUR."
MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE FOUR BABIES.

OH MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE FOUR BABIES.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE FOUR BABIES.
SHE WENT TO THE DOCTOR
HE SAID "SNAKES ALIVE,
I'VE FOUND ONE MORE,
WE'RE UP TO FIVE."
MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE FIVE BABIES.

OH MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE FIVE BABIES.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE FIVE BABIES.
SHE WENT TO THE DOCTOR,
HE SAID"WE'RE IN A FIX,
SHE'S GOT SO BIG
SHE'S HAVING SIX."
MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS AVERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE SIX BABIES. (nearly there)

OH MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE SIX BABIES.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE SIX BABIES.
SHE WENT TO THE DOCTOR
HE SAID "HANG ON THEN,
I'VE FOUND MORE,
SEVEN,EIGHT,NINE,TEN."
MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAS A VERY BIG TUMMY
SHE'S GOING TO HAVE TEN BABIES. (almost----last verse,hang in there)

MY FRIENDS MUMMY
HAD A VERY BIG TUMMY
BEFORE SHE HAD TEN BABIES.
MY BEST FRIENDS MUMMY
HAD A VERY BIG TUMMY
BEFORE SHE HAD TEN BABIES.
MY FRIENDS A DOG
SHE RUNS ON ALL FOURS.
HER MUM HAD PUPPIES,
WAGGING TALES AND PAWS.
MY FRIENDS MUMMY,
IS A VERY BUSY MUMMY
NOW SHE'S GOT TEN BABIES. THE END AT LAST

PETER

2006-02-18T02:48:00.000-08:00

Peter was a boy I met a few years ago.Only a young lad,but homeless.He had a very un kept look about him,and I did something I dodn't usually do.I spoke to him.Usually I'd walk the other side of the road to avoid these kids especially these days,you never know when a knife or something even worse is going to be produced.But I got chatting to Peter,who was infact a very afraid little boy.

PETER

I SAW THIS CHILD,
A CHILD OF THE STREET.
HIS CLOTHES WERE ALL TATTERED,
NO SHOES ON HIS FEET.
HIS HAIR WAS ALL MATTED,
HE WAS DIRTY AS WELL.
NO BATH FOR WEEKS,
I COULD TELL,BY THE SMELL.
SO I ASKED HIM,"HOW COME,
ARE YOU LIKE THIS BY CHOICE?"
AND,I'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER,
THESE WORDS,AND HIS VOICE.

"MY MOTHER DON'T WANT ME,
AND DAD ? FROM AN OVERDOSE DEAD.
THE HOSTELS ARE FULL,
CAN'T GIVE ME A BED.
SO,I ROAM THE STREETS.
HIDING FROM FROM THUGS
SLEEPING WITH BOY LOVERS,
TO GET MONEY FOR DRUGS."

"BUT,I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE,
I'D RATHER BE HOME.
BUT I DON'T REALLY HAVE ONE
SO THE STREETS DO I ROAM."
I REACHED IN MY POCKET
AND FOUND A FEW QUID.
AND HANDED IT OVER,TO
MY NEW FRIEND,THE KID.

HE TOOK IT,AND THANKED ME,
WENT TO HEAD ON HIS WAY
TO THE PARK BENCH TO SLEEP
FOR THE REST OF THE DAY.
"WHERE WILL YOU GO TO NOW?"
TO THE BOY I THEN SAID.
"I REALLY DON'T KNOW"
HE UTTERED,DROPPING HIS HEAD.

WELL,A FEW YEARS HAVE PAST,
SINCE I FIRST SAW THE LAD.
AND I OFTEN THINK BACK
TO THE CHAT THAT WE HAD.
I'D REGULARLY SEE HIM
WHEN I WALK THROUGH THE SHOPS
USUALLY DRUNK,
OR IN TROUBLE WITH COPS.

BUT I HADN'T SEEN PETER,
FOR A MONTH NOW OR SO.
WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED?
WHERE DID HE GO?
HEADLINE "MAN FOUND DEAD"
WAS THE BOY,T'WHOM I'D SPOKEN.
NO CAUSE OF DEATH,BUT--
WE ALL KNOW,HEART-BROKEN.

THE ENEMA QUEEN

2006-02-05T01:57:00.000-08:00

Shocking title that---sounds like a movie that Katherine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart should have been in.I don't know how women do it,I don't know how they go to the doctor get their gear off and say "have a look at that doc".I can't do it,I'm 54 years old there are bits of me I'm sure doctors should be looking at-and I find it so difficult.My prostate, I believe is due for a service-I cannot go to a doctor and ask him to do what is required to check such bits.People tell me there are other ways of doing it these days-but I reckon they are just trying to get me in there.And you know what,it all goes back to an enema I had twenty odd years ago.How the hell some kinky buggers do that for fun I don't know."I love you darling,how about an enema" ---not for me I'm afraid-I'll stick to the chocolates and flowers and hope for the best.I give you "The Enema Queen" This is a 100% true story.

THE ENEMA QUEEN

I LOVE A GIRL IN UNIFORM
WITH ROUND AND PERT YOUNG BREASTS.
A HEM THAT STOPS ABOVE THE KNEE
BUT LEAVES TO GUESS,THE REST.
PRETTY BLONDED HAIR HELD BACK
WITH A CUTE AND UPTURNED NOSE
A LOVELY SMILE AND MANNER,AND
A LENGTH OF RUBBER HOSE.
"WHAT?"
I SAID "A LENGTH OF RUBBER HOSE."

"HELLO MR NORMAN,
AND HOW ARE WE TODAY?"
"WELL,I'M OK,HOW ARE YOU?
LOOKING GOOD I'LL SAY."
"OH DON'T BE A CHEEKY SILLY SOD,
I'M YOUNG ENOUGH TO BE YOUR DAUGHTER."
"ERE,WHATS THAT YOU'VE GOT IN YOUR HAND"
"OH!,ITS A PINT OF SOAPY WATER."
"WHAT?"
"I SAID,A PINT OF SOAPY WATER."

"WELL,WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THAT,
AND THE LENGTH OF RUBBER HOSE?
ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE MY BACK A WASH,
OR ARE YOU CHANGING MY BEDCLOTHES?"
"MR NORMAN,ITS NOT LIKE THAT,
NO WASHING CLOTHES OR BACKS,
NOW PLEASE ROLL OVER ON YOUR SIDE,
AND LET YOUR BUM RELAX."
"WHAT?"
"I SAID,LET YOUR BUM RELAX."

"DON'T MOVE AROUND,"SHE WARNED ME,
"LIE NICE AND STILL" SHE SAID.
NO MUCKING AROUND OR LAUGHING,
OR WE'LL MAKE A MESS ON BED.
WELL,I'VE NEVER KNOWN MUCH LIKE IT.
TO MY SHOCK,IT CAME TO PASS.
THAT "PERT YOUNG BREASTS" WAS AIMING
LENGTH OF HOSE RIGHT UP ME ARSE.
"WHAT?"
"I SAID,LENGTH OF HOSE RIGHT UP ME ARSE."

WELL,SHE'D NEVER SAID SHE LOVED ME.
NO SIGN OF LUST,JUST CARE.
BUT HERE WAS A COMPLETE YOUNG STRANGER,
SHOVING HOSE PIPE UP MY REAR.
WELL,BLOKE NEXTDOOR SAW FUNNY SIDE,
AND DECIDES TO JOKE AND JEST,
"MR NORMAN,PLEASE STOP MUCKING ROUND
OR YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE A MESS"
"WHAT?"
"I SAID,YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE A MESS."

I'VE NEVER KNOWN EMBARRASSMENT
LIKE I ENCOUNTERED ON THAT DAY.
BUT HERE'S HOW STORY ENDED,THEN
THATS ALL I'LL HAVE TO SAY.
YOU SEE,I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT HIT ME
IT STARTED FIRST WITH GAS.
AND THEN MY GUTS EXPLODED,AND,
I COVERED POOR YOUNG LASS.
"WHAT?"
"THATS RIGHT,I'M ASHAMED TO SAY,I COVERED POOR YOUNG LASS"

MOLLY

2006-02-03T01:40:00.000-08:00

As my life slowly unfolds in these pages,things happen that remind me of good times past.Going back 15 years or so,I worked for friends of mine,still selling grass-but they also had a tourist attraction there.My job was not only selling the grass,but sometimes doing tours through the museum and even cooking in the restaurant.Also on the estate was a Clock Museum."Haddons House of Clocks" owned and run by Max and Molly Haddon. Molly is what we'd call "A Character" She wrote poetry,she painted,she sang infact,she'd turn her hand to anything.She loved to talk,she'd talk the arse off a donkey--and very often I would be the recipient.Hours and hours,she'd knock on my office door for the loan of some milk "Max has buggered off with the car and I'm stuck here"--smoked like a chimney but often had no smokes-I smoked in those days and Molly knew it.Max was cunning,he could only take so much of Molly,that's why he worked full time.She was a lovely old bugger,as I say a pain in the arse,but a loving pain in the arse.Also in this poem is "Nick" the mechanic-well I say mechanic,I actually gave him two cars to fix that never got back on the road--he would always say he knew how to fix things -whether he could or not--very often not.
A few years ago Max and Molly moved their museum to the bush.A little country town called Ilabo.About three years ago Julie and I visited then there.Max wasn't in the best of health,and Molly was in the early stages of being "permanently bewildered".That was the last we saw of them.As I heard just last week that Max had died of a heart attack,and I hear now that Molly has been moved into a nursing home not far from where I live now--so I must pop in.Sadly the other character from this poem,Nick-is also dead.I wrote this poem in 1990.If I don't re-write it now,Molly,Max and Nick will all be lost to the dust of memory.

MOLLY

THAT BLOODY OLD WOMAN DOWN THE BACK,
SHE GETS TO BE A PAIN .
NO SOONER I GET RID OF HER
SHE'S AT THE DOOR AGAIN.
STANDS THERE WITH IT,OPEN WIDE
AND YAKS FOR HALF THE DAY.
BUT I KNOW,THAT IF I ASK HER IN
SHE'LL NEVER GO AWAY.
"FOR CHRIST SAKE MOLLY,GET IN HERE
AND SHUT THE BLOODY DOOR.
I SIT HERE FREEZING ME TITS OFF
WHAT DO YA THINK THE HEATERS FOR?"

"IS THERE ANY MAIL FOR ME TODAY?
CAN I HAVE A SLICE OF BREAD?
I CAN'T GET DOWN THE ROAD TODAY,
CAN SOMEONE GO INSTEAD?
I'VE RUN OUT OF ME CIGARETTES
AND I'VE GOT TO HAVE ONE QUICK.
AINT SEEN ME CAR SINCE LAST WEEK
ITS BEING FIXED BY NICK".
HA THATS A JOKE IN ITSELF
ME,I OUGHT TO KNOW.
THE ONLY MECHANIC IN THE WORLD
ON A PERMANENT GO SLOW.

ANYWAY,BACK TO MOLLY,
THE SUBJECT OF THIS YARN.
SHE'S THE ONE THAT WOUND UP ALL THE CLOCKS
OUT THE BACK,IN THE OLD BARN.
THREE BUCKS WILL GET YOU IN TO LOOK,
YES,THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO PAY.
BUT I TELL YOU FOLKS,I'M WARNING YOU
YOU'LL BE STUCK IN THERE ALL DAY.
SHE'LL TELL YOU THIS,AND TELL YOU THAT
JUST GO "NATTER,NATTER,NATTER"
AND FILL YOUR BRAIN,WITH ALL THE THINGS
THAT DOESN'T REALLY MATTER

BUT REAL DEEP DOWN,I GUESS YOU'D SAY,
SHE'S A LOVING SORT OF THING.
PAINTING,WRITING POETRY,
SOME SAY THAT SHE COULD SING.
I DON'T KNOW,I NEVER HEARD,
THE NOISES SHE COULD MAKE.
I WASN'T GAME TO RISK IT FOLKS
THEIR WORD YOU'LL HAVE TO TAKE.
BUT HER HUSBAND,MAX,A REAL NICE BLOKE
AND HARD WORKING BREAD-WINNER
HE'S MORE CUNNING THAN YOU THINK,
ONLY BEING THERE FOR DINNER.

GARDENS OF STONE

2006-01-30T21:35:00.000-08:00

First of all,"Gardens Of Stone" is a title I cannot take credit for.It was something I heard that I liked.I googled it, and found various writings,movies and even a band with the same name.On April 25 1915 a great Australian and New Zealand tradition and legend was born--"The Anzacs" (Australian & New Zealand Army Corp)Together with troops from other nations they invaded Turkey at Gallipoli.An invasion which to this day is very controversial.Many thousands of Australian and New Zealand troops died.Many thousands more returned to Australia crippled.Two thousand Anzacs died on the beach the first day,after the battles, 8709 Anzacs lay in "The Gardens Of Stone" never to return to our wonderful land.

THE SANDS,HOLD THE BLOOD OF OUR BROTHERS.
IN THE HILLS LIE THE BONES OF OUR SONS.
DON'T YOU EVER FORGET THAT,THE SOULS OF THE ANZAC
ARE WATCHING AT WHAT WE HAVE DONE
THEY GAVE UP THEIR WIVES,SURRENDERED THEIR LIVES
AND NEVER RETURNED TO OUR SHORES.
SURROUNDED BY DEATH,MANY GAVE THEIR LAST BREATH
TO A WAR,SUPPOSED TO END WARS.

ON THAT FATEFULL MORN,THAT "THE DIGGER" WAS BORN,
THEY WERE BATTERED AND BLASTED TO HELL.
AS THEY JUMPED FROM THEIR BOATS,WITH LUMPS IN THEIR THROATS,
TO A STORM RAINING BULLET AND SHELL.
IN THE DITCHES THEY STAYED,NIGHT AFTER DAY,
TO THEIR ARSES WERE SUNK IN THE MIRE.
THE SICKENING STENCH OF THEIR LIFE IN THE TRENCH,
JUST A SHORT STEP FROM UNFRIENDLY FIRE.

SO NEAR DID THE ENEMY BATTLE,
THEY COULD HEAR THEM, SO CLOSE AT HAND.
BETWEEN ARMY'S ABODE,WHERE NOW IS A ROAD,
IN THOSE DAYS WAS CALLED "NO MANS LAND"
WITH VALOUR THEY FOUGHT,OUR CHILDREN.
FOR THEIR ORDERS THEY NEVER WOULD SHIRK.
THOUGH THEY KNEW NOT WHAT FOR,THIS WAS FOR SURE,
THEY FOUGHT WITH HONOUR ,BOTH ANZAC AND TURK.

SO TOLL THE BELLS,IN THE DARK DARDANELLES,
AND COME APRIL,WILL RING ONCE AGAIN.
AS WE SIT BY THE SHORES,AND WONDER ONCE MORE
WERE THOSE THAT SENT THEM INSANE.
THEY DON'T LIE THERE ALONE,IN THOSE GARDENS OF STONE,
BUILT IN MEMORY OF WHAT THEY HAVE DONE.
THEY WERE LIED TO FOR SURE,WE'VE HAD WAR AFTER WAR,
AND STILL THE FINAL BATTLES NOT WON.

DON'T YOU EVER FORGET THAT,THE SOULS OF THE ANZAC
ARE WATCHING ,AT WHAT WE HAVE DONE.
THE SANDS HOLD THE BLOOD OF OUR BROTHERS,
IN THE HILLS ARE THE BONES OF OUR SONS.

MY CANVAS OF" BEING"

2006-01-28T04:53:00.000-08:00

Another one to think about,but at least in this one all get to keep their testicles,which is nice isn't it?A few weeks ago Julie and I went to a Garage Sale-not sure what my English readers call it,probably "a Garage Sale".It was a very sad garage sale-not the normal one where people are having a clear out--this was a deceased estate sale-in a very old run down house,which I should think will be knocked down when all is settled.Everything was for sale-and I mean everything,you could have ripped the doors off if you wanted them.Obviously by what was lying around a little old lady had lived there and had just passed away.
Her books were there,a few pieces of old crockery--a spoon collection,old photos,and everything was going very cheap.She had a few old chickens in a cage,an old Galah (Australian parrot)and other birds-all for sale.I walked around that place with a lump in my throat--everything that woman had loved--was being ripped apart like she had never been-----thoughts turned to what she might be thinking could she see us picking through her bones of life,her Canvas Of "Being".

MY HOUSE ON THE HILL IS STILL STANDING,
SHUTTERS CREEK,AND SO DOES THE FLOOR.
ITS EMPTY OF ALL THAT I STOOD FOR
AND,ITS JUST NOT MY HOME ANYMORE.

THEY'VE PICKED THROUGH THE BONES OF MY LIFETIME
AS IT SAT THERE IN PILES ON THE FLOOR.
MY LIFETIMES COLLECTION,MY MEMORIES,
FOR A PRICE, HAVE BEEN TAKEN WHAT'S MORE.

THE THINGS THAT I MADE,WHICH ONCE WERE MY LIFE
LAY OPEN TO ALL FOR THE SEEING.
THE THINGS THAT I TREASURED,THE THINGS THAT WERE ME
THAT PAINTED MY CANVAS OF "BEING".

THE MUSIC I'VE CHERISHED AND BOOKS THAT I'VE READ,
THE PANS FROM MY KITCHEN AND SHEETS FROM MY BED.
ALL WERE FOR SALE,EVERY TOOL, STOOL AND KNIFE
AS THEY CHIP,CHIPPED AWAY ONCE AGAIN AT MY LIFE.

ALL THE PLANTS AND POTS FROM MY GARDEN
"TAKE FOR FREE IF YOU WISH"THE SIGN SAID,
"MAKE OFFERS FOR ALL THAT YOU SEE" SAID THE NEXT.
"AND YOU'LL FIND PLENTY MORE IN THE SHED".

THE OLD BIRD IN THE CAGE SAID "HELLO COCKY"
HE'D BEEN WITH ME SINCE NOT VERY OLD.
ANOTHER SIGN SAID,JUST OVER HIS HEAD,
"THIS BIRDS NOT FOR SALE,HE'S BEEN SOLD".

BUT MY HOUSE ON THE HILL IS STILL STANDING,
THOUGH ITS JUST NOT MY HOME ANYMORE.
NO LONGER MY CANVAS OF "BEING"
NOW MY SPIRIT HAS PASSED-----I'M NO MORE.

