Microaggression

Tags

Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Microaggression, poem, poetry

‘You’re beautiful – I like your hair.
You’re fabulous – your face is fair.
Girl, I think you’re pretty…
So….. why be so shitty?’
“Your insults are so hard to bear!”

Birthday Girl

Tags

limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

It’s Hillary’s birthday today.
You’re 68 – hip hip hooray!
Many happy returns!
Try some ice on those burns.
Your present? New panties – Ok?

Smoking Out

Tags

Benghazi, Formal poetry, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

Hillary – Oh what a liar!
While she and her cronies conspire,
There rises to screen
That Benghazi scene –
The smoke from her knickers – afire.

Wacky Warlord Wisdom

Tags

Formal poetry, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

The Middle East needs its Saddams.
It needs strong dictators with arms.
It needs its Assads,
Gaddafis – with guards;
Tough tyrants, the Mussulman calms.

donald-trump-moammar-gadhafi-saddam-hussein

Barack the Blunt

Tags

Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

Were I in a fight for my life,
Surrounded by murder and strife,
On my side and shootin’
I’d much prefer Putin
To Barack – with his butter knife.

Putin – U.S. short-sighted and weak

Bushed

Tags

Jeb Bush, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

His donors have been on the phone.
They’re worried – “Get moving!” they moan.
Jeb’s ground to a halt,
Then pipes up some dolt –
‘Jeb – ask Donald Trump for a loan!’

money-and-enthusiasm-dry-up

The Gordian Knot – the untold story

Tags

Alexander the Great, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Gordian Knot, Gordias, Gordium, Midas, Phrygia, poem, poetry, Sabazios, Telmissus

Now the land of Phrygia, many years past,
Had no king, and the people were rather downcast
Till the Telmissus oracle made a decree
That a new king was coming, and that king would be
Seated in the next ox-cart that entered the town;
Yes, that driver, he said, must receive the royal crown.
So it then came to pass that an old peasant cove
Name of Gordias, into Telmissus he drove
In his ox-cart, in front of the priests as they prayed,
And thus Gordias, King of the Phrygians was made.
Now Midas his son was an upcoming lad
And he was exceedingly proud of his dad,
And so to Sabazios he dedicated
The ox-cart, but first a fine knot he created
That bound fast and tight the cart’s yoke to the shaft,
And when he was finished young Midas he laughed:
“I declare that in future who unties this thing –
Of Asia this man he will surely be king!”
The centuries passed and Telmissus decayed;
To Gordium then was the ox-cart conveyed
And there in the palace the cart was displayed,
Though the knot, many tried, tightly tied the knot stayed
Until on that day when the cold winds of fate
Blew in from the west, Alexander the Great.

Alexander rode in dressed in armour of gold
And he said: “I say chaps, if I may be so bold,
Where’s this Gordian knot? And I won’t tell a lie,
I’ve been practicing hard for your knot to untie.”
So they showed him the knot; on the cart it was tied;
Was of cornel wood bark, and for years had defied
Every twiddler and twister and keenest boy scout;
Not a man in the land, could this knot figure out.
So the puzzle, did Great Alexander inspect,
And no ends and no starts did his keen eyes detect.
Then he said: “Damn and blast! I must untie this thing,
Or of Asia, apparently, I can’t be king.”
Then he had an idea and he whipped out his sword;
With his usual flair, Alexander ignored
All the rules, as he struck at the knot with a laugh:
“Ha ha ha!” and he split the knot cleanly in half.
Then he mounted his horse, bid the Phrygians: “Goodbye!
I’ve an empire to conquer, I really must fly!”
And he left Gordium in a great cloud of dust
And the people of Phrygia somewhat nonplussed.

For this truly, for them, was a terrible day,
As they peered at their dismembered knot in dismay,
For their tourism industry needed that cart;
As they looked on, the yoke and the shaft fell apart.
A disaster! They knew they were in for a slump –
With no knot, why would anyone come to this dump?
So they twisted some bark; made a long length of twine,
And with strangle and granny, half-hitch and bow-line,
They constructed a knot, that while not like the old,
It was ten times as big, and for sure it would hold,
And was so convoluted no one could untie it,
And in any case, few would get near to try it,
And thus was their earner, the knot, back on track –

As long as that smart Alec never came back.

Restoring Blissful Ignorance

Tags

australian formal poetry, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

The news has improved quite a lot.
Much less of that negative rot.
My words I won’t mince:
It’s more peaceful since
We had that damned messenger shot!

Swedistan

Tags

Australian traditional poetry, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

Remember the fair-headed Swede?
He’s being replaced by a breed
Whose face is not fair,
Nor blond is his hair,
And quite problematic, his creed.

sweden-is-approaching-the-limit

Sand Blasted

Tags

Formal poetry, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

All my money in sand I invested,
Now I’m of my investment divested.
I thought sand safe as gold,
Only now I’ve been told –
The Sahara, with sand, is infested.

Sand mining shutdown