Hopes dreams and aspirations.
What I don’t find amusing is when people with power
Step on other peoples hopes dreams and aspirations
Like what happens inside a third world country
When it is dropped by the United Nations
What I don’t find amusing is laughter behind my back
People with no self respect that launch their covert attacks
Those that gossip to you will gossip bout you when you’re gone
They will talk about you and your weaknesses all day long
Their lives are so lonely and they live only off others deeds
Their imagination is stunted and their thoughts have no seeds
What I don’t find amusing is countries involved in foreign war
When they make people fight in a battle upon a distant shore
Involved in wars that are really for no common good
Innocent people die and soldiers return cased in wood
The real reason for the battle to the soldier in never shown
While the industry leaders and pollies bank accounts have grown
17/07/11
Life and love
My hopes dreams and aspirations
Are what get me through everyday
Knowing what lies ahead
Helps me on my way
Riding a new motorbike
Inspires me to go to work
A beautiful brand new cruiser
Knowing what its worth
Out there on the highway
On my few days off
Irene right behind me
As we just get up and take off
Building a future together
My lovely Irene and me
Dreaming of just how happy
Together we can truly be
Watching all out children grow
Having children of their own
Being there for each other
Never feeling alone
All the places we will travel
All the new things we will see
Doing everything together
My Irene myself and me
Always writing poetry
For its what I love to do
Sharing with good friends
Like you and you and you
I look joyfully to the future
To every brand new day
To all the happiness in life
That’s still to come my way.
17/07/11
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Barrow Man.
He’s an old man now that’s plain to see
He had his time when he was young and free
He’s a lot older now than he oughta be
He’s played it hard and he still sings in key
The streets are no place on which to live
But he doesn’t fit it and he doesn’t give
Money in his hands was like sand in a sieve
The streets are hard and they don’t forgive
He was a banker with a life of wheels and deals
Now he begs for food and grog he steals
With the Rosie’s crew he makes promissory deals
When the gutter kids rob him, he never squeals
He sleeps down by the cemetery in ol’Queen Street
He keeps to himself and is very discreet
He shy and quiet and but not hard to meet
He finds food for his friends, all the birds to eat
I see him with his trolley and all his bags
Free from anyone like a wife that nags
His back is bent and his head wearily sags
He says he proud of his Aussie flags
I showed him the new flag, the one that’s true blue
He said he liked it and its time for a flag that’s new
That Queen’s and ol lady and a bit of a shrew
As far as flags go that one, she’ll do
He’s an old man now and still full of fight
And he knows the difference between wrong and right
He reckons the light rail project will be a blight
And politicians are bastards that can’t sleep at night
Into his sleeping bag at night he shuffles with a crawl
He reckons when he was younger he was six foot tall
He likes his little bush spot with the creatures one and all
And he says his only worry is the ever encroaching, urban sprawl
Copyright belongs to Jeffrey Goudy - Poetry in Paradise - Reg Trade mark Number 1028534 17/08/08
He had his time when he was young and free
He’s a lot older now than he oughta be
He’s played it hard and he still sings in key
The streets are no place on which to live
But he doesn’t fit it and he doesn’t give
Money in his hands was like sand in a sieve
The streets are hard and they don’t forgive
He was a banker with a life of wheels and deals
Now he begs for food and grog he steals
With the Rosie’s crew he makes promissory deals
When the gutter kids rob him, he never squeals
He sleeps down by the cemetery in ol’Queen Street
He keeps to himself and is very discreet
He shy and quiet and but not hard to meet
He finds food for his friends, all the birds to eat
I see him with his trolley and all his bags
Free from anyone like a wife that nags
His back is bent and his head wearily sags
He says he proud of his Aussie flags
I showed him the new flag, the one that’s true blue
He said he liked it and its time for a flag that’s new
That Queen’s and ol lady and a bit of a shrew
As far as flags go that one, she’ll do
He’s an old man now and still full of fight
And he knows the difference between wrong and right
He reckons the light rail project will be a blight
And politicians are bastards that can’t sleep at night
Into his sleeping bag at night he shuffles with a crawl
He reckons when he was younger he was six foot tall
He likes his little bush spot with the creatures one and all
And he says his only worry is the ever encroaching, urban sprawl
Copyright belongs to Jeffrey Goudy - Poetry in Paradise - Reg Trade mark Number 1028534 17/08/08
CHILDREN
A parent’s love for a child
Can’t be measured sold or bought
There’s nothing you would trade
That exists upon this earth
They bring you joy and happiness
They show you how much a heart can hurt
A parent loves their child
Especially when it’s not deserved
Our kids can do so many great things
Then something’s that are quite absurd
They make you proud and overwhelmed then
They can treat you just like a turd
The nights you spend awake in bed
Wondering just where the hell they are
Like the 1st time they stayed out all night
The day they bought their first car
A parent and child fit together
Like two hands inside a glove
They teach you pain and compassion
And just what is the limit of your love
The best way you can help them
Is to love them unconditionally
They will always come back to you
If they know how to be
Our children teach us so many joys
They are our gifts from God
It is when we embrace their youthfulness
That we get his loving approval nod!!!!.
Copyright Poetry in Paradise 01/07/2007 TM No. 1028534
Can’t be measured sold or bought
There’s nothing you would trade
That exists upon this earth
They bring you joy and happiness
They show you how much a heart can hurt
A parent loves their child
Especially when it’s not deserved
Our kids can do so many great things
Then something’s that are quite absurd
They make you proud and overwhelmed then
They can treat you just like a turd
The nights you spend awake in bed
Wondering just where the hell they are
Like the 1st time they stayed out all night
The day they bought their first car
A parent and child fit together
Like two hands inside a glove
They teach you pain and compassion
And just what is the limit of your love
The best way you can help them
Is to love them unconditionally
They will always come back to you
If they know how to be
Our children teach us so many joys
They are our gifts from God
It is when we embrace their youthfulness
That we get his loving approval nod!!!!.
Copyright Poetry in Paradise 01/07/2007 TM No. 1028534
Children
Children they can make you laugh and they can make you cry
They can give you hell and curry, and they can wish that you would die
As a parent you are obligated, to give them all your love
Especially when they have told you, to go away with a shove
Children they can do so many silly things the kind that make you sad
But there are just as many times, when you’re proud to be their dad
Like a brother sharing a gift with his sister that he had won
Or all the other really good selfless deeds that they have done
Children they can make you, feel like you are really really old
Then when you look at their photos, their worth more than any gold
They grow up and they leave you and fly far from the nest
You take a deep breath and smile knowingly, that you have done your very best
Children they can be the cause of so many sleepless nights
They can make you a referee; yes and the intervener of all their fights
Like the eternal window argument that wafts continually from the back
Then it starts all over again when you drive back home on that long long track
Children they can fill the world with happiness when they are young and still so cute
Then when they get older sometimes, they really need the boot
Like jumping on your bed so early on a sleepy Sunday morn
Or when theyre losing your tools and leavin them outside on the lawn
Children they can really give you so many reasons to want to live
They can think that your wallet is full of holes just like a sieve
They can make you oh so happy and really make you smile
Mine I really love and for them, I will always go the extra mile.
COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 09/08/09
TRADEMARK NUMBER 1028534 Jeffrey Goudy
They can give you hell and curry, and they can wish that you would die
As a parent you are obligated, to give them all your love
Especially when they have told you, to go away with a shove
Children they can do so many silly things the kind that make you sad
But there are just as many times, when you’re proud to be their dad
Like a brother sharing a gift with his sister that he had won
Or all the other really good selfless deeds that they have done
Children they can make you, feel like you are really really old
Then when you look at their photos, their worth more than any gold
They grow up and they leave you and fly far from the nest
You take a deep breath and smile knowingly, that you have done your very best
Children they can be the cause of so many sleepless nights
They can make you a referee; yes and the intervener of all their fights
Like the eternal window argument that wafts continually from the back
Then it starts all over again when you drive back home on that long long track
Children they can fill the world with happiness when they are young and still so cute
Then when they get older sometimes, they really need the boot
Like jumping on your bed so early on a sleepy Sunday morn
Or when theyre losing your tools and leavin them outside on the lawn
Children they can really give you so many reasons to want to live
They can think that your wallet is full of holes just like a sieve
They can make you oh so happy and really make you smile
Mine I really love and for them, I will always go the extra mile.
COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 09/08/09
TRADEMARK NUMBER 1028534 Jeffrey Goudy
Fire & Brimstone (By another poet)
We sat in chapel and thought it odd
As the vicar called upon the wrath of God.
To punish sinners there and then
For disobeying Commandments ten.
As we all sang 'with me abide',
A howling wind struck up outside.
All the doors and windows rattled
As on and on the vicar prattled.
The sky went dark and thunder rumbled,
Some even thought that they'd been tumbled.
A lightning bolt the spire did strike,
And melted down the vicar's bike.
We all whirled round, as at the back
The doors flew open with a CRACK!
A streak of lightning down the aisle,
The music stand, a smoking pile.
The rood screen was next to go,
Ash fell down like falling snow
The organ hit, this made some swoon
The only time it's been in tune.
As hymn book pages flapped and fluttered,
The vicar's sermon stooped and stuttered.
A bolt of lightning through the church yard broke,
Demolished the vestry at a stroke.
The chapel shook from roof to wall,
Dust rained down on one and all.
Pews vibrated, pillars wobbled,
A gargoyle from the roof it toppled.
Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed,
The choir for the crypt they dashed,
The congregation looking worried,
Also to the crypt they hurried.
The vicar in the pulpit stood
An ashen face drained of all blood.
A lightning bolt, the last to hit,
The vicar ducked and shouted 'Shit!'
The chapel in ruins, a pile of rubble,
The vicar to thank for all this trouble
A smell of burning in the air,
The vicar fled to who knows where.
So next time a man of the cloth,
Happens to call upon God's wrath
Be ready to scramble hell for leather,
If you see a change in the weather.
Copyright; Toga
Email: tpgaunt@hotmail.com
As the vicar called upon the wrath of God.
To punish sinners there and then
For disobeying Commandments ten.
As we all sang 'with me abide',
A howling wind struck up outside.
All the doors and windows rattled
As on and on the vicar prattled.
The sky went dark and thunder rumbled,
Some even thought that they'd been tumbled.
A lightning bolt the spire did strike,
And melted down the vicar's bike.
We all whirled round, as at the back
The doors flew open with a CRACK!
A streak of lightning down the aisle,
The music stand, a smoking pile.
The rood screen was next to go,
Ash fell down like falling snow
The organ hit, this made some swoon
The only time it's been in tune.
As hymn book pages flapped and fluttered,
The vicar's sermon stooped and stuttered.
A bolt of lightning through the church yard broke,
Demolished the vestry at a stroke.
The chapel shook from roof to wall,
Dust rained down on one and all.
Pews vibrated, pillars wobbled,
A gargoyle from the roof it toppled.
Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed,
The choir for the crypt they dashed,
The congregation looking worried,
Also to the crypt they hurried.
The vicar in the pulpit stood
An ashen face drained of all blood.
A lightning bolt, the last to hit,
The vicar ducked and shouted 'Shit!'
The chapel in ruins, a pile of rubble,
The vicar to thank for all this trouble
A smell of burning in the air,
The vicar fled to who knows where.
So next time a man of the cloth,
Happens to call upon God's wrath
Be ready to scramble hell for leather,
If you see a change in the weather.
Copyright; Toga
Email: tpgaunt@hotmail.com
Blue Blue through and through
BLUE
No need to have the name the state
Where league was born, you know it’s great
It’s a land where God goes for a walk
Leagues legends are asked to repeat their talk
Where wearing the blue is do or die
Maroon is hated like a cloudy sky
The Cane toads come to share our spoils
Then hop back to Queensland for the origin toils
On their bellies their flown back home
Topped up with banana’s and the seed is sown
Then it’s mate to mate and your state’s your pride
Where you mock ya neighbour from the other side
Where strength comes from wearing the blue
And ya passion is found, both old and new
Tommy’s boys they did us all proud
They stood toe to toe amidst the angry crowd
They may not have won the points that night
But by the strength of a roach they won the fight
Many a legend from the game has been born
And many a legend the blue he has worn
Our determination to stand up to all
Our skill to defend and run with the ball
A cockroach may be ugly to the few
But to NSW he’s proud and he’s blue.
Jeffrey Goudy 11/06/08
Copyright Poetry in Paradise 1028534.
Reprint with pleasure and forward with treasure.
Blue Blue Blue True Blue!!!!
No need to have the name the state
Where league was born, you know it’s great
It’s a land where God goes for a walk
Leagues legends are asked to repeat their talk
Where wearing the blue is do or die
Maroon is hated like a cloudy sky
The Cane toads come to share our spoils
Then hop back to Queensland for the origin toils
On their bellies their flown back home
Topped up with banana’s and the seed is sown
Then it’s mate to mate and your state’s your pride
Where you mock ya neighbour from the other side
Where strength comes from wearing the blue
And ya passion is found, both old and new
Tommy’s boys they did us all proud
They stood toe to toe amidst the angry crowd
They may not have won the points that night
But by the strength of a roach they won the fight
Many a legend from the game has been born
And many a legend the blue he has worn
Our determination to stand up to all
Our skill to defend and run with the ball
A cockroach may be ugly to the few
But to NSW he’s proud and he’s blue.
Jeffrey Goudy 11/06/08
Copyright Poetry in Paradise 1028534.
Reprint with pleasure and forward with treasure.
Blue Blue Blue True Blue!!!!
The Fishing Joke Poem
Mornings are the best time to go fishing with a mate
Me and three of the best off them
Loaded the boat with beer and bait
All of us were married with wives left at home
They probably went out shopping
No place for us to grizzle or groan
A few beers down the river no fish upon the line
The stories started flowin
About how they’d pleaded for this time
You have no idea what I had to do said Cedric
to come out here and play
I had to promise my wife next weekend
I’d be painting every flammin day
That's nothing said Rodger, being ever oh so cool,
I had to promise my wife
that I'd build her a deck around the whole bloody pool.'
Man, you blokes have it easy stated Bazza with a frown
I had to promise my wife
That I'd rebuild the whole damned kitchen right up from the ground
Hey, You haven't said anything, about what you had to do
Is your story the worst they asked me ?
Is it a tale more horrible and more true?
I just sat back with me stubbie, cool as ice in me hand
I said you blokes are pissweak
Let me tell ya, just how to be a man
I just set me alarm for 5:30 and I grabbed the Vaseline and the bex.
I slapped her uncovered bum
and said what is it dear, is it fishing or is it sex
She just laid there, eyes closed, as steady as a rock
Pulling the blanket back over her
While stating clearly, Hey!!!!!! Don’t forget your sun block
A joke I heard rewritten by myself into this poem, Copyright???
Me and three of the best off them
Loaded the boat with beer and bait
All of us were married with wives left at home
They probably went out shopping
No place for us to grizzle or groan
A few beers down the river no fish upon the line
The stories started flowin
About how they’d pleaded for this time
You have no idea what I had to do said Cedric
to come out here and play
I had to promise my wife next weekend
I’d be painting every flammin day
That's nothing said Rodger, being ever oh so cool,
I had to promise my wife
that I'd build her a deck around the whole bloody pool.'
Man, you blokes have it easy stated Bazza with a frown
I had to promise my wife
That I'd rebuild the whole damned kitchen right up from the ground
Hey, You haven't said anything, about what you had to do
Is your story the worst they asked me ?
Is it a tale more horrible and more true?
I just sat back with me stubbie, cool as ice in me hand
I said you blokes are pissweak
Let me tell ya, just how to be a man
I just set me alarm for 5:30 and I grabbed the Vaseline and the bex.
I slapped her uncovered bum
and said what is it dear, is it fishing or is it sex
She just laid there, eyes closed, as steady as a rock
Pulling the blanket back over her
While stating clearly, Hey!!!!!! Don’t forget your sun block
A joke I heard rewritten by myself into this poem, Copyright???
Computers arrrrrrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!!!!
