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ASF Poetry Thread

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THE BACKYARD OF BROKEN DREAMS

the block was a full quarter acre
and the house built on weatherboard themes
a boat in the backyard half finished
awaiting completion it seems
twas sold four times in one decade
and the boat progressed little more
it progressed just a little past wreckage
or a badly messed “bottom drawer”

each person who passed by dreamed bigtime
of sailing the world in this boat
they dabbled a few hours of "jigtime"
but never “took project by throat”
they saw her with sails full feathered
they saw her chine carving the sea
they dreamed of her climbing to weather
they dreamt that these dreams would be

and year after year that potential
remained in their eyes just a gleam
that “world dream” so quintessential
would slowly run out of steam
ahh things that were inconsequential
would slowly strangle their schemes
... in the boring old house residential
with its backyard of broken dreams
 
HAS THE WORLD GONE BI-POLAR

Why aren't penguins eaten by polar bears
because they are poles apart
but slowly the gap between appears
to be growing as icebergs depart
things are warming up year after greenhouse year
whether man's blame is "part-a" or "whole-a"
but to sit on our hands and do nothing, I fear,
simply proves that mankind is bi-polar. :eek3:
 
I WONDER WHY QUESTIONABLE CURLEY THEORIES GRAVITATE TO USA

He could have gone north to New Guinea
with its Adam and Eve of bananas
but the crowds who'd believe him are mini
praps a dog and a few iguanas :bananasmi

Could have preached amongst Queensland lantanas
showing Japanese tourists "The Way"
“Camp Pie to the God of bananas!”
hey come back, not so fast, hey please stay. :headshake

Could have preached amongst Kiwi sheep farmers
(which is where his delusions began)
today , “Mr hand-glove-bananas”
tomorrow I’m “come arti-chokes Man” :sheep:

But no, he took up God’s harness
(there were too many bills to pay)
- if you want to go big time bananas
go bananas bigtime USA!! :silly:

now he takes down his royal banana
and he goes to the lakeside to pray
and on weekends goes Copacabana
and he’s going (financially) ok :bandit:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLqQttJinjo
 
He spent his life, in prayer, in god like repose,
having god, in childhood, stuffed up his nose,
the more he thought, the sadder he became
and in time, thank god, forgot his dam name.

For god is within, and has no repose, no name,
it is you who are god, and god is inside, your veins,
followers of god are followers in vain, yes, no name
Remember, god is not outside, but inside remains.

Inside, search thee not outside - by noirua


,
 
Why don't you buggers start your own Poetry forum! it looks like on of the busiest threads in ASF.
 
hey Trade,
a) we'd be the only ones there
b) these are the only posts 100% guaranteed not to ramp, and
c) at least a couple of people seem to read em occasionally

IN SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD

Were I you, I would say " my shout!! I'll pay!!"
Were you I, you'd reply " that's fair, I bludiwell shouted yesterday"
 
IN SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD IN A SCOTTISH PUB

If I were you, I would shout
"THIS ONE'S MINE"
If you were me, you'd say
"bout bludy time"
If I were you, I'd say
"HERE'S YOUR FIVE BUCKS"
If you were me, you'd say
"thanks very much"

If I were you I'd say
"MY TURN AGAIN?"
I'd probly say " yep,
and make mine a ten"
you'd probly say "this rate !!
I'm gonna be POOR !!!"
I'd probly say "DITTO, but
....
what're friends for "
 
What's that 2020: "Guaranteed not to ramp", hmmmmmmmmm:

I rode on my skooter and battery became flat,
just as power ran out, Oh no, not a ramp,
as I thought further, and invested more
a new battery, yes, advice, charge the ramp.

As I approached, the ramp rose ever higher,
fell back, stop ramping, cannot reach the floor
and invested even more, bigger battery and
advised more, charge the ramper for the floor.

Fortunately, Joe Blow arrived and deleted the ramper
and it was lowered, charged the ramp once more,
they gave advice on the run up, charge again
thank god, no ramper anymore, I reached the floor.

Defeated the ramper - by noirua
 
WIDE RANGING THOUGHTS WHILST STUCK IN A TRAFFIC JAM.

some bastard is barping , we’re stuck in this jam !
barping his horn in this... cram a la cram !
Ahh in times like these I will let my thoughts fly
praps traffic awaits some jam session on high?

I was thinking I’d like my ashes stirred
with the waves of the ocean to travel the world
be that as it may be, as Gods may decide
for some future low day, and some future high tide

swim with plankton adrift in the dancing sea
with her many mad moods yet so windswept and free
praps to old coral islands I missed whilst alive
maybe saunter half lost in a last scuba dive

praps flash past Cape York in some wild tidal rips
praps search through the cabins of old sunken ships
praps ride in the bow-waves of native canoes
or some ferries of Greece?, or some QE2’s ?

there’s that bastard blasting his horn again
ahh back to “eyes glassed” – and this mental pen
maybe check out some islands where beauties swim nude
maybe pause in the shallows and soak up the mood.

praps check out the bright lights of Capetown and Spain
praps surf through the Suez , then swim round again
praps play with the dolphins on steep cresting waves
praps broach with a whale beside white passing sails.

