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Who says there wasn't an emu in the stable by Humphreys, Danielle
Nature's Single Dad - The Australian Emu 2 THE DAYS CONTINUE by JAMES, J Eliza
Nature's Single Dads - The Australian Emu by JAMES, J Eliza
Run Away Emu by Owens, Marty
The Emu by chamma, farah
Emu by Graham, Taylor

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The Best Emu Poems

 
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Sunrise Breaks on a Morning Camp

It’s been a long day beneath hot sun,
with sunset looming and daylight done,
came across water with a stand of trees,
deep in shadow with a zephyr breeze;
a perfect place to camp for the night, 
joined by galahs in the fading light,
with swag rolled out near a cooking fire,
heating up a damper and then retire.

Stars like crystal light the outback sky,
way out here they don’t seem so high,
Dingoes howl beyond a red sand dune, 
a mopoke hoots ‘neath a silver moon.
And through the night as I try to sleep,
the night feeders either call or creep,
could there be a pig or a kangaroo?
maybe a camel or an old emu.

Sunrise breaks on my morning camp,
The sky is lemon and leaves are damp.
I poke the ash and I grass the fire,
add kindling and the flames reach higher.
I hear the call of a warbling wren,
a butcherbird and a water hen.
There’s nothing better than bird song,
by a campfire near a billabong.

The billy boils for a cup of tea,
bacon and eggs sit upon my knee,
already the thermals are in the sky,
a wedge-tailed eagle is soaring high…
passing by with babbling words,
is a feeding  family of apostle birds,
all quite content to stop for a chat,
as long as I feed them bacon fat.

Sunrise has lifted on my morning camp,
the suns’ in the sky, now nothing damp, 
I roll my swag and I douse the fire,
with the campsite left as it was prior
for the budgerigar and the cockatoo,
or a flock of redrumps passing through.
I won’t see them for I’m on my way;
perhaps next year on another day.


Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2015

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Witchy Poo From Dunedoo

I'm Witchy Poo from Dunedoo,
I'm a flaming outback witch,
You won't see me rounding cattle up
Or digging in a ditch.

I like to cast spells,
Just like those city witches do,
I've cast so many spells outback,
Successful ones too.

Did you know that emus 
Always used to fly,
That is until that nasty bird,
Well....dropped one in my eye.
So I cast a spell
So he could only move along the ground,
No more zooming through the sky for him,
He's terra firma bound.

And as for those walking kangaroos,
Too many gathered near my shack,
So I cast a spell of hiccups,
Just to get them back.

But my most successful spell of all,
And there certainly is no doubt,
Was when I took the rain away
And created all this drought.

There's only one more thing to tell you,
And that's how I got my name,
The locals gave it to me,
Just after the emu took its aim.


authors note:  Dundedoo is a real country town some 400 km north west of Sydney{ NSW Australia} in the outback


Copyright © john williams | Year Posted 2015




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What's New at the Zoo

Paula parrot is my name. I once was wild, but now I'm tame
A chatterbox who likes to talk! 
Some news to share? Let's take a walk!
Now tell me what's the latest scoop? 
Oh! Watch your step! There's Dodo poop!

When I fly around the zoo, I'll likely make a friend or two
Some call it weird, or quite absurd, to chatter with the other birds
and sometimes share a joke or two, with Ollie Ostrich, and Adolf Emu

I can't deny, I wouldn't lie, I look the Cuckoos in the eye
We shoot the breeze, and share some pie 
and when I leave, with teary eyes, they flap their wings, and shout "Good Bye!"

I pass on by and say "G'day", to Hippity Hoppity Kangaroo
I greet Giraffe, we share a laugh,  a "How are you??" to Mr. Gnu!
I chat while the Chimps, do acrobats, and say "Ell...o" to Elephants...

Poor Tiger's throat is very sore.......he's caught a bug, and cannot roar!
I offer honey for his grrrrrrrr.....so he can growl, just as before!!

For Penguins shivering on the ice...I gave them boots, and sage advice
(They are rather bashful....but very nice!)
I'll take a swim, with dolphin friends, and saddle up, my pal the Whale
He wants to know some shocking news, and promises he'll never tell.

Zack the Zebra,  in black and white, pajamas worn, in fancy stripes
I tuck him in, a bed of straw, "Sleep well, my friend and "Nighty Night!"

