There's a secret men's club,
Of men at the pub,
We are men, we drink beer,
Loud laughter over here,
Slap shoulders, cheers,
We are men, we drink beer,
Bring the barmaid over here,
Let's drink beer, cheers,
Loud laughs and leers,
"I'll give you one, my dear!"
Men laugh, say, "Hear, Hear!"
Chicks walk by smiling,
What are babes thinking?
"Underwhelming,
Have a look at them,
They're no excuse for men!"
Men laugh and don't care,
More beers over here,
There's a secret men's club,
All the men down at the pub.

Bad news,
For all of you,
It's 2016 in Australia,
Multicultural success or failure?
A new culture of racism,
Paranoia driving a schism,
In our lucky country we stand
For equality, a concept grand,
Today, let's have no discrimination,
A day of Peace, across our nation,
Yes, it's 2016  in Australia,
Multicultural success or failure?

When might was not right,
An inferno of genocide,
For all those in the Holocaust,
A tribute to everyone lost,
Widespread slaughter, the cost,
The massacre of the Holocaust,
Catastrophe of mass extinction,
People lost in extermination,
All the survivor baggage,
Of such destructive carnage,
The world had to see the light,
Finally, when might was not right.

Our silly state of paranoia,
Are leaders here to annoy ya?
Ghosts of government past,
We've had enough drivel to last!
Our systems need to improve,
Building bias, not a good groove.
Kids are born colour-blind,
They teach oldies their great minds,
We're ashamed of our politicians,
Any excuse today? Like superstition,
Then there's youth unemployment,
Disaffected youth for deployment,
Mendicants at charity, welfare dependents.
Our silly state of paranoia,
Are politicians sent to annoy ya!

Take nothing for granted, little kids,
It was library day for our kids,
Lateral epic lit. for the kids,
(The kids' librarian was off her ****),
Reading new wave kids' lit.,
Such as "Paddington was ******",
Then there was a new book for tots,
Titled "RIP Spot",
And an epic for libraries to fill,
Called, "Bye, Bye, Blinky Bill."....

Now it's story time for tots,
Here's our new one, "RIP Spot',
(Lift the *****, there's the chaps),
RIP Spot, the street dog,
We dehydrated Spot,
(Life the *****, there's the chaps),
Froth, Spot, Froth,
Yes, read along, tots,

Read along, little tots,
We all starved Spot,
He was a street dog,
(Lift the *****, there's good chaps),
Rot, Spot, Rot,
Now we can count his ribs, dear little kids,
(Lift the *****, there's the chaps),
Happy maggots, Spot,
Spot is mort, poor Spot,
He was a street dog,
(Lift the *****, there's the chaps),
Mort, Spot, Mort,
Now Spot's on his way to Heaven,
His ribs were more than seven,
(Lift the *****, there's the chaps),
Have some flies, Spot,
Rot, Spot, rot,
They opened up the Pearly Gates,
Poor Spot wasn't too late,
(Lift the *****, there's the chaps),
Look at Spot's halo,
There's two more books to go,
Spot has sent us a card down here,
"F.U., Society, you didn't care,"
(Lift the *****, there's the chaps),
Rot, Spot, Rot,
You were a street dog,

Ooh, are you all sad?
Two more books in this bag,
Here's "Paddington was ******",
(The kids' librarian is off her ****),
We'll all read along  now, kids,
Paddington was ******,
The tots were, by now, totally miffed,
He was their childhood hero,
Now a drunken old dero,
Rolling around in the gutter,
An alcoholic ******,
Society didn't care,
He was only a homeless bear,
Now the tots are totally miffed,
Paddington was ******....

Now, here's our last epic book,
This one's worth a look,
"Bye, Bye, Blinky Bill,
His mother forgot the pill,
Perched on a tree up the hill,
Blinky Bill ran under a bus,
****** on Eucalyptus,
His mother forgot the pill,
So, Bye, Bye, Blinky Bill.

We took nothing for granted, let's say,
Kids' librarian got the sack that day!

