Basic Training

Tags

limericks, poem, poetry

Take some pointers my fine young recruit:
Just stand back, let the mob burn and loot.
Well of course they will rob
But remember your job
Is at stake, so for God’s sake don’t shoot.

Hidden Heat

Tags

Australian Jihadists, ISIS, Islamic State, Jihad supporters, Jihadists, limerick, Moderate Muslims, poem, poetry

Of course most are peace-loving folk.
Your cruel condemnation’s a joke.
Some have gone to the fight;
Quite a few think it’s right.
Some have burst into flame – some just smoke.

Dead Weight

Tags

limericks, poem, poetry

You’re oppressed and you’re under the whip.
Be a victim – give plenty of lip.
Belt em, bash em, and burn em,
Ya see! – that’ll learn em!
Your shoulder supports quite a chip.

Numbers Game

Tags

limerick, poem, poetry

You’ve cheated, that’s fine, you can stay.
Don’t mind what those other guys say.
You’ve broken the rules
But we’re not complete fools;
We know you’ll be voting our way.

Fat Splat

Tags

Fat Jihadists, Hoisted by one's own petard, jihad, Jihadist, limerick, poem, poetry

The Jihadist who’d packed on the lard
Thought that it wouldn’t be very hard
To be rigged as a bomb
By his sister and Mom
And be hoisted by his own petard.

Obese Jihadists

Vanished Verse

Tags

poem, poetry

Perhaps there’s nothing worse
Than toiling to rhyme verse
For hours and hours; to slave,
Then carefully to save
It to external drive
Which then takes a swan dive;
Surrenders all its digits,
Its cookies and its widgets.

My short-term memory
Is just a memory,
And so I can’t recall
Those words I wrote – at all.
Oh well, it is a pity
I’ve lost that little ditty
But since it’s surely dead,
I’m heading off to bed.

Royal Visit

Tags

Barack Obama, G20 Brisbane Obama address, limerick, poem, poetry, U.S. President Barrier Reef remarks

The King of America came.
He told us we must lift our game:
“For your reef it is dying!”
He knew he was lying;
Is this guy devoid of all shame?

(But then he’s a duck that’s quite lame.)

Castle Obama

Tags

poem, poetry

The White House may soon have a moat.
An idea that may sink or float.
That six feet of water
Should stop them – it oughter.
(As long as they don’t have a boat)

White House Moat

No Pressure

Tags

Comet landing, Matt Taylor, Matt taylor apologises, poem, poetry

I suppose he had a choice – his job or pride;

He chose the first, they gloated as he cried.

Matt apologizes for shirt, that’s the main thing – who cares about the comet landing?

Ned’s Head

Tags

Australian bush poetry, Australian traditional poetry, Kelly Gang, Ned Kelly, poem, poetry

Ned Kelly, Australia’s celebrated bushranger, was hanged in 1880
at the age of 25 years. His body was buried in an unmarked grave
but his skeleton minus the head but with a piece of skull has been
recovered and finally buried.

Apparently someone has found his head,
(Or part of it, a piece of skull they said)
Which had been lost and lonely for some time
Since it and body parted ways back then.

They are quite sure it is the head of Ned;
The bushranger they hanged when in his prime;
A hero and a light to lesser men.

They have his bones, they pried them from his bed.
Quite well preserved despite the earth and lime,
So skeleton and head may meet again.

A riddle when alive – a puzzle dead.
Still, most agree it hardly is a crime
To put him back together if we can.