It seems bizarre ....to talk to those, who live a life behind those loathesome bars...
I chat a lot, perhaps it's looney...but they have told me, "We are lonely"...

So, if you like to talk a lot....give strolling through the zoo a shot!!




______________
For Contest sponsored by Just the Archaic Poet  ..."Personalize an Animal"  12/31/13


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

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My Zoo From A to Z

Alligators, Aardvarks; Arctic fox and hare. Also Armadillos and Asses will be there!

Bobcats, Beavers, Boars; One Blue whale will do! Bovines and a Booby (maybe 2)!

Caribou & Camels; *Cavies & a *Coot; Cottontails, Chipmunks, Chinchillas looking cute.

Dingoes, Deer & *Dik-diks; Dolphins doing tricks!

Elephants, an *Emu; Egrets and a Ewe.

Flying squirrels & Frogs you will find; Ferrets & Flamingos, Felines, every kind.

Goats & Gophers, swift Gazelles & Gnus; Grizzlies & Gorillas; Gibbons to amuse.

Humpbacks;Hyenas,also Harbor seals; Hummingbirds need little; Hippos need huge meals! 

*Ibex  & an Ibis, and there’s some Iguanas

Jaguars & Jackals & wading birds, Jacanas.

Killer whale; a Kangaroo; Kingbirds and the Koala too.

Ligers, Lynxes, Leopards, Langers; Llamas, Lemmings, Loons & Lemurs.

Manatees & Manxes & some Muskrats; Mustangs, Moose, Macaws ; Mountain cats.

Nightingales & Newts; and a big Naked mole rat!

Otters & Opossums; the Ozark Big-eared bat; Ocelots and Orca too. imagine that!

Pumas, Panthers, Penguins, Polar Bears & *Pipits; Puffins, Peacocks, Pelicans & *Peewits. 

*Qhetzals, such bright birds to see; also a Queen snake, Queen rat & Queen bee.

Rhinos, Rams & Reindeer need a look! Racoons too, & have you seen the Rook?

Sable, Sloth & Skunks & Snowy owl, Snipes & Swifts & *Squabs are other fowl.

Tigers, Toucans, *Tapirs; and just now born. . . 

Utah prairie dogs, Uganda Kob and the only one around, the Unicorn!

Vultures, Vipers, Vixens, and more than that; a Vole & Vervet & the Vampire bat!

Walruses, a Weasel, & the silly *Wallaroo; Woodchucks, Wolverines, Warthog too.

*Xenopus & *Xerus; *Xenarthra & *Xantus. 

*Yaffles & a Yellow belly lizard; a Yeti (found naked in a blizzard).

*Zanzibar and Zebra & the *Zebu; Finally a *Zigzag and a *Zoo-zoo!

Definitions of the uncommon animal names in this poem: 
Cavies - Hoofed animals   Coots -diving birds                Dik-diks - type of Antelopes
Emu - like Ostrich             Ibex - wild goat                     Langurs -Long tailed Monkeys
Pipits - small songbirds     Peewits -shore birds               Qhetzals -jungle bird
Squabs -Birds                  Tapirs -S. American Swine      Wallaroo -large Water buffalo
Xenopus -Frog                 Xerus - Ground squirrel            Xenarthra -Anteaters
Xantus - Bird                   Yaffles - Green woodpeckers   Zanzibar -Gecko
Zebu - Ox                         Zigzag - Salamander                 Zoo-zoo -Wood pigeon


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

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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


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011

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Flightless Birds

Says the ostrich to the emu with sigh,

   "We have a pair of wings yet cannot fly!

      I guess its just our bad luck

         That we can't cruise like a duck.

            Why have these things?  I'll ever ponder why!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014

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Battle of Beersheba

With thanks to Alfred Lord Tennyson.


