Poetry Flyer November and December 2018. Meeting room open for social chat at 12 noon and poetry starts 1pm.

Poetry Flyer for 2018 Optional themes and optional first lines. 

                                  Themes                                          First Lines

JAN 21^st         –     Fake news                                       1-Treat each day as a gift and…..

FEB 18^th         –   Unwanted Mail.                             2-Toothpaste, Perspex and …….

MAR 18^th      –   My first kiss.                                     3-Okay buster here are some……..

APR 22^nd       – The Games                                         4- It was a disastrous date and ….

MAY 20^th       –  The fun of travelling                       5- Green snakes and green frogs…..

JUN 17^th         –   Dickhead Derby                         6- There is a clown in the room……

JUL 15^th          –  Family and friends              7-I’m trying to walk down the right path but…

AUG 19^th       –   Cynical Old People                        8- When I went to the zoo I ……..

SEP 16^th         –  Men and their gadgets.               9- If I could go back in time I would……….

OCT 21^st         –   Fairdinkum                               10-Living between the green and the gold is…

NOV 18^th       –   Indian Summer                          11-My falsity stung me like a hornet and I …

DEC 16^th         –   A minute to midnight.               12- We sat on our bed and ………

Fake News/Rupert's Usual

There is no unemployment 

Taxes are coming down

There are no homeless people 

sleeping in any town

Politicians are all honest 

Their standin by their word

giant corporations aren’t evil 

they don’t run the world

Universities are free

Hospitals are as well

Smokers have all given up

Knowin that they smell 

There is only one God

Religious indifference has ended

There are no invisible borders

No ones faith is now offended

People aren’t given silly labels

Based solely on their diet

Organic food is mandatory

Processed foods aren’t sold because no one would buy it 

War has been outlawed

No more weapons race

World leaders calmly meet 

They all talk face to face 

Pollution has been controlled

We’ve fixed the ozone layer

Were all living in peace 

Down under right across Australia  

There are no sexist pigs

We’re all treated with respect

no more bigots or racists

The Kardashsians packed up and left

We all get the old age pension

For the years that we’ve put in

The money is evenly shared out

So no one future is dark and dim 

There are no more pedophiles

Every child has an even chance 

No matter what your gender is

You get to have a wedding dance

Policemen aren’t corrupt 

We’ve brought an end to all crime

Everyone is so happy now 

and me,    I’m doing just fine

Poetry in Paradise Reg TM No. 1028534 2018

LGBTIAGF Poem

I met a cheerful group of people that were really quite inviting

We all came together to listen to the words they’d been writing

They peeled back all the layers and they spoke with an open heart

They shared some of their journey and of the times torn apart

All the colours of the rainbow came out in their verse

Some were very adlibbed while others quite rehearsed

 A common thread was to be a passionate human being

Not seen as some weirdo from mars that is dirty and unclean

You see labels are for jars they are not meant to be put on people

They’re slowly trying to bend the doctrines of an archaic steeple

Being told you’re not right for the feelings born inside your soul

You must fit inside a bursting picture frame show us some control

A lot of pain and hardship they have met along their way

Simple things we take for granted they have to fight for everyday

From what to wear and what to say and even how to talk

To where to go and who to know and how to properly walk

You cannot be yourself for you make others cringe in fear

You must say the words from a concrete path to fit in here

Boys don’t cry and a real man knows how to handle a drink

Girls wear pretty dresses and should go stand behind a sink

I believe in free speech for every person in all this land

Everyone needs a fair go and at times we all need a hand

We should not be judged in the person that we choose love

They say he loves us one and all the holy one up above

Poetry in Paradise 2018 Reg TM NO 1028534 

Me Dads Advice

I was working on my motorbike

A real labor of love

When my fingers got so sore

Tight like in a glove

It’s a real bastard getting old

Ran through my head

I packed it in at four pm

And  tottered off to bed

I went to put my bike boots on

Ended up on the ground

The only way to get them on

Was to do it sitting down

I got a bloody cramp in my foot

While asleep in bed

I had to get up and move around

A kind of pain I dread

I tried to stretch my toes out 

Crippled with a sting

Nothing made it any better

A sorry song I did sing

