Long Fines Poems
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A funny thing happened on the way to the market
I arrived in my Porsche, there was no where to park it
So I circled the village; and parked it in a side road
When I returned an hour later, my car was being towed!
I asked the traffic warden whatever was the matter
She said there’s no tax disc, boy that warden did natter
I said what planet are you on, you are so behind the times
Tax discs are not compulsory, and I’ve committed no crimes
She said I also saw you were parked on double yellow lines
And for those misdemeanours you’ll be getting huge fines
I said madam I have to totally disagree with you
There are no yellow lines, nor red white or blue
May I urgently suggest you arrange a sight test
and return my Porsche as I’m getting quite stressed
She admitted needing glasses , she had done so for years
And she then burst out crying - I had to mop up her tears
A phone call was made; my car was towed back to me
I drove the warden to Specsavers, then went home for my tea
A funny thing happened on ... Contest
Sponsored by Robert Haigh
6/25/18
Preface: There is entirely too much water being consumed. People should be satisfied with thirst and being dry. People should think about desert sand, romancing dunes and bleached bones in repose.
People become inflated with hydration
Leaving the faucet on, mouth wide open
Under the deluge of flowing water spouts
Every drop is counted against humanity
Wasted on the tongues of one another
Walking around like sacks of fat fluidity
Carbon units of wet are most insidious
Something is wrong when not forgotten
Hydration is the sin of water intake
Who forgot to turn it off? ?
The sum worth of oceans is in their taste
Is salt not dry? Is it the flavor of the day?
Parched deserts are void of water with no shame
Under the sun there is no shade to hide
Only heat and land flow open on tomorrow
Being porous is a crime
This condition is not a state of holiness
Leakage is a sin against humanity
People who drink will leak
Will sink in perpetuity to new depths
Oceans of debt will swallow them whole
They rise to levels with high tides to float
To their horizons saturated in their homes
Where will they go?
Fluid intake is a compromise to thirst
Weighs heavy on the bladder of the sinner
People who take leaks on lawns
Should be arrested and pay fines
Urination is not the nation I had in mind
It should be a crime
Such actions are not civilized
There is nothing wrong with being dry
From what I can surmise
The battle of wits who’s quickest to the target
The Referendum becomes our battling ground,
To silence the tongues that vanity took apart.
Saying little or nothing and have no command.
By force of nerves all generals pitted and plotted
Referendum vote drummed out the matted voices,
Tweets on either side of the house in cyber-chatted,
Europe left with misfits and the approving choices.
The referendum matter leads our nation into battle
Conquering minds gallop in haste to beat off time,
Waiting around for baited fines of further tittle-tattle,
Make allowance for doubting putting firms far behind.
Bows in the left hand; poison arrows fight in the right,
A momentum pursuing no safer place but heaven,
Parliament eyes have it, smart sorties smitten by night,
Watch the big nations squabble for refuge mitigation.
Then Europe and the people that’s in it can dream,
But every nightmare release the creepy dark shadows,
Frighten fools, using outdated tools for a referendum,
Keeping our identity to chase after the distant rainbows.
Could the appeasing bung taken worth smarter living?
Begin to outrun the distances of our silent conscience
Before looking back over on our humble beginning
With Protestants breathing the ambiance of silence.
When my boys were ten or so
on a fishing trip we did go
In my rough old ute through a city street
Roadworthy standards it probably did not meet
Suddenly behind us a flashing blue light
Bloody cops they always cause a fright
I pull over my two boys are on the floor
these cops approach the drivers door
Thoughts are forming how can I divert their attention
pretend I,m lost they pullout their street map direction
Once again we're on our way
My diversion's worked no traffic fines today
Next day before the sun has risen
catch some fish that is what we envision
Finally rays of sunlight filters through
The creek has dried up, no water is in view
It's rare I see my fifty year old boys today, I wish
Once again together we could go and fish
Footnote: I go back forty years . I wonder do they still make street directories
Every traffic laws read between the lines,
All test taken are never quite the same,
Read the instructions, and learn all the signs,
Follow the directions and learn the guidelines,
Being fully aware is part of the game,
Every traffic laws read between the lines,
Never consume alcohols or the wines,
Good rule to grasp lest you die or go lame,
Read the instructions, and learn all the signs,
If you break the law, you will pay the fines,
They will take your license, no one to blame,
Every traffic laws read between the lines,
Beware of beasts crossing like porcupines,
Your driving test jitters you overcame,
Read the instructions, and learn all the signs,
Signs bear symbols, shapes of different designs,
If you passed the test, you just sign your name,
Every traffic laws read between the lines,
Read the instructions, and learn all the signs,
2020 January 16
Yesterday was tears of my childhood
Today is a chapter of new manhood
What does it take to be a real man?