"Charge" they said, and charge they led
    from out of a dry desert wadi;
 every man of the Light Horse Brigade
    out of the falling sun thundered!
 Their pulsing veins - their loosened reins -
    toward the wells of Beersheba
    rode the brave eight hundred

 In gallop stride they fought and died
    on mighty Walers champing!
 Every man in the Light Horse Regiment
    faced a foe greater numbered.
 Their rifles cocked - their bayonets locked -
    onward the wells of Beersheba
    rode the brave eight hundred

 Again and again the Lighthorsemen
    the Turkish lines outflanked;
 every man of the Mounted Infantry
    of horse and rider wondered.
 In squadron raid - in great crusade -
    forward the wells of Beersheba
    rode the brave eight hundred

 And across the sands into their hands
    the Ottoman guns fell silent;
 every man in the Desert Mounted Corps
    the battle trenches plundered!
 With martial force - on valiant horse -
    toward the wells of Beersheba
    rode the brave eight hundred

 With God they strode, to victory rode,
    with emu plumes in their hats;
 every man of the Expeditionary Force
    sat his saddle or lay sundered!
 Like Gideon of old - their trusty fold -
    onward the wells of Beersheba
    rode the brave eight hundred

 On horizon's red light, an heroic sight,
    in clouds of smoke and dust;
 every man of the Light Horse Brigade
    across the desert thundered.
 The legend tells of Beersheba's wells -
    how the march on Jerusalem
    to glory led all eight hundred

          ---------------------

        

            November 2010



Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

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Flight - less -

Flight (less) 

Flight is a gift from God - The Bald Eagle spreads her wings 

The Emperor Penguin is a novel sight,
With an crown of gold around the scruff,
Heavily insulated and robbed of flight,
Icy swims, bitter cold, these conditions are rough,
The emperor survives, despite.

New Zea land's pet bird,
Don’t eat this kind of Kiwi,
They can’t fly and are not safe,
National Symbol,
This little guy likes the night,
Smells dinner from far away.

The Emu looks like its cousin,
The Ostrich and his kin are grounded.



Original Poem written by:
Samual Ronthorpe for the contest:
“four DIFFERENT BIRDS IN FOUR DIFFERENT forms”  ¤¤  4th Place ¤¤

The four forms are:

1) Monoku
2) Sicilian Quintain
3) Choka
4) Crystalline

Composed 4-27-2011 ©.


Copyright © Samual Ronthorpe | Year Posted 2011

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Run Away Emu

There were three men who chased an emu.
He apparently escaped from the zoo.
Came the fourth with a net.
The emu he did get.
Last I heard the emu would sue!



*True story for Linda-Marie's contest. (except for the suing part)  lol


Copyright © Marty Owens | Year Posted 2010

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HOME

 HOME. By Ted Bundy

There is a place not far from here where purple maggots are the size of deer, pink frogs are there wearing bowties  and hats, now put your hands together for the rolling skating rats. Green fluorescent tawny owls are snorkelling in the pool,while a wallaby in swimming trunks tries to play it cool. Its also the island where neon zebras are found,they plug into a capsule buried underground, the lions fish for skunks and illuminous crayfish dress up as monks.  Theres a barrel of laughing monkeys and some gigantic leathery snails, cockroaches modelling footie boots,even anorexic whales. 
Spiders in tracksuits riding pushbikes with ease, with a cross-dressing chipmunk flying high on trapeze. Bristly skinned donkeys snowboard on thin ice, and a 5 headed emu shoots craps and rolls dice. Glance over yonder at the transparent camels, their glass humps are crawling with mice, stare at the turtles dressed to the nines, and here comes a beard complete with head lice. Theres some inbred iguanas,and some lukewarm limey lugworms,  snorting clear cider through straws, gorillas dress as men and theres a psychotic hen, taping rusty razors to her claws. Over at the gym, theres  miss matched mastiffs, squashing each other underfoot, and an armadillo in a pin striped suit is trying to pick up a shot-putt. Hidden amongst the undergrowth you might be lucky enough to see, our south american weasel sloth sucking leather splinters from a tree, and theres no need to stare in awe if you see a tartan wild boar,trying to saw his assistant in half, his illusion tricks are a mystifying mix,  guillotine, two nuns and  a bloody  laugh. Up here on the right is our new Bull arena, the atmospheres heavy, ive never heard it meaner, in runs the first one already *****scared,beaten and blind, running in circles and ****ed out of his mind, the poisoned steely spikes creating pus filled blistered sores, the crowd ****ing love it killing Spanish matadors. A family of minks are enjoying the show, sipping their juice and gin, i especially admire their matching attire, its top of the range human skin. This is a change from the norm, a better way of life, a lot more colour,  and a lot less bleeding strife. Its a paradise for sure, and packed with fun and glee, where a hip hop alley cat, a sabre toothed fruit bat, and a clarinet playing koala, will serve you cake and tea. Yes, this is the place where pink Buffalo roam, Heaven on Earth for them, they call it Home.


