Best Land Up Poems
Now Christmas in July seems crazy - I’m sure I hear you say
That has got to be plain silly - but this is the Aussie way
Christmas is in December you insist it’s a well-known fact
But in this land way ‘Down Under’ our seasons are ‘out of whack’
July is Aussie winter while in December it's scorching hot
Those Three Wise Men may know the reason but then again maybe not!
A time for relaxing with family and friends spreading the good cheer
Sip a glass of Lilly Pilli wine or toast with a VB beer
Frosty Christmas in December - for some it seems so right
Tinsel and baubles festooned - Oh what a delightful sight
Presents around the Christmas tree decked with lights and holly
Cheery little Santa’s look so happy and so jolly
In December air-cons turned cold mimicking our winter in July
When Santa rode his sleigh down south to Oz coming from the land up high
With a Ho Ho Ho he now powers his jet ski - riding mighty waves
He coasts straight onto our golden sands joining parting people and raves
Remember my friends it is a time filled with Peace and Joy
To commemorate the Special Birth of a Baby Boy
Worry not friends we don’t miss out on all that wintry good cheer
For you see folks here in OZ - Christmas always comes twice a year
Author’s Note:
'Christmas in July', which is also known as Yulefest or Yuletide in Australia. July is generally the coldest month of winter, so celebrations emulate the atmosphere of the northern hemisphere winter. So that means hearty food like roasts, and warm drinks in front of fireplaces and bonfires. Don’t be alarmed folks! – Just for the record, here in Oz we have a second helping and do celebrate Christmas on 25th December with the rest of the world.
~‘out of whack’ - An Aussie term for ‘Out of Sync’~
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Synopsis from the composer of the song and clip -
"The Aussie Christmas Song" by Batesy. Published on Dec 18, 2012
‘One Christmas eve I was singing carols about dashing through the snow & a white Christmas and thought "Aussies don't have snow at Christmas" and it was also 30 degrees outside, so The Aussie Christmas Song was born, it's about sun, sand, backyard cricket, pavlova, and a cold beer - Ah!! - Sing along!!!’
A Psalmody of Psalm Ninety One
God is our refuge, He is our shelter
Kept safe from demons are those who’re blessed
Beneath wings of the Almighty that cares
Spared from the snares of unwanted foul quests.
Fear not nightmares or terrors of darkness
Under presence of angels we’re redeemed
Freed from toxic perils that come by day
All being as seen in heavenly dreams.
Our God sees everything below the sun
The wicked face trial before one’s eyes
What goes around comes back around it’s said
Evil ways will always be recognised.
Those who love as the Lord said we all should
Will never become trampled underfoot
By any human man, woman or beast
Daredevils who tried would land up as soot.
Our dear Lord saves those seeking salvation
Call God by His name and you will be found
The shepherd will always find his lost sheep
From that day on one shall be glory bound.
26th September 2021
Homage to Catalonia?
Policeman wielding batons or shedding a welled up tear,
Flag waving populace or staying home in fear,
State defence of self, or defending an historic lie,
Should we pay homage, or should we just weep and cry?
Turning out to vote, or disobedient serf,
Democratic abuser or defending right of birth,
Violent state repression or debating reasons why,
Should we pay homage, or should we just weep and cry?
Hurried lines drawn on maps or quite beyond the pale,
Land up for rental or permanently for sale,
Freedom of expression or state to look and pry,
Should we pay homage, or should we just weep and cry?
Part of bigger state, or standing on your own,
Wired in kit at home, or mobile telephone,
Going with a third, or vote not home and dry,
Should we pay homage, or should we just weep and cry?
©Keith Murphy
Pasta comes in lots of colours, in many shapes and sizes,
Each one does a different job, in several different guises.
The smaller the pasta used in a soup the lighter it will be,
It’s used to fill your tum, when you eat it you’ll agree.
Pasta sheets make lasagne, both vegetable and meat,
Quickly bringing families to the table to eat.
Spaghetti is a favourite too, of that you will agree,
It’s used in Bolognaise, one of my favourites for tea.