Damned computers,
They really drive you mad
Many a day my mood has sunk
From happy to really sad
It is the most unreliable invention
Always breaking down
If a computer was a plane
It couldn’t get off the ground
If a computer was a car
It wouldn’t ever sell
Its reputation would quickly
Send the sales straight to hell
If a computer was a bicycle
No one would ride around
People would rather walk
Then always be let down
If a computer was a movie
It would never have an end
It would stop and start
Going backwards now and then
If a computer was a woman
She’d be lazy and no good
Never doing anything
She said she would
If a computer was a man
He’d live his life on the dole
His house would be a garbage dump
And his body would lack a soul
I think a computer may be a teenager
Their more similar than just a bit
For just like a teenager
Computers don’t give a ….. bite, I mean bit
30/03/2011. COPYRIGHT 1028534 POETRY IN PARADISE
They really drive you mad
Many a day my mood has sunk
From happy to really sad
It is the most unreliable invention
Always breaking down
If a computer was a plane
It couldn’t get off the ground
If a computer was a car
It wouldn’t ever sell
Its reputation would quickly
Send the sales straight to hell
If a computer was a bicycle
No one would ride around
People would rather walk
Then always be let down
If a computer was a movie
It would never have an end
It would stop and start
Going backwards now and then
If a computer was a woman
She’d be lazy and no good
Never doing anything
She said she would
If a computer was a man
He’d live his life on the dole
His house would be a garbage dump
And his body would lack a soul
I think a computer may be a teenager
Their more similar than just a bit
For just like a teenager
Computers don’t give a ….. bite, I mean bit
30/03/2011. COPYRIGHT 1028534 POETRY IN PARADISE
Irene's first poem!!
I am a Filipina,
of that I am so proud
I love being a lady
I’m a Mum I say out loud
I’m proud of my children
each and everyone
I’m proud of my country
and how far I have come
I like to dress neatly,
to me manners are worth gold
I hold strongly to my values
My pride cannot be sold
I don’t like public speaking
in fact this is my first
Only if I was naked
could this feel any worse.
I stand here before you,
Because I hold you all my friend
With Jeffrey by my side
I hope to stand up here again
For with this type of speaking
My confidence will grow
With your welcoming support
My smile will surely glow.
Jeffrey wrote this poem for me,
For he really knows my heart
I like it here with you his friends
So a poem I’d like one day to start.
So let’s hope next time
I can pen word that are so true
Then I can call myself a poet
Like all of you proudly do.
Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534
of that I am so proud
I love being a lady
I’m a Mum I say out loud
I’m proud of my children
each and everyone
I’m proud of my country
and how far I have come
I like to dress neatly,
to me manners are worth gold
I hold strongly to my values
My pride cannot be sold
I don’t like public speaking
in fact this is my first
Only if I was naked
could this feel any worse.
I stand here before you,
Because I hold you all my friend
With Jeffrey by my side
I hope to stand up here again
For with this type of speaking
My confidence will grow
With your welcoming support
My smile will surely glow.
Jeffrey wrote this poem for me,
For he really knows my heart
I like it here with you his friends
So a poem I’d like one day to start.
So let’s hope next time
I can pen word that are so true
Then I can call myself a poet
Like all of you proudly do.
Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534
The Parent Trap
They came with sticks and brooms
Anything they could hold
They were armed and they were ready
The story had been told
Their leader prepped them well
And told them what to do
When the doors fly open
Attack, like a well drilled crew
We have to stand as one
To scare them really well
When the doors are opened
We have to give’em hell
The enemy is evil
They have such beadie eyes
Their nasty and their smelly
So easy to despise
We have to act quickly
To get the whole job done
For only if were united
Can this war be one
Everybody braced themselves
To their leader they belonged
Their faith was like a devotion
Their commitment was so strong
The enemy didn’t know
They were in for such a shock
These four soldiers were armed
Standing solid as a rock
The countdown was started
The leader was so cool
Then Mum flung open the pantry
Then shouted April fool
30/03/2011 COPYRIGHT 1028534 POETRY IN PARADISE
Anything they could hold
They were armed and they were ready
The story had been told
Their leader prepped them well
And told them what to do
When the doors fly open
Attack, like a well drilled crew
We have to stand as one
To scare them really well
When the doors are opened
We have to give’em hell
The enemy is evil
They have such beadie eyes
Their nasty and their smelly
So easy to despise
We have to act quickly
To get the whole job done
For only if were united
Can this war be one
Everybody braced themselves
To their leader they belonged
Their faith was like a devotion
Their commitment was so strong
The enemy didn’t know
They were in for such a shock
These four soldiers were armed
Standing solid as a rock
The countdown was started
The leader was so cool
Then Mum flung open the pantry
Then shouted April fool
30/03/2011 COPYRIGHT 1028534 POETRY IN PARADISE
Grandads Travels & God lives inside hearts & Poetry group decisions.
Grandads Travels.
Grand dad came down from Dirranbandi and he humped his swag up on the train
Then he slept out on me veranda and thanked Huey it didn’t rain
He tells anyone he’s from the bush and that’s he’s very proud of that
He says he loves the bloody heat and that the whole flamin world should be flat
He says he learnt to ride a horse himself!! long before he could even walk
N’That a cook taught’im how to swear like a shearer before he learnt to talk
Me Grandad only ever had one car that could fill the whole list on his extensive quota
He’s never seen anything that’d come close to his 1961 tray back two door white Toyota
Well me sister rocked up to see him with her stuck up city banker high flyer creep
Bragging bout their luxury four door all wheel drive turbo charged black as night… Jeep
The banker told his fancy tale to us though his story came quiet uninvited
He listed all the features this Jeep thing had and the diff gear ratios were precisely cited
Ol Grandad just bit his lip then sat back and rolled another log cabin smoke
Show the flamin thing some dust dirt ‘n gravel and he reckoned that it’d flamin choke
The ol bugger tipped his akubra to the l’adies and then nodded his goodbyes
Taking out his filled hip flask with a determined thirsty look in his eyes
He finished off his rum as he stretched once again upon his swag
Then smiled a drunken smile and laughed out loudly, like it was the best idea he’d ever had
Chirp chirp went the jeep when the keyless tag was fumbly poked at the floor
The bloody parkin lights came on and the computer actually opened up the flaming door
“Welcome Sir” it said to him as he clambered drunkenly up and hoped inside
“Don’t forget to buckle up Sir, or I cannot take you any where for a ride”
Ping ping the car went as he found the strap and stuck it in the holster right beside his hip
Some green light was flashing upon the dash so grandad pushed it and thus began his trip
“What’s your destination Sir please key in the address for where it is you’d like to go”
Grandad said “well bugger me” the computer replied that request it did not know
He braced himself adjusted the mirror but the seat he could not move
Then he pushed 98.9 on the radio and Old Slim made grandad groove
He hit the garage door as he had not figured the need to push the button
Then he cursed to himself this piece of garbage is just lamb dressed up as mutton
The door was open now and the Jeep was out in the street
Grandad smiled to himself as “lights on the hill” helped him keep his beat
He headed for the freeway for that was the way he came
He found it hard to find the wipers as the wind swept some of the rain
He thought about his Mabel and the nights spent on blueberry hill
That’s were he and the jeep was heading he just hoped the jeep had the will
For the road to lovers leap was less then a bush track
At night it would be a journey where only the Toyota could get him back
He drove straight through the wire fence and at that he was impressed
He got a glimpse of Mabel as the pattern reminded him of her dress
He looked out the windscreen and could see the peak way up high
He dropped her into to second and made the gearbox cry
The tyres started slipping but he wasn’t turning around
The wire wrapped around them made a click click clicking sound
He tried to find the old path that went around the trees
The jeep was hangin in there and had come thus far with ease
Things got dark on one side as he miss calculated a hidden rock
The bump nearly threw him from his seat and gave him quiet a shock
He didn’t see the puddle in front of him, which was almost a lake
He was right in the middle of it when he decided it was time to break
The car came to halt the water almost up to the door
He laughed and said “there now darling that’s what they made ya for”
He dropped her into low with the wheels making a watery sound
Then the spray came in the window as lowered it, to look around
Back on his mission when he had almost topped the hill
The engine making a noise that could only be described as shrill
Somehow the jeep got side ways as it skidded into a tree
But grandad revved her up and very soon they broke free
It wasn’t very far now as he saw through the rain to the very top
The jeep was going to make it, his jaw had slightly dropped
What the poor bugger didn’t know some rich man had bought the other side
He’d built a mansion on the cliff face that was his joy and his pride
Four stories of luxury with a view that was impossible to beat
A palace on a mountain where the bush and city meet
Grandad must’ve felt like he was a flamin bloody fool
As skidded through the landscaping across the marble edge and into the pool
It must have been a funny sight for the millionaire and his wife
To see the old bugger dog paddling so clearly in much strife
They fished him out together and he drunkardly tried to give a thank
Then they watched the bubbles disappear as the Jeep beneath the water sank
Well grandad told them it was the first time he had ever driven in town
The jeep was bloody tough but he’d doubt that his landcruiser woulda drowned
God lives inside hearts.