Copyright © Ted Bundy | Year Posted 2012

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Maralinga

Maralinga, Maralinga, where the white mans fire still burns, Where atomic radiation made the little creatures squirm, Where walked old Nooran Gurra with the Emu fella dance, Where the bloody fire an brimstone didn't give em any chance, bloody radiation, awful fire of death still burns, An his bone are bleaching whiter, Has his spirit come to terms, Not bloody likely, So they give us Maralinga, So linger longer, yes we can, Does luekemia point the finger, If we live upon the land.? ?? Don yes by crikey, death and sand... Maralinga was just one of the 1950s, British, 12 atomic blast sites, before the radiation blew to the four corners of Australia giving us the sweet subtle strontium 90 in the cows milk off the radioactive grass that the cows did eat. And the geigher counter service guy couldn't stop the counter working franticly cos the radioactive rain was falling in Brisbane in 1955...


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2014

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Big, Big Bird

I saw a big bird today at a local zoo.
Its habitat is akin to that of a kangaroo.

It was glaring at all as if to say,
"Okay!  I saw all, now go away!"

Its digits can agonizingly kick,
As if hit by a ton of brick!

It is not a darling bird at all,
And I cannot stand its blaring call!

I know nothing of its ornithological stock.
I do know it's too big to fry in an Asian wok!

I was at a loss as I stood stroking jaw.
Was it an ostrich or a cassowary that I saw?

I can't think of anything worthy for that bird to say,
So I shall lay down ballpoint and call it a day!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)

First Place In Nikko Palmario's "Without U & ME" Contest' - July 2010
PS:   This was a contest where the use of the letters E, M & U was prohibited.
        The bird I spoke of was the EMU!


Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2010

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How The Sun Was Made

Before man, there was only twilight upon the earth. The earth was divided by two realms, realms, not kingdoms; one above the earth, the Sky, ruled by the birds. The other, the Land, upon the earth, ruled by the beasts.

In the sky, among the clouds, was a large pile of firewood. How it got there is unknown.
It is believed to be there as a resting place for birds not wanting to rest on land.

One twilight, an enormous eagle dove toward the land. His dive caused an emu on the land to panic, thinking it was being attacked, the emu jumped up and struck the eagle. 

The eagle and the emu began a heated argument, then began to fight. The emu, in anger, plucked an eagle feather. The eagle, in its rage, swooped over to the emu nest, grabbing one of her huge eggs in its beak, soared skyward.

As the eagle climbed, he swung his head throwing the egg higher into the sky. The emu
screeched in horror as the egg smashed against the firewood. The yoke breaking, sparked, igniting the firewood, lighting up both realms of the earth.

Suddenly, the earth was bright and beautiful. All were dazzled, but soon relaxed, as the
fire begin to warm. The leader of the Sky saw the light and the warmth it produced as good.

He saw as the fire burned, it produced more heat and comforted all. It also began to
decrease the light and got cooler as the firewood went out. This was a bad thing, he
called all the birds together to gather firewood to keep the fire burning.

As the fire became coals, the light again returned to twilight and darkness.
The birds worked for hours to replenish the firewood.

As they began to pile wood upon the coals, the fire reignited. As the fire got bigger,
there was more light, and warmth. 

When the birds had piled on all the wood gathered, the fire again began to decrease in
light and warmth.

Again each twilight, the birds would gather firewood for hours.

After an undetermined time, light and the darkness defined. As the earth warmed and became more beautiful, the realms became one.

The Spirit of the earth saw what the birds had done and what had become of the earth was good. He moved the fire outward from the earth and made it burn all the time.

He made the earth turn. Day and night were created. The birds and the beasts were one with the earth.

The spirit of the earth was pleased. He had created the heavens and the earth, reaching into the earth, he grabbed a handful of dirt in his hands, Smiling, saying all is good, He created Man.


Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010

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WHAT'S IN A NAME

WHAT’S IN A NAME

My Name? 
I'll set the record straight, right now for what it's worth
Wordancer was not the name my mother gave me at my birth.
My avatar can be Emu, Fairy, Frog, or a dinner suited Wagtail 
Like the one who tattles to the birds when a Cat is on their trail.
This Poetically Spirited Soup shows there’s a welcome at the door, 
I don't know you; you don't know me, I'll see you on the dance floor 

As I travel through this varied life other names I sometimes own,
Like, Eliza and Threadneedle, they're all part of me alone.
On the Southern Fleurieu Peninsula, on the South Australian coast
Near the town of Yankalilla, is the place that I haunt most,
And if you're ever down our way the door is left ajar
You'll be welcome whether travelling from close by or from afar.

Oh yes, I love to dance.

Wordancer


Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012

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Nature's Single Dad - The Australian Emu 2 THE DAYS CONTINUE

NATURE’S SINGLE DADS:
THE AUSTRALIAN EMU

The next sixteen months:

CRR-ACK ~ “That’s loud,” he exclaims getting up on his legs, so knobbly and thin.
He looks down to the ground, 
where he first heard the sound,     
and says, “Now it’s your turn to begin.”

Hours go by, as each little chick tries to break free of its protective cover.
They all work their way, 
throughout the long day, 
then all greet their father-come-mother.

For his new family he breaks the last shell. To his fluffy striped chicks, he’s their mother.
As they grow older under Dad’s shoulder 
he will nurture, each sister and brother.

In time, they will leave his home on the dance floor; a single dad, with chicks he will roam.
With high steps he will prance. 
They will learn every dance 
for survival, before he goes home.

With the changing seasons, Emund finds reasons to leave his young chicks on their own
Others join with his brood 
now there’s plenty of food,
Emund turns and again, he’s alone.

Not taking the chance of being late for the dance Emund picks up his speed on the track.
They won’t meet at his gate 
if he gets home too late 
to dance to the rhythms of the outback.

The Australian Emu; one of Natures' Single Dads worthy of a mention for the survival of the species in the extremes of the outback.





Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012

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Nature's Single Dads - The Australian Emu

Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days

Emund is busy
preparing his
dance-floor for
partners who’ll put
him to the test. 
His pedigree line
has proven with time

that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
call.
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay; 
there is not enough
food for them all. 

They dip and they
weave as they mingle
together knowing
that each has a
chance 
With his reputation,
there is no
hesitation; 
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
arrival, ‘It’s
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin. 
Others move to the
side as he leaves
them mid-stride 
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.

With sensuous,
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
in time. 
He matches her mood.
His movements are
smooth 
as they twist and
twirl in their
dancing mime.
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
ending. 
With steps that are
light he glides to
the right, 	
he meets her, bows
deeply, head
bending.
 	
Emulena says,
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
anew.
It matters not
whether we all stay
together,
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
do naturally 
to deliver these in
your own way.”

After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
more.
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
threes, 
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
green shell.
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect, 
so with care he
covers every one
well.

He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
some showers.
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure 
as he, turns each
egg every three
hours.
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
prowls near-by; 
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.

The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
batch. 
This egg will be
food for his hungry
brood; 
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
hatch.
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
morning.
He’ll sit day and
night until the
time’s right.
He knows, that time
comes without
warning.

to be continued...



Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012

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Australia as I knew it

Listen to poem:
                        By Robert (Bob) Moore (©2015)

The gun shearer has gone now, like many other things
the shearing sheds are empty, and wools no longer king
gone now like the drover, and the brumbie on the plains
but we still have the scorched brown earth, and droughts and soaking rains

The aussie language has almost gone , the things we used to say
fair dinkum sport, and ridgie didge, and hello was “G’day”
no  “its your shout” “snakes in your pocket” “he’s a bonza bloke”
“Bloody oath” and “Dinky Di” and “can’t you take a joke”

no footy shorts and tshirt, an Akubra hat was neat
now its baseball caps and hoodies, and Nikies on your feet
you don’t drive a Holden car, you drive a Nissan tank
the aussie way of life is gone, you can take that to the bank

once you could walk along the street, anytime without a care
bread and milk delivered to your door, the money you’d leave there
upon the step, with empty bottles, people just walked bye
no way that you could not do that now, and you wouldn’t even try

no bangers on the barbie, with a great big piece of steak
Hoges even calls a prawn a shrimp, the Americans to placate
used to say “a barbie out the back”, but now its “al fresco”
with emu, ostrich, and crocodile, and some you may not want to know

now everything is different, but did it all go wrong
can we say that it’s just progress, and we are where we belong
multicultural, many Nations, trying to live as one
no manufacturing anymore, all of that has gone

Is it still a Western Culture here,  an Anglo-celtic race
or has it changed, to something else, at a slow, unnoticed pace
there’s Catholics, Buddhists. Muslims, there’s Anglicans and Jews
in every tier of government, and controlling all the news.

