Best Goanna Poems
Last night I dreamed I was weeding my vegetable garden in the Drive-in theater, while people wandered back and forth from snack bar to their cars.
While pulling weeds, I saw a banana slug and was about to squish it when I realized it had legs. It was an eight foot monitor lizard! I chased it around the grounds and finally caught it and put it in the car. Then I went back to my garden to see if that huge tiger salamander was still there. It was!
I decided to go home with the monitor and the salamander when I realized, oh no, my little dog Daigoro was in the car! I got all frightened the monitor ate him, but he was perfectly all right. The rest of the dream was trying to drive home with Daigoro under one arm so the monitor wouldn't get him.
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
Of all the flamin’ rotten luck I said alighting from me van;
kicked the wheel holding the flat to upset our touring plan.
We’re miles away from anywhere as I rummage through our gear,
for underneath our chock full load the spare is hidden here.
Then horror of all horrors, I cursed and swore then spat,
I’d forgot to check the spare and that too is flamin’ flat,
So we’ve ‘gotta’ wait for someone (which isn't often on this road).
Two hours we boiled in the sun before its back to travelling mode.
Another problem surfaced then for as the sun did set;
having no idea where we were and not accommodated yet.
In our headlights there's a change of luck - ‘B & B’s’ a welcome sight.
Me and the missus drove in hoping there’s room here tonight.
The old farmer with his torchlight walked us down the back.
With the beam he pointed toward a dirty run down shack.
The doorway’s full of cobwebs; windows were broken too.
He chased out a big goanna saying "Now it should be fit for you".
"Where's the toilet?” Asked the missus - “I usually visit through the night."
"I never thought of that” he said. “I'll make sure that you’re right".
He came back with a bucket, and said, "If you want privacy,
you will have to take the bucket behind the pepper tree".
Next morning just on sunrise the farmer knocks and says
"Hope I didn't wake you up - would you like bacon and eggs?”
"Yes please" we said together. “Can we have some coffee too?”
"Do you both take milk?" The farmer asked. We both replied "Thank-you".
As we packed up across he came to pick up our dirty plates.
I told him that his breakfast was one that highly rates.
"Your coffee's great" the missus said "You and your wife should take a bow".
"Why thanks” the farmer said. “Now where’s the bucket - I've ‘gotta’ milk the
cow".
I wasn’t goanna write this but im compelled to do so, I felt you should hear it
This is what I do, and I love what I do, my passion to write and give hope
It’s like giving breathe to something dying
It’s my job to enlighten
Help bandage or fix wounds
Help Dust and clear-up dirty laundry
Introduce you to a world of forgiveness
Forgiveness to move on searching for a better you
Don’t be fearful to the words I use,
There isn’t nothing better than you start forgiving you
No apologies should be given for who you are
When GOD made you, you became special
Special to those who appreciate you
So those who don’t, it’s their fault to never knowing you
The characteristics of speaking is hearing
To possibly trust but sometimes love
Love is all in the heart but given to a selected carrier
So be weary when giving
In theory magnetism pulls the best attraction
It’s time for you to exert force to the right attraction
Our families are well respected
We are easily accepted
We have a drink or two
Even make our own home brew
We love to eat kangaroo
We are simple and original
We are the Australian Aboriginal
Our land is dry and never bland
We love this vast land
We love to hunt
On the hot sand
We hunt in the sea
It makes us feel wild and free
Under the hot sun
Where we love to have fun
We come near and far
All bare feet without a car
We love to always chase
The good old goanna
Always trying to keep up a pace
We are proud
We sing out loud
We love to do our aboriginal art
It comes straight from our heart
We love to tell our dreamtime story
All the colors and it’s glory
We love to sing and dance under the stars
Strumming on our deadly guitars
Feeling content in the moment
With our hearts desire
We sit around the campfire
Doing the dance of the Jabiru
Whilst listening to the didgeridoo
We want to better our future generation
We stand as one nation
We like to keep tradition
We always love our fishin
Our songs
Our people
The animals
Our culture
Our lanuguage
Step aside
Let us teach with respect
And our pride
Together we go hand in hand
We are a part of the great Australian Land
As time flews,
Worries exist for wasting the past.
No matter what happened last,
Its never goanna play a part vast.
Known mistakes committed,
If remembered, leaves heart punctured.
Mind keeps on compromises,
Spirit always confronts.
Smiles for no reasons, bent into
Inner cries in impending spring seasons.
