Long Dinkum Poems
Long Dinkum Poems. Below are the most popular long Dinkum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dinkum poems by poem length and keyword.
My House - Life
My house- life is constructed
with bricks of dignity and self esteem.
Enthusiastic emotion has erected
columns of uprightness.
Perdurable passion has completed
pearly painting.
Fortune favours through
wide window.
Destiny forces foisting glass ceiling.
Phrenetic frustrations and pococurante stagnancy
to escape through back door.
Open terrace to savour
lustrous lavender love in liberation
and dinkum dreamy desires to desseminate.
01/26/23
Brian Strand No. 1175
Contest by Brian Strand
I love a sunburnt Aussie bloke, with great big, muscled arms,
His rugged well-built shoulders, and face with all its charms.
I love his thongs and singlet too, and stubby shorts you see,
His beer gut proudly hanging out, he is the one for me,
I love his Aussie greeting way “‘G’day mate” when we meet
His laugh so loud, make no mistake, you’ll know him in the street.
I love the Aussie Sheila too, she’s really trim and taught.
Long legs, tight skirt, big bust, great smile, a real good-looking sort.
I love her when she’s on the beach, bikini clad real brown,
Or when she meets her friends for lunch, all dressed up for the town.
I love her friendly way she says “G’day mate” when we meet
Her laugh so loud, make now mistake you’ll know her in the street.
I love an Aussie BBQ, with lamb chops, snags, and steak
And ‘Big Red’ sauce, a loaf of bread, some salads we do make.
I love the Aussie breakfast time with Vegemite on toast
Or Sunday lunch no better that an Aussie dinkum roast.
I love our wine and spirits too, but best is Aussie beer
It’s Fosters, Gold or Tooheys Blue, you won’t find soft drink here.
I love our sport, we watch a lot, of course we are the best,
We’re always fair, we understand, just better than the rest.
I love the Aussie rules we play, that’s football, not ping pong
And how the crowds call out real loud if the umpie gets it wrong.
I love the summer tennis too; it’s watched by young and old
Or a cricket match the Aussie way, dressed in the green and gold.
I love our patriotic style, the anthem that is sung
‘Advance Australia Fair’ I think, don’t know the words just hum.
I love our multi-cultural race, from lands quite near and far,
As a nation proud we do stand because that is who we are.
I love the freedom that we have, our wide brown land to roam
This place we call Australia; this place we call our home.
In Land of Oz a thousand feet below
was the morn on New Year’s Day,
and ‘neath a shining weightless wing
the steep sea cliffs of Botany Bay.
We taxied through old Sydney Town
with all wild expectation to come -
and when in Rome did as Romans do
and made way for the colosseum.
There it was, that grand noble edifice -
mortals did her sidewalks pound,
through those gates the arena roared
inside the Sydney Cricket Ground!
And later that balmy night wandered
after a cruel last ball Windies loss,
but ever closer drew those neon lights
in the noisy heart of King’s Cross.
Among the pushers, whores and vice
the city underbelly we did follow -
bordellos, dives, strip joints and bars
led Skeet ‘n Rich to take in a show.
At sunup the heights of Centrepoint
with its sky towering crow’s nest -
the sun and sands of Bondi to the east
and Blue Mountains in the west.
Behold Sydney Cove in Port Jackson
where soldiers and mariners sailed,
the tall ships that her garrison moored
carried convicts from Blighty jailed.
And upon pink granite cathedral walls
a new age do new virtues espouse -
its topaz curtain glass and white sails
shining on that grand Opera House
Next destination the Capital Territory
and a disappearing lake rivermouth,
over hinterland plains and gorges deep
and Snowy Mountains to the south.
Yon Canberra to the Queensland border
at the wheel of our V6 Commodore,
over “The Bridge” up the Pacific Highway
on seawatch north to Maroochydore.
To Byron Bay, Coolangatta, Surfers rode
the onya adventures of Skeet 'n Rich,
and after a thousand miles at our backs
it was a true blue hot son-of-a-bit*h!
And at journey's end up in Cotton Tree
on Aussie time we did celebrate -
struth, with a tinny and sambuca shots
we got fair dinkum pissed, mate!
Written: April 1996
Inside, rage sufficiently evolves and simmers
It sprawls systematically, abrading my dinkum mind,
The eager embers are zealously veeled by Satan
Until his fierce rage and evil seep into my veins
My mind and thinking are comatose
A fierce ache for blood has me quite oblivious
As yet, I'm on the verge of yielding to the blaze
By the dazzling haze, a radiant voice screams
Let promptly withdraw of umbrages
Afterward, you shall hoist the flaming mantle
My stern eyes are bared by the keen timbre
When I've excused, shout whip, and escape
Forgiveness arises the way to waiving the past
1st PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: March 21, 2022
A Brian Strand 1093 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
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
Every day in every country,
Our language is distorted, mutated on planet Earth.
Good words like “drolic” die,
Whilst “wanna ‘ave a go” is given a birth.
In Australia it’s clearly a Mad World with
Slang words destroying our grammar.
“Yeah naah, naah yeah”
Smash literature, smash it with a hammer.
We always modify and contort our words,
“Too right, this arvo, I’m rooted, go crack a fat”.
Aussies go getting’ it written in permanent,
“Good onya” a fair dinkum tat.
When u were left alone, alone to fight,
Fight for survival, u gave it a crack.