How to get a good night's sleep--
Instead of enumerating endless sheep,
Reclining beautifully with Aristotle,
Don't decline, hit the bottle,
What does rhyme with Aristotle?
I ponder parades of passing Axolotls,
Maybe Australia's golden wattles,
Driving by, foot on throttle.
Yes, they all rhyme with Aristotle,
Maybe I shouldn't drink that bottle,
Musing thoughts philosophical,
Aristotle waxing lyrical and logical,
I'll curl up with this learned book,
"What is beautiful?" at Aristotle I'll look,
Far different from enumerating sheep,
Drifting into a good night's sleep.

At my antique womanly age,
I have reached beyond cynicism stage,
I am quite blasé about hyperbole,
Hearsay evidence about chicks like me,
You're wasting your time, unfortunately,
Old bags like me are basically resilient, you see,
I've had 700 billion lovers, it seems,
Plus or minus 10%, is that how you deem?
Contemplation on such matters makes me giggly!
Yes, quite blasé about hyperbole,
You're wasting your time, quite definitely!!!

My mother, Sylvia Plath,
These days, I might laugh,
Electric oven, you know,
I was too young to know,
One way to go--
It was an electric stove!
I was too young to know,
I used to live in dread,
I learnt what blackmail meant,
She got cremated, you know,
I was too young to know,
These days, I might laugh,
My mother, Sylvia Plath.

This is verse  like a letter,
Do your best,
and your best shall get better,
Do your best,
You'll pass the test,
Do your best,
We're all different to the rest,
Do your best,
Each of us unique, yes!
Do your best,
Your best gets better,
My verse is like a letter,
Do your best!

(To the tune of "Like a ******'.)
Not a ******,
Queen of the molls,
Not a ******,
So I've been told,
Not a ******,
I'm like, well, old,
Not a ******,
Please stop your moans,
Not a ******,
That's why men are alone,
Not  a ******,
I'm like, well, old,
Not a ******,
So I 've been told,
Not a ******,
You sound like a ***,
Get over it!!!!!

I heard a joke along the way,
Honk if you love Jesus this way,
Text if you want to meet Him today!
Made me smile, slow down,
No need to rush and frown,
Let's pace ourselves this way,
Slow down on the roads, okay?
Honk if you love Jesus this way,
Text if you want to meet him today!
Let's have a Peace and Happiness Day!

It's all smoke, fog and haze,
Vague thoughts of distant days,
Better to always look forward, say,
"Make the most of this day!"

MELANCHOLY

Spring of silence--
No bees,
No ants,
No birds,
No trees,
Silent indeed,
Spring for thee,
Melancholy,
Eden paved evermore,
What we see no more--
Bees no more,
Ants no more,
Birds no more,
Trees no more,
Air no more,
People no more,
Rat race stalled,
Paradise no more,
What was it all for?

On hieroglyphics and holograms,
Ancient runes in endless sands,
We're journeying in a timeless span,
Travellers in a great Southern land,
A distance past, times long gone,
Through the future we'll wander on,
To the world there is a helping hand,
We all come from migrants in our land,
A multicultural heritage, that's grand,
As Mum used to say, "Are you Irish or mad?"
A river of time floating by,
We're journeying in an endless sky,
Travellers in a timeless span,
Soon, hieroglyphics and holograms.

This is a verse of new thoughts,
I've invented indoor sports,
Written in a poem of riddles,
Like, "What is Time for Tiddles?"
Why, it's wine with Mahjong,
Those tiles don't tarry long,
Then it's "Drinks for Scrabble,"
With bevvies we'll all dabble,
Or, "Come and try my beers,"
Many varieties over here,
New indoor sports, my dears!

I heard a song,
Tried to drive and sing along,
"Detachable *****" was its name,
Some women really feel the same,
With this song they do relate,
What to do to erstwhile mates,
Much better, when it is too late,
To close that chapter, great!
"No hard feelings," hell yeah,
Detachable ***** over there!