"ANNABELLA"

2006-01-16T22:42:00.000-08:00

I'd just like to say from the start,I have no desire to have my testicles removed,and never have had.When I write I tend to write about things I know nothing about.It either works or it doesn't.I was talking to someone the other day,and they were telling me they had been having a chat with a bloke waiting to have a sex change operation.I remeber long ago around 1974 having a chat to such a person in an old boarding house I lived in--and what a tragic case he or she was.I was also talking to another friend who told me of a bloke that was married,had children,but even after all that time-left his wife and children to have such an operation and move on as a woman.
I have no problem with gay people,in the past I have been friends with gay people,and until they make it compulsory have no problem them living their lives the way they see fit.I do have a problem with faggy queenie type mincers-I think they give the gay fraternity a bad name--they are fashion queers and I can't stand them(but I have no wish to bash them)
But for those poor souls trapped in a body they don't belong in I really feel for.I can't imagine how it must be to be a woman trapped in a mans body,or a man trapped in a womans body.It would be a living hell.As it was for Annabella.

ANNABELLA,CAN'T COME OUT TODAY.
FOR NOW SHE'S LOCKED INSIDE.
SHE'D JUST LOVE,TO COME OUT AND PLAY
BUT FOR DADDY'S SAKE,SHE'LL HIDE.
DADDY DOESN'T UNDERSTAND
AND MUMMY STRUGGLES TOO.
SO ANNABELLE'S KEPT SHUT AWAY.
SEEN ONLY,BY A FEW.

ANDREW,HE'LL COME OUT TODAY,
AND THOUGH HE'S TRIED AND TRIED,
SO MANY THINGS HE WANTS TO SAY
BUT HE CAN'T BREAK DADDY'S PRIDE.
CAN'T KICK A BALL,OR HOLD A BAT,
CAN'T WRESTLE,BOX OR FIGHT.
HE MUCH PREFERS THE GENTLE THINGS.
BUT HE TRIES,WITH ALL HIS MIGHT.

ONE DAY SOON,HE'LL HAVE TO SHOW,
AND LIVE ANNABELLA'S LIFE.
HE'LL NEVER BE A FATHER,
COULD NEVER TAKE A WIFE.
"LET ME OUT,LET ME OUT"
HE HEARS ANNABELLA SCREAMING.
NO REST FOR HEAD AS HE LAYS IN BED.
NO SOLACE IN HIS DREAMING.

ANNABELLA'S COMING OUT TODAY,
ITS TIME TO KISS AND TELL.
AND THOSE WHO CAN'T ACCEPT HER?
THEY ALL,CAN GO TO HELL.
"I'VE BEEN TRAPPED INSIDE FOR LONG ENOUGH,
NOW ITS TIME TO SET ME FREE.
GOODBYE ANDREW,I'M ANNABELLE,
YES MUMMY,DAD,ITS ME.

BUT,SOCIETY JUDGES HARSHLY.
HOW HURTFULL,AND CRUEL THEY SPEAK.
ITS HARD TO BE ACCEPTED,
"YOU'RE A WIERDO,YOU'RE A FREAK".
BUT WHY? WHY CAN'T THEY UNDERSTAND?
PLEASE HELP ME,IF YOU CAN.
I'M JUST ANOTHER WOMAN,
IN THE BODY OF A MAN.

METAMORPHOSIS

2006-01-06T04:45:00.000-08:00

Ben,my thirteen year old son,has just spent the last week or so with me.I only see him a couple of times a year.I speak to him at least once a week on the phone--and have noticed over the past few months he's growing up.But it was only the other day,when his Mum rang me and suggested that I take him to see a girl,much the same age,that he has played with all his life. Well you'd think he'd been asked to do the washing up.Ben seems to be at that age where he doesn't know what to do with them,so better off do nothing--stay away from them for a while.Well Ben got out of that visit, and he helped me write this song about the event of me asking him to go and visit a 13 year old female friend of his :

METAMORPHOSIS

WELL ITS "YO BRO" SOUL AND ROCK'N'ROLL
NO MORE HAPPY MEALS FOR TEA.
GIVE ME HORROR FLICKS,MTV CHICS
AND GETTING UP LATE FOR ME.
A ROD,A BAT AND CRICKET BALL
A SKATEBOARD OR A BIKE
DROPPING FARTS AND RACING CARTS
BUT GIRLS CAN TAKE A HIKE.

CAUSE I'M TOO OLD FOR PLAYING DOLLS
AND SHE'S TOO YOUNG FOR KISSING.
THAT'LL KEEP FOR LATER ON,
BUT TILL THEN I'M GOING MISSING.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM,NOT A BOY
NOT A MAN,BUT SOMETHING IN BETWEEN.
GETTING HAIR NEATH ME BELLY,
HATE THE SHOWER BETTER SMELLY
AND TILL LUNCHTIME RARELY SEEN.
NO LONGER THE VOICE OF A CHOIR BOY
BUT THAT OF A DYING DOG.
I USED TO SING LIKE AND ANGEL
NOW I CROAK LIKE A BLOODY FROG.

YES,I'M TOO OLD FOR PLAYING DOLLS
SHE'S SURE TOO YOUNG FOR KISSING
THAT'LL KEEP FOR LATER ON
BUT TILL THEN I'M GOING FISHING.

YES ITS "YO BRO" SOUL AND ROCK'N'ROLL
NO MORE HAPPY MEALS FOR TEA.
GIVE ME HORROR FLICKS MTV CHICS
AND SLEEPING LATE FOR ME.
CAUSE I'M TOO OLD FOR PLAYING DOLLS,
AND SHE'S TOO YOUNG FOR KISSING
WE MIGHT GET IT ON,MUCH LATER ON,
TILL THEN I'M GOING MISSING,

TILL THEN I'M GOING MISSING

TILL THEN I'M GOING MISSING

HAPPY EASTMAS

2005-12-24T04:32:00.000-08:00

This is the last in my trilogy of Chrismas poems for the year--Christmas has burnt me out this year--it seems to have been around forever--no sooner its gone it will be Easter and then it will be Christmas,and then it will be Easter-oh and a birthday and then it will be Christmas------ITS NEVER BLOODY ENDING--and how apt that I should be composing this at 11.30 at night,Christmas Eve 2006.Wife gone to sleep,turkey almost cooked--and I'm ready for bed. Happy Eastmas

IT WAS SOON,JUST AFTER EASTER
THAT SANTA SNUCK ON TO THE SHELVES.
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BLOODY YEAR
WE SHOPPED,TO JINGLE BELLS.
THEY SAY,CHRISTMAS IS A HAPPY TIME
A JOYOUS ONE AS WELL.
BUT ITS NOT,NOT IN THEM BLOODY SHOPS,
IN THEM SHOPS IT BLOODY HELL.

"MUMMY,CAN I HAVE A DOLLY?"
"DADDY,CAN I HAVE A BALL?"
"IF YOU SOON DON'T STOP BLOODY NAGGING ME,
YOU'LL BE GETTING BUGGER ALL."
SO,I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF CHRISTMAS,
AND SO IT CAME TO PASS.
THE SHOPS ARE FULL OF LUNATICS,
AND YOU CAN SHOVE IT--UP YOUR ARSE.

BUT NOW,ITS CHRISTMAS EVE,
THE SHOPPINGS OVER,DONE.
IT'S TIME FOR HANGING STOCKINGS UP,
IT'S TIME FOR HAVING FUN.
THE OVENS ON,THE TURKEYS STUFFED
THE PUDDINGS MADE AS WELL
THE KIDS ARE SNUGGLED UP ASLEEP
AS FAR AS I CAN TELL.

AND SOON IT WILL BE OVER.
JUST ONE MORE SLEEP TO GO,
BUT FOR SANTA AND HIS REINDEER
THERE'LL BE NO REST YOU KNOW?
SO I GUESS I REALLY SHOULDN'T COMPLAIN,
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT ISN'T FUNNY
GO SHOPPING AFTER BOXING DAY,
THERE'S THE BLOODY EASTER BUNNY

"JUST A FLOWER IN A STORM"

2005-12-09T03:18:00.000-08:00

You know what ? I'm 54 years of age,and thought I knew everything,infact I've told both my wife and my children so.Well,this week I've learnt three things.1) when a poem goes de dah, de dah, de dah,de dah etc etc--you know when in sings--it is known as scanning,I've been writing poetry for 44 years now,how did I miss that one.2) New cars these days have 4 good tyres,and one shitty one that you only put on while you get the proper one fixed--and then when you get the proper one fixed you change your tyre again--what wanker came up with that idea ?and 3) The Forget-Me Not flower is the poets "symbol of consistancy"--bet you didn't know that did you?--liar! I would like to dedicate this poem to a person who has become a dear friend of mine in Cyber Space-- Richard Of the Meek variety,an eclectic sort of person who haunts--sorry--hails from the leafy glades of Fakenham in Norfolk----he tells me I should write of proper things--like "What does it feel like to be a forget-me -not in a storm"--so I did.

JUST A FLOWER IN A STORM

I,AM A FORGET-ME -NOT
OF THE MYOSOTIS GENUS.
SOMETIMES KNOWN A SCORPION GRASS,
TO THOSE OF YOU WHO'VE SEEN US.
I'M OFTEN SEEN ON RIVER BANKS
AROUND BROOKES AND PONDS AND LAKES
"THE POETS SYMBOL OF CONSISTANCY"
THOUGH WHY,FOR GOODNESS SAKE?

YOU MAY WONDER WHY I'M NAMED SO,
AS WELL I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT,
SO,I'LL TELL YOU HOW THE STORY WENT
OF A BRAVE AND GALLANT KNIGHT.
IT WAS COLD AND WINDY ON THIS DAY,
WHEN LOVERS CAME TO REST.
WHEN SHE SAW ME ON THE RIVERS EDGE
AND PUT HIM TO THE TEST.

"OH,I LOVE ITS PINK AND FLOWERING BUD,
YON FLOWER PICK FOR ME,
AND SHOULD YOU BRING ME BACK THE BLOOM,
I'LL GIVE A BIT-TO THEE"
WELL,THE KNIGHT DIDN'T NEED ANOTHER HINT,
HE JUMPED RIGHT IN AND SWAM,
"I'LL GET THEE BRIGHT AND YONDER BUD,
YOU'LL SEE HOW GOOD I AM."

OH,HOW HE LOVED THE MAIDEN.
ONLY HER,HE WISHED TO PLEASE.
PLUS,WOULD HE REALLY GET A BIT,
OR WAS THE WENCH A TEASE?
BUT ALAS,THE RIVER WAS A TEMPEST
A SWIRLING ANGRY RAGE.
AND,HE'D FORGOT HE COULDN'T SWIM
----NOT THE SMARTEST SAGE.

AS HE REACHED OUT FOR THE FLOWER,
WHEN HE NEARED THE OTHER BANK,
HE FELT SOMETHING IN THE WATER
GIVE HIS LEGS A YANK.
HE WAS TRAPPED IN ALL THE FLOTSOM,
AND THE WATER NEARED HIS HEAD.
HE KNEW THAT HE WAS DONE FOR,
THAT SOON HE WOULD BE DEAD.

SHE WATCHED HER GALLANT KNIGHT,
FIGHTING,FOR HIS LIFE.
NOW ALL HER DREAMS WERE SHATTERED
AND SHE WOULD NEVER BE HIS WIFE.
"I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER" HE CRIED
TO THE RIVERBANK ABOVE.
"FORGET-ME NOT,MY DARLING,
FORGET-ME -NOT,MY LOVE.

AND THATS HOW THE FORGET-ME-NOT GOT ITS NAME

MERRY DICKMAS FATHER CREASEYMAS

2005-12-05T23:11:00.000-08:00

Wisbech Town,my football team.Are a team playing in the lowly divisions of football(soccer to the ignorant)in England.We've in the past had times of glory--with big crowds,and on occasions getting to 1st and 2nd rounds proper of the F A Cup.Town are having a pretty good year this year,we're well placed in the Ridgeons League-and at the time of writing still in the F A Vase--that's a trophy that the minnows of English Football fight for.The next round is due to be played the next Saturday to this date of writing-so I hope I don't jinx them.We also play in a high enough level of football,that calls for our boys to troop out on Boxing day each year,blow the cob webs ,turkey and brown ale from their systems--and go play football.For the purpose of this poem-you do need to know that the Manager/Coach of Wisbech Town Football Club aka "The Mighty Fenmen" is one Mr Dick Creasey,and we play at Fenland Park.

IT WAS THE DAY AFTER CHRISMAS,
WHEN DOWN FENLAND PARK
CAME SOHAM TOWN RANGERS
FOR THEIR BOXING DAY LARK.
THE FENMEN WERE HUNGRY
FOR THEIR DINNER THEY'D MISSED
THOUGH BLOATED WITH TURKEY
AND STILL THREE PARTS PISSED

"WHICH BALL SHALL I GO FOR?"
SAID OUR KEEPER TO DICK,
SEEING THREE HEAD TOWARD HIM
AND FEELING QUITE SICK.
"GO THE MIDDLE" HE REPLIED
"AND HOPE FOR GOOD LUCK"
THEN WE ALL HEARD A SCREAM
AND A LOUD "WHAT THE F*CK!"

"OOOPS" SAID THE KEEPER,
(THATS NOT QUITE WHAT HE SAID)
HE'D KICKED SOHAM TOWN STRIKER
FAIR IN THE HEAD.
WELL,A PUNCH UP ERUPTED,
A FULL ALL IN BRAWL,
"I COULDN'T HELP IT" SAID KEEPER
"I WENT FOR THE BALL."

"YOU'RE OFF," SAID THE REF,
AS HE PULLED OUT THE CARD,
"YOU MISSED OUT ON THE BALL
BY A GOOD HALF A YARD."
"BUT I DID WHAT HE TOLD ME,
AND IT WASN'T THAT EASY"
HE SAID,POINTING FINGER
AT MANAGER CREASEY.

OH!THE BOXING DAY FOOTY,
I WOULDN'T MISS IT FOR QUIDS,
ALL PEACE AND QUIET
FROM THE MISSUS AND KIDS.
AWAY FROM THE SQUABBLE
NOISE,NAGGING AND ALL.
TO WATCH GROWN UP MEN,
FIGHT OVER A BALL. "GO YOU MIGHTY FENMEN"

THAT'S THAT THEN--(they wonder why I'm so angry)

2005-12-04T22:16:00.000-08:00

Everyone knows a cranky old bugger,these people that sit on fences and growl at kids when they go past,angry at the world,you couldn't do anything right for them if you tried.When I was a kid,the old sod nextdoor,Wal Courtman,had us kids shit scared-at times we'd be afraid to go out the gate-there he'd sit-on his fence--waiting.I think sometimes his poor wife used to tell him what an old bastard he was,because on occasions,we'd sneak past him,and he'd bring out a paper packet of those bon-bon type toffee's,you know? the ones with sugar all around them.On other occasions he'd just as leave turn the hose on us kids--you never could tell, you never knew which way he was going to go.Why was he so angry? and he's not the only one--old Gretta was the same,Gretta was the aunt of a friend, of a friend I've met on this wonderfull medium-the internet.So Gretta had very close connections to me.Well,she didn't did she?--but everyone knows Gretta,and everone knows Bloody Old Wal Courtman--But have we stopped and thought why they are so angry--and as we get a little older.do we find a little of Wal or Gretta sneaking into our make up ? Guess what ? I have.

THATS THAT THEN (AND THEY WONDER WHY I'M SO ANGRY)

I'M OLD,AND I'M GREY.
AND MANY WOULD SAY,
THAT I WON'T BE AROUND
FOR MANY A MORE DAY.
BUT I'M TELLING YOU,
I'M NOT FINISHED YET
I'VE GOT THINGS TO DO
AND I'LL DO EM.YOU BET!

I KNOW THAT I'M FRAIL
AND A LITTLE BIT SLOW.
I'VE GOT A FALSE PLATE
WHERE ME TEETH USED TO GO.
I WALK WITH A LIMP,
MY BACKS STIFF AND SORE,
AND MY EYES AINT AS GOOD
AS THEY WERE ANYMORE.

BUT,EACH DAY I GET BY,
YOU KNOW,I LIVE HERE ALONE?
JUST ME,AND ME DOG
AND OF COURSE,THERE'S THE PHONE,
NOT THAT IT RINGS MUCH,
ITS JUST NICE THAT ITS THERE,
JUST WAITING TO TELL ME
SHOULD SOMEBODY CARE.

WHEN THE NIGHTS SEEM SO LONG
I CAN'T SLEEP VERY MUCH.
HE'S BEEN GONE FOR YEARS
SO THERE'S NO ONE TO TOUCH.
I THINK OF IT THEN,
IN THE MIDST OF THE NIGHT,
"CLOSE YOUR EYES,JUST LET GO
AND ALL WILL BE RIGHT"

BUT BUGGER ME,COME THE MORNING
AND I FIND I'M STILL HERE,
I GETS UP,MAKES ME COFFEE
AND SITS IN ME CHAIR.
OLD DOG WADDLES UP,
SO I GIVES HER A PAT.
THEN GETS ON WITH OUR DAY,
AND WHY ? CAUSE THATS THAT!

THAT'S THE WAY THAT IT HAPPENS,
THAT'S WHEN YOU GET OLD,
THAT YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE LEFT,
THAT'S THERE'S NO ONE TO HOLD.
THAT EVERYTHINGS WRONG
THAT NOT A SOUL CARES.
THAT DEATH'S NOT THE WORRY,
THAT ITS THE WAITING I FEAR.

OH LITTLE CHILD OF BETHLEHEM

2005-11-23T00:30:00.000-08:00

Well,its that time of year again.Television ads crammed full of toys and things for kids to wish for--a time of year when kids are told "behave yourself or Santa won't come"--a time of year when some kids can be as good as gold all year around and it will make no difference,because of people being put out of work by machines,or a person in New Delhi,doing your office work for 10% of what you used to do it for.A time of year when after the Christmas holidays,a kid can go back to school,and even though he was so good all year,and got very little from Santa,the little rich spoiled bastard,that teased him ,and was horrible to everyone--got just what he asked for.Who the hell invented this Santa Claus ? Really,he did no favours to anyone did he? just helped to push the faces of the "have nots" into the ground.

"OH LITTLE CHILD OF BETHLEHEM"

OH LITTLE CHILD OF BETHLEHEM,
YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU STARTED.
THE SHEPHERD CAME,AND KINGS THE SAME,
LEAVING GIFTS AS THEY DEPARTED.
YOU ARRIVED,IN SUCH A HUMBLE WAY
AMONG THE CATTLE,FEED AND STRAWS,
BUT PEOPLE,SOMEHOW MESSED IT UP
INVENTING SANTA CLAUS.

DON'T GET ME WRONG,HE'S A REAL FINE MAN,
AND HE'S GOOD TO GIRLS AND BOYS,
ON YOUR BIRTHDAY HE ENTERS EVERY HOUSE,
LEAVING GIFTS,LIKE FOOD AND TOYS.
HE HAS THIS TEAM OF REINDEER
THROUGH THE SKY,THEY PULL HIS SLEIGH
STOPPING AT EACH,AND EVERY HOUSE,
DROPPING PRESENTS ON HIS WAY.

