BAT planted many seeds that brought him a great harvest
For which many held his ideology with august interest
With claims that Jagaban dealt with those political jagabats
Who knows little or nothing about keeping political stats
Since kingmakers hate to bow to their kings' orders
For which their branded deviants got their cold shoulders
BAT feels he should have a fair share of that opportunity
But like Eden's taste of apple, he soiled his official dignity
His celerity daily imposes punitive damages on his party
His ambition is heading towards punition and thus unhearty
BAT that should be adjectivised as the best or foremost kingmaker
Makes himself runs around like an unhearty shaker
What should be done by those hearty as bucks
Is vied by a kind that makes Aso Rock looks like a centre of bullocks
The swishing of the broom that has been sweeping
Echoes the voice of another that won't promote good thinking
Categories:
bullocks, political,
Form: Rhyme
Moon sleeps long wrapped in cozy quilt of chilly fogs,
Earth is engulfed in thick black carbon-canopy;
Trees ghosts-like; birds black-hole shaded; loud growl of dogs,
The scene is as silent as a dream fantasy...
Grow-caws cooled; cock-craws chocked; cattle clemently calm;
Buds of roses and sunflowers snore and sleep still;
Snails and worms shrunk betwixt fallen leaves and twigs, warm,
Cold seems handicapping even hearts of goodwill...
Bells feebly heard; the village church is very far;
As our bullocks are unwell, we may need to walk;
There's joy, when young and old - all together way-fare,
Merrily walk telling tales and season's talk...
Come, join us, share the happiness, Jesus is born!
Partake in Christmas joy, though we might walk till morn!
21 December 2021
Categories:
bullocks, christmas, night,
Form: Sonnet
Are the exploits slowly fading of the folk who forged this land?
Are there more important factors, today for us to understand?
Are we prepared to lose our national character?
Erase our borderlines, and forget about Australia,
where squatter and selector, fought fire, flood and drought …
the Shearer and the drover helping cut the wool clip out.
Self-reliance in this dry land; suspicious of authority,
physical and mental toughness, laconic humour tempered eagerly.
The exploits real and fabled, our robustness could quite relate,
so in our generation - old qualities are ours to celebrate,
for the musterer and stockman on a cattle or sheep run.
The swaggy and the bagman tramping 'neath the burning sun.
The diggers and the miners. with their quest for precious ore.
Bushrangers and the troopers who were the lawless and the law.
The footsteps of explorers and those who died in war.
Bullocks and the Walers; axe ring and crosscut saw.
'T'is for the struggle of our pioneers,
and who's souls we can’t restore,
that we must preserve the heritage,
of Australians who have lived before.
Categories:
bullocks, history,
Form: Ballad
I walk outside after an 8 hour shift
Having no idea, it is a seventy-four degree day.
I am wearing my wooly hat, that covers most of my face,
And my coat is buttoned up to my nose.
How had I missed this sunlit day?
I didn’t even hear anyone say,”Hey,
It’s really warm out there!” Bullocks.
I can counsel children outside, as well as in.
I actually prefer listening to them outside.
I feel really strange that I totally missed this.
I missed an entire sun-filled afternoon! I strip
Off my coat, scarf, and fluffy overfilled hat, and
Get into my car thinking how silly I looked wearing
A hat with ear flaps as I left my school building.
“You’re ready for tomorrow,” another teacher had yelled at me
Before I could loosen all the locks and whistles that hold the
Ear flaps and nose-**** in place.
“It’ll be 30 degrees tomorrow, and that’s the high!”
Welcome to Kansas and Missouri.
Categories:
bullocks, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
A Chowder Of Cats
There's a chowder of cats on the corner
an exultation of larks in the sky
a troop of monkeys high in the trees
where the rhino's doth daily crash by
A pack of dogs patrolling the lane-way
a herd of cows at rest in the byre
a bellow of bullfinches grasping hawthorn
A mischief of mice staying warm by the fire
A parliament of owls swoop over golden corn
where an army of caterpillars stay low
a flock of sheep look down from the hills high above
a congregation of alligators sleeping in a row
A pandemonium of parrots rudely laughing
an unkindness of ravens unamused
a drove of bullocks seriously unimpressed
a bloat of hippopotami singing twelve-bar blues
Categories:
bullocks, funny,
Form: Rhyme
I sleep awake wondering
my country’s invasion by wolves
I dream a dream of dreamers
to cross mystery sea-Mediterranean
“Opportunities, heaven for me
awaits across the sea”
I soliloquy in a grass hut
“I will at last drive a car, build house
I will at last get all hidden things
that civilization carries in its stomach
if only I can cross there”
quick were my steps and plans
But ghosts prepared their backs
the ship licked sea bottom
the dreamers saw the dream
becoming real dream- empty
Ghosts carried on their backs
all who dreamed most
to the land of broken bones
as the bull-toads of Africa
open their skulls and pour vodka
Sea ghosts of Mediterranean
carries away calves and bullocks
that would give exotic breeds
erode blades of plows
and build new pyramids
for womb-peeping Africans
Categories:
bullocks, africa, life, satire,
Form: Free verse
Esther's Kingdom
The field grazed by bullocks
Immense size and value....