Sorry if I made you cry hence
At least you could understand how I wailed once.
Learnt till extreme to block my tears
Since GOD accounts its every drops.
Thank u.. for your departure taught what World is!!!
And I became skilled of judging persons
I forgave whole heartedly
Please forget how I abandoned you too.
All most a year over spent time in yelling
It’s the point to turn an expeditious back. . .
No more scratched mind,
No more sensitive possessiveness.
No more affectionate tricks.
No more I Love the fake you. .
Time heals the shattered thoughts
Bringing bandages for uncut wounds,
Its my Life I need to take care,
Keep going with all obstacles there.
I remember no longer your voice, your smell,
Your touch. . No more and no more. .
I know you cant survive my Attitude – so
Make your way before your girl friend bid away.
~Hannah
Look okay; I have NO clue what to say,
To be honest your
Peanut to my butter
Moon to my ocean
Di** to my Con***
c*m to my v*g .
Yes I went there.
But I love you so much
You are always there for me. & I love your many accents
We can be on the phone for HOURS and have no dull moments.
We both enjoy the love for soccer & both enjoy the love of men.
We both know each other’s secrets (;
& we both get each other’s joke.
& I swear your goanna be saying
"I need the lord”
"Oh my goodness"
"This is too much"
Before the end of this month.
re: Johnsons Antidote by Banjo Paterson a great poem.....
Yes Good morning sir ...maybe it just worked for old goanna:)
We in the 1950's used condys crystal jammed into the snake bite after cutting and sucking the poison out of the bite area.
one poison to beat another they said...others shot a finger off or used an axe to get rid of the offending bite.
my old man had bull terrier x cattle dogs for bailing up wild Scrubber cattle and then he'd bring tame cattle to them and the wild ones would join the herd for safety...these dogs would go snake hunting in the night often, and some would get bit by the 9 foot long Mulga brown snakes they fought...what to do 30 miles from town no Vet either...so pinch up the obvious bulge of the bite and use sheep shears to cut the lump off the dogs hide? dogs survived this rough treatment if bit only once....but were sick for days after....Don
A phone call was all that’s needed and the message it was clear;
“Get your bum away from home and bring your family here.
And don’t forget your fishing rods; the bream are on the bite.
I know you’re off this weekend so be here tomorrow night”.
All we had to do was turn up so the weekend’s organized.
Us men will fish on Saturday while the women get familiarized.
Sunday’s to be at Lake Tyers; we’re fishing in the ‘Trident Arm’,
and everything had gone to plan - fish were biting like a charm -
- When there isn’t any toilets one must find a comfort tree.
And it’s much harder for a lady; Cheryl was first to see
the dangers of the bush when the call of nature’s needed.
But she found a way to hold on when her need was superseded.
For where our cars were parked many more had parked before
and fed the wild goannas, and so now they’re wild no more.
Then Cheryl ‘came the lucky one to discover in her need,
three hungry tame goannas met her in a gauntlet wanting feed.
When time was ready for departure, the rest of us got to see,
the goannas who were still about and waiting patiently.
But they didn’t care for sausages no matter how we tried to goad.
One preferred the rubbish bin; the others strolled off up the road.
On our way home with our catch, of snapper, flatties and some bream,
we stopped at Burnt Bridge where others fished, but their catches here were slim,
I waited in my car that was parked close to where undergrowth was dense,
and watched some movement in bauri; for a time it seemed no sense.
Then six foot of reptile slid with ease and hid underneath my car.
I looked downward out my window then its head stuck out so far.
This goanna waddled to the road and crossed the bridge without a care.
Cars had to wait on either side, and it bothered no one there.
I have a pup called Sheeba
And Muttley is her mate,
And when it comes to dinner time
My pups are never late.
They ate my Gargoyle Monster Set,
They ate my teddy-bear,
They ate my pet goanna,
They just didn't seem to care.
They ate my budgie Hercules,
They ate my mother's mat,
Now they waddle everywhere,
My pups are very fat.
-more poems like this can be found at:
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
On my first trip to the outback across the endless plains,
I saw a harsh and hungry land in pastel coloured stains.
There are more secrets out there, than sun and shifting sand -
It would take more than my lifetime to ever understand.
I saw Eagles, Wrens and Butcherbirds; Kangaroo and Emu,
blending with the Saltbush, in Mallee scrub and Heathland too.
Choughs flock along the roadside. Bearded Dragons soak up sun;
a King Brown sweeps with lightning speed; a Goanna on the run.
