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ASF Poetry Thread

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Since this is the 1001th post on this thread, I'll dedicate this one to my daughter who just turned 20 - and just back from Mexico. (- I gave her an orchid btw
btw also - She's the one in the hangglider (albeit tandem)

TO A DAUGHTER JUST TURNED TWENTY

a teenager no more kid
in four years twenty four kid
here’s to four times twenty more kid
life’s paths will come what may
hey mum, that’s mine and your kid
the one that we adore kid
the hangglide born to soar kid
who met the Mex Jose.

kept searching for that door kid
your future to explore kid
a bolder and more sure kid
than the one that went away
keep sailing to that shore kid
adventures there galore kid
there’s treasures wait in store kid
and some gems along the way

no longer raucus raw kid
no longer “noon let’s draw” kid
no longer “I implore” kid
like a soldier fights his frey
Hey now we can’t ignore kid
no longer teenage dawk kid
.... and here’s a little orchid
to help recall today.
 
2020hindsight said:
PS I went to a poet's club meeting in Sydney once.. sheesh .... deep deep deep stuff.

A lady had a poem that went on for 15 minutes or so - about a recent orgasm she'd had.!
Click to expand...

THE LADY AT THE POET'S CLUB

the poets club was waiting
in a room above some bar,
a few of them were mating,
blowing smoke-rings more the par,
a few had pink and Mohawk hair,
a few had none at all,
and a few had names like “Xavier”
even they could just recall.

they all took turns to say their poem
that had grown from random thought,
some fellow gave a rambling tome
‘bout “prawn bait I have bought”,
but then this lady took the stage
her poem was “my orgasm”,
we all sat back to join her “rage”
as she carved this mental chasm.

I’ll paint the scene , the assembled
looked like casting for “The Bill”,
a few of them resembled
Marlene Dietrich on the pill,
one Marlon Brando sitting there
in his tangoed-Paris coat,
and the room had heaps of love to share
and that smoke that makes you float.

for ten minute orgasmics
you need poet’s panting breast,
the mirrors on those antics
set to poetry is best,
but cripes, it went for eons !
while the old blokes popped Viagra,
one codger’s eyes turned neons
then he yodelled like Niagara.

in truth she was a younger lass
and all the menfolk gaped,
by the time her poem was finished
all those men felt they’d been raped,
and she meanwhile kept panting
between words that came in threes,
- as she climaxed, chanting, ranting
- as she buckled at the knees.

I’ve nor been back to the poet's club
nor yet to a stripclub bar,
but that night made a change from the local pub
and it shines like a mental star,
those details of her malling rucks
her art, her insight prisms,
... ain’t man and woman lucky ducks
they’re orgasmic organisms.
 
http://shinysquirrel.typepad.com/shiny_squirrel_/2006/12/bill_hensen.html

....................................................

ART AND THE BILL HENSEN PHOTO QUESTION..

Bill Hensen took a photo of a girl who’s underage,
his portfolio in toto? heck it’s one of many a page,
and old blokes in their sauna clubs ask “was it pornographic?”
praps post THEIR snap at the corner pub – call it “untowelled sauna traffic”
 
I think I heard a politician - name of Wilson something – saying that, in his opinion, the baby bonus should not be means tested – and his reasoning was that , (paraphrased) “in the racing industry, the thoroughbreds do the breeding”. So this poem takes that thought to the nth degree – as a “what-if”.

ONLY THOROUGHBREDS BREED IN MY PLAN

"only thoroughbreds breed in my plan
you can castrate the rest of the crowd
while these (beergutted) babes boost my clan
you others just aren’t ..“breed-allowed”."

wouldn’t that be a hell of a state
if the rich pseudo-righteous could rig it!
but hey Wil, why should YOU procreate?
after all, you’re both brumby AND bigot.
 