Getting up off the couch at night 

You’ll see a crooked man

It takes about five minutes

If I can follow the plan

It’s a real bastard getting old

Ran through my head

I packed it in at ten pm

And tottered off to bed

I collapsed upon my lovely bed

Then had to bloody pee

Getting up in a real panic

A funny site to see 

At two o’clock nature called

Replayed it all gain 

I could sleep twelve hours

When younger man

At four o’clock and six oclock 

Upon the merry go round

I can’t move a bloody limb

Without making a sound

It’s a real bastard getting old

Ran through my head

I packed it in at eight am

Stayed up out of bed

Getting old is bloody painful

My old man used to say

Something hurts every morning

That didn’t hurt yesterday

My feet are sore back is crook 

Ankles and knees go click

I can do just about anything

Just no where near as quick 

My life is good I’m still alive

I give thanks every day 

All me ache’s and pains are with me

They get me thru the day

I wouldn’t be dead for quid’s

Bobby said it and I agree

I will keep on going forward 

And I can still flaming see        

     Copyright Poetry in Paradise 11/05/18 Reg TM # 102853

Riding with Winston

The fun of travelling is a fun I’ve had little time to enjoy 

I was always really busy and game fully employed

My children have the travel bug they crossed many a sea

They are much organised to handle money better than me

I did ten years driving peoples lives around on the back of a truck

It’s a bloody hard job and the drivers never make a decent buck

I loved waking up each day in another town in another place

Meeting different people everyday a brand new smiling face 

I’ve drivin from the lovely Gold Coast, north west and south

I’ve  put in sixteen hour days keeping food in my families mouth

I’ve been ripped off over worked lied to and crossly under paid

I’ve been to the government but no recovery effort was ever made

I’ve lived in New South Wales Victoria good ol sunny Queensland 

I’ve drivin upon their western highways from Adelaide to Cairns

I’ve ridin my Triumph all the way to the beautiful Apple Isle 

In fact I think that trip for charity has seen my greatest ever smile 

I went on the Black Dog Ride standing up for a worthy cause with pride

Raising awareness and funds to help prevent the tragedy of suicide 

I saw so many people that have lived around that unimaginable pain

I’m trying to do my bit to help stop it from happening again and again

I’d like to do that trip again ride along with my brand new mates

Smile and wave at stranger as we travel from state to state 

Stopping in country towns to walk around and spread the word 

Doing our bit to make sure that the voice of hope is heard

I wonder where they’re going this year, which destination they have planned

I hope they have great numbers and a support vehicle is found and fully manned 

I want to join with them again next year and go to wherever it is that they choose

I want get rid of these post Black Dog Ride missing the open highway blues 

Copyright Poetry in Paradise 11/05/18 Reg TM No- 1028534

Blind Date

It was a disastrous date 

and it ended the worst 

she knew it wouldn’t be the last 

and it wasn’t the first

she’d been on a blind date 

two times before 

and this time was the last time 

she promised no more

he was so short and she was so tall 

he mumbled a lot 

and couldn’t dance at all, 

he didn’t own deodorant 

well that’s how it seemed 

and he was definitely not 

the man of her dreams, 

he asked her to go

buy her own drink 

and that made her angry

and caused her hopes to sink

he told her all about all of his ex’s 

then he listed alphabetically 

his latest medical expenses

he mentioned his mother 

how she helped him get dressed 

how she comes into the toilet 

when he gets distressed  

he was worried for his Dad 

sitting out in the car park

his eye sights not too good

when he drives in the dark

he told he farts a lot 

when he gets nervous

and his limp made him fail 

his application 

to join the service

he has a case worker now

at the local centrelink

and his brothers in jail 

he couldn’t give up the drink

his sister is pregnant 

and lives in the garage

she slept with her cousin

and he’s now at large

he even gave his 

old nanna a mention

Because now he’s her carer 

and it gets him a pension

he looked into her eyes

and he said tell me about you

I know I talk too much as I often do

So what is it Karen

that you do for a job

She asked rather quickly 

is your first name Rob

well no its Winston he said with a cough

she said sorry mate 

now you can run off 

22/04/18 Poetry in Paradise Reg TM No. 1028534 

To Joan Small 2017 RIP my friend

A lovely lady with perfect posture     

her friendship eagerly extended            

The English language, her use of grammar     

so keenly and stoutly defended       

  