A sight to behold my thirsty eyes; a lake filled blue and wide,
big as any ocean I have seen. I could not see the other side,
Wildflowers bloom with coloured heads; purple, red and blue.
The Eremophila and Cassia display, a dull but greyish hue.
Black dots littered 'cross the surface in their thousands do amaze.
Ducks, Pelicans, Swans and Coots - further than the shimmering haze.
Long legged Stints with sticky beaks tread sand along the shore.
Swallows skimmed the water - what fish surfaced I'm not sure.
To stand alone amid this beauty, surely, too few of us will see.
Below the skies unending azure blue - vastness runs away from me.
I get the chance to have reflection now 'bout hardships in my hand,
but troubles in my life seem small when casting eyes across this land.
Once I left the sandy shoreline, this reflection stayed a while
etching past the endless Saltbush, which grows mile after mile.
And the dry and dusty plains return where water’s hard to find -
I yearn for comforts of my home - yet crave the views I left behind.
Tourist traps
Can a plonker should a plonker,
love a San-Goanna stonker,
not unless he’s bloody bonkers
coming is de crazy cats in white,
see crazy San-Goannas running,
sucking birds eggs, an out a hunting ,
Kookaburra eating snakes humming,
Ha, ha. ha, ha, sweet delight…
Mr tourist, watchem watchem,
Keep the eyeball sharp insight,
Funnel web, dodge and sidestep,
Death is coming with his bite
Watchem mr death by adder,
Step on him will fang ya badder,
Piddle from the bloody bladder,
Hysterectomy of fright,
Mr Death do say goodnight…
Don Johnson
no bities are getting ironed out by Aussies, some are protected like brown snakes, Brisbane still has Brown snakes and Kangaroos, though they are rare here...Funnell web spider is found in the Toowoomba mountain area and in Sydney suburbs sometimes....watch out for trapdoor web over an inch or bigger hole in ground....
Six cod and two turtles
And the Goanna
But he's my brother
So I would not hunt
Or kill him
You know that
A window is
Not a chimney
But in the hazy
Blue smoke of
What they call
Borderline depression
We refuse to pop
The pills prescribed
And climb out of the
Hole we dug
Only you can change
Your circumstance
By the power of
Your own will
Rust never sleeps
And I still can't lick my elbow
But the glimpses of truth
And reality are
More frequent now.
Smell of fresh horse dung on the breeze,
Not far away, just north of here,
Keep walking on the rocky ground ,
No panic, yet no fear,
Palm island Prison, I escaped,
Swam ashore, I nearly died,
Saw the fins of noahs arks, (sharks)
Dog paddling, still so tired,
Black tracker follows me,
I see him in my mind,
Jacky sticks like glue, does he,
My tracks are pretty hard to find,
The Traps they come, at walking pace,
Tracker picks the way,
Up or down the river ,
Might cost em half a day,
Eat a few mussel clams,
found under the waters edge,
just a creeping through the water,
doubled back under a ledge,
Traps they hurry away to the west ,
follow them, I might find,
And now I’m tracking Jacky ,
I think the buggers blind,
So the Traps get tired of looking,
My track just can’t be found,
So they return to the coast,
say they think I’m drowned,
So I walked inland four hundred miles,
Went home to live in the bush,
Lived off the land, Goanna and Sheep,
In the land of the wait awhile.
lovely Crayfish that I keep,
In my home land I do sleep,
me Boomerang goes woosh,
no need for me to bloody rush,
wild duck will have me fed.
Don Johnson
Dedicated to Bill Hopkins who did just that....know as hoppy...
Dog-human
When the human dog attacks ya,
The monkey brain goes slack,
A savage dog is at ya,
And instinct fills the cracks,
Reflex is in gear?
When a woman is being strangled,
She will claw at his face,
Thought’s of death entangled ,
Animal instinct interface!
Instinctive action, fear!
Animal bird protects her young,
As the Goanna goes for her eggs,
She dives and swoops to bring unstrung,
And pecks his back and legs,
Departing lizard, here?
Duality means, 2 owners appear,
Animal man, is only one,
The spirit sane, controls the brain,
Till passion interferes,
And slaughter has been done?
And conscience mourns de dumb,
Too bloody late my dear?
Spirit man is quite sincere,
But brain control aint won,
When the nasty dog, kills off a frog,
The voices worry, some,
Too late to interfere,
The animal dog has 1
Don Johnson