So we only know what we are told, and pretend that we don’t see
what’s happening to this Country, ‘cause that’s just not PC
so soon the Lucky Country, may not be lucky anymore
and we’ll find the life which we once knew, has walked right out the door


Copyright © Bob Moore | Year Posted 2016

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Budgeri Jim

BUDGERY JIM
About the 1880s Joe came to the Hebel area...
He passed by an Aboriginal camp...
Saw one sick man a lying there..
Bad food gave him the cramp..
Poisoned Joe thought, so they purged him..
castor oil in, to make him well...
With a touch of Epsom salts, so grim...
But sickness grip still held its spell...

The Witch Doctor came to the rescue...
Said "too much white man's tucker you eat"...
Sucked the badness out from his navel....
Spat blood and froth, not so sweet...
Witch doctor had been spitting blood...
 a bite made in his own mouth...
He then spat out the bottle cap...
sauce bottles were lying about...
greedy fella too much tomato sauce...
spoke the Doctor with a sly grin...
you swallowed the bottle cap, like a horse...
cured you are now Budgery Jim....

Budgery rose and stepped, oh so lightly...
As only the Aussie native can....
Just like a young emu just might be ... 
No death song for Budgery man....
Don Johnson

Budgerigar ...good bird ...
Budgery fella  good fella...


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2013

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Witch Doctor & Budgery Jim

BUDGERY JIM
About the 1880s Joe came to the Hebel area...
He passed by an Aboriginal camp...
Saw one sick man a lying there..
Bad food gave him the cramp..
Poisoned Joe thought, so they purged him..
castor oil in, to make him well...
With a touch of Epsom salts, so grim...
But sickness grip still held its spell...

The Witch Doctor came to the rescue...
Said "too much white man's tucker you eat"...
Sucked the badness out from his navel....
Spat blood and froth, not so sweet...
Witch doctor had been spitting blood...
a bite made in his own mouth...
He then spat out the bottle cap...
sauce bottles were lying about...
greedy fella too much tomato sauce...
spoke the Doctor with a sly grin...
you swallowed the bottle cap, like a horse...
cured you are now Budgery Jim....

Budgery rose and stepped, oh so lightly...
As only the Aussie native can....
Just like a young emu just might be ...
No death song for Budgery man....
Don Johnson

Budgerigar ...good bird ...
Budgery fella good fella...


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2010

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AUSTRALIA'S BECKONING CALL

Can you hear the distant echo of the 
hauntingdidgeridoo,                                   
as it pulses through the airwaves?  Yes, my friend it’s calling you.          
To this land beneath the Southern Cross, it welcomes one and all, 
and its drone spells out a message.  Can you hear its beckoning call? 
                    
So come share our hospitality and shake an Aussie hand. 
Mate, enjoy a trip down under … share the culture of our land.      
It abounds with nat’ral beauty from its coasts to Uluru          
and you’ll share our nation’s freedom just like we have learnt to do. 
 
You’re invited friends to join us on a wond’rous holiday,                
where the sun, our surf and golden sands are yours in which to play.  
We’ve the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, The Reef and Kakadu         
and experience the magic of a Darwin sunset too. 
                
Can you hear the distant echo of the 
hauntingdidgeridoo,                                   
as it pulses through the airwaves?  Yes, my friend it’s calling you.          
To this land beneath the Southern Cross, it welcomes one and all, 
and its drone spells out a message.  Can you hear its beckoning call? 
 
Come and cuddle a Koala, feed our unique kangaroo, 
see our Emu and our wombat and our talking cockatoo.  
Boil a billy, bake a damper, share a campfire’s flick’ring light,  
in our vast Australian outback on a glorious star filled night. 
 