THE CHILDREN THINK HE'S LOVELY,
AND,HE IS,BUT LET ME SAY.
THE ONE THING KIDS DON'T UNDERSTAND,
IS THAT PARENTS HAVE TO PAY.
ITS NOT THAT WE'RE COMPLAINING,
DON'T GET ME WRONG DEAR LORD.
ITS JUST THAT,WELL,IN THESE HARD TIMES,
SOME PEOPLE CAN'T AFFORD.

THEN T.V,LORD,IT DON'T HELP
SHOWING WHAT THE SHOPS HAVE GOT.
AND THE KIDS,THAT GET EXCITED,
THEY HOPE TO GET THE LOT.
BUT SOME,THEY WON'T GET ANY,CAUSE
DADS OUT OF WORK AND BROKE.
AND CHILDREN,- DON'T SEE THE REASON.
ITS ENOUGH TO MAKE ME CHOKE.

WHAT DO WE TELL THE CHILDREN,
WHEN SANTA DOESN'T COME?
HOW DO WE TELL THE CHILDREN,
WHEN THEY KNOW,HE CAME TO SOME ?
ON YOUR BIRTHDAY,CHRISTMAS MORNING,
NO TOYS,NO FOOD FOR FORK.
I KNOW WHAT YOU COULD DO DEAR LORD
TELL SANTA---"TAKE A WALK"

AN ODE TO ALFIE'S MATES

2005-11-14T22:53:00.000-08:00

You know what I don't understand?I don't understand why people spend a fortune on dogs--"New Dogs"--dogs that some bastard on a doggie farm has bred in disgusting conditions just to make a quid.(although I must admit to having done it myself in the past--like 6 months ago when we got Lu Lu)People go there and hand over their hard earned for the latest fad dog,that sometime later when the novelty has worn off--dump them either in the bush or hand them in to dog pounds.Friends of mine just went one of these places and got Alfie--a very ugly scruffy dog,that only an owner could love--Oh,and anyone else that happens to see him.But he was one of these dogs-from a home ,not loved anymore.Until my friends rescued him.But Julie and Malcolm couldn't give them all a home,Alfies mates got left there.Go and rescue Alfies mates--before its too late.

AN ODE,TO ALFIES MATES.

I,AM A DOG,AND I SIT HERE ALL DAY,
'CAUSE I'M LOCKED IN A CAGE AT R.S.P.C.A.
I HAVEN'T ALWAYS LIVED HERE,I BELONGED TO A BOY.
AND HE USED TO TREAT ME AS HIS FAVOURITE TOY.
WE'D GET UP EACH MORNING,OVER PADDOCKS WE'D ROAM,
AND,WHEN HE WENT TO SCHOOL I'D FEEL SO ALONE.
BUT WITH TEACHING FINISHED,HE'D COME HOME WITH HIS BAG,
I'D HEAR HIS VOICE,AND HE'D SEE MY TAIL WAG.
THEN OFF WE WOULD GO,AND BELT DOWN THE STREET,
HIM GOING FAST WITH ME AT HIS FEET.

ONE DAY,ALL THIS STOPPED,AND HE CAME HOME LATE.
I HEARD HE'D BEEN OFF,DOWN THE STREET WITH HIS MATE.
HE SAT,ATE HIS DINNER,THEN OFF HE WOULD GO
I JUMPED UP TO FOLLOW,BUT HE SHOUTED ME "NO"
WAS HE TALKING TO ME? NAH,SO I WENT OFF AGAIN.
HE HE BROUGHT ME BACK HOME,I GOT PUT ON A CHAIN.
THE DAYS SLOWLY DRAGGED,NO MORE PLAYING OR FUN
AND I WISHED THAT MY DAYS HAD NEVER BEGUN.

ONE DAY,DAD CAME HOME AND I GOT PUT IN THE CAR,
HE DROVE FOR A WHILE,BUT NOT VERY FAR,
AND WE CAME TO THIS PLACE,SURROUNDED BY CAGES
A LADY THERE TOOK DOWN MY DETAILS ON PAGES.
I HEARD HER WHISPER,IN A QUIET LITTLE VOICE,
"I'M SO SORRY SIR,THERE JUST ISN'T A CHOICE,
PEOPLE LIKE YOUNG DOGS,ON THAT THERE MINDS SET,
SHE'LL BE HERE FOR A WEEK,THEN GET SEEN BY THE VET."

THEN,THEY TOOK ME AWAY,TO A CAGE AT THE REAR.
I COULD TELL BY THE NOISE,THERE WERE OTHER DOGS NEAR.
THEY BARKED DAY AND NIGHT,IN A SAD SORT OF WAY,
MORE DOGS CAME TO JOIN US,THERE WERE DOZENS EACH DAY.
WELL,TIME PASSED REAL SLOWLY,I'D BEEN THERE FOR A WEEK,
WHEN A GIRL IN A WHITE COAT,CAME FOR ME-DIDN'T SPEAK.
AND SHE LED ME AWAY,THROUGH A DOOR AT THE END,
WHERE BEYOND IT STOOD MY VETINARY FRIEND.
HE GAVE ME A STROKE,AND A PAT ON THE HEAD,
THE SLIGHT PRICK OF A NEEDLE,NO MORE DOGGIE--I'M DEAD.

FROM LOVES ASHES,GREW A ROSE

2005-11-12T21:45:00.000-08:00

NOVEMBER 14 IS MY DAUGHTER KELLY'S BIRTHDAY.21 THIS YEAR,TIME FLIES IT ONLY SEEMS LIKE YESTERDAY (WELL,THE DAY BEFORE) THAT SHE WAS BORN.I DON'T THINK IN 21 YEARS I HAVE EVER WRITTEN A POEM FOR KELLY--NOT DIRECTLY TO HER,WHEN SHE WAS YOUNG I USED TO WRITE SILLY SONGS THAT WE WOULD SING WHILST DRIVING ALONG IN THE CAR.BUT I'VE NEVER WRITTEN ONE FOR HER,NOT A NICE ONE--PROBABLY BECAUSE I'VE NEVER HAD TO GROVEL TO HER,OR TRY TO WOO HER,OR GET HER BACK,OR SAY SORRY,OR IMPRESS--BECAUSE FOR THE TWENTYONE YEARS OF HER LIFE ,SHE'S BEEN THERE.IF I WANTED TO TELL HER HOW MUCH I LOVED HER--I COULD GIVE HER A BIG HUG AND A KISS AND TELL HER I LOVE HER.I'M SO VERY PROUD OF HER AND WHAT SHE'S DONE--SHE DIDN'T LIKE SCHOOL MUCH,INFACT SHE GOT KICKED OUT,WORKED AS A SHOP ASSISTANT FOR A WHILE,BUT THEN DECIDED SHE WANTED BETTER,PUT HERSELF THROUGH TECH COLLEGE AND MADE LIFE A WHOLE LOT BETTER.SHE MET DAMIEN,AND THEY HAVE BOUGHT A HOME TOGETHER AND EVERYTHING SEEMS TO BE GOING WELL FOR THEM.I OFTEN SEE IN COURT REPORTS " HE/SHE CAME FROM A BROKEN HOME" WELL,WE HAVE FOUR CHILDREN THAT CAME FROM A BROKEN HOME AND WE'RE PROUD OF THEM ALL--ITS NO EXCUSE FOR BAD BEHAVIOR

FROM THE ASHES OF LOVE,GREW A ROSE

NOVEMBER FOURTEEN,NINETEEN EIGHTYFOUR
JUST AFTER LUNCH,AROUND ONE.
OUT POPPED YOUR LITTLE BALDY HEAD
FROM YOUR MOTHERS TUM.
AND WHAT A SCREAMING THING YOU WERE,
YOU CRIED AND CRIED,AND WORSE.
YOU MADE SUCH A BLOODY RACKET THAT
I WENT AND SAW THE NURSE.
"WHAT'S THIS BLOOMIN SQUARKING THING
YOU'VE GIVEN US " I SAID,
"THAT'S YOUR DAUGHTER MR NORMAN,
AND ITS TIME THAT SHE WAS FED."
SO IT WAS,FROM DAWN TILL DUSK,
FROM RISING SUN TILL NIGHT.
IF IT WASN'T WANTING FEEDING-
YOU'D DONE ANOTHER SHITE.

BUT,THAT WAS THEN

LOOK AT YOU,JUST LOOK AT YOU,
YOU'VE GROWN SO FAST,AND HOW.
JUST YESTERDAY A LITTLE GIRL,BUT
YOU'RE A LADY NOW.
AND ITS HARD TO SHOW JUST HOW I FEEL.
BUT,I'M TRYING HEAVEN KNOWS.
HOW OUT OF LOVES BURNT ASHES
GREW SUCH A LOVELY ROSE

A ROSE THAT KNOWS JUST WHO SHE IS,
AND SAYS WHAT'S ON HER MIND.
A ROSE THAT STOOD AND WEATHERED
LIFE'S STORMS OF EVERY KIND.
A ROSE THAT WARMS A FATHERS HEART,
WITH A TRUE AND HONEST SMELL.
A ROSE,I FEEL SO LUCKY TO
HAVE GIVEN LIFE AS WELL.

SO,AFTER BABIES BOTTLES,
THE TANTRUMS,SCREAMS AND TEARS.
I VALUE EACH AND EVERY ONE
AND HAVE,THROUGHOUT THESE YEARS.
I WOULDN'T TRADE A SINGLE DAY,
EVEN PUTTING UP WITH MUM,
TO SEE MY LOVELY,BLOOMING ROSE,
THE LADY YOU'VE BECOME.

I LOVE YOU,AS I ALWAYS WILL,AND
YOU NEVER WERE THAT BAD.
IN FACT,YOU'RE THE ONE THAT KEPT ME GOING.SO
HAPPY BIRTHDAY--------------DAD. XXXX

A FATHER'S GENTLE LOVE

2005-11-07T18:40:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've written--working on a few projects that I've been finding hard to put words to.Knowing what I've wanted to say,but not been able to twist the words into the message.Those that don't know me,I am the middle of five boys,the sixth child my sister Angela.I'm sure the reason there was five boys,is because Angela didn't come along sooner--so I guess some of us have her late arrival to thank for our being at all.Angela was everything Mum And Dad had wanted,but sadly Dad,who I could never remember being a well man,died before Angela was two years old.I know Dad would be so proud of his girl,how she's grown up into a wonderful woman.How she's been a very special daughter to Mum,with whom she has a relationship that has to be seen to understand.Angela has found a very special happiness.Angela who celebrates a birthday soon,is also getting married in April next year to a lovely bloke called Mick,and,I reckon if Dad were around today he would also be chuffed to see her so happy,----------infact he told me so in,

A FATHERS GENTLE LOVE

AS WINTER,TURNED TO SPRING,
IT WAS THE AUTUMN OF MY LIFE
WHEN I SAW YOU IN THE ARMS
OF YOUR MOTHER,MY WIFE.
THEN,I WAIVED GOODBYE THROUGH THE WINDOW,
BLEW YOU KISSES FROM MY BED.
AND THAT,WAS THE LAST YOU SAW ME.
BUT ME? I'VE WATCHED FROM OVERHEAD.

WE TRIED SO HARD TO HAVE YOU,
BUT IN A ROW WE HAD ALL BOYS,
AND THOUGH,WE LOVED EACH ONE OF THEM
YOUR ARRIVAL,WAS JOY OF JOYS.
YOU,WERE OUR LITTLE GIFT FROM HEAVEN,
ALL WE WANTED, SO IT SEEMS.
YET THE TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER,
HAVE BEEN IN MAINLY PRAYERS, AND DREAMS.

BUT,YOU KNOW THAT I'VE BEEN LOOKING,
I'VE SEEN YOU BLOOM AND GROW,
INTO A VERY SPECIAL WOMAN,
THIS I THINK THAT YOU SHOULD KNOW.
HOW YOU'VE WATCHED AND CARED FOR MUM
FOR SO MANY, MANY YEARS.
SEEN HOW CLOSE YOU'VE GROWN TOGETHER
THROUGH THE LOVE,THE LIFE AND TEARS.

AND ANGELA,I'M SO PROUD OF YOU,
WITH EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE.
I LOVE YOU FOR THE WAY YOU ARE,
AND OF ALL THAT YOU'VE BECOME.
I SEE BIG DAYS AHEAD OF YOU,
SO I SEND FROM UP ABOVE,
ONE ANGEL TO ANOTHER,
A FATHERS GENTLE LOVE.

PARANOIA

2005-10-15T03:13:00.000-07:00

HAVE YOU EVER FALLEN ASLEEP AND HAD A DREAM SO REAL,THAT YOU FELT IT REALLY HAPPENED,SOMETHING THAT WAS GOING ON AROUND YOU (WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING)THAT IT BECAME PART OF YOUR DREAM.TODAY JULIE AND I HAD BEEN BUSY AROUND THE HOUSE,WE THEN WENT FOR A DRIVE, CAME HOME AND HAD A SLEEP.I WAS WATCHING THE WRESTLING ON TELEVISION--JULIE LOVES THAT,SHE LOVES IT SO MUCH THAT SHE WENT IN THE OTHER ROOM TO HAVE HER SLEEP,WELL,ACTUALLY SHE WENT IN THERE TO READ BUT WITHIN 10 MINUTES I COULD HEAR THAT SHE WAS ASLEEP( WE'VE SPOKEN OF THE RACKET SHE MAKES WHEN SHE'S ASLEEP) AND THEN SHE STARTED WHIMPERING IN HER SLEEP---I THOUGHT "THAT BLOODY TOM CRUISE" BUT,NO IT WASN'T THAT KIND OF WHIMPER--SHE WAS UPSET IN HER SLEEP--TURNS OUT IT WAS SOME WOMAN THING--YOU KNOW, A DOG GETTING RUNOVER OR THE CREDIT CARD'S OVER ITS LIMIT,THOSE THINGS THAT WOMEN GET UPSET ABOUT---BUT CAN'T DREAMS BE REAL ?

I SLEPT ON THE FLOOR LASTNIGHT,
HAVING HAD MY FILL OF BEER.
I'D JUST DOZED OFF,WHEN I AWOKE,
SHAKING,WET WITH FEAR.
I'D HAD THIS REALLY ROTTEN DREAM
ITS STORY I WILL TELL
AND WHEN I'VE FINISHED TELLING IT
YOU'LL FEEL MY FEAR AS WELL.

I DREAMPT THIS GREAT BIG FUNNELWEB,
WAS CLIMBING ON ME BED.
IT HAD GREAT BIG FURRY TENTACLES
AND A MASSIVE HAIRY HEAD.
IT HAD EYES AS BIG AS SAUCERS
AND TEETH LIKE A MONSTER SHARK,
AS IT SLOWLY CRAWLED ALL OVER ME
IT LET OUT THIS FRIGHTENING BARK

IT STOOD THERE,TOWERING OVER ME.
GOD,DID I FEEL SMALL
ITS LEGS, THEY STRADDLED OVER ME BED,
AND IT WAS TWICE AS BLOODY TALL.
I HAD NO CLUE OF WHAT TO DO,
I JUST LAY THERE, I WAS FROZEN.
IT DIDN'T SEEM,IT WAS JUST A DREAM
AND I WAS ONLY DOZING.

ANYWAY,I DECIDED
TO GET ON THE ATTACK.
BUT TELL BE FOLKS WHAT COULD I DO
HERE LYING,ON ME BACK?
BUT I HAD ME TEETH,
SO I BIT IT.
WHAT A BLOODY WAIL.
AND PEOPLE THATS WHEN I AWOKE,
CHEWING MY DOGS TAIL.

TAKING TRIPS TO BALI

2005-10-15T02:41:00.000-07:00

I WROTE A POEM SOME TIME AGO, ABOUT A COUPLE OF MY FRIENDS- CALLED "TAKING DOPE TO BALI"--BALI,ONCE AGAIN HAS BEEN ROCKED BY TERRORISTS-BASTARDS THAT DON'T WANT TO LIVE THE SAME KIND OF LIVES WE DO,AND WANT TO TELL US THAT WE SHOULDN'T LIVE THAT WAY EITHER.I'VE NEVER BEEN TO BALI,BUT PEOPLE TELL ME THAT THE PEOPLE OF BALI ARE THE MOST LOVELY PEOPLE YOU COULD EVER WISH TO MEET.THREE YEARS AGO THIS MONTH,EIGHTYTWO AUSTRALIANS WERE BLOWN TO PIECES BY TERRORISTS,AND AGAIN THIS MONTH,OCTOBER ONCE AGAIN,AUSTRALIANS ARE BRINGING THEIR DEAD HOME TO BURY.
A SIGN ON A RIVER SAID-"NO SWIMMING,CROCODILES LIVE HERE"-SOME SILLY BUGGER DIVED IN AND GOT TAKEN--AND WE ALL SAID "WHAT A DOPE"--"DON'T SWIM HERE,SHARK INFESTED" WELL,IF YOU GET TAKEN--I GUESS YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE GONE IN THERE."STAY AWAY FROM EDGE OF CLIFF--UNSAFE"---"ARE YOU SURE?I THINK I'LL JUST CHECK IT OUT AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH.ANOTHER SILLY BUGGER BITES THE DUST.-----"THE AUSTRALIAN GOVERNMENT WISH TO LET ALL ITS PEOPLE KNOW THAT THEY RECCOMEND THAT ALL NONESSENTIAL TRAVEL TO INDONESIA INCLUDING BALI--SHOULD BE AVOIDED"---THAT IS THE OFFICIAL WORD FROM OUR LEADERS--BUT STILL WE HEAR OF PEOPLE SAYING THEY ARE GOING TO GO THERE.WELL,WHAT DOES IT TAKE ? I KNOW THAT IF WE GIVE IN AND STAY AT HOME--THE TERRORISTS WIN--BUT ,THERE ARE MANY, MANY PLACES ON THIS WONDERFUL PLANET OF OURS THAT WE CAN GO FOR A HOLIDAY,WITHOUT THE NEED TO BE LOOKING OVER OUR SHOULDERS ALL THE TIME,WHERE WE CAN SIT AND EAT OR HAVE A DRINK,WITHOUT WONDERING IF THE FRIGGING PLACE IS GOING TO BLOW UP AND TAKE HALF OF OUR FAMILY WITH IT.THE PEOPLE OF BALI MAY WELL BE LOVELY,BUT SO ARE MY FAMILY,SO ARE MY FRIENDS AND MY ADVICE TO THEM IS TO STAY AWAY FROM THE BLOODY PLACE.
BUT SHOULD YOU DECIDE TO GO,LET ME TELL YOU,SHOULD YOU GET BLOWN UP,PLEASE DON'T BE CRYING ON TELEVISION,PLEASE DON'T BE SAYING THAT THE AUSTRALIAN GOVERNMENT ARE DOING NOTHING TO HELP YOU.PLEASE DON'T ASK THAT SPECIAL AIRCRAFT BE SENT TO PICK YOU UP BECAUSE YOU'VE SHIT YOURSELF AND WANT TO GET OUT OF THE PLACE.THE AUSTRALIAN GOVERNMENT HAVE DONE ALL YOU'VE ASKED OF THEM--THEY TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM THE PLACE.TERRORISTS--DRUG SUGGLERS--CHICKEN FLU--DEATH AND BODY PARTS--GIVE ME BUTLINS ANYTIME

OLD JIMS SHED

2005-08-09T00:42:00.000-07:00

A COUNTRY SINGER IN AUSTRALIA, OR RATHER A BUSH BALADEER ,BY THE NAME OF JOHN WILLIAMSON A FEW YEARS AGO WROTE A SONG CALLED "ALL AUSTRALIAN BOYS NEED A SHED" AND ITS TRUE.AS MANY OF YOU KNOW ,JULIE AND I HAVE JUST MOVED INTO OUR FIRST OWN HOME,AND,ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS TO GET FIXED UP(AFTER THE COMPUTER) WAS THE SHED.IT ALREADY HAS A RADIO,FAN AND FRIDGE (WHICH ARE ALL VITAL TO AN AUSSIE MANS SHED.)ALONG WITH MY MEAGRE COLLECTION OF TOOLS (WHICH I'M BLOODY USELESS WITH ANYWAY).IT IS A "MASSIVE" 3M X 3M ERECTION--CHOCKERBLOCK FULL OF STUFF.BUT ITS "MY SHED". PROBABLY THE BEST SHED I EVER SAW,WAS MY OLD MATE,MY INSPIRATION IN MANY OF MY POEMS -"OLD JIMS SHED IN YOUNG" A PLACE WHERE OLD JIM AND HIS DOG "CUJO" SPENT MOST OF THE DAY.

