elm branches dance*
to the tempo of the wind's pace
elm branches dance
their leaves caught by its light trance
which has the daintiness of grace
swaying like a whisper's embrace
*elm branches dance

the vast bush skies are alight
with a panoply of stars
they captivate the viewer
stunning is their blaze

the self destruct button
is waiting for that fellow to push
he'll blow himself up like
a snooker ball off the cush

it won't be any surprise
to see him blasting himself away
this very explosion was fated
on a forthcoming day

the firing switch is set
for the big self strike
whereupon he'll be ******
into the air as a flying pike

soon the event will be
happening on television
let us not miss watching
his most important mission

score on score of them are laid
score on score of them have killed and maimed
score on score of them in jungles and in fields
score on score of them dot the Afghan lands
score on score of them have been detonated

the touching of a mechanism
with an unsuspecting foot
the tearing of flesh
the splintering of bone
the rivers of red blood

prosthesis fitted
to permit walking again
without an artificial foot
no steps
can be gained

score on score
the damage everlasting
injurious landmines
blasting

score on score
the toll of dead rises
landmine activity brings
many demises

somewhere on our planet
a man, woman of child
has had a limb
thoughtlessly torn away

they've taken over the shop
they're running central command
should you be acquiescing at their feet
to you they'll stretch out a friendly hand
those who aren't in the fold
the ones on the outer
shall never be given an entry
for only the top liners
shall obtain a front door key
it's plain
it's simple
it's a management decision
who will be in
either
the inclusion
or
exclusion
departments
of
the
store

her sweet lavender perfume
attracted his attention
he was drawn to the woman
who wore this bouquet

warped image
contorted of shape

blurred the focus
not quite correct

bingo good view
seeing better
what he's all about

not feeling crash hot
body contorted
trembles on and off
mind fuzzy in stages
called my local drug dealer
we're meeting
in twenty five minutes

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

I arrive at the old brickyards
my dealer turns up
seeing his face
makes me feel good
he proceeds to tell me
this fix is top grade stuff
money negotiations
already done over the phone
now in receipt of a cap and a half
my dealer gets lost
he checks for cops

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

I've scored my fix
in a shabby storehouse
at the old brickyards
laid out in preparation
are my tools for administering the drug
needle spoon  lighter  water
my belt the tourniquet
the fix is cooked
done in short time
no time to waste

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

I look along my punctured arm
to find a suitable place
luck!
I've found an unused vein
no problems
the needle goes in
I unload the contents of the syringe
in just a few minutes
the effect of the drug can be felt

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

my mind goes into introspection
other forms of thought
consumed and cocooned
different consciousness
plains reached
levels beyond
I almost feel close to God
or am I God myself
the images merge in my distorted mind
euphoric sublime
this lot of smack
has sure smacked me
journey well affords the expense

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

after several hours
reality hits and returns
not feeling so sedate
can I cope with what gets thrown at me
need to be in control of things
not drug in control of me
smack has got me
under her weighty thumb

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

already planning next break in
no better a gas station robbery
job like that means more cash
it'll buy heaps more smack
my habit is a demanding *****
nagging on me all the time
I've got to feed it
it
it
it
habit
got me ****
hoping the cops
don't get a trace or whiff of me

soon enough to get a fix
not soon enough for me

the trees
the trees
what ever happened
to the trees
once our scenery
had acres and acres
of trees
but over the years
we've purged
far too many trees

yet the trees are so vital
in the natural world's ecology
for their leaves perspiring assists
the rain cycle's hydrology

we've not replaced
the trees we've taken down
hence why we've now few of them
in our environment's crown

and our countryside
suffers prolonged dry spells
the trees were such
precious fillers of rives and wells

the trees
the trees
what ever happened
to the trees
once our scenery
had acres and acres
of trees
but over the years
we've purged
far too many trees