See the paintings and the craftwork of the aborigine 
and experience the stories of their dreamtime history. 
More than anything you do here or wherever you may roam 
we’d just like to say you’re welcome and please make yourself at home. 

Can you hear the distant echo of the haunting 
didgeridoo,                                   
as it pulses through the airwaves?  Yes, my friend it’s calling you.          
To this land we call Australia, it welcomes one and all, 
and its drone spells out a message.  Can you hear its beckoning call? 




Copyright © Merv Webster | Year Posted 2005

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Jabberwocky Redux

Jabberwocky Redux
 
                  After reading too much Aquinas
 
Would an aphid reside in an onager’s ear
if the onager’s master spoke Twi?
Or a Gascony scop with a leper elope
if a civet leapt out of a tree?
         You doubt it? Read Thomas and see.
 
Would an addax in Denmark gyrate
if an emu in Sweden bore freight?
Or an eland in Chile complain
if jerboas in Goa refrain?
         You doubt it? Read Thomas and see.
 
For really I thought ‘twas the onager taught
the aphid the tenor of Twi, and
that Gascony scops with Norwegians eloped
when Danes had lepers to tea.
         You doubt it? Read Thomas and see.
 

Donal Mahoney


Copyright © Donal Mahoney | Year Posted 2010

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hmmm a peck or not

Ah fish tails. Surely an apex of thought on a circular run. Home spun then. Bandy bringing braking balls. Throw then. Whirl then. Spun like a wobbly flan. Candyfloss hair in a breeze. Bending like an octave. Adjusting to the musical state of skies. Hair is dominant so why wear a wig. And just like a bird lean to peck. Peck peck peck. How remarkable then that all seeds are then without mould,bugs, and other vermin. Domesticated dog. Cleans the pots and bakes a cake. Seeded baps merely protrude when looking at a giraffe in leather trousers. But giraffes can morph so mind the beaks. Oh dear. It is undergrowth expressed. Good. It is akin to a mile long fishing experience. No flake. No flay. And a beating boom box 3 2 1 3 21 and now a 2.2 as well. All into the box to explode in a rhythmic rhyme which spans the time in a tidal pattern. Hahahaha and some wild cards of seeds. Hahahaha and a big bike carrying an emu. Hahahaha dusty automobiles laughing in a queue. Hahahaha aerostatics' CSX z


Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016

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donger

Just dehydrate a dead dingo's donger, till it isn't any longer, grind it down till he is feeling speyed, Porkupine is great, on the Aboriginal plate, a favourite meal, they might relate, op rum is stronger without battery acid is stronger, if ya get a splash, the right water bottle mate, Avrodisiac is stronger, out past Linger Longa, sprinkled on the Emu on ya plate, move a bull camel off camp, with just a touch of cramp, Old Croc will come by to draw me pay... Emu will not get flyblown if you hang it in the open air, most meat will blow, in Aus... cook it with corn meat ...tastes the same... Don Johnson


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011

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The Emu

Afar and beyond the ravines and glens
Two glares have stared to reach

I have jumped, sprung, and climbed
Fluttering only an illusion

I raced the fawns, squealed 
With the bats, and even swam with fish

I slithered among the grass, a krait
I supposed I’d be and even tried to hiss

I hung myself among the trees,
A feathery baboon I made

I buzzed and hummed in the breeze,
A million bees arranged

I endeavored and reiterated
To be and not become

I now bury my head in the sand
And laud the things I have done


"To acknowledge the problem is to be half way through the resolution."-M.R


Copyright © farah chamma | Year Posted 2008

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THE JACKLE

               
 The jackle being labled,a coniving sneaky hound
but needs are needs for it to it feed,wherever it is found
It feins it`s injury to lure it`s prey
so the pack can pounce and slay

the Emu she does take chase from her nest
scattering the jackle is a pretence test
The breeding rituals,wooing females of the pack
submissive bowing, fighting of attack

from rivals who do want her breed
take control,and take the feed
The lions finish with their kill, and handed down the ranks
vultures first to arrive, jackles scatter them like tanks.

Paul Beadnall.

.Sponsor Ryan Jackson 
Contest Name Animals on your mind... 






Copyright © Paul Beadnall | Year Posted 2011