Penny Lane is dead
They all said
Took her out back
Gave the Aussie a shovel attack
Later shots were heard
Witnessed only by the nocturnal birds
Observing the murder go down
After bullets made the deadly sound
Companions who party
Should be a little more smarty
Since someone could drug the cupcakes
Served by the friendly fake
When she was baked
But true love
Watching from above
Saw the couple
Facing trouble
Working together
Fighting the hatred weather
Brought Penny Lane back
Who suffered a shovel attack
Now alive
Penny Lane grabbed the cycle wings ride
Big girls they did sing
Knowing one thing
They evened the score
Winning the war
Despite wearing facial gore
Penny Lane next time you meet
Enjoy the celebration sweets
With a true mate
A holiday worthy date
Especially when you both defend
Not needing any blokey men
Erudite at night verbose by day,
altho', I can't speak for others when I say,
"Shooting fish in a barrel of monkeys
(such primates rate a damn good spanking),
it seems to me, would not be fun at all,
there's no challenge, where's the reward?
It's enough to make an Australian crawl.
And, if Aussies ate nothing but eucalyptus,
as somnolent, lethargic koalas do,
would their breath also smell
as tho' they've been chewing cough drops too?
Do emu wonder why they have wings,
well, can they really have barrels of oil?
As, if it's to be sold or bought, how's it plumbed,
scooped off the top when they're brought to the boil?
And not to knock the fearless quokka,
cute tho' they may be,
the world's happiest animal
is not really smiling at you or even me.
What does the kookaburra have to laugh about
when they're feeling crook,
that Australia's wider than the moon?
Akubra hat's off, that's a fun one for the books.
Boo... meringues are fun, as is surfing thru' tubes,
but, me, I'd be a wombat, who actually do poo cubes!
My questions can make you look great,
Your questions can make us both look great.
My questions reduce your mistakes,
Your questions stop me from wasting my time.
The longer I live the more questions I have
And the more questions I have the longer I live.
My questions could alter your decisions,
Your decisions decide my outcomes.
Silly questions produce the best outcomes.
Children ask the best questions,
But not many adults can answer them.
Questions raised early,
Keep the number of jobs steady.
Miracles like People,
Come in all shapes and sizes.
Kindness encourages us to clean up our mess.
If you can't find kindness in your world,
it may be time for you to venture into my world.
If it is not used in industry,
It is probably not industrial quality.
To avoid being scammed,
We need more than one friend.
G'day you beauty Blue
as I haven't heard you play
in a year and a day
what did you do
with your fair dinkum didgeridoo
don't get me wrong
but it's been gone so long
has your bonzer boomerang
returned from whence you threw
by yonder backwater billabong
how about your most unusual pet
a marsupial (a roo) if I am correct
was it sold to pocket the proceeds
and pay for your daily needs
or abandoned beside the track
in the bush a.k.a., outback
Seen as a collection of spare parts
swimming in close formation
neither fish nor fowl
from a southern hemisphere nation
sewn together as if torn asunder
the amphibian antipodean
from way Down Under
is the odd-looking bottom-feeding
no muss nor fuss
otter-footed beaver-tailed
egg-laying duck-billed platypus
the males of which are venomous
an excellent swimmer
whenever it dives
it closes its ears nose and eyes
altho' a riparian carnivore
electroreception is how it survives
It's enough to make one chunder
there used to be a time Down Under
when fair dinkum the label on the tucker tin
only stated the true blue maker's name
and the Vegemite we'd eat for brekkie contained therein
while not a porky implied mate there's something to hide
with a shonky no responsibility disclaimer
I’m spewin’ cranky as today's focus is on what's not inside
no GMO cholesterol additives gluten calories caffeine nuts
no added colouring sugar preservatives
no artificial sweeteners monounsaturated
no polyunsaturated &/or trans fats
and bloody oath cobber that's not all as I recall
no worries tho' there's also low sodium
not whingeing but one wonders if it's a dodgy admission
there's no bonzer thingo within such as ace nutrition
meanwhile I'll fill my billycan from yon billabong
surrounded by a few emu and a roo or two
as up a gum tree the kookaburra laughingly looks on
there's nothing more I can do so may as well
bung another shrimp on the barbie blow the froth off a few
have one last blast on me didgeridoo Blue and shoot through
in my darkest mind,
cosmic scenes bind.
vivid dreams come true
in rhymes, stained blue.
in my place of wonder,
i’m dragged down under.
i mask life’s swift scurry
as I ask, why the hurry?
solemn ties of deceitful lies
compromise my needful cries.
blossom eyes of peaceful skies
disguise my sweet demise.
and in my brightest night,
stars align in all their light.
vivid dreams come true
in rhymes, stained blue
Swathed in shadows deep
she looked up
from her far below
of down under
seemingly afloat
hesitating at the bottom
of the long staircase.
Only a faint outline
of her oval face perceptible,
framing dark eyes
opened wide hugely round
pupils expanded
like an exaggeration
a caricature drawn...
The doorway to her soul
open wide
revealing a pathos
deeper than hell.
The koala's spiritual beliefs
Are difficult to assess.
He attends no mosque or synagogue
And never does confess.
He's not a cannibal and so
Communion is appalling,
And as for gospel singing,
It's just so much caterwauling.
I suppose he's an agnostic,
Yet he often stops and ponders
The reason for this universe
And all its many wonders.
And so we must be satisfied
With this insight that's been slipped us,
While he goes back to being cute
And munching eucalyptus.
can you please had me a cold one, mate?
we haven’t even had brekkie yet!
you are making my choices your bizzo?
hold your daks on.
I was joking, okay?
Kangaroos bounce lower
for tis the season
some roo laze on their backs
smoke electric cigarettes
Green moments
are discovered in Antarctica
Give your thanks America
give us your huddled elves
your heaving tinsel mountains
sprinkle all our glary nights
Wild-eyed are the rug-rats
they expect a baby-born
one bearing gifts from Toyland
alas alack the three wise guys
took a wrong left in the sand
and found themselves Outback
they waltz now around the billabongs
seeking the vapor trails of large marsupials
and they, the Aussie big boppers
the hoppers, are just chilling
unwilling to face more festive day's
nor shovel up or scoop
yet more reindeer poop
Oh, so bluest the sky doth shine
A hint of the new season’s ploy,
Sweet November a springtime shrine
Grains of golden sands of pure joy.
Towards December’s hottest sun
Where the dust is stirred to a tune,
And winter waifs become undone
When gone the drowsy days of June.
Wild Lilac flowers bend their heads
Touch rainbows of unwasted weeds,
Swell the colours of feathered beds
As rainfall shrinks forsaking reeds.
End of year is the beginning
As nature moves in lucid tones,
Dawn’s chorus keeps the world spinning
While Cockatoos perch on their thrones.
Entered November, December Poetry Contest
Sponsor Karen Krutsinger.
poem wrote 15/11/2022
Paris Down Under
I heard the thunder
all the kangaroos hid
children screamed in fear
the witch, her brew asunder
I calmed the innocent
peace is within my sphere
I danced with a Wolfe
Birds took a glance at philosophy
A druid mumbles
give peace a chance
I swallowed a lemon
said are crazy Sheilas in sanity?
Life full of questions
answers fly in the wind
just remember these wise words
ignore the ugly echo's
of skeletons in the wind
Ukrainian soldiers will fight
The Russians by day and by night
They don't need sleep
Because they keep
Chewing Australian Vegemite
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