My Muse had a strange concept,
Aussies could spread Test cricket,
Global peace from this precept,
Middle East with a new diversion,
Test Cricket's mesmerising stupefaction,
No shots daily, narcotic absorption,
"Resume hostilities at the end of the next over..."
They'll say, "New bowler's called Grover.
We'll see if he bowls a maiden over."
Large LED screens on constant display,
Test Cricket, Ashes every day,
Hours sitting in the hot sun, that's the way,
That's why there's Peace in Australia,
Without Test Cricket, Peace is a failure!
Yes, Aussies could preach Test Cricket,
My muse and its weird concepts!

What are our millennium fables?
Women keep giving each other labels,
No harmony for our ecology,
An alliance should be our synergy,
No accountability for the economy,
No wise leaders to steer us to unity,
Century's getting older, folks!
Any teamwork to cast off these yokes?
Symbiosis should aim at harmony,
Let's pray for millennium synergy!

How to be a Happy Camper, dears,
Wake up smiling, we woke up, cheers!
Positive approach to daily life here,
Whatever happens, don't stress, dears,
Looking forward to a peaceful day,
No dumb arguments for a blessed way,
Say never mind, blip happens, dears,
Smile and walk away, no tears,
It ain't Armageddon yet, dears,
At least we woke up here,
How to be a Happy Camper, cheers!

To whom are we responding,
All bad news for responding.
Someone's editing all this stuff,
Media and worldwide web, that's tough,
Let's examine the motivation,
Feeding us their manipulation,
Read and listen in bewilderment,
Assess the agenda in amazement,
You want us to believe that stuff?
Motivation and manipulation, guess that's tough!

Are you lonely after a divorce?
Not as lonely as you were before,
Are you ever going to 'do it' again, mate?
Yes, if you get really desperate,
Shall you ever remarry, missing it?
Yes, if you are a total *******!!!
Post trauma, post divorce,
Disenfranchised, just like before!

I only open my mouth, it seems,
To offend, by changing feet,
Born with foot in mouth disease,
Don't take any notice, please.

Here comes Santa Claus,
Here comes Santa Claus,
He's coming here  in bad girls' lane!
Santa's on the moll again!
Over there in bad girls' lane,
Too much gimme from Santa,  he's a pain,
Can you hear Santa Claus complain?
NO! On Boxing Day, Santa's off to bad girls' lane,
"Oh no!" Say the **'s, "Santa's coming again,
Here comes Santa Claus,
Here comes Santa Claus,
He's coming again in bad girls' lane!

This is a lateral Christmas, my dears,
The reasons for red-nosed reindeer,
Rudolph was on the *****, my dears,
Santa and Rudolph loved Christmas beers,
You could see it in their faces, dears,
Rudy and Santa were dipsomaniacs,
They drank all the ***** in Santa's sacks,
But worse, Santa's in a stroke unit, we fear,
We knew it was a bit hard,
For gifts, Santa maxed out his credit cards,
Red cheeks meant high blood pressure, we fear,
There's worse, Mrs. Santa was a real *****,
She drank all the eggnog with Rudolph and Blitzen,
The drunken elves kept all your gifts for their party,
They drank all your Christmas bevvies, party hearty!
There's worse, Christmas fairies live in fear,
They did ask Santa one year,
"What to do with the trees, Santa dear?"
"Wait and see!!" roared Santa, O dear,
There's a fairy with a tree up her blip here,
Now, Santa's in the Stroke Unit this year,
Folk at the North Pole, too much Christmas cheer,
So, there's no Christmas on Earth, my dears,
This is the lateral Christmas year...........

We're golden oldies, you see,
This is a concern for thee and me,
When your friends look so desperately,
Found the car but lost the keys!
Welcome to senility!

The challenge of climate change,
Our atmosphere grows more deranged,
Weather patterns even more strange,
How can we protect our climates,
From multinational eco tyrants?
Big business still defiant,
How can we change our climate?
In defence of **** Sapiens, primates,
We need more than panaceas,
To save our atmosphere,
Heed and listen to constructive ideas,
To change our climate here!

Is that a flying pelican?
Or is it a pterodactyl, I can
see a flying pelican,
It's like Pleistocene history,
Not evolving? That's a mystery,
Look, a flying pelican,
Its beak holds more than its bellycan!