When I was young there was much haze
I lived a funny through the good ol bad ol days
My family thought most likely to fail
The school voted me most likely to go to jail
The Police looked twice for they knew my name
My brothers learnt quickly to pass the blame
In love, out of love, from one fall to the next
So many attempts to try and break my neck
All that I’ve done both good and bad
Just ask my!! Kids do they love their!! Dad
I started this group so we all could speak
Everyone has the choice to turn the other cheek
My standards are mine and I’ve been thru the gutter
I have the same knife for my steak my cheese and my butter
My God is in my heart not hidden inside some book of law
My God loves everyone; I think that should happen some more
Poetry group decisions.
It is seldom that I show ire or my emotions
The true person is seldom let out
My anger has seen me in trouble and my strength does doubt
It scares me when my other self is about
I want this group to work it is my peace on earth
I look forward to it every day
It is the place where I do some good where I know in my heart I should
You’re all friends and welcome to stay
Please consider others before you write
We are adults here and have not a government to fear
We can all get along for were searching for the same song
Three hours a month we find it here
Thank you for your attention and there is no need to sanction
Just don’t clap and you will make your point
So bring your poems to our table and let us laugh if were able
Because tomorrow you could drop dead.
Poem number four
I heard there was a rumour about a lacking sense of humour
That has left some people feeling a little cold
Well I really beg to differ as I hold my top lip stiffer
That a laugh’s a laugh come what may
If a mental picture you find creates an image in your mind
Then has not the poet done their job
If the words alone were not offensive but they made you feel defensive
Then the picture painted was truly clear
I do not wish to be a judge nor to lay down in the sludge
And I hope from this no one says good bye
For if are to set a list of rules well we end up as the fools
Because where different you know you and i
If you feel a strong objection you’re free to pen your rejection
And another group you may want to find
For if you think you can do better then become a real go getter
And start another group from scratch like we did
When I work in mental health, I place my feelings on the shelf
Try to act like I don’t really care
Then some one eight hours at me they stare and count the greys amongst my hair
It makes me look inside my self
There but for the grace of God goes you or I and I often wonder why
he chose them and not me,
but who is it that is free is it them or is it me,
sometimes I cry just let me be
When I am really feeling sad I have thoughts are just plain bad
And yet I’m free to come and go
I guess I know right from wrong
and these poor bastards aren’t that strong
and for that their labelled truly mad
Grand dad came down from Dirranbandi and he humped his swag up on the train
Then he slept out on me veranda and thanked Huey it didn’t rain
He tells anyone he’s from the bush and that’s he’s very proud of that
He says he loves the bloody heat and that the whole flamin world should be flat
He says he learnt to ride a horse himself!! long before he could even walk
N’That a cook taught’im how to swear like a shearer before he learnt to talk
Me Grandad only ever had one car that could fill the whole list on his extensive quota
He’s never seen anything that’d come close to his 1961 tray back two door white Toyota
Well me sister rocked up to see him with her stuck up city banker high flyer creep
Bragging bout their luxury four door all wheel drive turbo charged black as night… Jeep
The banker told his fancy tale to us though his story came quiet uninvited
He listed all the features this Jeep thing had and the diff gear ratios were precisely cited
Ol Grandad just bit his lip then sat back and rolled another log cabin smoke
Show the flamin thing some dust dirt ‘n gravel and he reckoned that it’d flamin choke
The ol bugger tipped his akubra to the l’adies and then nodded his goodbyes
Taking out his filled hip flask with a determined thirsty look in his eyes
He finished off his rum as he stretched once again upon his swag
Then smiled a drunken smile and laughed out loudly, like it was the best idea he’d ever had
Chirp chirp went the jeep when the keyless tag was fumbly poked at the floor
The bloody parkin lights came on and the computer actually opened up the flaming door
“Welcome Sir” it said to him as he clambered drunkenly up and hoped inside
“Don’t forget to buckle up Sir, or I cannot take you any where for a ride”
Ping ping the car went as he found the strap and stuck it in the holster right beside his hip
Some green light was flashing upon the dash so grandad pushed it and thus began his trip
“What’s your destination Sir please key in the address for where it is you’d like to go”
Grandad said “well bugger me” the computer replied that request it did not know
He braced himself adjusted the mirror but the seat he could not move
Then he pushed 98.9 on the radio and Old Slim made grandad groove
He hit the garage door as he had not figured the need to push the button
Then he cursed to himself this piece of garbage is just lamb dressed up as mutton
The door was open now and the Jeep was out in the street
Grandad smiled to himself as “lights on the hill” helped him keep his beat
He headed for the freeway for that was the way he came
He found it hard to find the wipers as the wind swept some of the rain
He thought about his Mabel and the nights spent on blueberry hill
That’s were he and the jeep was heading he just hoped the jeep had the will
For the road to lovers leap was less then a bush track
At night it would be a journey where only the Toyota could get him back
He drove straight through the wire fence and at that he was impressed
He got a glimpse of Mabel as the pattern reminded him of her dress
He looked out the windscreen and could see the peak way up high
He dropped her into to second and made the gearbox cry
The tyres started slipping but he wasn’t turning around
The wire wrapped around them made a click click clicking sound
He tried to find the old path that went around the trees
The jeep was hangin in there and had come thus far with ease
Things got dark on one side as he miss calculated a hidden rock
The bump nearly threw him from his seat and gave him quiet a shock
He didn’t see the puddle in front of him, which was almost a lake
He was right in the middle of it when he decided it was time to break
The car came to halt the water almost up to the door
He laughed and said “there now darling that’s what they made ya for”
He dropped her into low with the wheels making a watery sound
Then the spray came in the window as lowered it, to look around
Back on his mission when he had almost topped the hill
The engine making a noise that could only be described as shrill
Somehow the jeep got side ways as it skidded into a tree
But grandad revved her up and very soon they broke free
It wasn’t very far now as he saw through the rain to the very top
The jeep was going to make it, his jaw had slightly dropped
What the poor bugger didn’t know some rich man had bought the other side
He’d built a mansion on the cliff face that was his joy and his pride
Four stories of luxury with a view that was impossible to beat
A palace on a mountain where the bush and city meet
Grandad must’ve felt like he was a flamin bloody fool
As skidded through the landscaping across the marble edge and into the pool
It must have been a funny sight for the millionaire and his wife
To see the old bugger dog paddling so clearly in much strife
They fished him out together and he drunkardly tried to give a thank
Then they watched the bubbles disappear as the Jeep beneath the water sank
Well grandad told them it was the first time he had ever driven in town
The jeep was bloody tough but he’d doubt that his landcruiser woulda drowned
God lives inside hearts.
When I was young there was much haze
I lived a funny through the good ol bad ol days
My family thought most likely to fail
The school voted me most likely to go to jail
The Police looked twice for they knew my name
My brothers learnt quickly to pass the blame
In love, out of love, from one fall to the next
So many attempts to try and break my neck
All that I’ve done both good and bad
Just ask my!! Kids do they love their!! Dad
I started this group so we all could speak
Everyone has the choice to turn the other cheek
My standards are mine and I’ve been thru the gutter
I have the same knife for my steak my cheese and my butter
My God is in my heart not hidden inside some book of law
My God loves everyone; I think that should happen some more
Poetry group decisions.
