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"brisbane" poems
hi dudes i am in a good mood, i am doing the bbq tomorrow and i tipped kangaroos over essendon kangaroos won adelaide over st kilda adelaide won hawthorn over melbourne hawthorn won GWS over carlton, GWS won sydney over geelong, sydney won west coast over gold coast, west coast won and if fremantle beat western bulldogs and collingwood beat richmond and port adelaide beat brisbane i have tipped all the winners of this round i am doing the bbq tomorrow in kippax hoping i grab the second full winner
0
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
i am on the way, selecting all the teams, i hope
5:00 am - Happy New Year! I look like I should be a musician not a poet. "It's so easy being a poet so hard being a man"       - Charles Bukowski ---- 5:14 am - Passing Rocklea, no sign of the dawn. Coopers Plains station. 3 people get on. Florescent lights cast a spell of sleep. I wish I could sleep right now. Eyelids droop like sad flowers  from a convenience store. I write metaphors like a drunken amateur. Trinder park - Sounds like a bad neighbourhood. **** ME ITS WOODRIDGE. Where even the McDonalds sign is ****** XxXxxxxxx, Xxxxxx Xxxxxx : She could be fun. So tight, she sometimes felt  illegal. Tight and bald. I would slide up to the ***** She loved it rough, golden hair wrapped around my fingers as she was pushed into the pillow. She was loud in the mornings. I could feel her tight *** grinding against my thighs as I ****** her harder  and harder. Until I came : either inside her. Or on her chest. Or in her prim pink suburban mouth. Tightening my grip on her hair as the hot ***** spurted against the back of  her throat. The head of my **** throbbing as she gulped it down with silent satisfaction. That only happened twice though. ---- 5:37 am - The Dawn begins to rise over the Suburban Nation. Final remnants of night twinkle like stars against the silhouette of society. House lights Street lights (and the omnipresent) fluorescent light. Beenleigh station - A pinch faced older woman gets on. Business suit, lunch box. Short hair, glasses. Her earrings are imitation mother of pearl (step-mother of pearl?) She  sits next to a window covered in graffiti. Prim, tight  mouth incarnadine lipstick. Over in the distance a smokestack cuts through the sky above the horizon. Trees do mask the sun and sky. "Hippies; they spend their whole life trying  to get to a microphone and when they do, they don't tell anyone  to **** off." - The Wolfman. ---- 5:52 am - One more stop. The clouds  are the colour of smoke against the pearl blue sky. ---- 6:00 am - Arrival. Clouds are tinged with fire and blood incandescently. You can watch it spread and grow with intensity. Taxi driver  was  a foul mouthed Indian.
0
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
Brisbane Street Sketch 5
5:00 am - Happy New Year! I look like I should be a musician not a poet. "It's so easy being a poet so hard being a man"       - Charles Bukowski ---- 5:14 am - Passing Rocklea, no sign of the dawn. Coopers Plains station. 3 people get on. Florescent lights cast a spell of sleep. I wish I could sleep right now. Eyelids droop like sad flowers  from a convenience store. I write metaphors like a drunken amateur. Trinder park - Sounds like a bad neighbourhood. **** ME ITS WOODRIDGE. Where even the McDonalds sign is ****** XxXxxxxxx, Xxxxxx Xxxxxx : She could be fun. So tight, she sometimes felt  illegal. Tight and bald. I would slide up to the ***** She loved it rough, golden hair wrapped around my fingers as she was pushed into the pillow. She was loud in the mornings. I could feel her tight *** grinding against my thighs as I ****** her harder  and harder. Until I came : either inside her. Or on her chest. Or in her prim pink suburban mouth. Tightening my grip on her hair as the hot ***** spurted against the back of  her throat. The head of my **** throbbing as she gulped it down with silent satisfaction. That only happened twice though. ---- 5:37 am - The Dawn begins to rise over the Suburban Nation. Final remnants of night twinkle like stars against the silhouette of society. House lights Street lights (and the omnipresent) fluorescent light. Beenleigh station - A pinch faced older woman gets on. Business suit, lunch box. Short hair, glasses. Her earrings are imitation mother of pearl (step-mother of pearl?) She  sits next to a window covered in graffiti. Prim, tight  mouth incarnadine lipstick. Over in the distance a smokestack cuts through the sky above the horizon. Trees do mask the sun and sky. "Hippies; they spend their whole life trying  to get to a microphone and when they do, they don't tell anyone  to **** off." - The Wolfman. ---- 5:52 am - One more stop. The clouds  are the colour of smoke against the pearl blue sky. ---- 6:00 am - Arrival. Clouds are tinged with fire and blood incandescently. You can watch it spread and grow with intensity. Taxi driver  was  a foul mouthed Indian.