BIKES TO SOLVE THE ENERGY CRISIS

The bicycle’s the go you know
between gatepost you and me
those bikes you fit with dynamos
that drive the damned TV
and specially those with plasma screens
must “peddle for their dinner”
there'd be a lot less TV
and we’d be a whole lot thinner.

and still more bikes to ride to work
and more to drive the lights
and more to send the lifts beserk
when we balk at walking flights
and bikes (with CLAMPS) at the petrol bowsers
so the drivers are hard pressed to peddle
so we’re FORCED to be energy conscious wowsers
so the petrol can barely piddle.
 
http://donlmartin.newsvine.com/_news/2008/06/04/1538081-obama-pass-over-hillary-clinton-for-vp


http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/06/05/2266568.htm?section=world


HILLARY’S UNCONCESSIONAL CONFESSIONAL

You’ll respect my 18 million who have placed their faith in me !
the foundations of my empire and my place in history
though I used to be quite rich folks, don’t you dare say I’m “has been”
just remember I’m a bitch folks, and a has-been-bitch is mean
although I’m beat and broke , I’m still the queen.

Queen Hillary - the first and all - my God I like that ring
it echoes from the white house walls and bathrooms where I’d sing
this 8 year absence only goes to make the heart grow fonder
whilst 50 million bucks have somehow disappeared out yonder
- I’m hanging out for a well paid job to squander.

It’s all about the party – it’s my party - it ain’t yours
these people voted Hillary, and voted that because
they are rusted on to me and Bill – there’s no way they’ll turn back
but I’ll bow out now I’m beaten – for my good friend here, Barack -
three cheers for me, now one more for the black.

I had a chance on Tuesday night to gracefully concede
but no I had to keep the fight up – based on grit and greed
so now I’ll spend two days or three to draft my “step down speech”
which is oh-so-from-the heart of me – well as deep as I can reach -
ahh skin deep’s deep enough – just ask a leach!.

The experts say Obama/Clinton would be the ideal team
they' be around for 16 years !! – (of nightmare or of dream)
….
I’m guessing what Barack is thinking – should he build a girder
to bridge the gap to Clintophiles so they both play "drover herder"
but 16 years! – you only get 10 for murder!.
(sheesh)
 
THE ROLE OF 5 CENTS PER LITRE IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS TO COME

when pollies clash it’s balderdash, plans rash and how to sell em,
past glories, whigs and tories, and tall stories, how to tell em,
mad theories, wild and eerie, praps stay leerie of their realm,
and Brendon, he’ll transcend em, hence he’ll never take the helm.

he says his desire is to put out the fire , with a discounted petrol price,
the exact amount of the said discount is that 5 cents would be nice,
if the price of a quart (call it litre) bought can go up 10 cents in a trice,
well heck with 5 cents, it’ll all be spent, on a two-week bag of ice.

will you please tune in for “a future win”, call it “statesmanlike” if you prefer,
that the world will improve when the good men move to positions where science concurs,
and a populist, shallow, and ignorant fellow from where facts-f*cked and fiction all blurrs,
he can offer 5 cents – it’ll sound good for Lent, but his science, well sadly it errs.

now when Garnaut reports, he will cut through the rorts, he will tell the facts fair firm and fiery,
there’s a monster at large, it’s about to take charge of the world and your grandchild’s sad diary,
ahh the old folks could care less, they’re selfish, they share less, claiming rights as a “hard worked retiree”,
praps the next generations, will vent their frustrations, with a right-Royal Commission enquiry.
..........
praps the next generations, will disown us relations, as the cause of life’s early expiry.
 

TRYING TO COME TO TERMS WITH SOMETHING MAD AND UNEXPLAINABLE -
SINCERE SYMPATHY FOR THE PARENTS

If a boy was murdered 3am, a tender manhood age
just 21, just talking with some friends
if a car was driven straight at them – a case of kerbside rage
an instant and insane way life should end.

mad drivers - kerb those mad dislikes!, mad drivers, kerb that rage!
that parents of more lovely boys don’t weep,
can murder in mad driver’s psyches turn and burn that page
and may those deep-down-devils stay asleep.

and were I to change places with the parents of that boy,
(May I empathise and sympathise in sorrow)
I’d hug his pillow’s head-shaped hollow, where there once was joy
and I guess I’d pray we’d meet again …….. tomorrow.
 
wayneL said:
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/europe/article4076339.ece
"Bob Dylan says Barack Obama is 'changin' America"
Click to expand...