It is seldom that I show ire or my emotions
The true person is seldom let out
My anger has seen me in trouble and my strength does doubt
It scares me when my other self is about
I want this group to work it is my peace on earth
I look forward to it every day
It is the place where I do some good where I know in my heart I should
You’re all friends and welcome to stay
Please consider others before you write
We are adults here and have not a government to fear
We can all get along for were searching for the same song
Three hours a month we find it here
Thank you for your attention and there is no need to sanction
Just don’t clap and you will make your point
So bring your poems to our table and let us laugh if were able
Because tomorrow you could drop dead.
Poem number four
I heard there was a rumour about a lacking sense of humour
That has left some people feeling a little cold
Well I really beg to differ as I hold my top lip stiffer
That a laugh’s a laugh come what may
If a mental picture you find creates an image in your mind
Then has not the poet done their job
If the words alone were not offensive but they made you feel defensive
Then the picture painted was truly clear
I do not wish to be a judge nor to lay down in the sludge
And I hope from this no one says good bye
For if are to set a list of rules well we end up as the fools
Because where different you know you and i
If you feel a strong objection you’re free to pen your rejection
And another group you may want to find
For if you think you can do better then become a real go getter
And start another group from scratch like we did
When I work in mental health, I place my feelings on the shelf
Try to act like I don’t really care
Then some one eight hours at me they stare and count the greys amongst my hair
It makes me look inside my self
There but for the grace of God goes you or I and I often wonder why
he chose them and not me,
but who is it that is free is it them or is it me,
sometimes I cry just let me be
When I am really feeling sad I have thoughts are just plain bad
And yet I’m free to come and go
I guess I know right from wrong
and these poor bastards aren’t that strong
and for that their labelled truly mad
Life is full of lessons.
I’ve learnt a lot from life
But will the info stick
I’ve heard from many people
At times I am quite thick
I’ve learnt a lot from life
And what about you
Are there many things
You would not again do
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Yes I’ve been burnt by love
But I’ll give it a go again
I might yet hold that dove
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Many adventures I have had
I’ve once been shot at
And I’m proud to be a dad
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Had my back to the wall
I’ve experienced nothingness
When will I see it all?
I’ve learnt a lot from life
I know how to give
I’ve learnt how to make money
Disappear like goin thru a sieve
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Like poetry and words
Not all people are good
Some can be absurd
I’ve learnt a lot from life
How to make a friend
I reckon I’ll be sad
When it comes to an end
Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534
But will the info stick
I’ve heard from many people
At times I am quite thick
I’ve learnt a lot from life
And what about you
Are there many things
You would not again do
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Yes I’ve been burnt by love
But I’ll give it a go again
I might yet hold that dove
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Many adventures I have had
I’ve once been shot at
And I’m proud to be a dad
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Had my back to the wall
I’ve experienced nothingness
When will I see it all?
I’ve learnt a lot from life
I know how to give
I’ve learnt how to make money
Disappear like goin thru a sieve
I’ve learnt a lot from life
Like poetry and words
Not all people are good
Some can be absurd
I’ve learnt a lot from life
How to make a friend
I reckon I’ll be sad
When it comes to an end
Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534
TV Mum's
My parents used to say to me
Come inside and watch TV
Come on in now it’s the end of the day
Sit down and rest and stop your play
The first TV mum that I recall
Was Ricardo’s wife Miss Lucille Ball
I remember the chocolates on an escalator
The speed they went by nearly ate her
The next Mum I remember really had the mettle
She was married to Pa and we called her Ma Kettle
I recall the time……….. Pa’s future was lookin so dim
When it went round the town …..she was expectin twins
The first Mum I wanted in motherly ways
Was the homely Mrs C from the ol’happy days
She could love and always gave good advice
Marion’s greatest asset was she was just nice!!
Another Mum I wanted for my own
Was married to Mr. Fred Flintstone
Wilma put up with all his daydreams
And never tired of his fate full schemes
An Aussie mum that really had, it
Was married to the bumbling Mr.Ted bullpit
Bruno and Craig tested her devotion
As Ted went from crisis to commotion
A really good Mum that had the whole parcel
Was Mrs. Kerrigan and she lived in her castle
Of the many mum’s she had it all
And in the pool room she had a ball
Her Darryl, Dale, Tracey, Steve and Wayne
Shared dinner every night and never complained
She could cook up a lamb chop ….make it a treat
The Kerrigan’s always came home… when it was time to eat
So many Mum’s… too many to recall
I enjoyed watching them… on my telly… one and all
From Mrs Berone with her sociopath cries
To the sweet hearted ……Elise Keaton.. in family ties
Every teenage boy dreamed of…. cuddling Mrs. Brady
And The lovely Mrs. Partridge, well she wasn’t too shady
And if you had a craving for linguini and pastramo
If you were brave….you could snuggle up…. with Carmel Soprano
If you’re feeling tough tattooed and you’d ride a bike
Then Gemma and her Son’s is a mum you might like
If you’re a little bit daft and you like women screaming
Then Rosanne may be the one….. about which you are dreaming
The Mum I’d like most… yes the best one for me
Has for over 20 years ……….been inside my TV
She takes all the madness and a little bit more
She puts up with hell and what ever’s in store
She loves her children and all their pets
She loves her husband and has aired her regrets
She’s tried to kill him, one time or two
Then she has renewed her vows and repeated I do
Everyone in the world…. knows her voice and her face
We all know her town, her colorful home place
I’ll give you a clue….. it is simple, and you’ll know
Her husband, well he, regularly, says…… Doh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
POETRY IN PARADISE May 2011 ©1028534
Come inside and watch TV
Come on in now it’s the end of the day
Sit down and rest and stop your play
The first TV mum that I recall
Was Ricardo’s wife Miss Lucille Ball
I remember the chocolates on an escalator
The speed they went by nearly ate her
The next Mum I remember really had the mettle
She was married to Pa and we called her Ma Kettle
I recall the time……….. Pa’s future was lookin so dim
When it went round the town …..she was expectin twins
The first Mum I wanted in motherly ways
Was the homely Mrs C from the ol’happy days
She could love and always gave good advice
Marion’s greatest asset was she was just nice!!
Another Mum I wanted for my own
Was married to Mr. Fred Flintstone
Wilma put up with all his daydreams
And never tired of his fate full schemes
An Aussie mum that really had, it
Was married to the bumbling Mr.Ted bullpit
Bruno and Craig tested her devotion
As Ted went from crisis to commotion
A really good Mum that had the whole parcel
Was Mrs. Kerrigan and she lived in her castle
Of the many mum’s she had it all
And in the pool room she had a ball
Her Darryl, Dale, Tracey, Steve and Wayne
Shared dinner every night and never complained
She could cook up a lamb chop ….make it a treat
The Kerrigan’s always came home… when it was time to eat
So many Mum’s… too many to recall
I enjoyed watching them… on my telly… one and all
From Mrs Berone with her sociopath cries
To the sweet hearted ……Elise Keaton.. in family ties
Every teenage boy dreamed of…. cuddling Mrs. Brady
And The lovely Mrs. Partridge, well she wasn’t too shady
And if you had a craving for linguini and pastramo
If you were brave….you could snuggle up…. with Carmel Soprano
If you’re feeling tough tattooed and you’d ride a bike
Then Gemma and her Son’s is a mum you might like
If you’re a little bit daft and you like women screaming
Then Rosanne may be the one….. about which you are dreaming
The Mum I’d like most… yes the best one for me
Has for over 20 years ……….been inside my TV
She takes all the madness and a little bit more
She puts up with hell and what ever’s in store
She loves her children and all their pets
She loves her husband and has aired her regrets
She’s tried to kill him, one time or two
Then she has renewed her vows and repeated I do
Everyone in the world…. knows her voice and her face
We all know her town, her colorful home place
I’ll give you a clue….. it is simple, and you’ll know
Her husband, well he, regularly, says…… Doh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
POETRY IN PARADISE May 2011 ©1028534
The Poetic Virgin, (Written 2004)
The Poetic Virgin
I heard about a poetry group
I thought that I may go
Then I wondered who would be there
And now I just don’t know.