Imagine the zoo after dark,
As if there's a swinging primate park,
Yes, after visiting hours are gone,
It's primate party time, so long,
Imagine all our furry cousins,
Having a primate party love-in,
Imagine a party in primate park,
No humans in the zoo, after dark!

Don't worry, be stupid,
So sang some bright chappy,
I feed you lot of gits,
Don't worry, be stupid!

Here in poets' glory, we bask....
Not long ago, a bard did ask,
"When did poetry become ethnography?"
Verse is part of human anthropology,
Even part of Christianity,
Millions of people read the psalms,
Millions of folk read their Koran,
As part of their faith of Islam,
Poetry is a sweet and sour dish,
You can interpret as you wish,
Each verse is a snapshot of society,
Part of our cultural anthropology,
So, "When did poetry become ethnography?"
This muse has set us a task,
Good question to ask, good question to ask,
As here, in poets' glory, we bask.....

What's your addiction?
Computer or television?
We're in a Gestalt on Google,
Like well trained poodles,
The land of Google glasses,
Is it a blessing to last us?
Is this the Prince of Air,
I read in the Bible somewhere?
Dimly switching on Google glasses,
Edited agenda, the mouse passes,
All like web trained poodles,
We're in a Gestalt on Google.

In our land of golden wattle,
I'll unstopper a bottle,
Uncork a magic genie,
Appearing cute and teeny,
She looks quite delicious,
Granting us three wishes
For Oz, quite ambitious,
What'll we wish for today?
In this magical genie way,
First, let's wish for full employment,
Then, an end for our youth deployment
In the Middle East, futile beast,
Last, we'll all wish for global peace,
Our wishes the genie does release,
I shall unstopper this magic bottle,
For our land of golden wattle!

But she was so pretty in pink,
Does it mean she's ready to ****?
Don't such stereotypes stink?
Maybe she's not so pretty in pink......

(Sing along to tune of 'Strangers in the Night!"
TUMMIES IN THE NIGHT...
Tummies in the night, is this a romance,
Tummies in the night, what does enhance,
All our fat sharing love, would the air be blue?
Fatness in our thighs, was so enticing,
Fat double chins, were so exciting,
Fat around your  guts, told me I must love you,
     Tummies in the night,
Teletubbies ,we looked such a fright,
Two naked tubbies, we  were  tummies in the night,
up to the moment, when we ate our first jello,
Did our fatness grow,
Fat was just a dance away, a fat embracing lard away,
and ever since that night, we've been fat together,
Tummies at first sight, in fat forever,
It turned out so fat, for tummies in the night!!!!

Why am I chasing an ice cream van?
I asked, as after the van I ran....
Is this futility? I held out my hand-
Shall I ever be chased by this man?
Why does anyone chase an ice cream van?
No one is pursued by the ice cream man,
Running after a van in this heat is dippy,
Why sell our souls for Mr. Whippy?
With the crowds I did compete,
I bought soft serves, to survive the heat,
As that callous van drove down the street,
But, with ice cream, my soul is replete!

This is western society,
How much is distorted realism?
Talk in sinister sexism,
Casually call criticism,
Typecast fashion femmes,
What about men?
High heels or no,
They'll call you a **!
You can't blame women,
For control mechanisms!
Emotional blackmail,
A world run by males,
We should empower the young,
For their lives in the sun,
When was misogyny begun?
Any real chance of equality,
in our western society?

I know this sounds like a soliloquy,
But why did bulldust men find me?
God made Ratlotto sardonically,
Life's ***** prizes always find me,
Now 70  years old is  the new young,
O God of funster fun,
Is it them or me?
Yes indeed, my soliloquy,
Is it them or doormat me?
Whinging is fun for us,
No one's listening to this fuss,
Dear God of Ratlotto ***** prizes,
Any more masculine surprises?

Write a scary poem about Halloween?
Weirdest ode you've ever seen!!!
What is seen at Halloween?
Bloodsucking Salem zombies,
TV addict Abercrombies,
Spiders and maggots in their hair,
Crypts in the garbage tip over there,
Witches floating round my room
Fit right in here as they zoooooom............
Yes, my other car's a broom!!!!!!