"Times are changing" - Bob Dylan

WHERE STATESMANLIKE WORDS ARE CONTAGION
AT LAST THE TIMES ARE A-CHANGIN'
the Gospels of JOHN McCAIN and BARACK OBAMA

McCAIN

Come Az-been-baijanis, wherever you roam
And admit that old Johnny’s, a has-been on loan
And accept it that soon you'll be called on the phone.
At some time on the loo - or you’re shaving'
You’ll be straw-polled and war-polled and bored into stone
For the times, uncle, aren’t changin'.

Come widows of MIA’s demonised with his Bren
he who sums up the world with a “make war amen”
Hey don’t expect truth cos he’s still stuck in spin
And there's no tellin' who that he's blamin'.
bomb the bad guys for oil, and then move on again
and those domino crimes – they ain’t changin'.

OBAMA

Come new blooded countrymen, hear Barark’s call
He’s standing so White House can fight city hall
Even heathens who hear him will emerge ten feet tall;
Cos his statesmanlike words, they’re contagion.
There’ll be shaking of windows and rattling of walls
Cos the times are finally a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don't criticize what the youth understand
Your sons and your daughters will ignore your commands
”attention, quick march” - that so “agin'”.
Please get off the computer or youtube “the man”
For the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawn, new rulers, new rules
not temporary cool tempered, I’m talking true cool
and the president now will step down as the fool
and the lobbyists can go earn real wages
And the world enjoys lessons at a new type of school
For the times they are a-changin'

PREDICTIONS

When some-body asked Mccain “how long irarq”
“is one year or 50 more close to the mark?”
he answered “100 is all right by me"
let Iraq go for ages and ages
but McCain voted wrong and Barack voted right
- now old John wants Iran, nothing changes.

Election’s upon us – let’s fabricate war
it shuts up the doves so the war hawks can soar
old warhorses only know one kind of law
the old law that needs rearranging
Barark’s at 4/7, McCain’s 7/4
War’s the only way that will be changing.

And Israel’s above playing bold puppeteer
believe if you wish, when they drum up your fear
they speak Jewish accents, but drink US beer
their bombers are really wide ranging
Barark has some time-honoured stormclouds to steer
wish him well, that times start a-changing.

The reason McCain’s the Republican choice
he’s looks least like Bush, diplomatic (joke Joyce)
it’s rare that musicians can work with his voice
while Barark’s many youtubes are raging
McCain “don’t do carrots” – (watch the God-squad rejoice)
May the times finally start changing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFknKVjuyNk
 
TEENAGE BINGE DRINKING

I love my teenage drinking where I go out on a binge
to go beyond the brink of sense, beyond the brink of cringe
my mates all cheer when I throw up, or fall into a ditch
and the publican’s a real good mate, but where I’m poor he’s rich.

I say that I’m an idealist, cos when I’m drunk I feel
the more I drink, the more I list , the more I feel ideal,
I’m sorta like a hedonist, whatever turns me on
I’m “head on” till I’m off my head, with half my brain cells gone.

The motive? well it’s so that I’ll philosophise on me
on optimistic nights out , come home misty optically
I’ll keep it up till adult – or adulterated years
when my crimson yawn meets crimson dawn, and ulcerated cheers.

Did you see me on 4 corners, hey I’m such a bon viveur
I threw up on my tee shirt, then I threw up on the bar
I threw up in the ambulance, I barfed and barfed and barfed
but nurses don’t have sense of humours – no-one up there laughed.
 