Would they all be professionals?Even though the ad said they are not
Will they be wearing poetry uniforms?
That’s something I haven’t got.
Will they all be women?
Will they be young or grey?
Are there any men there?
And would they all be gay?
What if my poems are crap
And they all laugh at me?
The ad did say no judging
And the subject theme was free.
Decisions decisions
Are such hard things to make?
Do I be adventurous?
Such a chance should I take?
Bring your friends along it saidYes come along one and all.
You can be a supporter
Or sip your coffee and be enthralled.
Life is such a dilemma
I just don’t know what to do
Just what does a poet look like?
Are they just like me and you?
I guess I’ll just have to front up,
Stick out my chin and stand up tallAll my questions will be answeredWhen I walk into that hall.
I’m sure they're all just human
And most will be more nervous than me.
If I’m not brave enough to read something
Then I’ll just smile and drink all of the coffee.
So come along one and all.
Yes! Lets all decide to go.
We’ll see what a poet looks like
Then next time we’ll all know.
(c) Copyright Poetry in Paradise 2004 Trade mark no. 1028534. Jeffrey.N.Goudy
I heard about a poetry group
I thought that I may go
Then I wondered who would be there
And now I just don’t know.
Would they all be professionals?Even though the ad said they are not
Will they be wearing poetry uniforms?
That’s something I haven’t got.
Will they all be women?
Will they be young or grey?
Are there any men there?
And would they all be gay?
What if my poems are crap
And they all laugh at me?
The ad did say no judging
And the subject theme was free.
Decisions decisions
Are such hard things to make?
Do I be adventurous?
Such a chance should I take?
Bring your friends along it saidYes come along one and all.
You can be a supporter
Or sip your coffee and be enthralled.
Life is such a dilemma
I just don’t know what to do
Just what does a poet look like?
Are they just like me and you?
I guess I’ll just have to front up,
Stick out my chin and stand up tallAll my questions will be answeredWhen I walk into that hall.
I’m sure they're all just human
And most will be more nervous than me.
If I’m not brave enough to read something
Then I’ll just smile and drink all of the coffee.
So come along one and all.
Yes! Lets all decide to go.
We’ll see what a poet looks like
Then next time we’ll all know.
(c) Copyright Poetry in Paradise 2004 Trade mark no. 1028534. Jeffrey.N.Goudy
Honda's Shadow and OUR Children
Shadows
In 1999 I bought a brand new motor bike
It was big and it was blue and was one I really liked
It was really fast and man it could really go
It was a 1998 Honda VT Original Shadow
I had it several years and had to sell it to buy a Ute
I really really miss it, because it was really really beaut
It is an incredible feeling when you’re out there on the road
It’s just so good, your worries, you can temporarily unload
I was once 200 feet from lighting, riding in a storm
I just kept on going forward, for you see, to ride I was born
This is a true feeling and no I have not lied
The other way to look at it is, well, I live to ride
When I graduate from Uni and I have a full time job
The Honda shop in Brisbane I will definitely lob
My face will look brighter and you may say that I glow
As I ride off on my brand new 2010 Honda Silver Shadow
OUR CHILDREN
A mother’s love.
A mother’s love is such a special thing
Made of gold just like a wedding ring
A mother gives her love so clean and pure
To those she cherishes it is a cure
A mother teaches her child to grow
To respect their life and to let it show
A mother’s love is such a gift
It can build a bridge and heal a rift
My mother’s greatest gift to date
Was shielding me from the wrath of hate
Always keeping me out of harm’s way
Making me the loving mother that I am today
To my children I have passed on her advice
To be a good person and always be nice
To love their mum and their Nana too
To their own selves always be true
I thank my mother each and every day
I see her in my life in every way
My children will learn from her through me
I’ll be the best mother I can ever be
I love my mum and she loves that fact
I’ve taught my children and they love me back
Jeff Goudy 2009 Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534http://joansmallpoetryandbooks.com/poetry_in_paradise.html
In 1999 I bought a brand new motor bike
It was big and it was blue and was one I really liked
It was really fast and man it could really go
It was a 1998 Honda VT Original Shadow
I had it several years and had to sell it to buy a Ute
I really really miss it, because it was really really beaut
It is an incredible feeling when you’re out there on the road
It’s just so good, your worries, you can temporarily unload
I was once 200 feet from lighting, riding in a storm
I just kept on going forward, for you see, to ride I was born
This is a true feeling and no I have not lied
The other way to look at it is, well, I live to ride
When I graduate from Uni and I have a full time job
The Honda shop in Brisbane I will definitely lob
My face will look brighter and you may say that I glow
As I ride off on my brand new 2010 Honda Silver Shadow
OUR CHILDREN
A mother’s love.
A mother’s love is such a special thing
Made of gold just like a wedding ring
A mother gives her love so clean and pure
To those she cherishes it is a cure
A mother teaches her child to grow
To respect their life and to let it show
A mother’s love is such a gift
It can build a bridge and heal a rift
My mother’s greatest gift to date
Was shielding me from the wrath of hate
Always keeping me out of harm’s way
Making me the loving mother that I am today
To my children I have passed on her advice
To be a good person and always be nice
To love their mum and their Nana too
To their own selves always be true
I thank my mother each and every day
I see her in my life in every way
My children will learn from her through me
I’ll be the best mother I can ever be
I love my mum and she loves that fact
I’ve taught my children and they love me back
Jeff Goudy 2009 Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534http://joansmallpoetryandbooks.com/poetry_in_paradise.html
June Report 2011
Winter was well and truly present on Sunday morning as I sat out in the sun waiting for the library to open; I was very near to about thirty keen library goers that crowded over by the door from 11:45am, they were in the shade. The knitting group did not require the meeting room so there was no double booking and we were able to go in there as per usual. Damien arrived early and assisted me with all the gear and the food, thank you Damien.
Next month on the Sunday of our poetry recital, Penny has decided to open her Coffee shop in the foyer of the library, to provide Poetry in Paradise attendee’s with Coffee and Cake along with a limited choice of hot food such as sausage roll’s or pies. It would be really great if everyone could purchase something to support her efforts, Penny works six days a week in her own small business. Both Di and I on separate occasions have enjoyed her coffee and can testify to its quality and that the food is always fresh. Penny will be there from about 12:30 to 3pm, depending on our support and the volume of passing trade once we are inside.
On the Saturday night before the June recital some of my family was over for dinner and along with Irene they got to witness the first test run of my newly built podium for poetry, it was the second one constructed by myself alone. Everyone present was very impressed with my construction efforts and Irene was particularly proud of my efforts. Unfortunately due to her work commitments Irene could not be there on Sunday for the official public unveiling of the fourth podium for recitation. A carpenter would laugh at my efforts and a cabinet maker would cry in pain at my ability to create an even joint. I however am very proud of my efforts, from the concept visualization in my head, to a six inch replica constructed from cut out paper, to the actual finished product as per the attached photo. My Mum and Stepdad were impressed and that is a pretty good compliment based on my historical recollection of their praise. The multi use/height construction was admired by many and used appropriately by all my colleagues in our group. I reckon it’s all right and my poem referring to the tale of its creation was well received. By next month’s meeting date I will have the podium stained and it will be finished.
Last month Allen rewrote an AB Patterson classic, ‘Lost’, he made it modern with the use of cars and mobile phones while retaining the sense of grief and sorrow effectively. His efforts inspired me to attempt the same challenge as ‘Lost’ is one of my favorite works; my rendition was also modern and focused on the gambling addiction of modern politics; and the lives it is destroying. Bob was entertaining with his humorous ode to “Big Brother” and its intrusion into all our lives, his second poem was a sentiment shared by most of us Men, the difference in the internal furnace of the human body between Men and Woman, their desire to lay down in a bed in winter that Satan himself would consider hot, not to mention their ability to stand in a pot of boiling water that is ready for fresh lobster insertion, that they actually call a shower and can stay in there for thirty minutes!!!!, while asking innocently “wont you join me honey?”