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67
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
0
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
MY BOOK IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE
Go thunder go thunder go thunder go We sent the heat packing It looked like we were going to lose it But then we dismissed the heat And sent them packing We are the might of Sydney thunder Into the grand final yeah We are the might of Sydney thunder Kicking *** is what we do We nearly ****** lost it But somehow wickets started falling We are the night of Sydney thunder Go the mighty thunder Put out Brisbane’s heat Yes we party yes we are great We did it well at north Sydney oval tonight The heat don’t know what hit them It was all the thunders fault The might of Sydney thunder Sydney thunder Sydney thunder Bring on the stars Go thunder go
0
Nov 26, 2020
Nov 26, 2020 at 7:00 AM UTC
Sydney Sydney Sydney THUNDER
There’s a line in a movie which goes something like “pain is good, it lets you know you are still alive”. The obvious question that I can hear you asking is “So when the pain goes away you know you’re dead?” This inevitably leads to a conversation about life after death. Now that topic can be dangerous if you don’t walk away from the conversation quickly enough, at one of “those” parties, you know the ones; the one you would not have gone to if you knew that the person who invited you believed in the power of healing crystals. So as the bottles of wine get emptier, the part time philosophers get louder and more opinionated about everything from the existence of an afterlife to what was the “real” message behind the final episode of M.A.S.H. And yes, I have been unfortunate enough to actually hear some overfilled part time philosopher postulate a well thought out, theory on the subject at an Italian restaurant in Brisbane and unfortunately was only up to desert so could not escape without missing out on coffee and Muscat and cigars. It was a tough call though. Ah smoking in a restaurant, those were the days, now where was I? So given the opportunity to choose an activity which you know involves pain, i.e.: Rugby League, running a Marathon, Childbirth or listening to drunk part time philosophers at parties, why would you knowingly throw yourself into any of these extreme sports? Well maybe because the rewards of the end result are worth the pain involved during the activity. So that cool night in that Italian restaurant I sat through Scott’s theory, not knowing at the time if the pain of the story was going to be offset by the quality of the temptations to follow desert. And so that leads me to the reason for writing this. A friend of mine recently wrote. “Apparently any given situation can look good if viewed from the right angle. Sometimes I get cramps!” Well my friend the Muscat was good that night, the coffee rich and earthy and the cigars cheap but free. Scotts actual theory is long gone from my head but the memory of that Muscat coffee and cigars lingers for twenty years. I am lead to believe that cramps may be a symptom or complication of pregnancy, kidney disease, thyroid disease, hypokalemia, hypomagnesaemia or hypocalcaemia (as conditions), restless-leg syndrome, varicose veins,[2] and multiple sclerosis.* So, given that if in fact it turned out that you had one of these afflictions and the cramps lead you to discovering this fact, I would say the cramps; like my terrible dinner experience, viewed from the right angle looks good! Now off to the doctor with you, I’m off to the bottleshop. *From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
0
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
Cramps
There’s a line in a movie which goes something like “pain is good, it lets you know you are still alive”. The obvious question that I can hear you asking is “So when the pain goes away you know you’re dead?” This inevitably leads to a conversation about life after death. Now that topic can be dangerous if you don’t walk away from the conversation quickly enough, at one of “those” parties, you know the ones; the one you would not have gone to if you knew that the person who invited you believed in the power of healing crystals. So as the bottles of wine get emptier, the part time philosophers get louder and more opinionated about everything from the existence of an afterlife to what was the “real” message behind the final episode of M.A.S.H. And yes, I have been unfortunate enough to actually hear some overfilled part time philosopher postulate a well thought out, theory on the subject at an Italian restaurant in Brisbane and unfortunately was only up to desert so could not escape without missing out on coffee and Muscat and cigars. It was a tough call though. Ah smoking in a restaurant, those were the days, now where was I? So given the opportunity to choose an activity which you know involves pain, i.e.: Rugby League, running a Marathon, Childbirth or listening to drunk part time philosophers at parties, why would you knowingly throw yourself into any of these extreme sports? Well maybe because the rewards of the end result are worth the pain involved during the activity. So that cool night in that Italian restaurant I sat through Scott’s theory, not knowing at the time if the pain of the story was going to be offset by the quality of the temptations to follow desert. And so that leads me to the reason for writing this. A friend of mine recently wrote. “Apparently any given situation can look good if viewed from the right angle. Sometimes I get cramps!” Well my friend the Muscat was good that night, the coffee rich and earthy and the cigars cheap but free. Scotts actual theory is long gone from my head but the memory of that Muscat coffee and cigars lingers for twenty years. I am lead to believe that cramps may be a symptom or complication of pregnancy, kidney disease, thyroid disease, hypokalemia, hypomagnesaemia or hypocalcaemia (as conditions), restless-leg syndrome, varicose veins,[2] and multiple sclerosis.* So, given that if in fact it turned out that you had one of these afflictions and the cramps lead you to discovering this fact, I would say the cramps; like my terrible dinner experience, viewed from the right angle looks good! Now off to the doctor with you, I’m off to the bottleshop. *From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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7