Does it fall in making a good plan?
I used to think pleasures and my wealth
Erased selfishness for I found myself
I take commitments I never dreamed
Braver than a thought that I should seem.
There are thousands of words that I could play
Well too reserved if it’s needless to say
I take words loud and clear
Face big problems with no fear.
I decide things for a million times
Making sure at end I’m getting no fines
Guess I already know what this life is
Being an adult commits role by all means.
Turbocharged you refuse to stop at the sentry
Full speed ahead on the racetrack of manipulation
Safety belt suspending the breaks in free flight
Airbag punctured long ago in rapid disconnect
I put up traffic lights for you at so many T-junctions
Set boundaries and barriers on both sides of the road
Built bridges and roundabouts and paid traffic fines
But violations kept coming and you crossed the red line
Some say you are too young to have a driving licence
And recite chaos theory for your very own highway to hell
De-rooted yield signs lie broken next to strewn promises
Sweet child now it is time to gather your scrap heap alone
I won’t be drawn into further collusion and enablement
Must wave the chequered flag of surrender of abused trust
You will crash on and on until you take consequent charge
I will not rescue you any longer but secure my own lane
30th January 2020
You can line up at the bank
Or you can line up at the mall
If you in a real big rush, you can line up in your autocar
Coffee lines and fast food lines
Even I, have some lines
If I may whisper them to you
Lines lines are everywhere,
Even at the local state fair
Line lines lines
Long lines, short lines
No one likes any lines
No one likes my funny lines
So what if they rhyme?
Unless you a burly Bureaucrat
Then all the lines are very good times
Especially when they all lined up
Paying unpaid taxes, along with hefty fines,
Fine fine those dam fines
One day I would like to say, we have had enough
I would draw a line in the sand
Sadly I have no worldly doubt
There’s even a line for that
There is a group, they don’t like lines
They sure know how to sing
Hold the line, Hold line
Love isn’t always on time!
Doctors, lawyers, dentists too!!
They all have lines tailored just for you
Hours, days, endless waiting
They love to have their lines
Don’t ever ask why the line
There will never be an answer
Even if they should make one up
There’s a line for even that
Now one day, your line shall end
As you lie at the funeral parlor
Funny how for this last task
There is no line for that
I am sure, there must be lines, way up and above
As well as Hell down below
Lines will never never never end
Just because you’re dead
Now if your one who hates me so
There’s even a line for that
Concert tickets will have less lines
Than getting a shot at me
So if one day, there shall be a soul
Who may wish to love me even so and so
I have good news, for this is true
That line is empty, except for dust
Waiting just for you
=====
Notes:
have to run
have to go
Check my soup site just to see
who is onLINE now to talk to me
( if you wish to read this twice, please get in line and start over )
The roads which I have travelled
and the turns I choose to make
were of my own making
my choices for to make
Perhaps at times they may not have been
the shrewdest or clear sighted
and oft times they brought consequences
somewhat uninvited
For errors I've made I've begged forgiveness
many many times
and in my way I've tried to pay
the penance of the fines
Lessons which I learned from life
often came too late
and mistakes I made are difficult
to clean from off the slate
There are those who never will forgive
a slip made in the past
and those who should be wary
the first stone for to cast
The good and bad decisions
which salt and pepper my trek
are mine to wear forever
as a millstone round my neck
Forgiveness for my flaws and falls
is all I ask of you
so that I may then forgive myself
for all the wrongs I rue
Breaking free from collusion
A watch tower stands tall a look out in the circular prisons
surrounded by wardens laying down prescriptions and rules
with us in the centre fragmented in dead ends and schisms
mirrored glass no one inside we internalise as obedient fools
At the gate high walls conscience barriers and road blocks
imagined barbed wire where we pay fines in constant delusion
monitored in constriction we fail to walk outside of that box
abide by dogma norms lack vision to approach our confusion
Afraid of cul de sacs dead ends stop signs for individual drive
we halt and abide arrested immobilised for society’s sake
accept torturous certainty admit to all guilt and as we shrive
cannot distinguish from needs what is causing us mind ache
Roundabout’s exits guarded by our very own straight jackets
we spin around like puppets on strings to our master’s delight
The ‘panopticon’ demands obedience and we cannot attack it
for lack of conviction rebellion introspection rigorous insight
Unless we break free from chains of what others demand
disregard our dreams our beauty default on individual virtue
the road ends at a four way stop where forever we stand
disunited abolished forgotten and constant imagined taboo
4th January 2017
Written for contest: At the end of the road