To The Dark State

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Renewable energy scams, Renewable power unreliability, South Australian blackouts, South Australian power crisis

I’m off to South Australia
Where the windmills sometimes turn,
But sometimes not, and then
It’s tons of diesel that they burn.
Where power is now the dearest
In the Western world by far,
And you’d better drive a Prius
If you want to drive a car.
Where on a windless, cloudy day
The lights will often fail.
Then South Australians pray for
Sunny weather and a gale.
Yes, Adelaide I’m coming!
Shining beacon of the arts,
Where sit the politicians
Putting horses behind carts.
They’re banning nuclear and coal;
They’d love to phase out oil,
Despite the fact the trains won’t run
And water jugs won’t boil.
But politicians are all fools;
Each one a dangerous pest,
And they won’t change, so I’ll conclude
With just this one request:
Please keep the lights on for that week –
The week that I’ll be there,
Then should you choose a darker state,
South Aussie – I don’t care.

South Australia blackouts

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The Greatest Question

Tags

Australian poet, Australian same-sex plebiscite, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Same-sex marriage, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, The leftist agenda

We’re told that the majority agree:
The pressing issue of this Commonwealth
Does not concern defence or industry.
It’s not the cost of energy, or health,
Or living – all of which advance by stealth.
Youth unemployment? No – it still will climb.
It has nothing to do with work or wealth,
Nor is it about terrorists or crime,
For it concerns the social paradigm;
To shift it – the quest of the Left’s vanguard,
Where values that have stood the test of time,
By plebiscite, they’re seeking to discard.
It seems the question will be put to bed,
And same-sex couples will or won’t be wed.

http://www.foxnews.com/world/2017/08/09/australia-to-hold-postal-plebiscite-on-same-sex-marriage.html

http://www.thepublicdiscourse.com/2013/03/9432/

Grand Canyon

Tags

Australian traditional poetry, Grand Canyon, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

It’s erosion upon a grand scale.
Were it man’s doing, how they would wail
Of such wanton destruction;
Heed Nature’s instruction –
Beside her great sculptures ours pale.

P

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, poem, poetry

A bonnie babe bounced on one’s knee,
A tree rising majestically,
A sailing ship breasting the sea,
The buzz of the bountiful bee,
A swallow aloft, flying free.

But glorious though these things be,
If you were to ask this of me:
“What is the most precious to thee?”
I’d answer: “My friend, but a pee,
performed satisfactorily.”

The Bronze

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Confederate statue removal, Confederate symbols, Demolition of monuments, Leftist fascists, poem, poetry, Statue destruction, Statue removal

The statue looked down on the world,
Gaze steady, and proud head held high.
Each morning the flag was unfurled.
Admirers would slowly pass by.

No sense of the passing of time,
The changing ways, or of his fate.
That he’d be convicted of crime –
Reminding the weak of the great.

The hammers and chisels would smash,
And he from his plinth would be thrown,
And down to the earth he would crash
And lie there dishonoured – alone.

But he’ll surely rise from the dust;
His body, though melted – transformed;
His bronze heart, it never will rust;
His spirit will not be reformed.

A Common Complaint

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Life of Brian, Monty Python, poem, poetry, Positive social impacts, Spenserian sonnet, Technology transfer, What do we owe the Romans?, Wilful blindness

What have the bloody Romans done for us?
And don’t dare say the roads and aqueducts.
Don’t cite the sanitation – make no fuss
About their Roman law – I think it sucks.
And sure we’ve better health and full stomachs;
Our fortunes increase and we all grow fat,
But we owe nothing to those Roman schmucks.
The Roman Peace! – I knew you’d mention that!
So what if they have peace-making down pat!
What have they done for us? I’d like to know!
Oh irrigation? – sure, they’re quite good at
Making the desert bloom – we now can grow
Such bumper crops. But answer me you clot!
What do we owe the Romans?…Well…a lot.

Monty Python – What have the Romans done for us?

Phony

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Cell Phones, Internet, Internet addiction, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Mobile phones, Phone addiction, poem, poetry, Social media addiction

They might as well be popping pills
As they trip on their internet thrills.
As they sit on their bums
And the data stream numbs –
Conversation, technology kills.

Scrub Turkeys

Tags

Australian bush poetry, Australian traditional poetry, Bush Poetry, Megapode, Mound builder, poem, poetry, Scrub Turkey

Of all bush structures, none can best
The grandeur of the turkey’s nest –
A mighty tower of twigs and leaves,
With claw and beak, each turkey weaves;
An oven, where the cock’s strong feet,
About the eggs, adjust the heat,
Until the chicks with chirp and cheep
Burst skywards from the rotting heap.

War of the Words

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, CNN fake news, Fake news, MSNBC, poem, poetry, Spenserian sonnet, Trump's tweets, Trump's war with the media

Trump grabs his gun and loads a telling tweet;
Takes careful aim and fires – another hit!
The media return fire – then retreat,
Regroup – once shining armour scorched and split;
It could not hold before Trump’s cutting wit.
They count their wounded – warning sirens sound!
Incoming tweet! – will Donald ever quit?
He’s got the scent – an Internet bloodhound
Who’ll keep on tweeting till they’re run to ground.
But they are not yet beaten – they’ll resist;
With fake news his positions they will pound.
They’re wounded so they’re dangerous – they’re pissed!
Their words are more explosive every day;
And they won’t let the truth get in their way.

At the Museum

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Conceptual Art, Fountain, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Marcel Duchamp, Marcel Duchamp's Fountain, poem, poetry, R Mutt

I dodged the urinal – gave it a miss;
I heard R. Mutt was there – taking the piss.

Fountain