Adventureold Poems | Examples

Old Soul - For My Gracie

I think you have
An old soul inside
That reveals itself
Only to me
You embrace me
Knowing that 
I need you to
Girl of my womb
Your hair soft
Under my nose
And you squeeze 
Me so tight
As if you've known
Me longer than
Your six years
Your old soul
Warming mine
old

The Vicks

The vicks
Johnson is me poor old name,
Brisbane town is where I’m staying,
Had 100 jobs I’m saying,
A some times Diversional Therapist.
(entertain the old n decrepid)

Tried burying for half a week,
Wouldn’t let me smile, or squeak,
Drove a council bus,
 punched out a few,
Who’d fight, no fuss.

Bouncer in the Valley,
Loved the chicks,
Woke up in strange beds with hicks
Accidently used the vicks,
Talk about the ring of fire?

Don Johnson 21-july-11
 

 tracie edwards
Contest Name	Getting to know you
Form: Rhyme


Saddle Old Brownie

Saddle old Brownie

A saddle on me old brown horse,
To ride away into  the sunset,
Light swag on me old pack of course,
Nother horse called my Regret.

Carry flour for damper or tasty fried scones,
Sugar n tea, few spuds n onions,
Carry a stockwhip to flog off the dogs,
Or galahs with the loony some ones.

Camp every night by blazing fire light,
Out where the Coolabahs sway,
Dip water from the river and boil,
Gumleaf smelling tea today.

Seach for mussels at the waters edge,
Put him on the hook today,
Catch em a cod, good tucker by God,
Spit out the bones I may, 
Protein  n calcium hey….
Don Johnson 20-july-11
Form: Rhyme

Bore Drain Tucker

Bore drain tucker   (stock water channel, cross country from an Artesian bore)

Waiting for a feed on the old bore drain,   
Maybe, might not ever rain?
Have me 4 gallon tin full of holes,
To let ole shrimp in,
Or crayfish sweet n old.

Bit of old meat, tied in the tin,
Come on lobby, just jump in,
Reef her out, quickly now,
Shrinps n lobbys tucker, chow.

Put another can on the fire,
Boil em up now, Jeeves esquire,
Sitting on a termite mound,
Sucking scoffing shrimpy down,   (like prawns)
Aussie boil here on the ground:

Don Johnson 15-july-11
old
Form: Rhyme

Amoura

Guess i'm too old n you're too young,
parents would probably have me  hung.
Though i'm as healthy as a horse,
They wont let me in this race of course.

can't catch this lovely one.
Solo i must run, par for the course old son,
when time has surely won,but chasing still is fun.
"Amour"

for Brian Strands
Contest Name	ANY 2,4,6 OR 8 LINE FORM
Form: Rhyme


Julie

Julie

By our PM Julie 
who is mesmerising truly
Kick starts Jumbo Jets untruly
Do I tug the old forelock

A boat person with agenda 
Tried to bend me old bombs fender
Nice as a dollar lender
Till payments due to dock

Attack me did he Houli
Me not foolie foolie 
Just kicked him in the goolies
What a blinking shock

With venom he spat
And launched another attack
So I sidestepped 
hit him just below the ear

to the ground he went flop  
sleeping well now he’d stopped
so I drove away 
and had a bloody beer.

Don Johnson 20-may-11
Form: Rhyme

Dogpaddling the Styx

Dogpaddling the Styx

Dogpaddling cross the Styx
To be with old Tom Mix
But Charon was there 
Demanding he be paid
So an uppercut a bit
 sorta laid back the twit
the deal was made
We reached the foreign shore

Side stepping  a Boar
Caught old Topper for a ride 
But Cassidy said nuts     (Hoppy)
Don’t ride my horse
So I had to give him back 
Twin pistols he did pack 
On another horse, Jack
I rode for sure

Wild cattle we were chasing 
Thundering and racing 
And sparks n fire came from 
Their flaming hooves

We galloped cross the valleys 
Up n down streets n alleys
Down footpaths terrifying
derilects a sucking booze

So back to Charons boat 
He said “whither go at” 
So we boarded for a free trip
Going home

Bit grumpy was old Charon
He sidestepped up the Narran
But changed his mind when 
I got the Christmas holdt            (Goolies grippe)

The nutcracker fair 
Got us flaming there
On shore into the timber
 we did bolt
an interesting trip
on the grog we did sip
stay away from hell 
the moral bit
I  know it

Don Johnson  …..16-may-11
Apologies to Hopalong Cassidy ?
old
Form: Ballad

Beware of Chucky Duck

Lake Eliza 2...
Out near dusty Lake Eliza
Lived sweety tart, where flies are
Sucked oddly Emu eggs some sunny days
Like a dozen egg appetiser     (1 egg = 1 dozen fowl egg)
She got em off the miser
Rotten eggs old Emu walked away   (in disgust)

Of course she had a rooster
Who had a name like Zac the Brewster
Who was always a riding the duck
So she shot him with a trap gun…(3/4” water pipe)
12 gauge lead did flatten one
Rooster on toast laughed ol Chuck

A Sand goanna lame 
wanted eggs just the same
So he crawled into the chook house for a feed    (fowl abode)
Duck Chuck saw him there
 spat n shat n tore his hair
rode the old Goanna yes indeed

So we leave ol Lake Eliza 
without being any wiser 
just beware of Ducky Chuck
and the ol tart that lingers 
and the rancid smelly dingus
just rotten emu eggs you’re out of luck   Don Johnson
old
Form: Ballad

Gotta Have Another Cigarette

Gotta have another cigarette.