A NOTE TO HIS KIDS AS A REINCARNATED JOHNATHAN LIVINGSTONE SEAGULL GOES TO WORK

I reckon in a past life I was seabird of the gull breed -
parental gullibility (since I gave up life at hull speed),
I spring off mornings, bring up kids, then bring up fish for dinner
…dear little gulls, dear gullets (?) – whilst you fatten I get thinner.
 
GRANPA AND HIS SAYINGS

There’s fish galore in the oceans lad, they’re the opiate of lost romance ,
there’s schools of em by the dozen glad to meet with and dine with and dance
you’ll see I’m right in good time lad - just make a romantic wish -
(I‘ll pass if it’s ok by you graddad, cos it’s girls that I like not fish.)

Well grandpa says skip all this “feet on dry land”, he’s more inclined to say
that “A bird in the bush is worth two in the hand – and you’re both free to fly away”
so I’m taking a punt (call it bird watcher’s hunch) before I’m all weighed down with caring
and I’m heading out bush for a picnic lunch, with one blanket, two CD’s , and Karen.

Praps `grandpa, he wishes he’d met my gran, a year or two after he did
he says 17 is to early to plan, when you’re still just a teenage kid
he keeps talking bout fish in the ocean, he keeping talking bout birds in the bush
it seems that he’s grabbed by a notion, that he maybe go fishing – with a push.

But these days he sits at his cushion, he keeps getting sayings confused
“there’s plenty of fish in the bush son”, (and I can’t help from being amused)
I wonder what memories he hides there, I wonder what scenes he is thinking
and his smiling old eyes – what resides there, as he stares at the fire unblinking.
 
WHY DID THEY EVER PRIVATISE THE COMMONWEALTH BANK?

I don’t have much respect for banks
they charge like wounded rhinos
pretending they’re foundation planks
when they’re parasitic winos,
if they bill me (and they bill in spades)
on some alleged transgression
that triggers endless fee cascades
for their next wine tasting session.

If only the people still possessed
a bank they could call their own
the COMMONWEALTH which was all messed up
when they sold it and braved the unknown
so that, just for “second opinion’s sake”,
to the greedy banks out there,
the interest rates would now have a brake
and the people would own a share.
 
2020 matey , do you enter poetry comps.?
There is one going at the moment that finishes on Friday 1 August 2008.There is prize money for winning and various categories but most of all, poets get to showcase their art.Online entries too.

Here are the competition details.

Let me know if you have a go.




.
 

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Wysiwyg said:
2020 matey , do you enter poetry comps.?
Click to expand...
wys - howdy man,
maybe, see what happens...
lol, I know a lady who entered a comp in the States once (as in USA).
She won a cash prize - only problem was she had to fly over there in person to pick it up - and needless to say she'd have ended up well and truly in the red. (I think in the fine print they had the copyright)..

Here's my entry ..

The poets tripped to Ipswich
for a round of cut and thrust
the men babbled on in the blue room,
(where the XXXX was discussed)
the girls Porphery Pearled in the pale pink lounge
then the judging fair and just
then the winners were crowned to 4-way sound,
- then they all knocked off for lust.

lemme know if I win lol.
cheers m8.
 

continued...

As for asking someone to read it on my behalf m8 - I'm probably thinking along the lines of Ted Kooser (US Poet Laureate from 2005?)
... not that I'm comparing myself with him lol...
(I just write this stuff for fun )

"Selecting a Reader" by Ted Kooser
 
METH AND THE ROAD TO HELL

It’s elementary Watson, skip the myth and do the math
for every person tries it there’s a steeply downhill path
it’s all about a bending of the mind around what’s real
and it spirals in its trending, in a tyre screeching squeal.

these crystals of amphetamine, hot devils they call ice
these pistols trigger mental spinning sets of Satan’s dice.
these one-way road signs that they sell, this omni-fatal death
you like exploring roads to hell ? – here kid – just try this meth.

this mind exploding road to hell – here kid – just try this meth.


PS this story from 18 months ago - but a similar bust of a pusher of home-made meth in this morning's news

PS I know a boy who had a beer with Elai earlier that night
 
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