Treasury  Casino - 2:30 am From my seat in the smokers section I can see the Brisbane eye, the river, and the  performing arts center. Streetlights  are mans answer  to the cosmos "Everything you can do, I can make better." Once it was said that we were made in God's image. Now we can safely say that God was  made in our image. I am in a quiet place of the universe, the night stretches on visible through the stately wonderous walls carved of old wood  and sandstone. I am in a suede armchair, winged for pleasure. The ceiling in this room is twice as high as an ordinary room. Circular steel ***** hang down like a path of bubbles left  by a leviathan. My water was poured  with panache. Let me set  the scene for you: I'm in the  Treasury Casino, this building was once the QLD state treasury, it never changed really. Sitting next to  window that overlooks the river, a glass of water sits to my left. The room is the size of a double garage, maybe bigger. The floor and ceilings are made of old wood, the walls are decorated with a transparent gray fabric that remindsme of smoke. An old marble fireplace sits in a wall studded with tiny lights that resemble stars or candles. Above me is a series of hanging circular light fixtures that resemble a trail of bubbles left by a leviathan. This room was designed for,  and houses opulence.   The TV plays Eminem. Peter Garrett dances like a Parkinson's sufferer. And looks like Disco-Nosferatu. We have  killed the night and neon power and infomercials **** the romance once held by late night solitude.
0
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Brisbane Street Sketch 2
Treasury  Casino - 2:30 am From my seat in the smokers section I can see the Brisbane eye, the river, and the  performing arts center. Streetlights  are mans answer  to the cosmos "Everything you can do, I can make better." Once it was said that we were made in God's image. Now we can safely say that God was  made in our image. I am in a quiet place of the universe, the night stretches on visible through the stately wonderous walls carved of old wood  and sandstone. I am in a suede armchair, winged for pleasure. The ceiling in this room is twice as high as an ordinary room. Circular steel ***** hang down like a path of bubbles left  by a leviathan. My water was poured  with panache. Let me set  the scene for you: I'm in the  Treasury Casino, this building was once the QLD state treasury, it never changed really. Sitting next to  window that overlooks the river, a glass of water sits to my left. The room is the size of a double garage, maybe bigger. The floor and ceilings are made of old wood, the walls are decorated with a transparent gray fabric that remindsme of smoke. An old marble fireplace sits in a wall studded with tiny lights that resemble stars or candles. Above me is a series of hanging circular light fixtures that resemble a trail of bubbles left by a leviathan. This room was designed for,  and houses opulence.   The TV plays Eminem. Peter Garrett dances like a Parkinson's sufferer. And looks like Disco-Nosferatu. We have  killed the night and neon power and infomercials **** the romance once held by late night solitude.
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33
4:11 am - The nighthawks are starting to resemble pigeons. Train station is deserted. An employee checks the bins as the tunnel fills  with the ringing of a distant bell, heralding the arrival of the morning train. 42  minutes till my train. I can smell the acrid fumes of the Ferny Grove train. The behemoth pulls away- empty. At least I'm not existential anymore. There is an installation of a coffin made from old bits of railroad, "Not everyone makes it across the tracks" This reminder of mortality is strangely fitting in a place of transit. The true face of memento mori is  shown. Remember that you too will die, and everything will come to pass. It's times like this that make me wish 'The Sound of Silence" was never written. For its perfection in this moment comes as a burst of pure divine bliss. The kind you wish would never fade away. But inevitably does. And all we are left with is a memory of that bliss, everytime we hear the song (after the first time). As if we are recalling the curves of an old lover from the shadow of yesterdays gone. Dancing beneath our fingertips, always out of reach. Memory is never as divine as the moment that burnt it in. ---- 4:29 am - It was ephemeral. The trainyard announcer has a cultured voice. ---- 4:41 am - I fear the muse has left me, beauty fled. DEAR GOD - PLEASE LET THERE BE A CAB AT THE STATION FOR ME. Selection 11 gave me the water i desired. 11 minutes till the train. D.O.B. 11/2 Aquarius,  11th  sign of the Zodiac. Will I see the dawn rise from the train? There is no light at the end of the tunnel from where I sit. Inexplicably: I recall the cool river air that bathed us as we lay naked in your apartment, the smell of cigarettes on our skin, the evening peppered with scurrying, fighting possums that danced upon your balcony. I recall being inside you. (Then I imagined you being eaten out by a woman her lips inside yours, her curled tongue inside your hot, bald golden **** And I came. Warm and glorious my children of pleasure caught in a latex coffin. Your heaves of pleasure pushing against my chest with the rhythm of waves. ---- 4:46 am - On the train. Fluorescent lighting is the devil. Everything is garish yellow. We  pull up to the station near where you lived. Your blue  rose lives in a Chinese vase and no longer smells of Marlene Dietrich.