THIS IS MY STORY,THE TALE HAS BEGUN
OF JIM,AND CUJO'S SHED IN YOUNG.
WHERE EVERYTHING'S METAL,CAUSE, JIM WOULD,IF HE COULD,
BURN EVERY SINGLE LAST PIECE OF WOOD.
WALK,AND BE CAREFULL,"DON'T TREAD ON THAT
PSSST---GO ON CUJO,GET THAT BLOODY CAT".
NOT ALL,CARE TO ENTER,THIS HALLOWED SHED,
AND YOU'LL NOT GET IN EITHER,LEST THE PASSWORD IS SAID.
"FOSTERS" THATS THE WORD,AS YOU KNOCK SCREAM IT OUT,
AND HAVE ONE OR TWO WITH YOU,CAUSE ITS ALWAYS YOUR SHOUT.

EVERTYTHING IS THERE,IN JIMS GREAT BIG SHED,
OLD PRAMS,STOVES,OVENS,DRIERS,SCRAP PIECES--A BED.
AN OLD DRUM IN THE CORNER,THAT SERVES AS A FIRE,
A GREAT PILE OF JUNK,AND THE MOUNTAIN GROWS HIGHER.
ON AN OLD UP TURNED CAN,THERE HE SITS ON HIS SEAT,
AS HE WARMS BY THE FIRE,HIS DOG AT HIS FEET.
"DO YA FANCY A BEER" IS HIS NORMAL HELLO,
"I GOT THIS FROM THE TIP,BUT THE BLUDGER WON'T GO,
PULL UP A CHAIR,THE BOTTLE TOPS PEELED."
AS HE DRAGS FROM THE PACKET,ANOTHER WINFIELD.

YOU CAN'T HELP BUT WONDER,OR CAN'T WAIT TO FIND
WHAT HE'S MAKING,AS YOU HEAR MACHINERY GRIND.
WITH THE ODD ANGRY OUTBURST,OCCASIONAL CURSE,
(AND WHEN THINGS GET REAL BAD,HE CAN DO EVEN WORSE)
BUT,WHEN CLANGING AROUNDS FINISHED,HE'LL OFT WANDER IN,
"HEY LORNE,LOOK WHAT I MADE,FROM THAT OLD PIECE OF TIN"
POOR LORNIE,SHE STUCK,TWIXED THIS,AND THE OTHER,
CAUSE IF SHE TELLS HIM ITS NICE,HE'LL GO MAKE ANOTHER.
"OH THATS NICE,WHAT IS IT ?" SHE SAYS SCRATCING HER HEAD.
BUT OLD JIM DOESN'T HEAR,HE'S BACK IN HIS SHED.

AS DAY SLIPS TO DARK,HE'S STILL THERE IN HIS SHED.
THE PATTER OF RAIN,HIT THE ROOF OVERHEAD.
HE SITS THERE CONTENT,WHAT MAN COULD NEED MORE?
THE OCCASIONAL DROP OF RAIN HITS THE FLOOR.
THIS SHED IS HIS CASTLE,THIS SHED IS HIS KEEP,
JUST ONE MORE BEER,THEN ITS OFF FOR A SLEEP.
"C'MON CUJO,THAT WILL DO FOR THE NIGHT"
HE HEADS FOR THE DOOR AND TURNS OUT THE LIGHT.
BUT,COME FIRST LIGHT IN THE MORNING,IT HAS TO BE SAID,
HE'LL BE STRAIGHT FROM HIS SLUMBER,AND INTO HIS SHED.

STUCK UP SANTA

2005-07-28T02:40:00.000-07:00

Its coming towards the end of July.In Australia we do a funny thing,because its too hot at Christmas to have a traditional Christmas dinner,we have what we call "Christmas In July".Its the middle of winter so everyone welcomes the Turkey etc that you, in other parts of the world would enjoy in December.Not that all of this has anything to do with this poem,its just an explanation as to why Santa would come to my mind at this time of the year.

IT WAS HALF PAST ONE ON CHRISTMAS MORN.
WHEN,A KNOCKING AT MY DOOR
CAME THIS LITTLE SCREAMING GREEN DRESSED ELF,
"SANTA'S STUCK IN NUMBER FOUR".
SO,I WANDERED DOWN TO HAVE A LOOK
AND SEE WHAT WAS THIS FARCE.
THERE STICKING OUT THE CHIMNEY WAS,
BLACK BOOTS,AND SANTA'S ARSE.

"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?" I ASKED THE ELF,
"ITS NEVER BEEN BEFORE,
SANTA'S BEEN DOING THIS,"I SAID
"FOR A THOUSAND YEARS OR MORE"
"TOO MUCH PUD,"HE TOLD ME
"AND TOO MUCH CAKE AND BEER,
HE'S TWO STONE HEAVIER THAN HE WAS,
TWELVE MONTHS,THIS TIME OF YEAR".

"WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?" HE SAID
"THE CART IS FULL OF TOYS,
WE'VE STILL GOT A THOUSAND DROPS TO DO
FOR ALL THE GIRLS AND BOYS".
SO,I STOOD THERE THINKING FOR A WHILE,
HUMMING CHRISTMAS TUNES.
WHEN I SUDDENLY HAD A BRAIN WAVE,
"I'LL GO AND GET THE PRUNES"

WELL,I GOT THEM,AND I CAME BACK.
THEN QUIET AS A MOUSE,
IN THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW,
I CREPT THROUGH MY NEIGHBOURS HOUSE.
IN THE LOUNGE ROOM WAS THE FIRE,
BULGING,LIKE THE CHIMNEY'D BUST,
AND WITH ALL OF SANTA'S STRUGGLING,
THE PLACE WAS FULL,OF SOOT AND DUST

AS I LOOKED UP THE CHIMNEYS DARKNESS
OF THAT FIRE PLACE.
THERE,FIVE FEET ABOVE ME,
WAS SANTA'S SOOTED FACE.
"HI SANTA,HOW YA GOIN?"
"I'M STUCK HERE,DON'T YOU KNOW ?
AND I'M REALLY BLOODY GRUMPY,
THERE'LL BE NO HO HO HO."

"GET THESE INTO YA SANTA,"I SAID,
PASSING HIM THE PRUNES.
"YOU'LL KNOW JUST WHEN THEY START TO WORK,
YOU'LL BE PLAYING DIFFERENT TUNES."
FOR HALF AN HOUR WE WAITED,
THEN THE PRUNES BEGAN TO START,
AND SANTA ANNOUNCED IT TO THE WORLD,
WITH A GIANT ENORMOUS FART.

HE FLEW RIGHT OUT THE CHIMNEY
AND LANDED ON THE FLOOR,
HE QUICKLY EMPTIED OUT HIS BAG,
THEN SHOT OUT THROUGH THE DOOR.
IN A FLASH JUMPED IN HIS SLEIGH,
AND,AS THE STORY'S SINCE BEEN TELLED
HIS ROUND WAS FINISHED IN HALF THE TIME,
THANKS TO PRUNE PROPELLED.

ENAMAZING STORY

2005-07-26T23:29:00.000-07:00

It was 32 years ago this August,that I decided to come to Autralia,which I did,in December 1973,obviously just before Xmas that year.I had been living with an Australian girl in London,who after being in England for three years had decided it was time she went home to Australia.As I said ,we lived in London,but she was born and bred in an arsehole of a place called Boggabri,a small town that sits on the river Namoi in country New South Wales.If ever there was a town that resembled the outback towns you hear of in T V shows or movies,Boggabri is it.It is a horrible town,dry ,red soil and within it lived who was at the time my prospective father in-law.He who will remain nameless, he was also horrible,and just as a bonus he hated Pommie Bastards--like me.As it was ,the girl that dragged me all the way from London to Australia---dumped me after being here a few days,and went back to the boyfriend she had before she went to England.As I said,Boggabri a horrible place,girls Dad a horrible man,and as for the girl-? funny enough 25 years later we hooked up again for a short while,and guess what ? She was a horrible person.I dedicate this song(yes folks a song) to the lot of em.

FROM LONDON BRIDGE,TO RIDGY DIDGE
I'VE LIVED A LIFE TO TELL.
FROM KEN STREEN HIGH,TO BOGGABRI
FROM PARADISE,TO HELL.
FROM ENGLANDS SOIL,TO SHEARER'S TOIL,
I'VE SEEN IT ALL I FEAR.
BUT IF AUSTRALIA NEEDS AN ENEMA
WELL,BOGGABRI'S ITS REAR.

IF IT SLIPPED INTO THE NAMOI
WHAT A PARTY I WOULD THROW OH BOY!
I'VE SEEN AS MUCH OF IT AS I CAN BARE
ITS AN ARSEHOLE OF A PLACE,
SO PLEASE DON'T SHOVE IT IN MY FACE,
AND IF IT WASN'T FOR THE SHEEP
I WOULDN'T CARE.

I WENT THERE FOR A DAY,ONE HOUR
COULDN'T EVEN GET A BLOODY SHOWER,
ITS A PLACE WHERE BEER IS CHEAPER THAN THE WATER.
BUT THOUGH THE BATH WAS SADLY MISSED
I HIT THE PUB
GOT BADLY PISSED
TO END UP SLEEPING WITH THE FARMERS DAUGHTER

WELL,THAT KIND OF ENDED ALL THE FUN,
THE OLD BOY WENT AND GOT HIS GUN,
LOADED,PULLED THE TRIGGER,BOY IT BLASTED!
WELL I BELTED DOWN THE ROAD
AS HE STARTED TO RE-LOAD
SHOUTING "I'LL KILL YOU;
YOU ROTTEN POMMIE BASTARD."

IF IT SLIPPED INTO THE NAMOI,
WHAT A PARTY THERE WOULD BE OH BOY !
I'VE SEEN AS MUCH OF IT AS I CAN BARE.
ITS AN ARSEHOLE OF A PLACE,
SO PLEASE DON'T SHOVE IT IN ME FACE,
AND IF IT WASN'T FOR THE SHEEP
I WOULDN'T CARE

WELL,THE MAIL TRAIN LEFT QUITE LATE,
IT SEEMED THAT SYDNEY WAS ME FATE.
BUT I HAD ONE LAST MESSAGE FOR HER OLD MAN.
WE WERE TRAVELLING SECOND CLASS
DROPPED ME DAKS AND FLASHED ME ARSE
WHISTLING DIXIE AND SHOUTING CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

CAUSE IF IT SLIPPED INTO THE NAMOI,
WHAT A PARTY I WOULD THROW OH BOY !
I SAW AS MUCH OF IT AS I COULD BARE,
ITS AN ARSEHOLE OF A PLACE
SO PLEASE DON'T SHOVE IT IN ME FACE
AND IF IT WASN'T FOR THE SHEEP
I WOULDNT CARE----
AND IF IT WASN'T FOR THE SHEEP
I WOULDN'T CARE
SHOULD AUSTRALIA NEED AN ENEMA
I'VE FOUND ITS REAR

STILL CRYING INSIDE

2005-07-13T23:25:00.000-07:00

I don't know,I keep saying I should write a happy one,and then I start thinking,and things happen around the World,and so my thoughts turn to sadness.Maybe I'm just a miserable bastard thats destined to be the poor mans Leonard Cohen.I reckon when people die,or remove themselves from your life,there must be one hell of a void that we fill or ignore simply because its expected of us,you know,its ok to mourn for a while,but enough is enough,get over it,well I think some people just can't work that way,I'm sure they try very hard,but They're "Still Crying Inside"

HIS SLIPPERS,STILL SIT BY THE FIRESIDE,
HIS PIPE'S IN A RACK BY HIS CHAIR.
THE ROOM SMELLS OF ERINMORE MIXTURE.
ITS AS IF,ITS AS IF HE'S STILL HERE.
THERE'S A BOTTLE OF BROWN ALE,THAT SITS IN THE FRIDGE,
THAT I NEVER WILL DRINK,THAT'S FOR SURE.
HIS FAVOURITE VIDEO,SITS READY TO GO,
WHICH I WON'T HAVE TO WATCH ANYMORE.

HIS WASHING,STILL SITS IN THE BASKET,
DO I WASH IT,OR THROW IT AWAY?
AND HIS DOG ONCE MORE,SITS AT THE DOOR,
BUT THERE'LL BE NO WALKIES TODAY.
I DON'T THINK I CAN LAY IN MY BED ANYMORE,
ITS LONELY,AND NIGHTS SEEM SO LONG.
I DON'T SLEEP ANYWAY,UNTIL ITS NEAR DAY
AND SOMEHOW,EVERYTHING SEEMS SO WRONG.

NOW THE LAWNS NEED MOWING,THE HEDGE WANTS A TRIM,
THE HOUSE NEED A PAINT,BOTH OUTSIDE AND IN,
WHO'S GOING TO DO IT,WHERE DO I BEGIN ?
CAUSE HE,ALWAYS DID IT,IT ALWAYS WAS HIM.
BUT,I HAVE TO MOVE ON,THAT,I PROMISED,
AND I'LL SHOW A BRAVE FACE AS I GO.
MY SORROW I'LL HIDE,WHILST STILL CRYING INSIDE,
CAUSE I MISS HIM ,SO MUCH-----YOU KNOW?

WHAT A WHOPPER

2005-07-12T00:53:00.000-07:00

I can eat,and I mean I CAN EAT but a while back I went to the local pub for what we call in Australia a counter lunch,I ordered the steak,no real meaning in this poem,no worldly rants or solving lives problems,it was just a BIG steak.

I TELL YOU MATE,YOU AINT HAD A STEAK,
AS BIG,NOT FAT,ALL LEAN.
TILL YOU'VE HAD THE ONE LIKE I HAD,
AT A PUB CALLED "THE TOURMALINE"
YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE SIZE OF IT,
WHEN IT FINALLY DID ARRIVE,
READY TO EAT AT HALF PAST EIGHT,
ORDERED AT TEN TO FIVE

BUT,THERE WAS GOOD REASON FOR THIS WAIT.
THIS FINE,AND JUICY STEAK
WAS TOO BIG FOR THE BBQ
ONLY ONE AT A TIME COULD TAKE.
PEOPLE CAME FROM DARWIN,
FROM OUR NATIONS FARTHEST EDGE
TO THE PLACE THEY SERVE A STEAK SO BIG,
NO ROOM ON THE PLATE FOR VEG.

A GASTRONOMICAL DELIGHT
OF GIGANTUOUS PROPORTIONS,
YOU COULD NEVER FIT THE WHOLE LOT IN
DESPITE YOUR TUMS CONTORTIONS.
YOU COULD FEED THE WHOLE OF CHINA
WITH JUST ONE OF THESE FINE DISHES,
JESUS ONLY FED FIVE THOUSAND
WITH FIVE LOAVES AND THREE FISHES.

THESE ANIMALS CHOPPED INTO "FRIGHT SIZE PIECES"
ARE ESPECIALLY BRED,
KEPT IN LUSH GREEN PASTURES,
ON ONLY THE BEST GRAIN FED.
THEY SAY,IT IS A MASSIVE BEAST.
AND BRED THIS WAY WHAT'S MORE,
BY MIXING THE GENES OF A BUFFALO,
WITH THAT,OF A DINOSAUR.

CHERISH THE MEMORIES

2005-07-12T00:17:00.000-07:00

Comes a time when the sadness has to stop,we can feel sorry for ourselves forever,or we can after a reasonable length of time say "Ive got to get on with it" and unless we've lived a totally miserable life (which surely some have)most of us have a tool that can help us get over, or through these hard times.Those of you that know me,would know that my Dad died when I was very young,leaving my wonderful Mum with six children,and I've often wondered how the hell she got through,and I reckon she must have used the tool,she Cherished The Memories.

MANY,IS THE TIME I'VE WONDERED,
AND I WISH,THAT I COULD SEE.
THE THINGS THAT REALLY MADE ME TICK,
THE THINGS THAT MADE ME,ME.
TO TRAVEL THROUGH LIFE'S BUMPY PATH,
WITH ITS UPS,AND ITS DOWNS.
THE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY,
THE THINGS THAT BRING ON FROWNS.
LIFE'S GOOD,LIFE'S ROTTEN
SOME THINGS I'M SURE,
ARE BEST FORGOTTEN.
SO,LETS KEEP THE GOOD,
DEFY THE BAD.
AND CHERISH PRECIOUS THINGS
WE'VE HAD.
LET MEMORIES BE
OUR GUIDE THROUGH PAIN,AND
OUR PLEASANT TIMES
RELIVE AGAIN.
AND AGAIN AND AGAIN
IF IT BE NEEDED.
UNTIL OUR TROUBLED TIMES
RECEEDED. CHERISH THE MEMORIES.

