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an isle
of wealth
reclusively habitat
if credible
view of
turkeys when
feeding themselves
upon trumps
and there
is coming
this inhabitated
third world
now arbitral
very watchful
of nature
where it
has delved.
Maria is there
MARK RIORDAN Mar 2017
THE COMMONWEALTH GAMES
THE QUEEN'S BATON RELAY
THE POETRY OF QUEENSLAND
IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE TODAY


MY BOOK IS IN THE PALACE
MY LETTER FROM THE QUEEN
PROMOTING OUR BEAUTIFUL STATE
LIKE NEVER EVER SEEN


I AM A BRISBANE POET
THE QUEEN HAS MY BOOK
THE BATON RELAY HAS STARTED
BY HOOK OR BY CROOK
THE POETRY OF QUEENSLAND HAS BEEN IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE SINCE MAY 2016. THE COMMONWEALTH GAMES GOLD COAST. THE QUEEN'S BATON RELAY HAS COMMENCED. THIS BOOK IS A BEAUTIFUL GIFT OF THE GAMES IN AUSTRALIA IN 2018.
MARK RIORDAN Mar 2017
THE QUEENS BATON RELAY
STARTS FOR THE COMMONWEALTH GAMES
THE TORCH IS NEALY READY TO GO
THE MESSAGE WILL REMAIN THE SAME


ATHLETES HAVE COMPASSION AND SKILL
AND WILL COMPETE ON THE GOLD COAST
THEY ALL HAVE DEDICATION AND PASSION
BUT TEAM SPIRIT IS THE MOST


THE GAMES REPRESENT
THE BEST OF THE BEST
COMPETING WITH EACH OTHER
THERE IS NO OTHER CONTEST


THE TORCH NOW STARTS
SUCH AN INCREDIBLE JOURNEY
CROSSING OUR GREAT PLANET TO SEE
THE TORCH YOU MUST GET UP EARLY
COMMONWEALTH GAMES GOLD COAST 2018. I ALWAYS FEEL HONOURED WHEN COMPOSING A POEM ABOUT HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN.
Martin Narrod May 2014
Gold crown of Olympus, hair crown and
Skin gown. First we throw our bodies at
One another. Heaping piles of human soup.
Bold maneuvers, hands and mouths and
Boy meets girl lying down, on top, intertwined.
Skittish moves on a tryst. Wet fingers of freshly
Tendered infinite decibel pleasure screams.
Streamers above a long rooting movement.

Overture of Aphrodite. Sparkling, glitter woman,
Legs pressed tightly to the chest,
Loose appendages intertwined. Intersticed dactyls
In rapture, soothing. Bodies build to one heart's beat.
Two muses fused together. If I wasn't afraid I'd wake you up
I'd slip on my shoes and make a tropical fruit fondue.

Stage two:

Ice cream lover's delight. Opus to brown sugar.
To swimming again, a pursed lurking of lips
In the academy of the pastoral commonwealth.
We eat at our stations of the sublime. Today which was
A day of discord- you nursed me back to the land of the living.

Stage three:

***.

Stage four.

***.

Stage five:

As we earn our pageantry to take
Stride on this Earth, and string a
Great bow of eager success among all of us,
You, me, them. While I continue to
Gaze at you. If not dinner, perhaps a
Cup of tea instead.

— The End —