Green field; marshes of love entwined with greatness of plenty
Dis candour sweetens the bowel
Feelings filled with Heavenly breeze -
Dis longs for a savoury meant for knights
Knights that stands worthy for
Dis empire grazes goodness
Dis empire grazes beauty.
Empire, Kingdom
Hills, mountains,
Kissing each other on the mountain high
Trepidation scourge me!
Mockery lies on my bank!
Yet, this Kingdom I shall live and build?
Aye, I'll.
This Kingdom be mine?
Aye, I'll stand for the rocks, for
What I be do without this Kingdom?
Not by words shall knights be known,
Deeds shall tell,
Esther's Kingdom.
Categories:
bullocks, baby, how i feel,
Form: Classicism
You could read me like any book,
Lost in a shelf, lost in the dark,
You still flip these pages with one look,
You know it all with one glance.
Bruised like the lilies in the fields,
Through where scared bullocks ran across,
My worth is weak and all but killed,
Not killed, and hence the hunter lurks.
You still catered and washed my robe,
Each time some blood was spilt on it.
My sweat and tear never went cold,
Before your love came visiting,
My lips; once purpled with your kiss,
And all my blood starts scurrying,
I get closer eternity,
And I feel heaven’s eyes on me.
For you I’d wait eternally,
Devoid of breath or pulse, I’d wait.
To me your love is everything,
Along with hope and firmer faith.
Like autumn rain, you soothe my self,
And as would that good gardener,
You saved the lily that was trod,
And made it bloom; a pretty flower.
You are; just great, and just mighty,
Holy and true, You are all good.
If I should say, ‘You are the best’,
I would have foolishly compared.
Categories:
bullocks, mystery,
Form: Rhyme
If you like big butts Hippopotamuses have big baabottomuses you may say, that’s just asinine A tall tale, you horse’s derriere but I can, so I’ll fanny the flames of posteriority **** thou off-ended take a seat you say Bullocks behind my back but I say buttocks subsequently Haul keister you bum
Categories:
bullocks, allegory, allusion, cheer up,
Form: Free verse
ah that Joe was with us on the drive,
when we galloped with the bullocks,
side by side,
and turned em up a dusty draw,
they milled around through dust we saw,
now winded they'd set right,
another sleepless night,
for sure....
re Joe Mavericks "Noonlight to Moonlight"
Don
Categories:
bullocks, adventure,
Form: Ballad
Ex Drover, me
As the cleaner sweeps the street,
And the saddle leather squeaks,
cos he's riding ol Darkie,
an his mind is with the herd.
He remembers the cold nights,
Leaps from his swag at daylight,
To stand by the fire ,
For some breakfast egg n bacon.
Yes bloody sah!
An the coffe black as char,
Sucked from his quartpot , jar.
And the toast is a burning ,
Like a bad cigar.
Is burning ,
And the sun comes up, aha.
So we’ll move them poley bullocks,
On the grassy stock route millet,
And the bore drain will water ,
Them poley bullocks shortly,
Till we get to Mungathar.
Don Johnson 8-aug-11
Categories:
bullocks, adventure,
Form: Ballad
How many times one of the real, steel with the words smooth criminal, getting ill,
feeling it, pick up the rhythm i give them exactly what they want to chill,
Why even lie to me just keep it real I tell them for real be wrong or be gone,
I'm a sing this song and Jesus giving me strength to keep the legs I stand on ,
but hey headed to unknown places facing the peace, We dwell in land of the beast,
lately been feeling the heat,
how many people get stopped the police, oh, I don't got no ID,
and now they want try me, but Christ he guides me,
so whatever come my way I fear never ever never,
leaves of Eden in my system, I'm humbly cleaver,
so tell the police that we driving without a license,
Is there anything left to deal with, the enemy plotting so any move I make I move as quiet
as mice
On the block dodging "bullocks" and bullets, but I eat up the cows like bison,
I'm shiesty, Don't provoke me I might bite, Cause i'm shiesty as Tyson,
go to alley shoot in the dice and, and make sure i do it once and not twice and,
this is the way that we do it, and we pray like Christ and,
keep on praising, keep on raising one love, Praise God
Categories:
bullocks, lifeme, me,
Form: I do not know?
Falling faller everlasting pain
Storm does grip the saddle sad reign
Underneath the Thunder strike
my own self is down around the old turnpike
The Heaven above is Crying Tears
Her emotion is strong..I have not felt her in Years
Early dusk with pavements Splash
It will leave me bereft of Cash
As my body tumbles further,a smile above me Grin
Just about to condemn me with a thousand sights in Sin
Mirrors of the sky-plastered glass
kicking the bullocks of my ever-advancing Ass
No one wants to pity me,everyday is a little less of Thee
I close my eyes as the Midnight Fade
Another Life would I gladly trade
just for an instant of joy
Before I fall thtrice like a child's old disgarded toy
Categories:
bullocks, deathme, old, me, old,
Form: Epitaph