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT-& THE SECOND LAST PAGE

2005-06-13T01:25:00.000-07:00

YOU KNOW AFTER THE LOSS OF TED,AND WRITING ABOUT IT,I WAS READY TO CHEER YOU ALL UP,BUT AT THE MOMENT,CHEER ISN'T REALLY WHAT COMES TO MIND.IT SEEMS WHOEVER YOU TALK TO,EVERYONE KNOWS SOMEONE THAT IS GOING THROUGH A BREAKDOWN OR DEPRESSION OF SOME KIND.I MUST SAY I HAVE NEVER HAD SUCH A BREAKDOWN OR DEPRESSION,THE WORST I HAVE EVER FELT IS SAD,BUT I HAVE IN THESE TWO POEMS TRIED TO UNDERSTAND THESE THINGS.MAYBE IF I'VE NEVER FELT IT ,I SHOULDN'T WRITE ABOUT IT,BUT I'VE NEVER DIED, BEEN AN OLD LADY OR SHORN A SHEEP AND I WROTE ABOUT THEM--SO ?--"CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT-I DON'T CARE"

MY MIND,IS A GRAVEYARD,
MY HEART A DISEASE.
MY THOUGHTS ARE A MATTER
THAT NO-ONE CAN PLEASE.
MY LIFE ? ITS A MESS,
I CAN SAY AT THE BEST.
I,ON MEMORIES THRIVE
EVEN THEY STAND THE TEST.
EMOTIONS AND STANDSTILL,
MINDS WIDE OPEN DOOR.
AND MY VERY BEST THOUGHT,
"WHAT AM I HERE FOR?"
BUT,AS I LOOK AT MY LIFE,
LIKE A VIEW FROM A FUNNEL,
THERE'S A FLICKER OF LIGHT
AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL.
MY LIFE MUST GO ON,
AND NO MATTER WHAT
I MUST TAKE WHAT I HAVE
CRAVE NOT,WHAT I'VE NOT

WITH WIDE OPEN ARMS
I SHALL TAKE ,WHAT IS GIVEN
AND PROVE TO YOU ALL,
THAT MY LIFE IS WORTH LIVING
IN OTHERS,I'LL FIND
THE COMFORT I NEED.
AND THROW AWAY THOUGHTS
OF MY OWN SELFISH GREED.
MANKIND IS MY FAMILY,
MY SISTERS AND BROTHERS.
THE EARTH IS MY FATHER,
AND LOVE ,IS MY MOTHER.
AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG
IN LEANING ON THESE,
TO SEEK FOR THE COMFORT,
OUR SIMPLE MINDS NEED.

THE SECOND OF THIS DUO IS A POEM ABOUT ONE OF THE THINGS THAT TEND TO LEAD TO SUCH A STATE OF MIND--THE END OF SOMETHING,BE IT A RELATIONSHIP,THE LOSS OF SOMEONE OR EVEN THE LOSS OF A JOB,WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE GOING TO GO NEXT. "THE SECOND LAST PAGE"

A PAGE OF MY LIFE,
WAS RIPPED OFF TODAY
BUT,ON THE VERY NEXT SHEET
THE IMPRINT WILL STAY.
TO START A NEW LIFE
REQUIRES A NEW BOOK.
'CAUSE THE IMPRINTED PAGE
IS THE LAST TO BE TOOK.
I'M TOO TIRED AND SHATTERED
AND IN NO CONDITION
TO OPEN THE FRONT
OF A BRAND NEW EDITION.
SO,I'M LEFT WITH THIS PAGE,
NOT WRITTEN ON YET,
AND THE MARKS THAT SHOW THROUGH
WON'T LET ME FORGET.
I CAN SEE WHERE I'VE BEEN
WITHOUT REALLY KNOWING
WHAT HAVE I GOT ?
WHATS LEFT FOR THE SHOWING?
I'D KNOW ALL THE ANSWERS,
AND I'D KNOW WHAT TO SAY.
BUT THE SECOND LAST PAGE
WAS RIPPED OFF TODAY.

TED

2005-05-27T06:19:00.000-07:00

Ted was Julie's Uncle,sadly 26/5/05 Ted passed away after a long illness.Ted was a very much loved grandfather,father,husband and friend to many people.We worked it out one night, that possibly during Teds years in The Merchant Navy he may have been on the ship that rescued my Dad during the war.He came from the Isle Of Man and he had fond memories of the place.I only knew Ted for 5 years,but in that time grew to love him and enjoy his company.I'll miss him as will all that knew him,especially his Dark Haired Angel.

AND,I AWAKE ONCE MORE.

MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
SHE'S STILL THERE,
"SHHHH-SHHHHHHH
ITS O.K"SHE SAID,AS SHE STROKES MY HAIR.

AND I DRIFT ONCE MORE,
TO THE FIELDS SO GREEN,
THE FIELDS,MORE GREEN
THAN THEY'VE EVER BEEN.
I KNOW,AS A CHILD
I'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE
AS THE TRAIN TRAVELS DOWN
FROM THE HILLS TO THE SHORE.

AND I AWAKE,I AWAKE ONCE MORE.

MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
SHE'S STILL HERE
"WE LOVE YOU" THEY SAY
OTHER ANGELS ARE NEAR.

AND I DRIFT ONCE MORE,
BACK TO DAYS ON THE SEAS.
NO WAR ANYMORE,
ITS TRANQUIL,ITS PEACE.
AND,AS I SAIL ON THE OCEAN
A MESSAGE "HE" SENDS
THAT THE CREW IS MADE UP
OF LOST FAMILY AND FRIENDS.

AND I AWAKE,WHY,DO I AWAKE ONCE MORE?

AND MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
YET,SHE'S STILL THERE.
"I LOVE YOU" I TELL HER,
WE BOTH SHED A TEAR.

ITS THE LAST TIME I'LL DRIFT
NOW I'VE SEEN WHAT I SAW,
AND,THE PAIN HAS ALL GONE,
I'M NOT SCARED ANYMORE.
I LOVE ALL I'VE LEFT,AND I ALWAYS WILL,
AND,I'LL BE KEEPING AN EYE,
FROM MY SEAT ON THE HILL.
AND TO MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
WHO TENDED ME TRUE,
UNTIL YOU ARE READY,
I'LL WAIT HERE FOR YOU.

"BATHIE TIME BABY"

2005-05-23T02:08:00.000-07:00

This,is a poem I wrote a few years ago ,when my daughter Kelly got her first Maltese Terrier pup named "Twopence". Julie and I now have a new one called "Lu Lu".Lu Lu ,like Twopence hates her bath.and I don't blame her really,I mean,you and I decide when we want to have a bath,we also decide if we should have a hot bath,or a cold bath.The poor bloody dog gets its bath when we decide,it may have been totally inconvenient at that time,also if it was going to have a bath,I'm sure it would not have had it hot enough to cook it.or cold enough to freeze its balls off.This story is written,on behalf of the dog.

"OH-OH,HERE SHE COMES,
ITS THAT TIME OF THE WEEK.
SHAMPOOS OUT,THE BATH IS RUN,
SHE'S READY--SO TO SPEAK.
I'M NOT REALLY VERY DIRTY,
AND THERES NOT TO BAD A SMELL.
I'M COMFY BY THE FIRE HERE,
ITS NICE AND WARM AS WELL.
SHE CAN'T BE SERIOUS,SO
I THINK I'LL HAVE A DOZE.
AND THEN I HEAR HER SAY OUT LOUD
"THAT PUPPYS ON THE NOSE"
CHRIST,ITS TEN O'CLOCK AT NIGHT,
GIVE A LITTLE DOG SOME PEACE,
ITS NOT AS IF A LITTLE SMELL,
COULD SPREAD SOME GREAT DISEASE.
OH WELL,HERE I GO
MUST DO AS I'M TOLD
FIRST I'LL DIP MY TOESIES IN
SHIT! ITS BLOODY COLD.

SO HERE I SIT,A REAL BURKE,
SOAKED,I'M WET ALL OVER
I'LL GET HER SOON,I'LL HAVE A SHAKE
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ROVER,
WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING WITH THAT COMB"
I KNOW THE NEXT SURPRISE,
SHE'LL COVER ME WITH SHAMPOO
"OUCH ! ITS IN ME EYES"
QUICK,SOMEBODY GET A TOWEL,
I'VE HAD A BLOODY NOUGH.
BUT YOU,YOU IDIOT,YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND
TO YOU ITS "WOOF WOOF WOOF"

SO,WE'RE BACK RIGHT WHERE WE STARTED,
IN FRONT OF OPEN FIRE.
PERHAPS NOW I'LL GET SOME PEACE.
OH NO,HERE COMES THE DRYER.
AS IF I HAVEN'T HAD ENOUGH,
"NOW LISTEN MADAM,SIR
PUT THAT BLOOMING THING AWAY,
YOU'LL BLOW OFF HALF ME FUR."
STILL,SHE WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE.
YET,SHE MAKES A FUSS,
"WE'LL HAVE TO GET THE KNOTTIES OUT"
OH SHIT HERE COMES THE BRUSH.
TUG TUG,PULL PULL,
GROOMING,THIS IS CALLED.
IF SHE PULLS MUCH MORE OF ME OUT,
I'M GOING TO END UP BALD.

OH WELL,BATTLES OVER,
PEACE AND QUIET AT LAST.
NEXT TIME I HEAR THAT WATER RUN,
I'M NICKING OFF REAL FAST.
NO WAY WILL THEY FIND ME,
I'LL HIDE UNDER A LOG.
TILL THEY LEARN,WHATS GOOD FOR PEOPLE,
IS LIVING HELL FOR DOGS.

IN SEARCH OF KITTY'S KIN(post natal depression)

2005-05-23T01:29:00.000-07:00

In years gone by,if a lady suffered from post natal depression,chances are she was regarded as mad,and locked up.The subject of my poem is Katherine (Kitty) Miller.She was born in London around the year 1900,she came to Australia in 1910,married George Miller and had children.George died in 1920,two years after he had admitted Kitty to hospital suffering from "the madness" Total contact was lost with any other living relatives she had,and Kitty spent her remaining years in an Institution called "Bloomfield" in Orange (country New South Wales Australia) She spent over seventy years in this institution.Today we fix this problem with council and medication,not so in the past.

IN SILENCE,SHE SITS BY THE WINDOW.
FRAIL,CONFINED TO A CHAIR.
THINKING OF ,WHO CAN TELL,OR WHAT,
AS SHE HAS FOR MANY A YEAR.
GRIEF AT DEATH,WAS HER LAST,AND ONE SIN,
NOW AUSTRALIA SEARCHES,FOR HER NEXT OF KIN.

HER BABY HAD DIED,SHE'D TRIED TO BE BRAVE.
BUT EMOTIONS TOOK HOLD,WHEN,SHE SAW THE SMALL GRAVE.
DID SHE SEE WHAT SHE SAW?
"NO" THEY SAY ,WAS ILLUSION,
THEN REGARDLESS OF FACT,
WAS CONFINED,TO SECLUSION.
A LIFETIME AGO,YES THREE SCORE AND TEN,
COMMITED INSANE,BY THE STROKE OF A PEN.

THEY,KITTY'S LIFE WASTED,JUDGED MENTALLY ILL
BY SYMPTOM NOW FIXED,BY A SMALL YELLOW PILL.
IN SECRET FROM FAMILY,
HER HUSBAND,SHAME HIDES.
THEN HE,THE ONLY ONE KNOWING
TRAGICALLY DIES.
THE LONELY YEARS ROLL,JUST MORE FOLLOWS SAME.
WAITING FOR SOMEONE,BUT,NOBODY CAME.

NOW KITTY IS OLD,A CENTURY ON,
HER HOSPITAL FRIENDS SEARCH FOR RELATIVES, GONE.
WHERE ARE THEY NOW ?
ARE THEY SEARCHING IN VAIN?
IS THERE ANYONE KNOWINGLY BARES KITTY'S NAME?
IN SILENCE,SHE SITS BY THE WINDOW,
FRAIL,CONFINED TO A CHAIR.
HER EYES,HOLD THE TEARS,AS THEY HAVE DONE FOR YEARS
IS THERE SOMEONE THAT LOVES HER OUT THERE ?

MY WIFE

2005-05-18T23:56:00.000-07:00

I love my wife very much,and I've gone to length to explain this before,And whilst she is the "perfect wife",she has her faults(as do we all).She smokes,she sometimes blows wind and blames the dog,and speaking of the dog,she always seems to avoid picking up its mess.But there is one more---fault

THE WIND KISSED THE LIPS
OF THE LEAVES ON THE TREE
AS THEY FLUTTERED ON HIGH
IN THE BREEZE.
THE CRASH OF THE WAVES
THROUGH THE MIDNIGHT HAZE
AS THEY BREAK ON THE SAND
OF THE SHORE.

THE HOOT OF THE OWL
THE NEXTDOOR DOG HOWL
AND THE NOISE THAT MAKE
ANGELS TAKE FLIGHT.
LIKE THE CREAK OF THE FLOOR
AS YOU WALK THROUGH THE DOOR
OF THE HOUSE,
IN THE MIDST OF THE NIGHT.

I COULD TAKE ALL THIS RACKET,
LYING SNUG IN MY PACKET,
WHERE I'D STAY IN THE WARMTH
TILL THE MORN.
BUT,INSTEAD IN MY HEAD
ALL I HEAR IN MY BED
IS THE SOUND
OF MY LOVELLY WIFE SNORIN'

HAVE YOU YET TRIED TO MUFFLE,
A PIG SEEKING TRUFFLE?
OR DOGS FIGHTING OVER A BONE ?
SHE MAKES SUCH A DIN,
THAT I USUALLY GIVE IN
AND FIND THE SPARE BED,
----- ON MY OWN.

LADY ASH OF LEIGH

2005-05-12T23:13:00.000-07:00

GOD FORBID, IN DAYS GONE BY THAT A CATHOLIC BOY WOULD BRING HOME A PROTESTANT GIRL,THAT A JEW WOULD BRING HOME A MUSLIM.THAT A CELTIC BOY WOULD BRING HOME A GIRL WHO'S DAD WENT FOR RANGERS.IN THE WEST OF SYDNEY ITS RUGBY LEAGUE WE PLAY.MY COUSIN-IN-LAW AND I,ARE THIRTY ODD YEAR SUPPORTERS OF THE MIGHTY PARRAMATTA EELS.PETE'S DAUGHTER IS ACTUALLY ONE OF THE CHEERLEADERS FOR THE EELS.OTHER STRANGE PEOPLE IN THE WEST OF SYDNEY GO FOR THE PENRITH PANTHERS,MOST OF THEM ARE DEMENTED PEOPLE,THE KIND OF PEOPLE THAT WEAR PITT BULL TERRIERS AROUND THEIR NECKS FOR DECORATION AND CUDDLE THEIR OWN RELATIVES--NEVER MIND EACH TO THEIR OWN--BUT WHAT HAPPENED ? THIS VERY EDUCATED,ATTRACTIVE,UNTIL NOW VERY SENSIBLE GIRL---STARTED GOING OUT WITH A BLOODY PANTHER SUPPORTER.---GOD KNOWS WHAT THEIR CHILDREN MAY TURN OUT LIKE.PETE(WHO WAS A COP UNTIL HE FOUND OUT IT WAS BETTER PAY AND LESS DANGEROUS TO SIT IN AN OFFICE)MUST BE A VERY ,VERY SAD MAN,HE DOESN'T TALK ABOUT IT,HE SMILES-BUT I KNOW!

HIGH.IN THE TOWER
MIDST GLENMORE FOREST,
SITS LADY ASH OF LEIGH.
FOR SHE HAD BEEN A COURTING
A PENRITH LAD, YOU SEE?
SIR BENALOT,A HANDSOME YOUTH
(THOUGH DON'T HAVE MUCH UP TOP)
HAD SNUCK HER OUT THE BACKDOOR
TO AVOID"THE BALDING COP".

FOR THE WICKED,BALDING EX-COP
HAD FORBIDDEN THEY SHOULD MEET,
AND HE HAD CAUGHT THEM SNOGGING
IN THE BUSHES DOWN THE STREET.
"BUGGER OFF YOU LITTLE BASTARD,
SHE'S FOR A MAN OF CLASS,
AND IF I CATCH YOU SNIFFING HERE AGAIN,
I'LL KICK YOU UP THE ARSE."

HEARTBROKEN,SHE SITS IN THE TOWER,
FOR THE MAN SHE LOVED,SHE WAITED
"SIR BENALOT OF PENRITH"
THE MAN HER FATHER HATED.
"PRAY DADDY,TELL ME DADDY
WHY DO YOU HATE HIM SO?
WHY DID YOU TELL HIM BUGGER OFF?
DADDY,WHERE DID BENALOT GO?"

AND THE WICKED,BALDING EX-COP
LOOKED ASH OF LEIGH IN EYE.
A TEAR WAS ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK
"DADDY,WHY DO YOU CRY?"
"I HAD TO DO THE THINGS I DID,
THOUGH YOUR LOVE FOR HIM WAS REAL,
HE'S A BLOODY PANTHER,
YOU?-- YOU WERE BORN AN EEL!"

THE BATTLE OF SOUTH CREEK

2005-05-06T23:20:00.000-07:00

This is a story from a friend of mine.John Tebbutt has lived his whole life in Windsor New Soth Wales,in fact being now in his mid 60's has always lived on the same rural property,formerly a vegetable crop farm,now a turf farm.He of course grew up there. It would have been a fantastic place to grow up.South Creek runs through the property and you can imagine the fun kids would have with home made rafts,tree swings and battles that would have been fought between local gangs of boys.So here is my poetic version of Johns story.

IN THE DAYS WHEN ROY RODGERS WAS HERO.
FIFTY OR SO SUMMERS GONE BY
TOOK PLACE"THE BATTLE OF SOUTH CREEK"
WHEN CAME TO WINDSOR -THIS GUY.
THERE WAS TEBBO,CAMAK AND HINCHEY,
AND THE OTHER A MULLINGER KID
OH,AND OF COURSE OUR HERO FROM MELBOURNE,
AND I'LL TELL YOU JUST WHAT HE DID

THE GANG WERE HOLED UP,IN A BARN BY THE CREEK,
DAYS GONE BY,AN OLD MILKING SHED.
BUT BOYS BEING BOYS,THEY'D MOVED IN,AND
IT WAS THEIR "FORT APACHE" INSTEAD.
THEY HAD HEARD THE WORD THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE
THAT THEY HAD BETTER BE ON THEIR JOB,
"FORT APACHE"WAS BEING INVADED BY,
DOOLEY MAYNE AND HIS SOUTH WINDSOR MOB.