the Australian Labor Party
is in mourning to-day
the great left wing union
in the sky
called Gough away
he was a leviathan
of Australian politics
in the seventies
many social issues
he championed
on the parliament's floor
with Rex Connors and Dr Jim Cairns
his biggest bone of contention
was Sir John Kerr
he sunk Gough's money supply
with Malcolm Frazer
looking on from the side
to-day there is a dark pall
cast over the Labor Party
as it says farewell
to Gough
men and women
of
Australia
will
never
see
his
likes
again

he's hankering for the mountains
on a Carolina coastline
he's hankering is to be in the embrace
of the mountain's twine

the mountain's call is like a throng
it lasts in his thoughts all the day long
to the mountains he'll ever belong
upon him the draw is so strong

in the mountain his kin folk all reside
he can't wait to be again at their side
those mountains fill his soul with pride
the spirit of the place plies his heart's tide

a welling feeling washes over his mind
as he ponders the mountain's holding bind
the territory there has a familiar rind
that within his being shall never unwind

he's hankering for the mountains
on a Carolina coastline
he's hankering to be in the embrace
of the mountain's twine

nothing is exact
along life's path, routes vary
clench their challenges

some poets take copious hours
to perfect a poetic line
their pens ever ruminating
on what they'll opine

a piece polished with lustrous gleam
having the silken flow of a dale's stream
an insight into nature's beauty so rare
portrayed by the pensive mind of care

word craft the knowing
where to place that descriptive
figure of speech
a nuance articulating the sound
in the car brakes
sudden locking screech*

every part of the verse
well thought out
to present a verbiage
*of artistic sprout

where shall one begin with an unknown task
as there's not a manual of instruction
to follow in the exact construction
yet one cannot be phased by its ask
ad-libbing may get knitted on the bask
so why allow any type of obstruction
it'll mean one is certain for destruction
on-ward till there's a near finished cask
Milton supplied the writing assignment
hence one took a huge risk attempting it
his format came without apt document
the sonnet improvised every bit
a plan not seen anywhere to complement
the novice didst garner abundant wit

hey there pretty lady
I'm beguiled by your smile
do you think
that maybe
you could stay a while

I've a million things
I want to say to you
I've a whole lifetime
to spend loving you

hey there pretty lady
I'm beguiled by your smile
do think
that maybe
you could stay a while

I've been waiting for you
for so very long
I've finally found you
and my heart is full of song

hey there pretty lady
I'm beguiled by your smile
do you think
that maybe
you could stay a while

SBN.
Why do us poets
always let these jerks
who do not even
have an atom
of creativity
decide the value
and level
of our creativity?

ES.

Given that us
but meek poetic folk
have a humbleness
to our line of yolk
we permit these ignorant jerks
a liberal latitude
to openly express
their aimless platitudes

SBN.

Why do us poets
fall for the trends
and applause
it occasionally brings
knowing full well
it is all merely ephemeral
and what is permanent
is our depression so dismal?

ES.

We are cajoled
by the transient ovation
which resounds with much
brevity in its adulation
thence follows our
despondency of wretchedness
that descends into
a despairing grimness

SBN.

When will us poets
ever decide
that we do not care two hoots
for cheap popularity
and that our creations
are too valuable really
for some **** to **** on them
and make and mostly break them?

ES.

Oh for us true poets
to be admired with a fervent zeal
by those jerks who've
not a scrap of poetic appeal
unto us they can
dollop their excrement pile
for we shall surpass them
with our flash penning style

SBN.

So let us take in our hands
our own poetic destiny
lets write on time's shifting sand
and ensure our poetic integrity

The master copyist hath made an appearance
Without being given the proper clearance
He's just blown in at another poetry site
One bets he'll be at his usual caper
Plagiarizing poet's work on his paper
Twas noted that he'd come to have a look
For poems which he could put in his own nook
None can be credited as a true write
This chap is serial at knocking things off
No wonder we should of him verily scoff  
As bold as a brass **** he was stealing
Slipping under the radar's scope to ******  
He's made that locale his casual patch
Hope he hasn't purloined those poet's writing

oft the blade is unsheathed
and given its nasty lead
to jab the unprotected back

with no vision to the rear
and bleeding most severe
who could do such a deed

office hypocrites
are capable of it
so called friends
imbibe in it

to your face they'll play a charade
then with no scruples
they'll unsheathe the blade