I first met Joan more than ten years ago  

And her birthday will be remembered       

That’s something else that we had in common    

For both Joan and I were ‘Septembered’     

Joan tried hard to help me with my poems         

By showing them to me ‘dismembered’      

By counting the beat with her clapping hands      

My rough lines more rhythmically rendered            

  

I used to e-mail my reports to her

Joan would then send them back all bettered

After ten long years of her corrections

Joan said go forth-young man unfettered

When Joan gave me the news a year ago

With a face that was strong yet haunted

She remained positive and forged ahead      

Her enthusiasm undaunted                            

Her wit never dimmed but it strained her voice

It was like her words had defected

Many checks were ordered as time slipped by

The results carefully dissected 

The tests were diagnosed as ALS

it hit hard to realize her plight 

Her life had delivered battles before

But her strength usually won the fight

No loss of mind nor elegance was gone

her clear tone was always well spoken

we really missed her and her poetry

Joan fought hard and was never broken

Joan did not seek me for pity or help

Such was the raw courage she wielded

She kept smiling and thought positively

To her fate she gracefully yielded

Our friend has moved on she has gone away

I felt her soul as she ascended

Joan battled so long to stay with us

Now her pain has peacefully ended

I’ll miss her lovely smile her friendly way

For her faith I remain indebted

Live a full life was a motto of hers

Nothings gained when nothing’s attempted

Bye for now my friend and we’ll meet again

We leave this world the way we entered

I’ve learnt many things about life from you

You taught me how to be more centered

This poem’s not perfect I’m sure of that

You know I started out unlettered

Take out your red pen Joan and mark it now

Yes it does need to be corrected

There are so many forms of love to know

The friendship branch we shared, extended

So many hearts here will miss your soft light

A warmth on which we all depended 

I will close these words now and wish you well

As an angel you have been measured

I’ll keep my fondest memories of you

Dear Joan you will always be treasured

Poetry in Paradise Reg TM No. 1028534 2017

Tribute To Mac my FN Qld mate RIP 2018

Mac’s rewrite Pub with no beer 

It’s lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the tele at night where the wild geckos call
But there’s nothin’ so lonesome, so dull or so drear
Than to come to the library and Mac is not here 

Now Jefferies all anxious for the quota to come
There’s a faraway look on the face of everyone

Ted’s gone all cranky and Rogers acting queer
What a terrible place is the library now Mac is not here

Then Bobby rides up with his dry, dusty throat
He breasts up to the podium, pulls a page from his coat
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer
When Jeffrey says suddenly: “Mac’s no longer here”

Joyce is in the front row for his Lordship she waits
But Mac is not coming today to chime with his mates
She hurries for cover and she cringes with a tear
It’s a sad place for her now that Mac is not here

Then in comes ol’Tommy all covered with flies
He throws down his roll, wipes the sweat from his eyes
But when he is told he’ll say, “What’s this I hear?
“I’ve drivin fifty flamin’ miles and now Mac is not here”?”

Well ol’Banjo, the poet, the first time in his life
Has gone home real early to his darling wife
He walks in the kitchen: she says: “You’re early, my dear”
Then he breaks down and tells her that Mac’s is not here

Well it’s lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the tele at night where the wild geckos call
But there’s nothin’ so lonesome, so dull or so drear
Than to stand in the library and know Mac is not here 

Well we’ll keep writing poetry for its part of our life

We’ll look after you Joyce for you’re Macs darling wife 

There’s nothing more certain or most totally clear

We will always be mindful now Mac is not here 

Inspired by words from Dan Sheahan