Short Ruck Poems

The All Blacks played Australian Rules
Maori men against young fools
Butt a stroke of luck
In a muddy ruck
Quite promptly diminished their tools...

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His eyes get bloodshot!
Fight engorges his body!
He roars and defends!

Enter his red zone
To hurt or help... be dismayed!
His attack strengthens!

He pays back double!
He avenges his soul's sake!
He cools down in days....

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Where would the South Koreans be
  If the USA had left 'em high and dry by '73

And can you imagine West Germans' lives
  If America had cleared out by '75

But 20 years for the Afghans was just too long
  Who else think the Boomers got it wrong...

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AABBA

I just won a thousand with luck

I thought I would share with the ruck

But after the bills 

And a couple of thrills

I'm now in the hole, ten bucks



I think I got it right this time,

Thanks for the heads up Andrea
"Got to burn to learn"lol...

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Harb Holl, a hilarious puck
                               Grabbed some crazy crabs in the ruck
                                         He cracked under strain
                                          A grievous brain drain
                                     He fell off the back of a truck...

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I spied them through our fence. 
They sparred with knuckled fist, 
a father with unruly buck 
beside back door for violent ruck 
that stag was bound to win.

Young eyes that saw that vile display 
did not forget that horrid day,
and now know just how close 
that same scene could have been....

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Listen to poem:

Shadows are stiff
hard-edged, 
all telling,
not fibbing
nor forgiving.
The mind's eye is blind 
to the shadowy-side 
we carry in ruck-sacks behind
our backs.
Shadows are brutally honest,
dark and gloomy,
sketches of self in outline,
that we would rather lose
'cause they can't be
colored in....

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My poor beat up truck,
we've had quite a muck,
for when we got stuck,
you made such a ruck.

My poor beat up truck,
we went threw much,
getting hit sucked,
and had to pay such.

My poor beat up truck,
sitting all alone,
sitting there stuck,
looking like a bone.

my poor beat up truck,
cant go around,
stuck in the ground.
Now driving in a car,
just not far,
from getting My Poor Beat Up Truck....

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Felled in the form and gelled in indescribable,
It was a conundrum quite unfathomable,
Some chemicals reacted on its fibres,
A reaction took place in its innards,
and laughed at scared cowards,
who had shrunk and sprung back,
as if running with their ruck sacks,
the lava spewed from the volcano,
rammed in constantly dismembering form,
all that came in its way was torn,
some truths are like lava,
they simply sear through,
make culprits hurry and attention all drew....

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