0
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 1:59 AM UTC
Brisbane Street Sketch 4
4:11 am - The nighthawks are starting to resemble pigeons. Train station is deserted. An employee checks the bins as the tunnel fills  with the ringing of a distant bell, heralding the arrival of the morning train. 42  minutes till my train. I can smell the acrid fumes of the Ferny Grove train. The behemoth pulls away- empty. At least I'm not existential anymore. There is an installation of a coffin made from old bits of railroad, "Not everyone makes it across the tracks" This reminder of mortality is strangely fitting in a place of transit. The true face of memento mori is  shown. Remember that you too will die, and everything will come to pass. It's times like this that make me wish 'The Sound of Silence" was never written. For its perfection in this moment comes as a burst of pure divine bliss. The kind you wish would never fade away. But inevitably does. And all we are left with is a memory of that bliss, everytime we hear the song (after the first time). As if we are recalling the curves of an old lover from the shadow of yesterdays gone. Dancing beneath our fingertips, always out of reach. Memory is never as divine as the moment that burnt it in. ---- 4:29 am - It was ephemeral. The trainyard announcer has a cultured voice. ---- 4:41 am - I fear the muse has left me, beauty fled. DEAR GOD - PLEASE LET THERE BE A CAB AT THE STATION FOR ME. Selection 11 gave me the water i desired. 11 minutes till the train. D.O.B. 11/2 Aquarius,  11th  sign of the Zodiac. Will I see the dawn rise from the train? There is no light at the end of the tunnel from where I sit. Inexplicably: I recall the cool river air that bathed us as we lay naked in your apartment, the smell of cigarettes on our skin, the evening peppered with scurrying, fighting possums that danced upon your balcony. I recall being inside you. (Then I imagined you being eaten out by a woman her lips inside yours, her curled tongue inside your hot, bald golden **** And I came. Warm and glorious my children of pleasure caught in a latex coffin. Your heaves of pleasure pushing against my chest with the rhythm of waves. ---- 4:46 am - On the train. Fluorescent lighting is the devil. Everything is garish yellow. We  pull up to the station near where you lived. Your blue  rose lives in a Chinese vase and no longer smells of Marlene Dietrich.
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58
Women’s afl Round 1 Geelong. 3. 6. 24 Collingwood. 3. 5. 23 Bulldogs. 2. 6. 18 Adelaide. 1. 11. 17 Kangaroos. 7. 10. 52 Carlton 2. 4. 16 Fremantle 9. 5. 59 Melbourne 8. 7. 55 Brisbane. 4. 5. 29 GWS. 4. 3. 27 Some very close games Shows that women’s afl can be very exciting not as high scoring as the men but the women played very well Well done to Geelong bulldogs kangaroos Fremantle and Brisbane The champions are upon us today Each game was exciting to play Each team played well but only one winner is allowed Unless it is a draw
0
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 2:52 AM UTC
womens afl competition of 2019, round 1
Never down this road did I sing within a tune Never while I wandered did I ever think of you Ever as I walked, I ached right down to bone Never once your name is whispered Walking too far from home Break the spirit spill the wine flood the river before my time You can't predict the future when you can't see the past I yearn for the groove and the rest of the **** that will never last Take me down I simply do not care We rebound with others in which we simply do compare The Summer is gone now its here for you Spring is my jester now I'm playing the shrew I'll keep on walking until the end of day With no companion nor fair sense of play Just walking down this endless path Not leaving a trace for others to mark No telling story where I might have laid No fleeting glory in this trek I've made I'll not speak outside the lines as I walk on down this great divide Sit you down with a drink to sip but beware the bottomless of the cup for degradation that way lays as noted by walking these endless days Tomorrows a birch boy the **** never seems to end Old friends past no trace remains Happiness is a grand disillusion so let's not pretend In those pines down in that humid breeze is where the past does exist Buired are my thoughts somewhere unmarked is the grave underneath the leaves From Carolina to Brisbane the weather's different and always the same Words passed between poems stories are all just different solutions to the exact duplicate game No one knows where the wind blows driving needles from the pines into veins that are on fire But we keep on walking Bare feet on black tar Walking on until we tire
0
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 5:48 AM UTC
Black Tar And Bare Feet /Co Write With Helen