Macaroni is a favourite household American dish
Mac and Cheese recipes people think are delish.
Pasta can be filled with yummy food to eat,
Mushroom, cheese or vegetable parcels really are a treat.
Flour, eggs and water makes a perfect pasta,
Beetroot puree makes it red and squid ink turns it blacker,
Orange is made by adding lots of tomato puree
If you want it green, spinach makes it groovy!
If you make pasta at home roll it very thin
Fun to make, it hopefully won’t land up in the bin!
Whether long or short, tubes, shapes or frills
We all agree that pasta has all the skills
To make us eat our meals much faster
So come on mum, bring on the pasta!
Comfort Me Oh Black Shamballa
For all the 'ninth nights' I can't attend
Let me moan, caress you, cry and mend
Friends, colleagues gone that way
Funerals converge same same day
Too many murders too many cancers
Hearts give out and brains can't answer
Comfort me oh black shamballa
'Llow me to fidget while I twist 'n holla
Sweet flight Calm seas Men of honour
We'll meet again in fair land up yonder.
Enea is Pope! (1)
It doesn’t look good.
There is restiveness around the ‘hood.
Naples is in turmoil, a bastard claiming the throne –
but is he even a bastard? And isn’t he owned
by the French? Cardinal d’Estouteville
is treating the Tiara as a done deal.
Has he really as good as won?
Then the Papacy’s off (again) to Avignon.
At the gates
of the Papal States
is a general with an army.
He’s irrupting through,
and proceeding to
slice the land up, like salami.
Piccinino knows
this is how it goes:
there’s no spine to the Holy See, see?
Let him take terrain
on the Umbrian plain –
but must we lose Assisi?
Worse incursions are happening than these.
Hordes of Persians and Medes and Pharsees
(the irrepressible Turk)
are making short work
of humanity’s treasury – Europe.
They’re going to sack Italy soon.
The Muslims took Athens in June.
(When you need it, where’s NATO?)
For the city of Plato,
the game is decidedly up.
When some prince claims a “national church”,
for his motive it’s not hard to search:
they’re stashing the cash for themselves
that once weighed-down the Vatican shelves,
thereby leaving the pope in the lurch.
North Europe views Rome with disdain,
and for reasons not pure, but profane.
Their domestic corruption
brooks no interruption –
they just hate being Ultramontane.
Think Big, dream big, see big and restrain from keeping your mouth big, you might land up in trouble
Simple pleasures
We, although a small family of three,
keep longing for simple pleasures of life,
Now miss our usual adventurous spree
and land up losing to daily no good strife.
Just having a serene walk in the garden
or be it watching a good movie together,
Being naughty and then ask for a pardon
and win subtle caress of a mellow weather.
Written Jan 21st, 2016
Sponsor- Kim Merryman
A strange thing just happened, I woke up dead
Was winging my way to the promised land up ahead
Angels were singing
To my jammies, was clinging
Then the alarm went off and I jumped out of bed
May be It could be a lot more simple.
It was Then and It is Now.
Then, I find happiness in every little things.
Chasing dreams was once the way of reminding myself
That “I am living a Life”.
With every stroke of serendipity,
I land up where I am bound to be loved, cared and secured.
It was Then that
I keep on keeping on and try on trying on.
Consistency was key strength.
And so I never die within.
Now, A little confident left within;
Dream once a dream,
No longer a chase.
Things I want to tell the world are buried deep within.
Like a wall flower,
I am nowhere to be appreciated.
I enjoy my aloofness
Coz society is what I am scare of.
Trapped in within a fetters of societal talk and norms.
Now, I find no happiness.
If there is any,
A life of hermit is what I prefer.
By Dawne Zacharias
When the early pioneers landed in 1620
They were weary,
They came to worship the Lord in
The way the scriptures taught.
A Sign hoisted on board the ship said,
"They committed themselves to the Will of God
And resolved to proceed."
Cape Cod sighted on November 19, 1620.
A wooded land up to the edge of plenty.
The Mayflower Compact;
Laid the foundations of the first
civil body politic in America,
The covenant was given and taken;
It Laid the foundations of the
American republic.