Joan shared a proud historical family moment, possibly foreseen by her Grandmother telling her Mother to always be clean and tidy because you never know one day the Queen might drop in for tea!! Joan’s Mum was the president of the CWA in Tennant Creek NT and she actually had to prepare afternoon tea for Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip on their visit to Australia when they dropped into Tennant Creek. Joan’s second poem was on the big brother theme but it was a good big brother story as her three Grandsons, Billy Aaron and Daniel helped and watched each other race motor cycles around the track while Joan proudly watched their camaraderie. Joan then beautifully questioned our knowledge of self with her third poem about the moon and how though it is always there in whole we often can only see part of it, a well written thought provoking achievement.
Rita went to the Queens party and her poem recited the list of Queens in attendance, from the Queen of Pop to Drag Queens, Moomba Queens, Queen of the pool, Queen Bea and our own Queen to be from Tassie. Rita’s second poem was about her friends the “Kirks” and their brand new flash top the pile state of the art camper van, encountered and shared on their recent two week holiday in Woolgoolga. Rita’s third poem was a very powerful piece about how a friend of hers finally got to meet a Son she had reluctantly adopted out forty years earlier, her fourth poem was about the sad loss of her daughters dog of many years and how much it is missed by Jack and Cooper. Damien let us in on his dream to be a spaceman and travel the universe with a beautiful waitress in perpetual motion and discover all the good things it has to offer; he reminded us to dream of answers and to always maintain hope and he wished us all prosperity for the future. Judi agreed that Big Brother is over the top and that the intrusion is unnecessary and unwanted, Judi didn’t have time to write a second poem as she is preparing for a holiday with her family. Jean wrote a beautifully descriptive poem about the Queens party and made us all feel like we were there walking across the manicured lawns while the Queen dazzled the guests with her blue eyes and her colour coordinated outfit, her second poem was also on the theme of Big Brother and her humorous tale hoped that Big Brother would turn on its self and implode.
Cedric made an unexpected long awaited return to the fold, having been one of the originals that came along to our second venue in June 2004 the Evergreen Restaurant (First venue was Christabella’s at Harbor Town March April May 2004), I think Joan, Bob Cedric and Bette, Dancin Dan and Lydia and Sue were amongst the first to attend. Cedric’s first poem explained and apologized for his absence and the ink was still fresh as he wrote while drinking his morning coffee on that day, his second poem was a tribute to his first three kisses, first was his Mum second was a teenage romance and the third was the best ever kiss of them all as he still kisses her every day, she was the one he married, his Bette!!! His third poem was an exceptional poem he penned in 2005 titled “The hollow log” a fantastic metaphorical poem.
Gloria made it along but had no new poems to share so she was able to enjoy the whole afternoon relaxed, Vincent read an apology poem from Alex who is off visiting family and I read an apology poem from Joyce and Mac who were off celebrating 60 wonderful years of love and marriage, hope they had a wonderful anniversary, with each other and all their family. Marta and David could not make it as they are away again.
Paul recited an emotion stirring tribute to his Great Uncle that fought in Gallipoli and Egypt and gave his life for our freedom, along with some of his school mates and many other young Aussie lads. His second poem was an inspirational tale about his young daughter and her efforts as part of a rowing team and their reward for participation in racing as a team, reminding us of the Aussie spirit of hanging in there and never giving up!! His third poem titled “The Auctioneer” was his usual high standard and went over well with everyone especially Cedric who had a similar upbringing to Paul. His fourth poem was one of the ones he is performing at the Ekka in his first entry into the world of performance poetry, good luck Paul we know you will win the novice section, with a poem like “The first of 17 wins” and your confidence and style we know you will give it your best.
Vincent recited some short poems and some limericks on his first time round and I don’t usually include poems in the report but one of his was as follows, Rusted three pin plug- Water lapping all round- wrong kind of current. His second turn at the podium was like the first but different, included a limerick about Nelson Mandela and some short poems, he is a born entertainer and casually proves it every month. Eoin wrote a quick limerick about the Queen and made us all laugh; he then made us all cry remembering the beautiful, but way to short, time he got to spend with his lovely Mum who passed away in 2002. His second poem was on the Big Brother theme and his anger at the invasion into our privacy, he also reminded us that we have our own built in Big Brother, our very own conscious, his third poem was also very emotion stirring as it was about a story known to all Australians the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels along the Owen Stanley Track, known as the Kokoda trail officially since 1972, well done Eoin.
Oct 12, 1972 - On 12 October 1972 the name 'Kokoda Trail' was proclaimed in the Government Gazette of Papua New Guinea. This proclamation has never been amended or rescinded so the official name of the track over the Owen Stanley Range between Owens Corner and Kokoda is 'The Kokoda Trail
Di recited a poem she stated was based in science fiction and she included a hand drawn picture on the white board of a plant growing into the heavens and blooming with oxygen bubbles as flowers, titled “2050 Super growth”, very well written and very powerful, her second poem was a lovely journey into the human heart that explored the feeling of longing for a friend dearly missed. Then Roger burst onto the scene with a poem about the Queen, not the one some think treated Di the worst but one we know as Lizzie the first!!; he recited a tale as funny as true about the Queen from past sometimes known as a shrew!!, some in the audience just did not agree but as there’s no judging they let him off Scot free. His second poem was about poor Ross’s loss and how with his flash new four wheel drive he was a bit of a toss, then he told a tale of an Indian and he exaggerated a bit about some John Wayne paper and how it didn’t take ....it!!
Kathy intelligently and at times humorously explored the many uses for the word ‘fall’ and how it is so versatile, oh the wonders of the English language. Her second poem was created after much supermarket research and involved the help of an inquisitive employee, her topic was toilet paper and was inspired by the confusing multitude of those little squares on offer for the pampering of our derrieres, I’m glad we’ve come a long way from used corn cobs and left hands to today’s sensitive unbleached tree friendly micro fibred naturally scented biodegradable five ply two hundred sheeted rolls so we can all spoil our bums!!
Trish bought many a tear to the eye with her well written tribute to the fallen Gold Coast Queensland Police Officer Detective Senior Sergeant Damien Leading and his poor family that have to go without a husband and father, those poor little babies and his brave wife. Her second poem was an oldie but a goody when Trish wrote about motorcycles and how in Tahiti she had once been on the back of a scooter with an officer and a gentleman and it confirmed her liking for doors and four wheels when on the road. Pat came along and she shared her poem about the Queens party and all the members of the royal family that would be present, she finished it with some advice for Queen Elizabeth, to come down under and instead of the pomp and pageantry have a good old fashioned Aussie BBQ on the lawns of Kirribilli, why not!!!
Joan and Jean ended the day with the offer of a refresher workshop next month at 1200!!! on meter and rhyme in the library meeting room just before the poetry starts, please come along if you’re interested, no need to book just be there at 1200. Bob closed the day with a comical tale of teddy bears and novelty prizes for performance in the workshop on the good old Aussie work bench.
See you all next month and take care, be happy and live life to the full. From Jeff Irene and all the poets at Poetry in Paradise. June 2011.
Next month on the Sunday of our poetry recital, Penny has decided to open her Coffee shop in the foyer of the library, to provide Poetry in Paradise attendee’s with Coffee and Cake along with a limited choice of hot food such as sausage roll’s or pies. It would be really great if everyone could purchase something to support her efforts, Penny works six days a week in her own small business. Both Di and I on separate occasions have enjoyed her coffee and can testify to its quality and that the food is always fresh. Penny will be there from about 12:30 to 3pm, depending on our support and the volume of passing trade once we are inside.
On the Saturday night before the June recital some of my family was over for dinner and along with Irene they got to witness the first test run of my newly built podium for poetry, it was the second one constructed by myself alone. Everyone present was very impressed with my construction efforts and Irene was particularly proud of my efforts. Unfortunately due to her work commitments Irene could not be there on Sunday for the official public unveiling of the fourth podium for recitation. A carpenter would laugh at my efforts and a cabinet maker would cry in pain at my ability to create an even joint. I however am very proud of my efforts, from the concept visualization in my head, to a six inch replica constructed from cut out paper, to the actual finished product as per the attached photo. My Mum and Stepdad were impressed and that is a pretty good compliment based on my historical recollection of their praise. The multi use/height construction was admired by many and used appropriately by all my colleagues in our group. I reckon it’s all right and my poem referring to the tale of its creation was well received. By next month’s meeting date I will have the podium stained and it will be finished.