No, my mother atheist said,
Long live cricket, God is dead,
Debbie Downer's Nihilist thoughts,
Total negativity she taught,
This is Debbie Downer's doormat daughter,
Saturday sportsmen off to slaughter,
Yes, God is dead,
Long live extreme sports,
That's what Negative Norma said.

Gotta love fishermen, I guess,
They all belong to Anglers' Anonymous,
Dodging Waterways Rangers,
Are the fish ever in danger?
After the football, they go fishing,
For big catches they are all wishing,
We listen to all those fish tales,
The ones  that never got to the scales,
The whoppers that got away, yah!
I barrack for the fish these days,
Gotta love fishermen, I guess,
They belong to Anglers' Anonymous!!

From where do our  morals spring?
Quite an intangible conditioning,
In society, a necessary thing,
What is your philosophy of life,
or creed?  To live with no dull strife,
But who invented morality anyway?
In yet another societal day,
Who does write morality plays?

So, this is death by Bunnings,
This is so not funny,
So much for a store of hardware,
Then it's on to death by Ikea,
What am I doing here?
This is true fear,
Esoteric death by Ikea,
I've got absolutely no idea,
I've come home with a kit,
Comprised of a zillion bits,
Some of it's missing, it's
Giving me the blip,
How to assemble this?
Who even gives a blip?
Yes, it's death by Ikea,
A barrel of laughs here.
What bit goes here?
Doesn't even look near,
So not funny, non dears,
Total angst of Ikea,
Yes, esoteric death by Ikea.

Maybe I'll always be fat,
I take after my Dad, that's that,
Must accept that I am fat,
Fat, fat, fat, fat, fat,
That's what Moomba in Melbourne means, you cats,
"Let's get together and laugh at the fat!"
Obesity looms,
A voice of doom,
I'll eat chocolate soon,
Must accept that I am fat,
That's about all about that!

Expressions of the abstract,
Thoughts we can't retract,
Exquisite solar towers
of our mindful powers,
Into the glass ceiling,
Collectives of ideas and feelings,
Whence these expressions of abstract?
Thoughts we can't retract......

If Monday was a person,
Maudlin would be the lesson,
"Oh no, not another Monday."
"What became of Sunday funday?"
Yes, it's Monday, so it seems,
Same old dreary routine,
Back to the rat race again,
Commuting by car or train,
Wage slaves, off for gain,
Maudlin Monday on their brain,
"Yes, it's Monday, so it seems,
Same  old dreary  routine."

Mattel gave us Barbie and Ken,
They never grew old, according to them,
But, can you handle reality?
Barbie and Ken are now over fifty!
Barbie is fat with varicose veins,
With hairy legs, not so vain,
And Ken shall never see his toes again,
His six pack has turned into a beer belly,
Walking makes Ken quiver like jelly,
But, hey, they're forever Mattel,
Barbie's too old to say, "Ken, go to hell!"
Sad, but true, our childhood friends,
Yet they did grow old, Barbie and Ken........

How is the ex treating you?
Somedays it's a bit like a zoo,
Recriminations and regrets,
People you'd rather forget,
Amicable divorce not self-evident,
Happy-ever-after so  not manifest,
Added to your survivor baggage,
All part of your mental luggage!
Somedays, it is a bit like a zoo,
How is the ex treating you?

A beautiful world, it needs some cuddles,
All around, the world of struggles,
Plants all over are gasping,
While chemicals pollutants are grasping,
Fur, feathers and fish are becoming extinct,
As their habitats can no longer exist,
Then there's plebs in Earth, who struggle,
Overpopulation--maybe too many cuddles,
Soon for air we'll all be gasping,
While the powers--that-be go on grasping,
All around a world of struggles,
Our beautiful world needs a cuddle.

Think outside the quadrilateral parallelogram,
Enough of this whinese spam,
I stopped fighting my inner demons,
Now we're on the same side---he mans!

Can anarchy have empathy?
Yes, in our land of Aussies,
We say no wucking furries,
Always more snags on the barbie,
Still listen to a bit of Acca Dacca,
More burgers and fries from Maccas,
Frocked up in trackie dakkies,
Yes, it's the land of Aussies,
Our form of anarchy has empathy!