No Monarchy or Dictatorship,
but upon, the consent of the governed.
On the Plymouth Rock monument it reads;
"They laid the foundation
of a state wherein every man
through countless ages
should have liberty."
BROTHERS IN MADNESS
We have been here since time begun, special we were
Thought to be decedents of the sun
We were and are
Brothers in Madness
The Madness, when settles for you it may lift
To us, we endure this despairing gift
It’s been likened to tripping, on Coke or LSD
But our trip will never end, and it will only bring sadness
A lifelong trip, my brothers in madness
It crosses all races, no one is immune
It sweeps through families often bringing death & gloom
At first it is good, the images you see
The voices are happy, all things can be
Nothing is real, or at least you think so
When you sleep, you will wake, but with me I don’t know
They tell me to do things, bringing sorrow and badness
United we suffer
My brothers in madness
The drugs we are given, others made these choices
They block the dopamine and slow down the voices
But then the shaking begins, and my feet start to move
I’m not a rapper, im in the Chlorprom groove
Another set of drugs to take this away
But dry mouth & blurred vision is the price I will pay
We sit there together, all of us shaking, dreaming of peace
And a new awakening
But the life we often live, is a circle of sadness
Don’t pity, try to understand
My brothers in madness
I know I am more, than the voices in my head
I deserve a real life, not one spent in a hospital bed
I deserve to happy with a smile on my heart
I deserve to make my own choices
Just like you, I deserve that start
Most of us, at some point, will come to that spot
A decision to make, to carry on or not
The voices I live with, the drugs I endure
I’ve got to do it, to keep my mind sure
One of us decided, it was his time to leave
To start over fresh, in that land up above
No voices, No drugs,
Just acceptance and love
No blame at his leaving, no pity, but there is sadness
Our friend has left us
Our brother in madness
Phil Evans
The shadows are pleading
That come from the sky
The sun is not shining
The clouds start to cry
The ocean is growling
Something's amiss
When the wind started blowing
It's powerful kiss
I'm in the drink
Surrounded by fear
Shouting for GOD
Hoping he'll hear
Backed in a corner
A jam,now I'm spun
If he does'nt hear me
I'll start calling his son
Then on the horizon
It started to pear
Land up ahead
And a voice I could hear
I heard you the first time
And the the second one
Even when you started....callin my son
The very next time you get in a jam
I'll always be hear....you know who I am
Alice Run!
Down Down, the rabbit hole!
A secrete place
Escape away
Monsters and Goblins
Just tales of old
Vamps and Witches
Only exist in the real world
In that land, up above
In man, without love
In a strange land, a
Truth-twisted, God-resisted land
Man's evil addiction
Quick now Alice,
Back to fiction
Alice, no!
A girl on tv
She's a mother to be
Do they hate her
Because they fear
She not their normalsy
Beasts with nothing to do
So its all up to you
To voice and say
She's not a freak, she's not ugly
Oh Alice, what will we do?
Evil is real
Not pretend, not fiction
It is that of man
With no Godly conviction
Oh Alice, take me with you
Down Down, the rabbit hole
Lets leave behind
The obsene real-world
I hear the victims cry
And the headstones say
Come a lil closer
We're still hungry
But Alice is sane
As sane as a mad-hatter
She'll stand the test of time
Alice can see up rabbit hole
And perhaps in time
In this land of rhyme
She'll see no reason to go
Freedom of thought
By Michelle Morris
22/04/2023
When people land up in mental institutions
When they land up in rehab for addiction
When they land up in prison
When they land up trapped by life
They are all trying to navigate their path
However troublesome and challenging it is
However rocky and treacherous it seems
However debilitating it can often feel
People have to make their own choices
Whether fighting the system or working it
No one who truly engages in living
Can leave this existence unscathed
Every person has a reason
For the meandering of their journey
Every person deserves to shine
To find happiness in their purpose
Whatever our circumstances
We always have the power of choice
For even in a locked fortress
Every person has the freedom of thought
© Michelle Morris, 2023