THEY DIDN'T EVEN SEE DOOLEY COMING.
BY CANOE,THEY'D CREAPT UP STREAM.
"INJUNS-INJUNS" CRIED OUT HINCHEY,
AS HE LET OUT A BLOOD CURDLING SCREAM.
TO THE FORT THEY RAN FOR THEIR SAFETY,
MUD GRANADES FLY AS THEY RUN
BUT THEIR DOMAIN WAS SOON TAKEN OVER
OUT NUMBERED BY TWENTY TO ONE.

TO THE OAK TREE THEY FLED,AS THEY MADE THEIR RETREAT
AND TOOK STOCK OF THEIR LOSSES AND GAIN
OF FIVE OF THEM THAT STARTED OUT
ONLY FOUR OF THEM NOW REMAIN.
"WHERE'S BLAKELY ?" CRIED THE MULLINGER KID
DID HE FALL IN THE BATTLE,OR FLEE?"
"I DON'T KNOW" SAID CAMAK AND HINCHEY
"WE WERE RUNNING TO FAST TO SEE"

LIKE ANZACS.THEY FOUGHT ON IN VALOUR.
BUT LIKE CUSTER,THEIR EFFORTS WERE LOST.
MUD GRENADES WERE FAST RUNNING OUT,
AND ALREADY A MAN IT HAD COST.
"THE BUGLE" (WELL,IT SOUNDED MORE LIKE A TRACTOR)
ON THE HORIZON.RE-ENFORCEMENTS WERE NEAR.
IT WAS DESERTER BLAKELEY, AND TEBBO'S DAD,
AND DOOLEYS GANG SCATTERED IN FEAR.

AND,WANTING TO PRESS HIS ADVANTAGE
OF HIS VICTORY,WISHING TO GLOAT.
BLAKELY RUNS TO THE WATERS EDGE
AND JUMPS IN DOOLEYS BOAT.
WITH MOBSTER CHASING IN HOT PURSUIT
"GERONIMO" HE CRIED
BLAKELY NOW,WAS SAFE AND SOUND
HE'D REACHED BANK,ON THE OTHER SIDE.

AND FROM SAFE HAVEN,ON THAT BANK
TO HOME WAS BUT SHORT RIDE.
BUT THERE IS JUST ONE BRIDGE IN WINDSOR,
TO CROSS FOR THE OTHER SIDE
AND DOOLEY WOULD BE THERE WAITING
FOR BLAKELEY TO ARRIVE.
WHAT WILL OUR CUNNING HERO DO,
TO AVOID A BUNCH OF FIVE?

THEY EVEN HAD CARS IN THOSE DAYS,
AND THEY HAD HITCH-HIKERS TOO
SO.BLAKELEY-HE STUCK OUT HIS THUMB
(I WOULDN'T PICK HIM UP -WOULD YOU?)
BUT SOMEONE DID."TO WINDSOR PLEASE"
SAID OUR HERO,WITH A SIGH.
AND ON THE BRIDGE STOOD DOOLEY.
BLAKELEY WAVED,AS HE WENT BY.

LORNE,JIM AND HOUND

2005-05-06T22:41:00.000-07:00

I've written before about Lorne and Jim the Sheep shearer and his wife who live in Young,Country New South Wales,Australia---I wouldn't be able to stand it myself,but they are among the millions of people on this planet,that allow their pet dogs to sleep with them,I think the only plus would be,that you can fart,and always have the dog to blame.Their dogs name was Cujo,and this is their poem.

JIM SAID "GOODNIGHT,I'M OFF TO BED,
I'M TIRED,AND CAN'T STOP YAWNING,
I'VE HAD ENOUGH FOR ONE DAY,
I'LL SEE YOU IN THE MORNING"
HE WANDERED DOWN THE HALLWAY
WITH SLEEPING ON HIS MIND,
THEN THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET.
"JIM,THE CREATURE'S RIGHT BEHIND".

"C'MON YOU MONGREL THING,
HURRY UP AND DON'T BE SLOW,
I'LL LET YOU OUT TO HAVE A LEAK,
THEN ITS OFF TO BED WE GO".
THE CREATURE DID,WHAT HE HAD TO DO,
AND JIM CLIMBED IN HIS BED.
WITH JOBBIES DONE,THE DOG JUMPED IN,
LANDING STRAIGHT ON POOR JIMS HEAD

"GET OFF YOU UGLY CRITTER,
AND GIVE A MAN SOME PEACE,
HURRY UP AND SETTLE DOWN,
AND NO MORE SNORING PLEASE.
YOU'LL HAVE MUM HERE IN A MINUTE,
ITS GETTING PRETTY LATE,
MOVE OVER YOU ROTTEN LOUSY THING
OR THE SHED WILL BE YOUR FATE"

LORNIE CAME SOON AFTER
SETTLING DOWN,TURNED OFF THE LIGHT,
AND ALL WERE IN THE LAND OF NOD,
BUT WHAT A NOISY FIGHT.
WITH MUM AND CRITTER SNORING
JIMS TEETH,A GRINDING SOUND.
AND THERE THEY STAYED TILL MORNING
LORNIE ,JIM AND HOUND

THE NEVER ENDING MILE

2005-05-01T01:28:00.000-07:00

I SAID TO MY MATE RICHARD THE OTHER DAY.I'D WRITTEN ALL SORTS OF POEMS ABOUT PEOPLE AND ABOUT THINGS,BUT I HAD NEVER WRITTEN ONE FOR JULIE, MY WIFE,AND AS I SAID TO RICHARD,I'D WRITTEN LOVE POEMS IN THE PAST FOR PEOPLE IN WHICH I SPEWED FORTH ALL SORTS OF STUFF,AND NOW THAT I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE ONE FOR JULIE,THE WORDS WOULD ONLY SOUND TRITE.BUT I HAD,I'D WRITTEN THIS A FEW YEARS AGO WHEN LOVE WAS YOUNG,AND MY FEELINGS STILL REMAIN THE SAME.

WALK WITH ME,WALK WITH ME
FOR MORE THAN JUST A WHILE.
TOGETHER,WE WILL SET OUT ON
THE NEVER ENDING MILE.
NOW WE'VE FOUND EACHOTHER
AND KNOW ITS NOT TOO LATE
SOUL MATE- ANAM CARA
ANAM CARA,MY SOUL-MATE.
SO WALK WITH ME,PLEASE,WALK WITH ME
FOREVER AND A WHILE
TOGETHER,LET US SET OUT ON,
THE NEVER ENDING MILE

TAKING DOPE TO BALI

2005-04-29T06:05:00.000-07:00

I DON'T GET IT,SCHAPELLE CORBY IS FACING A LIFE IN PRISON,OR EVEN THE DEATH PENANLTY,FOR TRYING TO SMUGGLE 4.5 KG OF AUSTRALIAN DOPE INTO BALI.DALE A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE MANAGED TO SMUGGLE AROUND 60 K G OF AUSTRALIAN DOPE INTO BALI-NO PROBLEM.ANOTHER FRIEND OF MINE KATHY,SMUGGLED AROUND 90 K.G OF NEW ZEALAND GROWN DOPE INTO BALI-NO PROBLEM.WHATS MORE THEY BOTH MANAGED TO GET SIMILAR AMOUNTS OF DOPE -OUT OF BALI--SCHAPELLE WHAT DID YOU DO WRONG?

IF I EVER GO TO BALI,
NOT MEANING TO BE RUDE.
BUT I'M GOING TO FLY THERE NAKED
YES,I'M FLYING IN THE NUDE.
THEY'LL FIND NO DOPE ON ME FOR SURE
I SWEAR UPON MY SOLE
THEY CAN SEARCH IN EVERY ORIFICE
IN EACH AND EVERY HOLE

AND I'LL TAKE WITH ME NO LUGGAGE
I'LL BUY IT WHEN I LAND
AND EVERYTHING I TAKE WITH ME
I'M KEEPING IN MY HAND.
CAUSE YOU JUST CAN'T TRUST THE BUGGERS
YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'LL FIND
WHEN THEY RUMMAGE THROUGH YOUR LUGGAGE,
SET YOU UP,OR ROB YOU BLIND

JUST THINK OF SCHAPELLE CORBY
STUCK IN THAT BALI CELL
AND OF THOSE OTHER SILLY BUGGERS
STUCK IN THAT LIVING HELL.
DON'T GO THERE FRIENDS,STAY AT HOME
HOLIDAY IN OZ
YOU DON'T NEED TO SEE NO OTHER PLACE
WE'RE IN THE BEST THERE WAS

SWEAT(NOT SWEET. NOT WET) SWEAT DREAM

2005-04-22T00:57:00.000-07:00

THIS POEM NEEDS NO ITRODUCTION OR EXPLANATION-----ENJOY (I HATE THAT,YOU KNOW ONE DAY I WENT INTO A SHOE SHOP AND GOT A PAIR OF BOOTS-UPON PAYING THE BLOKE IN THE SHOP SAID "ENJOY" ITS BAD ENOUGH IN A CAFE--BUT A SHOE SHOP?)

ROLLING SEAS,
WAVES,KISS THE SHORE.
BIRDS HOVERING ON HIGH
FOR MORSELS SCAN.
HORIZONS,HORIZONS SO FAR,
WHAT LIES BEYOND.
AM I LOST?
AM I AT ALL?
OR DO I JUST EXIST,IN ME.
ALAS,I KNOW NOT.

"TONE-----TONE--WAKE UP--WAKE UP"

"HUH?"
WOULD IT BE
THAT I SHOULD FLY?
COULD IT BE?
NO--NO NOT I

"TONE--WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?"

"HUH--WHAT?"

"COR BILMEY MATE,
WHATS GOING ON
I COULDN'T HAVE BEEN
ASLEEP FOR LONG"

"YOU WERE,
YOU WERE IN THE LAND OF NOD
RANTING A RAVING
YOU SILLY SOD."

"KNOW WHAT?
I DREAMED THE POETS CURSE
THE STUFF I HATE.
NON RHYMING VERSE.
IT KEPT ME AWAKE
HALF THE NIGHT,
WOKE UP IN A SWEAT
RECITING SHITE"

K.C ,THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER

2005-04-21T01:46:00.000-07:00

HAVE YOU EVER GIVEN A JOB TO A BLOKE THAT SAID HE COULD DO THIS AND THAT,JUST TO FIND OUT AFTER THE INTERVIEW,AND YOU'VE GIVEN HIM THE JOB-THAT IT WAS ALL BULLSHIT? THIS IS THAT STORY ON AN AUSTRALIAN STATION."THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER" WAS AN ORIGINAL BUSH POEM WRITTEN BY BANJO PATTERSON IN 1890-(THE SAME MAN THAT WROTE "WALTZING MATILDA") I MEAN HIM NO DISRESPECT WITH MY VERSE.

HE,WAS THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER.
AT LEAST,THATS WHAT HE THOUGHT.
THE MASTER OF THE EQUINE BEAST,
A KNOW ALL-----SELF TAUGHT.
HE HAD CHARGE OF THE STATION NAGS,
'CAUSE,THE COCKY,HE WAS "FULL"
TOO DRUNK AT K.C'S INTERVIEW
TO RECOGNISE THE "BULL".
FIRST MORNING IT WAS OBVIOUS
AT MUSTER HE WAS THERE,
THE FIRST HE HAD TO SADDLE UP
WAS THE STUBBORN OLD GREY MARE.
"DOGS MEAT" WHAT THEY CALLED HER
FOR SHE WAS AN EVIL BITCH
YOU COULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HER
WITHOUT A STOCK WHIP AND A TWITCH.
K.C WALKED TOWARDS HER
IN HAT AND DUNGAREES,
"HEY BOW LEG,WHERE'S YOUR SIX GUN ?"
THE SHEARERS SHOUT THERE TEASE.
UNAMUSED AND UNRUFFLED
HE SAUNTERED TO HIS FOE,
THEN JUST BETWEEN THREE PACES
THE OLD GREY MARE LET GO.
IN THE AIR SHE WENT,
AND ALL FOUR LEGS AT THAT,
MIDST THE DUST ,THE TURMOIL
OFF FLEW K.C'S HAT,
HE DROPPED THE PAD AND BRIDLE
AND TOOK OFF LIKE A NARK.
BUT THE OLD GREY MARE THOUGHT "THIS IS FUN"
AND CHASED HIM ROUND THE PARK.
THE LAUGHTER WAS TREMENDOUS
AS THE SHEARING GANG LOOKED ON,
BUT THINGS QUICKLY QUIETENED DOWN
WHEN THE COCKY CAME ALONG.
"WHATS GOIN ON ?" HE SCREAMED
"WHY'S NOT THE SHEARING STARTED?
WHY AREN'T THOSE HORSES SADDLED UP?
AND WHY NOT THE EWES ALL YARDED?"
THEN HE LOOKED OUT IN THE PADDOCK,
FIRST HE SAW THE MARE,
AND,THROUGH ALL THE DUST AND STUFF,
SAW K.C,STANDING THERE.
"OLD GIRL" HAD GOT HIM CORNERED,
HE WOULDN'T MOVE,NO WAY.
AND IF IT WASN'T FOR THE COCKY,
HE'D BE THERE TO THIS DAY.
NO LONGER IN THE STOCKMANS HAT,
NO MORE IN DUNGAREES,
ITS SEEMS WHILE "OLD GREY" WAS CHASING HIM
THEY'D FALLEN TO HIS KNEES.
"YOU SAID YOU WERE A HORSEMAN"
THE COCKY OUT HE CRIED.
"PICK UP YOUR SWAG,AND MOVE ON OUT"
FOR THE COCKY KNEW HE'D LIED.
"GET YOUR STUFF,GET OUT OF HERE,
FOR YOU THERE'LL BE NO PAY"
THE OLD GREY MARE,KICKED HIS REAR
AND HELPED HIM ON HIS WAY.
THE MASTER OF THE EQUINE BEAST,
A KNOW ALL ,SELF TAUGHT.
THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER,
AT LEAST,THATS WHAT HE THOUGHT.

THE COCKY'S DAUGHTER'S PET

2005-04-21T01:24:00.000-07:00

THIS IS ANOTHER POEM INSPIRED BY OLD JIM.FOR THOSE NOT LIVING IN AUSTRALIA IT MAY BE IMPORTANT TO KNOW,THAT THE COCKY IS THE STATION (FARM) BOSS &TUCKER IS FOOD.ON THESE STATIONS, THE COCKY LIVES WITH HIS FAMILY,AND AS ANYWHERE ELSE, KIDS FALL IN LOVE WITH PETS.ON A STATION USUALLY IT'S A LAMB OR YOUNG SHEEP,AND THEY MAKE SUCH A FUSS OF THE ANIMALS, THAT THEY BECOME IMPOSSIBLE TO HANDLE LIKE THE OTHER SHEEP.BUT LIKE ALL THE OTHER SHEEP,THEY NEED TO BE SHORN.

"ITS THE LAST ONE THAT I'LL SHEAR TODAY,
THEN I'M HANGING UP ME TOOL.
COME HERE YOU ROTTEN MONGREL THING
DON'T TAKE ME FOR A FOOL.
I'VE HAD TWO HUNDRED LIKE YOU THIS DAY
AND NOW ITS TIME FOR TUCKER'
I'M NOT GOING TO FIGHT WITH YOU ALL NIGHT
COME HERE YOU WOOLEY BUGGER."

THE COCKY'S DAUGHTERS PET,
THE ONE HE LET HER KEEP
IT ACTS MORE LIKE A PUPPY DOG,
THAN ALL THE OTHER SHEEP.
EVERY STATIONS GOT ONE,
OR TWO OR THREE OR MORE
AND I'M SUPPOSED TO SHEAR THEM,
WHAT DO THEY TAKE ME FOR?

"GET OVER HERE LAMB CHOPS,
I'M NOT CHASING AFTER YOU.
I'LL SLIT YER BLOODY THROAT YER THING
AND YOU'LL END UP IN A STEW.
PET OR NO PET,
MATTERS NOT TO ME
I'LL HAVE YER COAT LIKE ALL THE REST,
THEN I'M GOING TO HAVE ME TEA"

HALF THE NIGHT I CHASED THIS THING
ALL AROUND THE PARK
AND BY THE TIME I CAUGHT IT
IT WAS NEARER MORN THAN DARK.
BUT I CAUGHT IT,AND I CLIPPED IT
NO BEATING ME,YOU BET.
YEP,EVERY STATIONS GOT ONE,
THE COCKY'S DAUGHTERS PET.

THE STUBBORN OLD GREY MARE

2005-04-20T02:56:00.000-07:00

THE INCUBATOR OF MY SON,HAD A HORSE,THAT JUST DIDN'T LIKE TO GO ON THE HORSE-FLOAT AS WAS ITS OWNER,IT WAS STUBBORN AND ONLY WANTED TO DO WHAT SHE WANTED.THIS IS THE STORY.

THERE'S AN OLD GREY MARE IN THE PADDOCK,
THATS DECIDED SHE'S GOING TO STAY.
NO MATTER THE MEANS,AND WAYS WE TRY
SHE'S NOT GOING--NO WAY!
WE'VE POKED AND PRODDED WITH NEEDLES
AND FILLED HER FULL OF DRUGS,
BUT SHE JUST STANDS FIRM,WITH ROLLING EYES,
STARING,IS IF WE'RE MUGS.
WE'VE CRACKED THE WHIP,AND TUGGED WITH ROPES
AND STILL CAN'T MAKE HER NUDGE
YOU COULD PRIME HER ARSE WITH DYNOMITE
YET STILL SHE WOULDN'T BUDGE.

SO,WE BROUGHT THE EXPERTS IN,
FOR MANY A YEAR THEIR GLOAT
"THERE'S NEVER YET BEEN FOALED A HORSE
THAT WE COULDN'T GET ON A FLOAT."
THEY ARRIVED JUST AFTER SUNRISE,
THEIR CONFIDENCE WAS HIGH
BUT THEY HADN'T EVEN CAUGHT "OLD GIRL"
WITH HALF THE DAY GONE BY.
SHE GOT CAUGHT,WHEN SHE WANTED TO
AND ACTED QUIET AND TAME
LITTLE DID THE EXPERT KNOW
IT WAS ALL PART OF THE GAME.

SHE EYED THE FLOAT,FROM AFAR
THEN SAUNTERED UP,QUITE NEAR
THEN JUST WHEN THEY THOUGHT,THEY'D HAD HER BEST
ON BACK LEGS DID SHE REAR.
ONE WENT FLYING THIS WAY,
THE OTHER RAN OFF THAT.
THE OLD GREY MARE LET OUT A LAUGH,
AS ON THE THIRD ONE,THERE SHE SAT.