The rain now falls o'er our rural township
Tis such a delight to hear of its drip
We've been in a dry spell for a long while
With the advent of a pour we'll rejoice
That will be done in our happiest voice
The pastures were lacking of a good drink
Farmlands fast looking like an arid sink
A brighter day came with its wetting smile
Soils bestowed in moisture so fetching
Which shall bring a green to the land's etching
Fat drops continue their most quenching spill
Our hamlet thankful to the skies gifting
With its favor we've had an uplifting
The countryside hath received a filling bill

sometimes one is most forgetful
especially when it comes to the kettle
the ear must be tuned well in
for if it is not one can
have a case of over boiling

yesterday I put the kettle on
and got distracted
by other goings on

whence I'd returned
from picking up the lawn clippings
I found the outside of the kettle
wet and dripping
there was not a drop
of water left inside of it
the dashed thing
had boiled dry
which made
me sigh

the kettle's whistle
I had not heard
for whilst I was outside
I'd been distracted
by the singing
of birds

the chappy from Moree
and his Narrabri sidekick
put their heads together
and came up with a dandy trick

it was effective in hunting
those common B Graders away
for they'd determined that only
exemplary talent would stay

the chappy and his sidekick
are a most fabulous cohort
they'll not freely associate
with any routine sort

into their hallowed space
you'll be rapidly ushered in
but it is a must to wear
their Mason's variety of grin

some have got aboard
the chappies and sidekick's train
they'll be projected into
the fastest possible lane

the lad's conditions of rule
are certain and absolute
to be atop the mountain with them
you need to be resolute

it is safe to say that the chappy
and his sidekick know their stock
they'll not permit ordinary people
to join their excellent flock

at all times they patrol the zone
with a vigorous stick
to not let the riff raff
gain any illustrious pick

twill make their day to see
the run of the mill shown out
so they've all the clout
that can be bandied about

age is catching up
with me that's for sure
as it takes me hours
to sweep the floor

ten years ago
I was nimble of foot
but of late my speediness
has gone caput

the old legs just
can't keep pace
and they wouldn't
be in the hunt
to win a sprint race

these days I have more
in common with a snail
inching very slowly
along the trail

zip and zeal
are no longer
in my vocabulary
sluggishness
is now the core word
in my dictionary

as the days pass
there is less vim and vitality
within me
and in the near future
my motor will become
completely stationary

wet weather events are becoming rare
few of them venture to our location
we seemingly get not a goodly share

there is little or no precipitation
copious clouds don't form in rain bands
few of them venture to our location

so depleted of dampness these lands
yet acreages in England are sopping
copious clouds don't form in rain bands

we'd like lots of drops to be dropping
there's none to bring a beaming smile
yet acreages in England are sopping

the downpour provider walks not our mile
we look to the skies for some irrigation
there's none to bring a beaming smile

the soil's profile is lacking of saturation
we look to the skies for some irrigation
wet weather events are becoming rare
we seemingly get not a goodly share

sad sad showers
since you went away
sad sad showers
falling everyday

the skies shaded
in a gloomy splay
the sun's happiness
no more on display

your leaving
cut deep into my soul
much deeper
than any cavernous hole

our love over
finished and done
our love at end
my world moribund

no solace can I find
for my aching heart
now that you've
torn it apart

sad sad shower
where are the sun's rays
sad sad showers
the showers parlay

the grass is always greener
on the other side of life
that's what they reckon
until they run into strife

on the other side there are
unwelcome hidden traps
which are never espied
until they land in their laps

it is better to do a thorough survey
before venturing to the other side
as what you'll encounter
may not be such a delicate ride

at first the other side
looks like a tempting opportunity
but let not it snare you
in its secreted fallibility

the sombre tones
of night
enter the heart and mind
their pervasive shadows
ne'er fade
they revisit
over and over
again
to be unburdened
of their tones
shall bring
a compassionate
easing