Last month Allen rewrote an AB Patterson classic, ‘Lost’, he made it modern with the use of cars and mobile phones while retaining the sense of grief and sorrow effectively. His efforts inspired me to attempt the same challenge as ‘Lost’ is one of my favorite works; my rendition was also modern and focused on the gambling addiction of modern politics; and the lives it is destroying. Bob was entertaining with his humorous ode to “Big Brother” and its intrusion into all our lives, his second poem was a sentiment shared by most of us Men, the difference in the internal furnace of the human body between Men and Woman, their desire to lay down in a bed in winter that Satan himself would consider hot, not to mention their ability to stand in a pot of boiling water that is ready for fresh lobster insertion, that they actually call a shower and can stay in there for thirty minutes!!!!, while asking innocently “wont you join me honey?”
Joan shared a proud historical family moment, possibly foreseen by her Grandmother telling her Mother to always be clean and tidy because you never know one day the Queen might drop in for tea!! Joan’s Mum was the president of the CWA in Tennant Creek NT and she actually had to prepare afternoon tea for Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip on their visit to Australia when they dropped into Tennant Creek. Joan’s second poem was on the big brother theme but it was a good big brother story as her three Grandsons, Billy Aaron and Daniel helped and watched each other race motor cycles around the track while Joan proudly watched their camaraderie. Joan then beautifully questioned our knowledge of self with her third poem about the moon and how though it is always there in whole we often can only see part of it, a well written thought provoking achievement.
Rita went to the Queens party and her poem recited the list of Queens in attendance, from the Queen of Pop to Drag Queens, Moomba Queens, Queen of the pool, Queen Bea and our own Queen to be from Tassie. Rita’s second poem was about her friends the “Kirks” and their brand new flash top the pile state of the art camper van, encountered and shared on their recent two week holiday in Woolgoolga. Rita’s third poem was a very powerful piece about how a friend of hers finally got to meet a Son she had reluctantly adopted out forty years earlier, her fourth poem was about the sad loss of her daughters dog of many years and how much it is missed by Jack and Cooper. Damien let us in on his dream to be a spaceman and travel the universe with a beautiful waitress in perpetual motion and discover all the good things it has to offer; he reminded us to dream of answers and to always maintain hope and he wished us all prosperity for the future. Judi agreed that Big Brother is over the top and that the intrusion is unnecessary and unwanted, Judi didn’t have time to write a second poem as she is preparing for a holiday with her family. Jean wrote a beautifully descriptive poem about the Queens party and made us all feel like we were there walking across the manicured lawns while the Queen dazzled the guests with her blue eyes and her colour coordinated outfit, her second poem was also on the theme of Big Brother and her humorous tale hoped that Big Brother would turn on its self and implode.
Cedric made an unexpected long awaited return to the fold, having been one of the originals that came along to our second venue in June 2004 the Evergreen Restaurant (First venue was Christabella’s at Harbor Town March April May 2004), I think Joan, Bob Cedric and Bette, Dancin Dan and Lydia and Sue were amongst the first to attend. Cedric’s first poem explained and apologized for his absence and the ink was still fresh as he wrote while drinking his morning coffee on that day, his second poem was a tribute to his first three kisses, first was his Mum second was a teenage romance and the third was the best ever kiss of them all as he still kisses her every day, she was the one he married, his Bette!!! His third poem was an exceptional poem he penned in 2005 titled “The hollow log” a fantastic metaphorical poem.
Gloria made it along but had no new poems to share so she was able to enjoy the whole afternoon relaxed, Vincent read an apology poem from Alex who is off visiting family and I read an apology poem from Joyce and Mac who were off celebrating 60 wonderful years of love and marriage, hope they had a wonderful anniversary, with each other and all their family. Marta and David could not make it as they are away again.
Paul recited an emotion stirring tribute to his Great Uncle that fought in Gallipoli and Egypt and gave his life for our freedom, along with some of his school mates and many other young Aussie lads. His second poem was an inspirational tale about his young daughter and her efforts as part of a rowing team and their reward for participation in racing as a team, reminding us of the Aussie spirit of hanging in there and never giving up!! His third poem titled “The Auctioneer” was his usual high standard and went over well with everyone especially Cedric who had a similar upbringing to Paul. His fourth poem was one of the ones he is performing at the Ekka in his first entry into the world of performance poetry, good luck Paul we know you will win the novice section, with a poem like “The first of 17 wins” and your confidence and style we know you will give it your best.
Vincent recited some short poems and some limericks on his first time round and I don’t usually include poems in the report but one of his was as follows, Rusted three pin plug- Water lapping all round- wrong kind of current. His second turn at the podium was like the first but different, included a limerick about Nelson Mandela and some short poems, he is a born entertainer and casually proves it every month. Eoin wrote a quick limerick about the Queen and made us all laugh; he then made us all cry remembering the beautiful, but way to short, time he got to spend with his lovely Mum who passed away in 2002. His second poem was on the Big Brother theme and his anger at the invasion into our privacy, he also reminded us that we have our own built in Big Brother, our very own conscious, his third poem was also very emotion stirring as it was about a story known to all Australians the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels along the Owen Stanley Track, known as the Kokoda trail officially since 1972, well done Eoin.
Oct 12, 1972 - On 12 October 1972 the name 'Kokoda Trail' was proclaimed in the Government Gazette of Papua New Guinea. This proclamation has never been amended or rescinded so the official name of the track over the Owen Stanley Range between Owens Corner and Kokoda is 'The Kokoda Trail
Di recited a poem she stated was based in science fiction and she included a hand drawn picture on the white board of a plant growing into the heavens and blooming with oxygen bubbles as flowers, titled “2050 Super growth”, very well written and very powerful, her second poem was a lovely journey into the human heart that explored the feeling of longing for a friend dearly missed. Then Roger burst onto the scene with a poem about the Queen, not the one some think treated Di the worst but one we know as Lizzie the first!!; he recited a tale as funny as true about the Queen from past sometimes known as a shrew!!, some in the audience just did not agree but as there’s no judging they let him off Scot free. His second poem was about poor Ross’s loss and how with his flash new four wheel drive he was a bit of a toss, then he told a tale of an Indian and he exaggerated a bit about some John Wayne paper and how it didn’t take ....it!!
Kathy intelligently and at times humorously explored the many uses for the word ‘fall’ and how it is so versatile, oh the wonders of the English language. Her second poem was created after much supermarket research and involved the help of an inquisitive employee, her topic was toilet paper and was inspired by the confusing multitude of those little squares on offer for the pampering of our derrieres, I’m glad we’ve come a long way from used corn cobs and left hands to today’s sensitive unbleached tree friendly micro fibred naturally scented biodegradable five ply two hundred sheeted rolls so we can all spoil our bums!!
Trish bought many a tear to the eye with her well written tribute to the fallen Gold Coast Queensland Police Officer Detective Senior Sergeant Damien Leading and his poor family that have to go without a husband and father, those poor little babies and his brave wife. Her second poem was an oldie but a goody when Trish wrote about motorcycles and how in Tahiti she had once been on the back of a scooter with an officer and a gentleman and it confirmed her liking for doors and four wheels when on the road. Pat came along and she shared her poem about the Queens party and all the members of the royal family that would be present, she finished it with some advice for Queen Elizabeth, to come down under and instead of the pomp and pageantry have a good old fashioned Aussie BBQ on the lawns of Kirribilli, why not!!!
Joan and Jean ended the day with the offer of a refresher workshop next month at 1200!!! on meter and rhyme in the library meeting room just before the poetry starts, please come along if you’re interested, no need to book just be there at 1200. Bob closed the day with a comical tale of teddy bears and novelty prizes for performance in the workshop on the good old Aussie work bench.
See you all next month and take care, be happy and live life to the full. From Jeff Irene and all the poets at Poetry in Paradise. June 2011.
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