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Zoe Grace May 2019
We aren't scared of an-
a wild magpie appears
Oh ****!! ****, GO!! RUN!!
You're all worried about drop bears and crocodiles and spiders, but magpies are the real threat
Michael Mar 2019
The Ninth Battalion (Australia)

By Sun-filled day and frosty night,
O’er rugged hills and desert sand,
We learned to work as teams, to fight
In jungles of another land.

From every city, State and town,
All the lovely countryside,
Impelled by grim war’s cold, bleak frown,
Gathered we at fair Woodside.

And some of us were volunteers,
But mostly we young conscripts were,
With youthful hopes, ambitions, fears;
Young men’s dreams of love were there.

And lusts, for we weren’t choir boys,
Nor simpering wowser, nor old maid.
We searched for brawling, drinking joys
And chased the girls of Adelaide.

Oh Adelaide, what wondrous pubs,
The Rundle, Gresham (Mind you Roy?),
The Western, Finden, all were hubs
Of social, sinful, youthful joy.

But scarce the city trips sublime.
Beneath the awesome stars our home.
And Sun-bronzed we became with time,
Leigh Creek, Cultana, ours to roam.

At Murray Bridge we fired our weapons, honed our drills;
Formed Section and Platoon at Humbug Scrub, and that was fun.
We dug-dug-dug to prove to them that be our skills,
And by night stood freezing piquet on the gun.

Canungra’s forest, where chilled to bone
We learned to ambush and by sudden flare to ****.
The Flinders Range, those hills of stone.
Shoalwater Bay did prove our skill.

And at the last and having passed our nation’s test,
(for some a final accolade)
And to that question answered yes,
We made farewell to Adelaide.

At Murray Bridge we fired our weapons, honed our drills;
Formed Section and Platoon at Humbug Scrub, and that was fun.
We dug-dug-dug to prove to them that be our skills,
And by night stood freezing piquet on the gun.
Tony Tweedy Mar 2019
So many poems to inspire and convey every passion.
Expression of every emotion, thought and consciousness of place.
Of all the poetic words ever written none speaks so loud as a famous but anonymous and often quoted Australian line of verse...

" *uck me.... I stuffed it.... its *ucked".

No line has held the heartache, self disgust, resentment and sense of loss and desperate despair so concisely. Its brevity adding to its beauty. A full story in a line.
For non Aussies they may not see its beauty... but for an Aussie its high emotion in a nutshell.
Definitely not a poem...
Incidentally.... Anonymous denies comprehensively any association with the words quoted.
Tony Tweedy Mar 2019
Have you looked upon a western sky at a certain time of day?
When the endless turning of the world compels the sun to go away.
Have you looked across an open plain with soil of rust red brown?
And seen the brightest evening star burn bright as jewel in crown?
Have you seen the stands of trees fade into the black of night?
And watched them all but disappear as day makes final rays of light.
Have you seen upon the far horizon the shapes of ancient lands?
And watched the changing light show of radiant, fiery bands.
Have you seen the shades of fire change the western sky?
And marveled at all its beauty until it wets your very eye.
Have you taken time to note every shade in fiery hue?
And marveled at flame red clouds upon a sky of pastel blue.
Have you stood and watched the glory as it slowly fades away?
Dont despair and make the time, as it happens every day.
Shlomo Feb 2019
The scale of my ambition.

It’s getting too large to construct on my own.

Like many Africans, I’ve had enough.

News coverage showcasing this region.

Does nothing but reinforce the legion that you bring forth.

Continuously.

Now, I’ll spare you the analogies and set it out clearly.

To all those that are out to “end poverty”.

I applaud your initiative, your drive and determination.

So bear with me as I lay into you. I’m doing it out of love. Trust me.

Whenever I hear your mission.

I think “here we go again with the bare minimums.”

Nothing but bare minimums.

I yearn to be part of a new breed of Africans.

Who want to do more than just end poverty.

What about all those who have escaped its deathly grip.

But still live precarious and unfulfilled lives?

My mission is to build an empire.

To empower. To nurture innovation and prosperity.

One that surpasses anything you could ever imagine and conceive.

If you think that’s ridiculous and absurd.

Wait till you see how I plan on going about this deed.

If I hear another **** politician talking about “ending poverty.”

I swear I’ll ******* snap.

But don’t worry, it’ll just be a picture.

One more to my growing catalogue.

Reminding me of your never-ending plan of world *******.

“So remember guys, bare minimum. Say it with me.

“Bare minimum.”
Sorry if I hurt your feelings. That's not my intention. I'm just as passionate about this as you are.
https://soundcloud.com/shlomotion/the-ubiquitous-boy
daffodil Feb 2019
Lazy dusty days drifting by slowly in an orange haze
Hot red sun burning down
Caressing my soft skin
With its suffocating, heady kiss
Drunk on rays of gold
Blessed with moments of sweet clarity, darling relief
as the air lifts my hair and bestows its blissful touch upon my warm body
Blue desert sky glides above me
A dream of oasis a taunting suggestion
Whispers of water and ocean
The call of the wild
Draws the breath from my lungs
With the night sky, yellow moon, river of stars
Sphinx Jan 2019
Its 40° outside
so we're beside
the seaside

sunbathing on the sand
and swimming out, post and pre-tanned
with the sun beaming
and the sausages steaming
this day is bound to be grand!
Anna Nigma Nov 2018
**** this stupid
Big
******* massive
Enormous
country of ours.
This desolate land
God forsaken.
My skin is too soft,
My heart is too weak
to be dragged up and down coasts
Chasings stories and heartache.
A mail-order bride,
A ******* for love,
the mouse
who ran to the
Predator.
bugsy Oct 2018
There once was beauty beyond belief
In far north Queensland’s barrier reef
Beneath the surface of the sea
There lay a world of fantasy

Amid the shallows of the deep
Countless crustaceans crawled and creeped
A place so different from the land
Until it was touched by humans hand

Now polluted by plastic sedimentary and decay
Has our only solution been washed away
Once a wondrous landmark to behold
Gone in a heart beat, the oceans tale, told

Although there a politicians that still deny
A warming ozone will bid the coral colours goodbye
Littered white graveyards accomplished the sin
If only we had thrown our ******* in the bin

A tremendous story of ecological distress
Hopefully we can learn from this disastrous mess
/gt
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