I often sit and wonder
why ancient man survives
Lacking all the gadgets
modern man and woman have in their lives
Why me I am an example ,
all the things I have acquired
Gathered all around the world
from countries far and wide
Downstairs there is is a sauna
doing what the sun would surely do
The slant board replaces
lying upside down upon a hill and there's a wagga too
There's a mobile phone, there's a computer
so we can disconnect
Physical engagement with our fellow man
it's wrecked
I've got picks, I've got shovels. I've got forks
to build a garden bed
Ancient man and woman just wandered
when they wanted to be fed
So how to disentangle
from this crazy style
It's a complicated answer
you are going to have to wait for a while
Footnote; Wagga our nickname for a Zen Chi Massager
Are you listening out in Wood-wood' in Balranald do you hear in the Hunter and
Newcastle all round Maitland ix it clear?
From Jamestown, in Burra-Burra and from
Port Augusta too will they stand? speak
Out? Unite..Just do whats right, its time for such to do.' In Wonthaggi and Killarny
Ballarat and Bendigo, across to Geelong town
Get out be strong 'for that is what best' the Aussies do' in Geraldton and Bunbury past Perth and
Up to Broome, at Hobatt Emerald and Coolgardie be
No longer fooled.' In Forbes and Parkes and
Dubbo, in and Coleraine, Kiama too; Crookwell and
Coffs Harbour Australia calls to you.' If
You are asleep in Tumut, awaken' ask A man Johnny
Larter, our everyday Hero just whats on.' Then tell all your mates too.' in
Yass and also Wagga.' I'm sure they'll come along.'
And in coming then will realise, that mateship
Is key; is strong ' let your flags fly high till 'bye and
Bye' you are heard and your villans fall, once again all your women and man will be free, Now will you respond..To your nations call.'
WEST WIND 2
Be willingly wise with worthy ways as us Westerners
cos winter wind of woes wanders about
like a wandering Wolf windsurfing in wildlife.
Winter windup waves of weird wonder
wondrous enough to bring back Wayne Wonder
and wheeled at will the whole world with wows
which pose pridely like a waddy,
a wacko walking within waves of woes;
Whatsoever west wind wagged we wandered
as we become wanners, wearing wan expression,
warmly staring like a Wagga Wagga wading-bird.
Welcome was the words of windy west
as winsome breeze wapped my window and
wafted her sensuous witty wet perfume,
into my wide Afro-Western nostrils
waving wheats and weeds at will,
twas a whopping war wafture waxing souls warmly.
Why would wingless wild west wind worries
yet still, wags us with it's wondrous waves,
withdraws our eardrums with her windy drums
and whithered the plantation of peace
from the furrow of the fainthearted?
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Alliteration/Chandler Sonnet
Copyright© April 2021.
SHE’LL BE RIGHT
In the merry old land of Oz*
They’ve the secret of happiness ‘cos
They’ve a theorem for plight
Makes them soar like a kite
It’s this motto - SHE’LL BE RIGHT!
King Henry at Agincourt Field
Had a talent with words he would wield
Might still inspire fight
Make his army ignite
With this one liner - Mates SHE’LL BE RIGHT!
Were Churchill from Wagga Wagga **
He’d have written it as a blogger
Blood and tears day and night
Facing Germany’s might
With - ‘No worries! SHE’LL BE RIGHT!’
Should there be a border breach
With a fight on Bondi Beach
Though an awful sight
And we’ve barbi tonight. ***
Just remember - SHE’LL BE RIGHT!
Despite peril and confusion
Don’t crack brains with irresolution
Master clear, and then cite
This affirmative bright
The sure postulate - SHE’LL BE RIGHT!
* Oz = Australia
** pronounced Wogga Wogga
*** barbi = barbecue
From Melbourne to Sydney is a bloody long drive,
and my ambition’s to get there alive,
that means I must stop and then drift off to sleep,
or I could end up in a bloody great heap.
The Newell is so busy and the headlights ahead,
keep coming and searing into me head,
so at Wagga I pulled into a curb on a street …
my head went down and up came me feet.
Me eyes started closing; me thoughts became blank …
just as the last of my mulling had sank,
there’s a tap on the window. I opened me eyes,
it’s a bloke who is jogging … I realize.
“What time is it mate?” and I answered quite dirty
after checking me watch, “It’s seven thirty.”
Then he jogged away, and when nearly asleep,
there’s one more tap and another damn ‘creep.’
And this buggers the same “What time is it mate?”
Before saying, “Nick off!” I said “Quarter to eight,”
so when he trotted off, in the sand there’s a line,
I picked up some paper and I wrote a sign.
‘I don’t know what time it is’ … I wrote with a pen,
and stuck it on the window, but once again
there’s a tap on me window, and was I irate,
when this bugger grinned, “Its eight o’clock mate.”
Billie Boy was a lad from Down Under
Who with explosives rarely did blunder.
But he became diverted
By a blonde short-skirted.
Blam! Off to Wagga Wagga asunder.
Winter couplet
Winter time in sixty four I went way south, an Wagga saw,
Yes it was bloody cold, and I was surely young and poor,
While there in the army camp, the coldest showers ever had,
Hot water wasn’t there about , recruit Johnson label, sad,
I swore I’d never go back south, fingers numb six weeks way south,
And I never have returned to the cold, true to my word of mouth,
Queensland doesn’t see the sleet, or have the snow around your feet,
Just heat and nothing more than heat, here we have the bloody heat,
Springs almost gone, and sweat it flows, under a sheet sleep naked though,
Too hot for loving treats, but sweating lovers do I know, seen tween toe n toe,
So take your cold an hold it close, does not suit me till I’m comatose,
When they slip me in the icy draw, with strangers I suppose.
Sponsor john freeman
Contest Name Pictures of winter |
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