THE EXPERTS,THAT COULD NOT BE BEAT,
WHO SAID THEY WERE THE BEST,
TO THE OLD GREY MARE WERE NOTHING
WHEN SHE PUT THEM TO THE TEST.

WE DECIDED AFTER THAT
TO LET THE OLD GIRL STAY
'CAUSE SHE DIDN'T REALLY WANT TO GO,
OR ,SHE'D HAVE GONE ANYWAY.
BUT NOW,THE HOUSE IS UP FOR SALE
AND THE ADVERTISEMENT READS OF COURSE.
"THREE BEDROOMS,LOUNGE AND DINING ROOM,
AND A STUBBORN OLD GREY HORSE."

A MAN CAN'T DO RIGHT IF HE TRIES

2005-04-20T02:21:00.000-07:00

I WAS FIRST GIVEN THE NAME "MAD TONE" BY RICHARD, A FRIEND OF MINE.HE MEANT "MAD" IN THE "SILLY AS A HAT FULL OF ARSEHOLES" WAY--BUT MY WRITINGS, AS DALE ANOTHER FRIEND OF MINE HAS POINTED OUT--HAS BEEN "MAD" IN THE ANGRY KIND OF WAY.SO BARING ANY NATURAL OR WORLDLY BUGGER UPS-FOR A WHILE WE SHALL BE DOING MORE OF THE AUSTRALIAN BUSH TYPE POEMS.YOU MAY FIND (AS IN THIS ONE) JIM AND LORNE POP UP,THEY ARE A COUPLE OF LOVELY DOWN TO EARTH PEOPLE I MET SOME YEARS AGO.JIM WAS A SHEARER AND FATHER OF FOUR,WHO SPENT MUCH OF HIS CHILDRENS EARLY YEARS TRAVELLING AUSTRALIA SHEARING.LORNE THE DILIGENT WIFE SHE WAS,STAYED AT HOME AND RAISED THE KIDS.JIM WAS THE KIND OF BLOKE THAT WOULD GO TO THE RUBBISH DUMP (TIP) AND COME BACK WITH MORE THAN HE TOOK,MUCH TO LORNE'S DISGUST.JIM HASN'T BEEN WELL OF LATE AND I RE-DEDICATE THIS "BUSH POEM " TO HIM

"WHATS THE MATTER PET" SAID JIM,
AS HE STRUGGLES OUT OF BED.
"WHAT YOU DOIN,WHAT YA THINKIN?
TELL ME ,WHATS A STIRRING IN YER HEAD ?"

"OH,DON'T WORRY JIM,
IT WAS JUST A SILLY WISH
I WAS PICTURING IN THE FRONT YARD,
A NICE POND,WITH SOME FISH."

"THATS O.K PET,SHE'LL BE RIGHT,
NO SOONER SAID THAN DONE.
YOU KNOW I LIKE A CHALLENGE,
BESIDES,THIS COULD BE FUN,
AND I KNOW THE VERY THING",HE SAID
"WELL BUGGER,BLESS MY SOLE,
I'M POPPING DOWN THE ROAD PET,
GET THE SPADE AND DIG THE HOLE."

WELL,LORNE GOT OUT HER DIGGING BOOTS
AND HER BEST CAR BOOT SALE SHIRT.
SHE WAS MUD FROM ARSE TO ARMPIT
AS SHE STARTED DIGGING DIRT.
AND BY THE TIME OLD JIM GOT BACK
SHE'D A TRENCH FROM DRIVE TO PATH
"YOU POOR OLD BUGGER,SILLY THING,
THATS TOO BIG FOR THIS BATH".

"A BATH ?" SHE SAID"WHATS THAT FOR?
YOU SAID I'D GET A POND
YOU COULDN'T MAKE THAT THING LOOK RIGHT
WITH A BLOODY MAGIC WAND"
"NO WORRIES PET,SHE'LL BE RIGHT
GO GET THE FISHING POLE
AND WHILE YOU'RE BUSY DOING THAT.
I'LL FILL IN HALF THE HOLE".

"BUT I WANTED A FISH POND,
NOT A BLOODY BATH,
NOT SITTING IN MY FRONT YARD,
EVERYONE WILL LAUGH.
AND WHAT YA MEAN,THE FISHING POLE?
WHATS THAT ALL ABOUT?
I WANT IT FULL OF GOLDFISH
NOT CARP AND BLOODY TROUT."

"WELL,THERE'S NO PLEASING SOME,"SAID JIM
"I CAN'T DO RIGHT NO FEAR,
I'LL JUST HAVE TO THINK ON THIS,
GET A SMOKE,LETS HAVE A BEER".
AND JIM STILL SITS THERE THINKING
FIVE YEARS DOWN THE PATH,
ITS THE ONLY HOUSE IN THEIR STREET,
THATS GOT A FRONT YARD BATH

TRUST ME (AUSTRALIA DAY POEM)

2005-04-15T03:09:00.000-07:00

AUSTRALIA DAY HAS BEEN AND GONE ONCE AGAIN,AND EVERY YEAR ITS THE SAME-THE WHITE "INVADERS" CELEBRATE,AND THE BLACK (INDIGENOUS)COMMISERATE.

WE BLAME THE ABORIGINALS
FOR BEING BLACK,FOR DRINKING.
BUT DID WE EVER THINK TO STOP
AND WONDER WAHT THEY'RE THINKING?
TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO WE CAME
WITH SWORD AND GUN IN HAND.
DESTROYING,KILLING ALL IN FRONT
AS WE RAPED THEIR SACRED LAND.
WE TAUGHT THEM THAT THEIR WAY OF LIFE
WAS DIRTY,CRUDE AND WRONG
BUT STILL WE COULDN'T BREAK THEM,
THEIR LOVE OF OUR LAND TOO STRONG.
WE TAUGHT THEM HOW TO READ AND WRITE
GO TO CHURCHES,PRAY TO GOD.
WHILST WE ,IN OUR HEDONISTIC WAY
OVER THEIR VERY CULTURE TROD.
YES,WE TOOK THIS SUNBURNT COUNTRY
IN CRUEL,ONE SIDED FIGHTS.
NOT CARING FOR THEIR DREAMTIME,
NO BLACK COULD HAVE LAND RIGHTS.
BUT NOW,A TWINGE OF CONSCIENCE SHOWS,
WE WANT TO GIVE SOME BACK,
BUT THEY DON'T SEEM TO TRUST US,
OUR BROTHERS,FRIENDS,OUR BLACKS.

WILL YOU FOLLOW?

2005-04-15T02:42:00.000-07:00

A FRIEND OF MINE ONE DAY ASKED IF I COULD WRITE A POEM ABOUT GOD.WELL I THINK MOST OF MY POEMS ARE ABOUT A GOD OF SOME KIND,BUT I KNEW WHAT HE MEANT,SO I HAD A GO AT WRITING AS IF I TRULY BELIEVED THAT THERE JUST MIGHT BE A SECOND COMING SO I SUPPOSE ITS MORE ABOUT JESUS REALLY ISN'T IT?

I WISH JESUS COULD COME HERE TODAY,
AND IF HE DID,I WOULD SAY,
"ITS SO LONG WE'VE WAITED,
NOW YOU'VE COME WE'RE ELATED,
NOW PLEASE,HEAL THE WORLD IF YOU MAY.

WE REALLY NEED JESUS TODAY,
FOR THE WORLDS IN A TERRIBLE WAY,
IF WE DON'T PULL TOGETHER
IT COULD BE LOST FOREVER
AND THE ULTIMATE PRICE WE WILL PAY.

WOULD JESUS DO JUST ONCE MORE,
WHAT HE DID TWO THOUSAND BEFORE.
COULD HE TAKE ALL THE PIECES,
AND SHOW US WHAT PEACE IS
THEN RID US OF HATRED AND WAR.

IF JESUS CAME HERE TODAY,
WOULD HE TAKE JUST ONE LOOK,THEN AWAY
OR WOULD HE THINK THAT THERE COULD
BE A GLIMMER OF GOOD
THEN FIND SOME DISCIPLES AND STAY?

WILL YOU GO IF HE CALLS?
WILL YOU FOLLOW
TO PLACES YOU NEVER HAVE BEEN?
WILL YOU HELP RID THE WORLD OF ALL EVIL
AND GIVE OUR CHILDREN A PLACE THAT IS CLEAN.

The Angel Of Charters Towers

2005-04-15T02:17:00.000-07:00

Charters Towers is a town in Australia.Some years ago we had a nurse by the name of Pamela Rose who took it upon herself to do Gods work with the sick and dying in the local hospital-Following is my tribute to Pamela Rose who stood trial charged with the murder of one of her patients Ron Bucholtz.

SHE WAS THE ANGEL OF CHARTERS TOWERS,
SHE TOOK AWAY GODS POWERS,
VISITED THEM LATE,THROUGH THE NIGHT
SHE STROKED THEIR HEAD"IT'LL BE ALRIGHT"
BUT WHEN THEIR PAIN WAS TAKEN,
IT LEFT CHARTERS TOWERS SHAKEN
MANY PEOPLE LEFT TO SOB
"IS IT RIGHT TO DO GODS JOB?"

SOME PEOPLE SAY "ITS BEST TO BE
YOUR LIFE IN HANDS OF DESTINY,
NO THOUGHTS OF BEING WELL AGAIN
BUT THEY DON'T SEE THE PAIN,THE STRAIN
A PILLOW, CRADLE FOR THEIR HEAD
CAN'T MOVE,JUST WASTE AWAY IN BED.
TO SIT AND FEEL YOU BODY ROT
ALL THOUGHTS OF LOVE AND LIFE FORGOT.

YES,I BELIEVE IN DESTINY
AND PAMELA ROSE ,IS PART YOU SEE?
SHE COULDN'T SEE THEM LYING THERE
WHEN A MUCH MORE PEACEFUL ROAD COULD STEER.
SHE SET HERSELF AS JURY,JUDGE
A PUSH TO DEATH SHE GAVE A NUDGE
FOR RON BUCHOLTZ THERE'S NO MORE PAIN,
HIS FAMILY FREED,TO LIVE AGAIN

AND NOW HIS FEEBLE LIFE IS LOST
ITS PAMELA ROSE THAT PAYS THE COST.
STAYS IN HER HOME,SHE'S IN RETREAT
SHE CAN'T WALK DOWN THE CITY SREETS
THERE SHE STAYS,AND WON'T COME OUT
TO GIVE THEM MORE TO TALK ABOUT
BUT,PAMELA ROSE,DON'T GIVE UP THE FIGHT,
FOR THOSE WHO THINK YOU DID WHATS RIGHT.

AND PAMELA ROSE, SHOULD I EVER BE THIS ILL
I HOPE AND PRAY, YOU'RE NURSING STILL.

"MOTHER NATURE'S SCREAMING"

2005-03-31T01:05:00.000-08:00

FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS NOW.MANKIND HAS BEEN RIPPING FROM ON TOP, AND FROM WITHIN MOTHER EARTH,AND GIVING NOTHING BACK.MAYBE SOME OF THE THINGS HAPPENING AROUND THE WORLD ,TELL US THAT MOTHER NATURE MAY HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH.HERE IS MY SONG.

CH.
I HEAR MOTHER NATURE SCREAMING
"HELP,I'VE HAD ENOUGH.
YOU'VE RAPED AND SPOILED AND PILLAGED
NOW I'M GOING TO GET TOUGH.
I HELPED,WHILE YOU WERE GOOD TO ME
BUT YOU'VE TAKEN ALL I HAD
AND THE ONLY THINGS YOU'VE GIVEN BACK
HAVE SENT THE ACRES BAD"
1)
WELL I GUESS WE SHOULDN'T BLAME HER,
AS CHILDREN,WE'RE NOT GOOD.
WE HAVN'T DONE AS WE'VE BEEN TOLD
THOUGH WE KNOW WE SHOULD.
SHE GAVE US AIR THAT WE COULD BREATHE
GOOD LAND THAT WE COULD TILL
BUT WE POISONED EVERYTHING SHE GAVE
AND THE RIVERS ALL RUN STILL
CH.
2)
TWENTIETH CENTURY,MEACHANICAL MAN
WE STRIPPED HER BARE TO SWELTER.
FOR SHE HAD ALWAYS BEEN SO STRONG,
GAVE OUR FATHERS- FOOD AND SHELTER.
SHE'S BEEN HERE SINCE GODS CREATION
A MILLION ZILLION YEARS
BUT ITS ONLY SINCE WE MODERN MAN,
WE'VE HEARD OUR MOTHERS TEARS
CH.
3)
"IS IT TOO LATE,ARE WE FINISHED?"
AT LAST THE PEOPLE CRY.
"WE'RE SORRY MOTHER,FOR WHAT WE'VE DONE,
CAN WE MAKE IT BETTER IF WE TRY?"
WE'VE GOT TO LISTEN TO MOTHER NATURE
FOR,NO FUTURE IS OUR CHOICE.
BUT THINGS ARE NEVER GOING TO CHANGE,
TILL WE'RE SCREAMING WITH ONE VOICE.
CH
WE HEAR MOTHER NATURE SCREAMING
HELP WE'VE HAD ENOUGH.
WE'VE RAPED AND SPOILED AND PILLAGED
WE'RE NOT SUPRISED YOU'RE GETTING TOUGH
YOU HELPED WHILE WE WERE GOOD TO THEE,
BUT WE'VE TAKEN ALL YOU HAD.
AND THE ONLY THINGS WE'VE GIVEN BACK
HAVE SENT YOUR ACRES BAD. SORRY--SORRY--SORRY

TORTURED FROM THEIR BIRTH (STARVATION)

2005-03-24T00:45:00.000-08:00

Seems a bit daft to me,European Nations stockpiling food whilst in other lands they can't get the next meal--this wonderfull world has its gardens and it has its sand pits-and I think its time we set out to make much better use of the gardens to help those living in the sand pits

THE WORLD'S A FUNNY PLACE,YOU KNOW
I'VE COME TO THIS CONCLUSION.
AND MANY DREAMS OF LOVE AND PEACE
AN OPTICAL ILLUSION.
I'VE SEEN THOSE SMALL,POT BELLIED KIDS
WITH HUNGER IN THIER EYES.
I'VE SEEN THEM HOLDING OUT THEIR HANDS
AND HEARD THEIR MOTHERS CRIES.
A GRAIN OF RICE,A PIECE OF CRUST,
ANYTHING WILL DO,
WHILE RICH MEN SIT,AND PLAY THEIR GAMES
DON'T GIVE A DAMN,ITS TRUE.
A FAMILY WALKS A THOUSAND MILES
FOR A SLICE OF BREAD,AND WATER.
A FATHER SITS,HE STROKES THE HEAD
OF HIS SICK AND DYING DAUGHTER.
THESE,ARE OUR FAMILIES CHILDREN
TORTURED FROM THEIR BIRTH.
OUR BROTHERS AND OUR SISTERS
PRECIOUS CREATURES OF OUR EARTH.
I REALLY FIND IT DIFFICULT
AND JUST CAN'T UNDERSTAND
WHY WE ALL CAN'T GET TOGETHER
ON THIS VAST AND FRUITFULL LAND,
TO SHARE THE SPOILS OF LABOUR
AND HELP FULFILL THEIR NEED.
FORGET OUR RACE,OUR DIFFERENCES,
SHOW PITY , LOVE , NOT GREED.

WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR(STREET KIDS)

2005-03-24T00:20:00.000-08:00

It seems everyone I know has a story to tell regarding a family member or a close friend that has children that got caught in the dreaded drug trap.Lucky for me it hasn't hit too close to home,but it is obvious as we walk our streets and see the kids-at all hours of the day and night,wandering and lost.Where does the help come from?I suppose we do have to do all we can to stop the flow of drugs into our country,but meanwhile there's much work to do helping these kids.

IN QUIET CITY ALLEYS.AWAY FROM THE LIGHT,
OR ALONE IN THE PARK,LIVE THE KIDS OF THE NIGHT.
FROM BROKEN DOWN FAMILIES,OR PARENTS THAT BEAT,
THESE PLACES GIVE US,OUR KIDS OF THE STREET.
THEY THINK WE DON'T LOVE THEM,SO THEY HAVE TO BE TOUGH.
BUT TO LEAVE THEM OUTCAST,JUST ISN'T ENOUGH,
IN GRAVE MORAL DANGER,FROM PERVERTS AND THUGS
AND MORONS THAT CREEP THE STREETS SELLING DRUGS.
THESE ARE OUR CHILDREN,NOT SOMEONE'S MISTAKE
TO SHOW THAT WE CARE,JUST WHAT DOES IT TAKE?
TWELVE YEAR OLD GIRLS ,WAIT ON CORNERS FOR MEN,
A BOY,THE SAME AGE IN A STRANGERS CAR THEN
DISAPEARS OUT OF SITE FOR WHO KNOWS WHAT FOR,
COULD YOU SEE YOUR CHILD ANOTHER MANS WHORE?
POLICE SIRENS WAIL, AND SCREAM DOWN THE STREET,
ONE MORE OF OUR KIDS,LIE DEAD AT THEIR FEET.
SOUP KITCHENS ARE FULL,BUT NOT ALL GET FED
QUEUES AT CHARITY HOMES,IN NEED OF A BED.
THOSE THAT MISS OUT-- RETURN TO THE PARK,
ALONE,TIRED AND FRIGHTENED,OUT THERE,IN THE DARK.
THEY ALL MISS THE LOVE THAT A PARENT SHOULD GIVE
WARMTH,COMFORT AND PEACE,FROM THE PLACE THAT WE LIVE
WHERE LIES THERE FUTURE, AND WHAT LAYS IN STORE
THEY NEED OUR HELP-----WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR ?

DIGGER 2004 (ANTI IRAQ WAR)

2005-03-24T00:09:00.000-08:00

Through the years Australia has always been so willing to answer the call,to go to battle in wars that have very rarely reached our shores.We've sent away hundreds of thousands of our best and bravest men,to shed their blood on far away battlefields--Why ?

THE BOY STOOD ON THE WARSHIP DECK,
TEARS ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEKS.
SADLY WAVING,TO HIS FAMILY
TOO AFRAID TO SPEAK.
"HE'S OFF TO WAR YOU KNOW,
THIS FIGHTING MAN FROM AUS,
HE DON'T KNOW WHY HE'S GOING THERE,
HE'S JUST GOING THERE-- BECAUSE (BECOZ)
WE'LL STAND BY OUR YANKEE FRIENDS
YES,WE'LL PROTECT THEIR OIL
NOT CARING FOR THE LIVES OF THEM,
OR FAMILIES THEY COULD SPOIL.