Oh I worked in a cigarette factory
Foreman was a bit of a dillbury
Me old mate “a man of the cloth”
He’d persecute endlessly

Joe would load up his van
The foreman would make him reload
Joe didn’t worry cos he was a man
The foreman he was a cane toad

Foreman was trying to teach me to sweep
Would you think there was something to learn?
This is how the moron earned his keep?
But the thoughts of vengeance burned!
I’d been away for a week helping my dad with the muster
The cattle were all in the yard, I returned to work, yes a Bronco buster.
You’re sacked he said you’ll work one more week
I said you will work it for sure! 
started throwing  large cigarette cartons at him
saying tape em up fat boy , to annoy

He said I’m in charge, I said no you’re not
I’m in charge of you my fat boy
Manager came out I give him a blast
The man of the cloth laughed with joy

So they went to the bank and got my weeks wage
That I didn’t work there anyhow
Foreman looked like a siezure from rage 
So I blew him a kiss the old cow

Don Johnson
Form: Rhyme

The Man On Cape Flattery

Rum bottle nods with sanction
on gentle sway
The old dog spat snuff juice
that took wind
Puffins drift below the haze 
Cape Flattery
is no tale

Chocolate on a white man,
the solitary wile
brackish breeze
wanders along impressions,
dints in a sea chiseled face
Heads pressed vigorously
to confine what coat resembles
beneath salted rags
Today he lives as Makah

Fair-haired;
Stained by sun and sea
Brows fall low
to hush the truth
conveyed by green eyes
Sun at high noon
 jump back from the fluid sapphire
The sea, it whispers
never a lie 

Sea lions yap
Snuff juice took wind
Towards Tatoosh Island
rigid draft pushes stares
Aged salt grinned at old thoughts
A child hugs heavy thighs
and bawls
It is hard for him to witness
What these elements can do to a man
Rum
Sea, 
and sun
old

Not Dead

NOT DEAD

I lay upon me old brown bed
a fly did buzz around called Fred
The experts did claim that I was dead
But I did disagree

It happened in the month of may
They wouldn’t shut up, I couldn’t say
So prostrate there I did lay
Me spirit wasn’t free

She put me in an old brown box
Cut hair from my brown fore lock
Sold all my deeds and online stock
But I just wanted to pee…

So down the hole they dropped the box 
Bounced off the walls dislodged the rocks
The sermon boring, waffled lots
I’m clawing to be free….nope

Don Johnson 09
Form: Rhyme

Big Ol Billy

Big ol Billy

Near old Dirran, on the river, an old time pub had its day. ..
Billy Richards was the owner, had a rupture so they say. ..
There he sold the watered whisky and the rum to all who'd pay... 
Earned a quid and made a nest egg till the Murrays' came his way. ..
Sitting on his front verandah chanting 
calling laughing low, .."Big ol Billy, Big ol Billy," soon the rum began to flow. ..
So enlarged was Billy's rupture, so apparent his dismay, ..
every time the chanting started, fiery rum, he'd have to pay... 
In the early nineteen hundreds medicine was touch and go, ...
poisons nasty, drugs so deadly, all were used by the medico... 
Not the knife for Big ol Billy, fifty fifty die that way. ..
Better get another keg, stop the Murray's chanting, hey?  ... 

The Murray's were Aboriginal people living on the Murray river.near the south west
Queensland town of Dirranbandi.

Sponsor	Brian Strand
Contest Name	1-14 any theme /form max 14 LINES
Form: Rhyme

Heather

HEATHER
A young man caught the train, 
back in nineteen sixty four. 
He was headed down to Brisbane again, 
when this nice blonde sort he saw. 
She got on at Nindi Gully late , 
she seemed ooze romance. 
He said to a passenger, 'I`ll win her mate', 
the oldtimer said 'No chance!' 
So he sat with her and they talked a while, 
so attentive this young chap. 
The old timer covered up a smile, 
as the boy lay his head on her lap. 
She`d been in a pensive mood so far, 
then her mind on him was made. 
Heather asked him to her sleeper car, 
he joined her there and stayed . 
The old man`s mouth was open wide, 
when they`d gone at 3 o`clock. 
He`d won her hadn`t really tried, 
this young man stunned with shock. 
With the curtains drawn they settled down, 
in fine coal dust of this grimy train. 
The squeak and the rolling rattles did drown, 
their passion's sweet refraim. 
by D H Johnson

But then I lost her Phone number and was haunted by the song
 Trains n Boats n Planes, when next I saw her she was engaged :)
old
Form: Rhyme

Am I Me

Am I me

Finnegan Finnegan  Finnegan  Finnegan
Swings girls out and brings em in again
Round and round its time to spin again
Loves the ladies does poor dumb Finnegan

Left old Ireland new begin again 
Sailed on Minerva ,  sunken, drowned?
Born again chance to win and then
head kicked , caved in poor old clown…….me kicked by horse

never had a thought  alone
never worried , didn’t see
never learned,  dumb brain my own  
kept him down, till I got free

died in the awful  head on smash…(1975)
another soul invested me…..(Psychic said)
mind a working what a blast
smarter now is what I be…?

Sponsor	Paula Swanson
Contest Name	Being
old
Form: Rhyme

Tumble Weed

tumble weed tumble weed
im going to find the sea
this desert is no place for me 
im going home

i will tumble on 
until the nights turned black
well the odds are certainly 
stacked against me 

the ocean calls i finally will be
in a place to call my own 
a million endless miles
i will call them all my home

these million endless miles
i can't wait to roam
so i see them now they are so blue
the stars how bright they' shine

well this little tumble weed
oh how he did cry 
he needed out of that old desert
the close to him have died

so now he is smiling 
he is free 
he is blowing into the sea
how magnificent of a journey
this old tumble weed

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