praps swirling with tuna to strange seagulls' tunes
as first sunshine's sunbeams are dimming the moon's
(praps served with some mustard inside some damned prawn !!
praps choke that loud bastard who’s honking that horn !! )

ahhh there’s two things await that we cannot deny
of the lamb and the shepherd - both born - both will die
and .. Apollo will one day explode in the sky
and my friends on that day twill be one great.... lamb’s fry?.

on that day my friends, though our ashes may try
even ash will burn - even ash will fry
 
Noi, here's one in reply to the question of ramping...

we all ramp (short of lied) wishful thoughts time to time
watch this bludger share slide !! , watch this beauty stock climb !!
but to go out "offroading" with freedom to roam
this thread comes prepacked with a licence to poem. (**)

(**) poem = noun, but in this case used as a verb, under poetic licence to the "ASF Poetry Thread"
 
Right 2020:

A poem a day keeps apples away
and the doctor reads poems too,
he sent me an apple to cure my flue
and, yes, I sent him a poem or two.
 
noi
if an apple a day keeps the doctor away
and their cores are the cause of "good life"
does that mean if the wife of said doctor will "play"
you'll have tons of fun with his wife?
 
PRIORITIES FOR THE MAN ON THE LAND

I plan to go plough some paddocks today
and to furrow from five from five
but bugger the bank and the bills to pay
I PLAN TO COME HOME ALIVE
and damn ploughing mountain sides - stick to the meadow
let’s call it a risk assessment
cos I don’t want my mountain bride end up my widow
cos we’re mutually our best investment .
 
No point ploughing a meadow at all
if in the end, you find, no rain doth fall,
five to five, seven to six, a very big risk
no mountain bride and no crop to pick.

Don't blame the Bank or mountain side
it's not there fault where you reside,
if you plough the paddocks, dawn to dusk
pray for rain or you go bust.

No rain and busted - by noirua
 
misunderstandings and hard times abound
am I planting a crop or just fooling around
but you're right about praying (though I’d rather get pissed)
to become - both rained on - and opti-mist. (?)
 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Booligal,_New_South_Wales
A. B. 'Banjo' Paterson (1864–1941) wrote a poem called Hay and Hell and Booligal [16] about the district. (concluding lines)

- apologies to anyone from Booligal who might not want to be reminded of this poem .
I was actually looking for a poem about Wilcannia - the search continues
 
If anyone is interested in the story behind Walzing Matilda, then here it is. (see bottom of page 66 and top of page 67 in particular

http://ro.uow.edu.au/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1007&context=unity


 
IS THE AUSSIE IN THE WARZONE, OR THE WARZONE IN THE MAN?.

Did I hear you right there sonny, you were saying as we marched
where is Martin Place’s dunny? pass the parchment? you were parched?
sorry son I’m hard of hearing, its my eardrums blown away,
into fear? or interfering?, in some war zone miles away.

Bloocher boots are great for marching don’t you think, or praps you don’t
hey they work ok on asphalt, - when you get in mud they won't
padre's prayers to help anoint us so we'd face some foe annoyed,
boys were all we were back then, my boy, with crazed young hopes were buoyed.

Mortified or mortar fired? canonised or blown apart?
bain of mankind , bayonets? have a heart or had a heart?
overhead heat seeking missiles ? missus back home seeking warm?
war the ugly side of humans ? peace the humane side of storm?

pass a round for Betsy here? naval guns or navel wound?
pass a round of Anzac beer? laughing mates or trigger tuned?
missile point or missed the point? nuclear future - no clear path?
Martha likes to sweep the joint? - who will sweep up "aftermath?"

...........
Tis something to be horrified , yet glorified as well
those friends that were dismembered, I'll remember 'fore they fell
where victory and lunacy and courage raw and heart
and manliness and madness were but half an inch apart.

there's something to be honoured where your innards might rebel
when cannon fire and murder daily follow fall of shell
and faces blank in no man's land, look back towards their mates
who died out there some yesterday - and forecast future fates.
............

was it all about the battlements, or what the battle meant?
were we simply sheep or cattle, (yet both hell and heaven sent )
was it valid or invalid, now that invalids are left
or the stuff of folklore ballad, and the law of folk bereft.

In the end my boy you ask yourself this little question here
(while) we share this Anzac medal called "a blood-oath promised beer"
this question's all important son, please try to understand...
is the aussie in the warzone? or the warzone in the man?
 
2BL PERSONNEL

Our 2BL has many types , it's like a mini world -
the serious blokes who read the news each day
and then there's those reporters where the pollies' dirt is hurled
and then the ones who joke and want to play
.......
I had a little nightmare that they played a giant hoax
the ABC had shuffled up their crews
I turned it on one morning to John Logan telling jokes-
who crossed to Adam Spencer for the news??
 
Example of what might happen when John Logan handed over to Adam Spencer for the news...

the traffic's so bad, don't leave your abode
and now for the joke of the day
"why did the chicken cross the road
it was something to do with foul play"

and now for the news, Mr Spencer kind sir
"wow!!! there's 1000's more planets they tell us !!!
and at this rate the number with life is a blurr
all inhabited by uninhibited fellas
 
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