But the society of dictionaries, they stood,
Stood up straight, and then they turned their back.
So, traditional writing is dying,
Stuttering, falling, the writing’s on the wall.
See ya later elocution,
Ya didn’t shorten, that’s been ya downfall.
But alas, don’t freak, ur family name is safe,
Since some old words evolve and new are created.
Shakespeare invented and killed off heaps himself,
Arch villain, rant, drugged and assassinated.
Lyric: Mad world
Cliche: The writing on the wall
Image: Crowd of people turn their backs on a fight
Entered into "Lyrics cliché image" contest 5/14/2016, ranked First place
Everything’s going down thanks to the tangerine clown
His cohorts blood sports “muppets” the collective noun
This lout every town does rout either drought or drown
Farce as the grass burns turns brown is so easy to frown
Naked truth everyone knows about Emperor’s new gown
Half baked common sense forsaked with his faked crown
Bereft at not deft sheer heft of non stop theft by top tier
Tries to smear races from other places & anyone que*r
Walk the plank every rank does spank cranks up a gear
It is clear this is the dystopian nadir the world does fear
Does appear the end’s near just jeer at all we hold dear
Bunkum as do strum our spectrum with their plectrum
Sneer at us out of their rectum.. but still no referendum
Fair dinkum is a nostrum atop the rostrum our panacea
Little wins that dampens the din of the mandarins sins
Society spins beaming grins replace steaming chagrins
Ignore the scheming as that’s how the dreaming begins
So let’s save the teens and free them from their screens
Let them see it’s not all about these mean online ravines
Prevent their descent as everyone does vent their spleens
Vanquish their anguish as do languish in internet latrines
Mother Nature has the sheens her kaleidoscopic canteens
Hypnotic colours she preens bathed & swathed in greens
Quixotic pleasure of leisurely stroll which your soul cleans
By any means chill your beans is a skill which’s in our genes
Shun despotic rhetoric be an envoy for joy of other cuisines
Weans ourselves out of the trough with our poetic vaccines
Exotic almost erotic scenes all feel like real kings & queens
So when that obscene tangerine clown again goes to town
Nature will be our saviour so come on do yourself a favour
So much free flavour to savour if you look up and not down
I was in love with the most lovable sheila
but she did darn take off with me heeler
Overnight, she had packnd their bags
not just me dog, gone too with me scallywags
Left with just a simple note
she had found a more loving bloke
Heartbroken to have lost them all
I gave me mate Bluey a call
Together we drank more than just a slab
ending up so hammered, he had to call us a cab
As the lonely days passed and tears filled me eyes
by crikey it hit me, suddenly I came to realise
What a bloomin idiot, she deserved such love and respect
every night boozin with me mates, my true love I did neglect
I'm gunna cut out me drinkin and win her heart back
fair dinkum fella's, you can flamin bet on that!
I agree with the saying that silence is golden.
I opine of you calmly, to your love still beholden.
You're the light that shines vividly at night.
Your fragrant flowers sate my heart with delight.
You bear my stomach to do a little dance.
As the day ends, I will hold you in a trance.
You shine akin stars and adorn the night sky.
With you in quiet and the moon up high.
You shine vividly, as stars in the black sky.
You have aesthetic breath and sky-blue eyes.
You can bestow night and thunderbolt anytime.
It wraps me up and offers me dinkum intime.
You are my Eden, my vast seas, my lofty hills.
I cherish you best in the midst of pure stills.
Written: May 16, 2023
Can we see all the evidence.? Is justice in residence? Under our glorious sun what dark deeds have been done.? We knew it
By the ( moniker lucky?) Which comes from lucifer.' It never before struck me.'
Now its rolling round inside of me.? Ned
Was a man who got pushed too far, and
The empires tentacles, reached out with fan-fare'
From South Africa, an inspector came and
A mass of Vic troopers, cannibal black trackers, and the papers smeared his name, that was in 1889.! Its quite simple and plain.' 2026 now, Dezi you killed too ( no body cameras worn?) So we are
Told.' Hey you coppers is that real true? Is it
Dinkum? Or just stinkin.? Whats emmenating from your heap.? Are there any real ( lawful coppers.?) Active.
? Maybe
They have resigned, or perhaps they're
Paid to sleep.? Yet let me raise the issue;
Of a battler.' ( known as Biff ) who has
had
A past of law-less-ness.' Yet has turned
around , and willingly gives, out his feats,
just a man of
Benalla where i'd once go to watch the flicks
Turned ( journalist ) you-tuber..in Vic the
Bloke still lives? So he did a minor
tresspass.! at the place where that
(rat-sell.!) Went down, to inform the
general public, about any freaky
actions? And what have we found.? That he's being taken to court..And its rumoured he'll face
A judge he has known for years.? The same judge Dezi was taking to court.!
Yes looks like ( predjudice to my eyes )
And it tolls, also dirge-like in my ears..So
Thats the type of system, in Victoria at least, yet the states are all connected mates.' Its the nature of the beast.! A shame before the world so wide, just corruption and cover-ups on all sides
Cause Biffs legal team (
has left him folks!!) Just like that..As
with Tommy Cooper's
Catch-phrase..( which led onto many jokes.')
Yes that is the absurd reality, so I wish Biff all the best ( and a full public gallery')
May you-tubers, swarm into the joint'
And God in justice the verdict fully annoint.)