THESE "BRAVE YOUNG MEN FROM AUS"
NOT KNOWING WHATS IN STORE
AS THEIR SHIPS STEAM FROM THE HARBOUR
TO ANOTHER FOREIGN SHORE.
WE'VE BEEN THIS WAY BEFORE YOU KNOW,
AND ARE JUST TOO BLIND TO SEE,
HERE COMES ANOTHER VIETNAM
ONE MORE GALLIPOLI

PROGRESS

2005-03-07T00:46:00.000-08:00

Gee we've come along as a civilisation in our ways of being able to kill,from the days when Ug would belt Og over the head with a stick,to the days now when some chicken livered arsehole that wouldn't stand up in a one on one fight,can blow up a nation on the other side of the world,I ask the question--is that progress ?

IN DAYS OF CAVES,AND DINOSAUR,
WHEN PEOPLE WENT TO WAR,
THEY'D HIT THEIR FOES WITH STICKS AND CLUBS
TIL BLOODIED,RED AND SORE.
AS TIME PROGRESSED,WHEN MEN GOT DRESSED
THEY BOWS AND ARROWS FOUND,
FIRED FROM TREES,OR ON THEIR KNEES
THEIR ENEMIES HIT THE GROUND.
WITH METAL,CAME THE MIGHTY SWORD,
FLASHING SABRE,BAYONET,
WITH VICTIM CRASHING TO THE FLOOR,
WHEN FLESH AND IRON MET

MAN GOT CLEVER,AS YEARS WENT ON,
WE MADE CANNONS AND GUN POWDER,
SAILING SEAS TO OTHER LANDS
AS BATTLE SOUNDS GREW LOUDER.
ON THE SEVEN SEAS THE CONFLICT RAGE
WITH CANNON BALLS SHIPS SANK,
WHILST ON LAND ARMIES WENT,
WITH RIFLES AND ARMOURED TANK

MAN COULD NEVER LIVE IN PEACE,
AS COUNTRIES FOUGHT WITH OTHERS,
AND TO THE AIR THE FIGHTING WENT
THANKS TO THE SMART WRIGHT BROTHERS.
MACHINE GUNS RATTLED IN THE SKY
AS FOLKS LAY IN THEIR BED
BOMBS DROPPED FROM A THOUSAND FEET
HUNDREDS LYING DEAD.
THERE'S MISSILES FLYING BY THEMSELVES
THERE'S THOSE THAT SPREAD DISEASE
AND THOSE THAT KILL PEOPLE,
BUT LEAVE BUILDINGS,AND THE TREES.
THEN WE GOT THE BIG ONE
WHAT A RIPPER,WHAT A SCREAMER,
A FLATTENED CITY IN ONE GO-
GONE NAGASAKI,HIROSHIMA.

NOW THE WORLD ALL LIVES IN FEAR
OF THAT LAST AND FINAL DAY.
THE MUSHROOM CLOUDS LOOM OVERHEAD,
AS WE ALL ARE SWEPT AWAY.
WE SURE HAVE MADE SOME PROGRESS
SINCE THE DAYS OF CAVES
BUT THAT JUST SHOWS THE STUPID WAY
"INTELLIGENT" MAN BEHAVES.
IN THOSE DAYS,IF MAN WAS ANGERED
IT WAS ONE ON ONE FRONTATION
NOW,WE'RE IN THE HANDS OF LUNATICS,
A RED BUTTON RULES THE NATION.

BLOODY TOOTHACHE

2005-03-07T00:34:00.000-08:00

I reckon that toothache and earache are the two worst aches there are,both as unbearable as the other,I had one such toothache that drove me to insanity and thus this poem

I'VE HAD THIS BLOODY TOOTHACHE,
ITS DRIVING ME INSANE,
NO SOONER I GET RID OF IT,
THE BASTARDS BACK AGAIN.
I COULDN'T EAT AT BREAKFAST
MY LUNCH I COULDN'T TAKE
AND MY WILDEST DREAM AT THIS TIME
IS TO EAT A PIECE OF STEAK.
BUT THIS BLOODY ROTTEN, FRIGGIN TOOTH
WON'T LET ME TAKE A BITE
IT HURT ME ALL OF YESTERDAY
AND HALF THE BLOODY NIGHT.
I SIT HERE NUMB WITH CLOVE OIL
CAN'T FEEL ME FACE OR TONGUE
BUT THIS BLOODY ROTTEN BASTARD TOOTH
STILL THE MONGREL STUNG.
IF IT STILL HURTS TOMORROW
I'M CLIMBING ON THE ROOF
THIS PAIN WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME
THIS BLOODY ROTTEN TOOTH.
I'M HALF JUNKED UP WITH ASPRIN
AND OTHER BLOODY STUFF
BUT TRY AND TELL THIS BLOODY TOOTH
ITS E-BLOODY NOUGH
THEY CAN KILL THE PAIN OF PERIODS
AND IT WORKS,THERES NO DENIALS
HEART TRANSPLANTS--NO PROBLEMS
THEY CAN EVEN CURE PILES.
BUT THIS BLOODY ROTTEN TOOTHACHE
THATS DRIVING ME INSANE
NO SOONER I GET RID OF IT-
THE BASTARDS BACK AGAIN.

WHEN THE WORLD WAS GREEN

2005-02-28T01:52:00.000-08:00

We humans made the mess of the world that it is today,and for all the stupid planning,raping and pillage we have done,we now pay the price,but long ago ,when the world was green----aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh

WHEN THE WORLD WAS GREEN,
AND NOT OBSCENE.
NOT COVERED WITH MANS SCARS,
BEFORE THE DAYS OF BIG MACHINES
OF TRAINS AND MOTOR CARS
A TIME WHEN WE COULD WALK AROUND
BREATHING IN FRESH AIR.
WHEN CHILDREN WOULD ALL LIVE THEIR LIFE
WITH NO NUCLEAR FEAR.
WHEN MAN WOULD TAKE FROM THE LAND
ONLY WHAT HE'D NEED.
BUILD HIS HOUSE,AND LEAVE THE REST
BEFORE INDUSTRIAL GREED.
NO THOUGHTS OF BIG MOTOR WAYS
CUTTING THROUGH OUR HILLS.
NO SPREAD OF AIDS,NO SEX DISEASE
OR ANTI-BABY PILLS
NO RUNNING FOR ABORTION
NO RIPPING LIFE APART
OR NIPPING NATURE IN THE BUD
BEFORE A LIFE CAN START.
NO WAY,WERE WE A NUMBER
PRIOR TO COMPUTER AGE
BEFORE THE DAYS OF BLACK AND WHITE
ANTI-APARTHIED RAGE.
NO SEX ,NO DRUGS OR ROCK AND ROLL
NO QUEUING FOR THE DOLE
NO LIBERAL,LABOUR ,DEMOCRATS
NO VOTING AT THE POLL.
THE DAYS WHEN LIFE WAS SIMPLE
THE WORLD UNTOUCHED AND CLEAN
THE TIME BEFORE MAN CAME ALONG
WHEN THE WORLD WAS GREEN.

To The Makers Of Purex Toilet Tissue

2005-02-28T00:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Customer service department.
I wish to discuss with you my recent purchase of a six-pack of your Purex "Strong on Softness Toilet Tissue"
I must at this point state to you,that I am a folder of loo paper,rather than a scruncher.So therfore can attest to the number of sheets required so as not to be polishing ones bum with ones hand.Which brings me to my first point.Whilst using a double fold(threfore 4 layers)I was very impressed with the softness of your paper--until I realised that the softness was due to the soap I use on my hands,rather than the softness of your product---straight through it no less--thanks. Points out of ten? strength zero--softness--zero.
Your product information tells us that it is bio-degradable.But at what point is it supposed to "bio-degrade ?" I thought maybe when it hit the water--but no,not your product,it starts to bio-degrade as soon as it comes into contact with an arse.I would like to point out to the normal user,that is too soon.
Whilst I do not expect to be able to wash,spindry and re-use your product.I do expect it to be able to carryout the very menial task of wiping my bum.without it needing to be the thickness of the Sydney Yellow Pages. Hoping you can Rectumfy the situation------yours Sincerely Tony Norman

AN ODE TO MALCOLM

2005-02-26T23:45:00.000-08:00

My Dear Friend Malcolm in his early forties and having his first mid-life crisis has joined the Australian Army Reserves

MY ODE TO COPORAL MANNERING ABBOTT.

"Corporal Mannering Abbott ?"
"YES SIR,YES SIR,"
"Attention if you please,
stand up straight,adjust your dress,
stop shaking at the knees."
"YES SIR,YES SIR."

"You're a pretty boy,aren't you Abbott"
"YES SIR,YES SIR."
"Did you know,we're all a little gay,
how will you cope,if you drop the soap.
Abbott--what will you say?"
"YES SIR,YES SIR"

"Think you're tough,Do you Abbott?"
"YES SIR,YES SIR"
"Well,get your rifle when bugle toots
Cause you're the man for Afghanistan,
Osama's shaking in his boots."
"YES SIR, YES SIR"

"High up here,isn't it Abbott?"
"YES SIR,YES SIR"
"Have you ever jumped before?
just follow me ,go one two three,
then out the fu+kin door"
"YES SIR,YES SIR"

"Abbott?"
"YES SIR,YES SIR"
"Pull your cord,you're falling much too quick
Hey recruit,wheres your parachute?
You aint got one,have you prick?"
"NO SIR, S H I T SIR"

ODE -TO THE FOX

2005-02-23T22:50:00.000-08:00

"NA NA-NA NA NA "
SAID THE FOX,TO THE BEAGLE CROWD.
"WE'LL GET YOU,YOU BASTARD!"
"AH AH--YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED.
AND THEM ON HORSES,WHO SIT UP THERE.
WHO THINK THEY'RE HIGHER CLASSES,
NO TALLY HO-OR OFF WE GO
GO SHOVE YOUR BUGLES UP YOUR ARSES.
CAUSE WE ARE FOXES,WILD AND FREE
BY A PARLIAMENTARY STROKE OF LUCK
WE HAVE NO FEAR,THANKS TONY BLAIR"
OOOPS--RUN OVER BY A TRUCK.

YOU SUB-HUMAN PIGS

2005-02-22T23:20:00.000-08:00

HOW SAD IT IS .THE THE PEOPLE CHILDREN ARE TAUGHT TO TRUST,ARE VERY OFTEN THE ARSEHOLES THAT DO THE HARM IN THE FIRST PLACE-WE ENTRUST OUR CHILDREN TO MEN OF THE CLOTH.TEACHERS.SCOUT MASTERS AND EVEN THOSE THAT SIT IN JUDGEMENT ON OTHERS THAT DO CRIME,SEEM TO HAVE MORE THAN AVERAGE NUMBERS AMONG THEM THAT INTERFERE WITH CHILDREN--YOU PIGS.

YOU PIGS,
YOU DIRTY LOW LIFE PIGS.
SOME OF YOU IN GODLY GOWNS
AND SOME IN JUSTICE WIGS.
YOU HIDE BEHIND THESE CLOAKS OF HONOUR,
PUTTING FEAR INTO THE HEADS
OF ALL THESE POOR YOUNG CHILDREN
THAT YOU LURE INTO YOUR BEDS.

YOU USE THEM,YOU ABUSE THEM
YOU DIRTY SAD SICK SOD
WHATS MORE,THE NERVE TO TELL THEM
"YOUR DOING IT FOR GOD"
I HEARD YOU,I HEARD YOU TELL HIM
"DO YOU BELIEVE IN JESUS?
WELL COME HERE SON,DON'T TELL YOUR MUM
JUST DO AS FATHER PLEASES."

"DO YOU SWEAR ,TO TELL THE TRUTH ?" YOU ASK,
AS THEY STAND THERE IN YOUR COURT.
BUT YOU'RE THE ONE SHOULD BE ON TRIAL
ONE DAY,I SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT.
CAUSE,YOU LIKE LITTLE BOYS I HEAR
AND THOUGH YOU'RE OLD AND FRAIL
YOU MAKE THEIR LIFE A LIVING HELL,THREATS LIKE
"I'LL PUT YOUR DAD IN JAIL"

NOW,THEIR LIVES ARE IN RUINS.
AND, I BEGRUDGE EACH BREATH YOU TAKE
YOU ROTTEN PIECES OF HUMAN TRASH
-- JUST DIE, FOR GOD-NESS SAKE

YOU'LL GET YOURS YA BASTARD

2005-02-21T00:18:00.000-08:00

SOME OF THE CRIME WE SEE AND HERE OF THESE DAYS MAKE ME SICK.LITTLE OLD LADIES AND MEN LEFT BETTERED AND BRUISED BY THUGS A QUARTER OF THEIE AGE--WHAT A HERO THEY MUST THINK THEY ARE,OR HOW SADLY DESPERATE ARE THEY? BUT,IF THE DRUGS THEY FILL THEMSELVES WITH DON'T KILL THEM FIRST,THEY TOO WILL GET OLD ONE DAY.

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE,
AND I SAW WHAT YOU DID.
YOU BEAT UP THAT OLD BOY
FOR A FEW LOUSY QUID.

OH! YOU NEEDED IT FOR DRUGS YOU SAY
AND SOCIETY IS TO BLAME.
CAUSE WHEN YOU WENT TO SCHOOL I HEAR
THEY WOULDN'T LET YOU PLAY THE GAME.
YOUR MUM DIDN'T LOVE YOU
SUFFERED FATHERS ABUSES
IS THAT IT MATE?
ARE THEY YOUR EXCUSES?

YOU ROTTEN USELESS BASTARD
WE ALL KNOW RIGHT FROM WRONG.
BUT THE JUDGE,WELL HE WON'T LOCK YOU UP
WHERE WE ALL KNOW YOU BELONG.
HE'LL LISTEN TO YOU CRY AND WAIL
THEN HE'LL SLAP YOU ON THE WRISTS
AND YOU'LL BE ON YOUR WAY AGAIN
TO KISS OLD MEN WITH FISTS.

WELL,I'M REALLY SORRY MATE
THAT JUST WON'T WASH WITH ME.
CAUSE I'VE HEARD IT ALL BEFORE YOU KNOW
AND I'M SICK OF IT YOU SEE.
BUT,THERE IS ON SOLE REDEEMING FACT
ITS LIFE'S JUSTICE ,IN A WAY
YOU SEE, YOU USELESS PIECE OF HUMAN DIRT,
YOU'LL BE OLD ONE DAY----

AND I HOPE YOU GET YOURS. TONY NORMAN FEB 2005

THE STATE OF ANGER

2005-02-21T00:06:00.000-08:00

DON'T YOU WONDER HOW COME SOME PEOPLE CAN GET UP IN THE MORNING GET THEIR FAMILY TOGETHER AND GO OFF TO THE BEACH FOR THE DAY,YET OTHERS CAN GET UP,PLAN AND SCHEME TO GO OUT AND KILL PEOPLE,OR CONVINCE THEIR CHILDREN TO STRAP BOMBS TO THEIR BODIES AND GO AND BLOW THEMSELVES UP IN A CROWD OF PEOPLE FOR THE REWARD OF SEVENTY VIRGINS IN HEAVEN.GIVE ME THE BEACH AND ONE GOOD OLD SLAPPER DOWN HERE ON EARTH-THAT'LL DO ME.

I'D LIKE TO BUILD A BASKET,
TO ENCOMPASS ANGER STATE,
AND KEEP ALL THE PEOPLE IN IT
WHO ONLY LIVE FOR HATE.

I'D LET THEM HAVE THEIR LITTLE WORLD
AND THEY STAY OUT OF MINE.
AND IF I NEVER HEARD "OSAMA " AGAIN
WELL THAT WOULD BE JUST FINE.
JUST LET THEM LIVE ,THE WAY THEY LIVE
SURE,THEIR INNOCENTS WILL DIE
BUT THEY DON'T WANT TO LIVE LIKE US
AND DON'T EVEN WANT TO TRY.

SO ,I CALL UPON THE FENCERS
AND THE WEAVERS OF THE LAND,
TO GATHER AROUND THE ANGER STATE
WITH MATERIALS AT HAND
AND FENCE AND WEAVE,AND FENCE AND WEAVE
TILL THEY'VE FENCED THE BUGGERS IN.
AND THEN PERHAPS THE REST OF US
CAN HAVE SOME PEACE BEGIN

ALLOW NO STAMPS OF VISA
FROM WITHIN THE ANGER STATE.
LET ALL THE SOLDIERS GO BACK HOME
AND LEAVE THEM TO THEIR FATE.
PUT AWAY THE WARSHIPS
AND THE BOMBERS IN THE HANGER.
THEN MARK IN BLACK,ON EVERY MAP
"NO ENTRY,STATE OF ANGER" TONY NORMAN FEB 2005

2005-02-12T15:44:00.000-08:00

Mad Tone Aussie Bush Poet

What Became Of Yesturday ?

2005-02-11T23:35:00.000-08:00

Do you remember when you were a kid? do you /wasn't life better in those days.and then we went and stuffed it all by growing up.Not that I regret growing up.the alternative wasn't very attractive,but life was fun,when I was young.

What became of yesturday?
the days when life was fun
each day a new adventure
long ago,when I was young.
When the yard was Sherwood Forest
Dad's shed the Nottingham Castle
the girl nextdoor Maid Marion
Me ? Robin Hood the rascal
my brother was The Sheriff
and we,for the Maiden fought
but we would both try to lose,for
from the winner, a kiss she sought.
and mum would tuck us into bed
the day too short it seems
and night had come to quickly
twas now the time for dreams.
When we awoke next morning
the forest was no more
instead the Arizona desert
where were trees the day before.
And my brother the sheriff,was long gone
as he jumped out of bed
Whooping ,wailing and screeching
with feathers in his head.
Robin Hood looked in his mirror
and behind him saw with fright
and quickly grabbed his six gun
There were "Injuns" there to fight
and mum would tuck us in our bed
our guns still in our hands
for night had come too quickly
out in the desert sands
"Get Up, get up" said Mum
"Jill is here to play
Her Mum has gone into town
and she is here to stay"
"But what about the Injuns"
I said reaching for my gun
just like a silly sissie girl
to come and spoil our fun.
Dad shed todays a hospital
midst our grizzles and our curses
for the only game she knows to play
is Doctors,Babys and Nurses
"Come on Patients,into bed"
Oh this game the worst
"I'll show you mine,if you show me yours"
"No,you show me yours first"
and Mum would tuck us in our beds
and ,in my prayers I'm wishing
that my friend Jill,would be well soon
for part of her was missing
What did become of yesturday,
the days when life was fun.
a life full of adventure
long ago,when I was young .