Never down this road did I sing within a tune Never while I wandered did I ever think of you Ever as I walked, I ached right down to bone Never once your name is whispered Walking too far from home Break the spirit spill the wine flood the river before my time You can't predict the future when you can't see the past I yearn for the groove and the rest of the **** that will never last Take me down I simply do not care We rebound with others in which we simply do compare The Summer is gone now its here for you Spring is my jester now I'm playing the shrew I'll keep on walking until the end of day With no companion nor fair sense of play Just walking down this endless path Not leaving a trace for others to mark No telling story where I might have laid No fleeting glory in this trek I've made I'll not speak outside the lines as I walk on down this great divide Sit you down with a drink to sip but beware the bottomless of the cup for degradation that way lays as noted by walking these endless days Tomorrows a birch boy the **** never seems to end Old friends past no trace remains Happiness is a grand disillusion so let's not pretend In those pines down in that humid breeze is where the past does exist Buired are my thoughts somewhere unmarked is the grave underneath the leaves From Carolina to Brisbane the weather's different and always the same Words passed between poems stories are all just different solutions to the exact duplicate game No one knows where the wind blows driving needles from the pines into veins that are on fire But we keep on walking Bare feet on black tar Walking on until we tire
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49
a rumor is circulating in gardening circles on the continent of England the said rumor has traveled along a long vine to the down under land we the vegetable growers of Brisbane are very disturbed about what we've heard to us the rumor sounds rather absurd we've taken it upon ourselves to send a letter to the British Garden Society asking them if the rumor has any propriety sometimes a story can be misrepresented especially when the details of it aren't correctly presented we're seeking clarification from those who have the right oil as to whether the rumor has any truth in the soil this is the rumor that has been doing the rounds and it relates to the High Grove grounds a Yorkshire man who was sight seeing there has said that he saw Charles the regal heir talking to the garden slugs and snails whilst walking amid the lettuce and kale we know that his highness loves chatting to the trees and he's often spoken to the earthworms and bees we're totally confounded to hear of him talking to garden pests and we're hoping of this behavior the Prince will soon divest
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
Rumor
1,000 miles from the Merry Christmas muzak in Port Moresby Fat Brisbane taxi philosopher’s poor mouth moaning season Navan road Sydney AMEX girl pining for the cold in Dublin Along with traditional stuffing of turkey ham and trimmings.   10,000 miles to London via sticky Bangkok “Merry Clistmas” And cattle class envy of First class lounge showers mid-flight But Jetlag is the same nightmare at both ends of the plane As we fly across the universe to be home for Christmas. 1,000,000 people flying to their friends and families Do all those sad, glad, bad, mad once-a-year reunions Make it to Happy New Year without killing each other Resolving to be prosperous, viceless and happy again?
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
Across the Universe
Spill the sass in your throat, Sit in that infectious boat, and swallow the fire like a Mod 90's Caeser. Pull that rope of impossibilities, and swing to the door of happiness, like the enchanting fireworks in Brisbane. Climb the ladder of odds, and kiss the pole of awkwardness, like Beyonce dropping jaws with her moves. Misread, mistaken, misled by faith, and drinking a glass full of honesty, like you own your mistakes & fantasies. Funny fulfilled fantasies, and anonymous swallowed fears, like a diamond over an opaque rock.
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Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 4:17 AM UTC
Salt & Pepper
a rumor is circulating in gardening circles  on the continent of England the said rumor has traveled along a long vine to the down under land we the vegetable growers of Brisbane are very disturbed by what we've heard to us the rumor sounds rather absurd we've taken it upon ourselves to send a letter to the British Garden Society asking them if the rumor has any propriety sometimes a story can be misrepresented especially when the details of it aren't correctly presented we're seeking clarification from those who have the right oil as to whether the rumor has any truth in the soil this is the rumor that is doing the rounds and it relates to the High Grove grounds a Yorkshire man who was sight seeing there has said that he saw Charles the regal heir talking to the garden slugs and snails whilst walking amid the lettuce and kale we know that his highness loves chatting to the trees and has often spoken to the earthworms and bees we're totally dumbfounded to hear of him talking to garden pests and we're hoping of this behavior the Prince will soon divest
0
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 6:50 AM UTC
Rumor
I look back, was it all worth it? Saying good bye at the airport pretending like it wasn't going to be our last. I'm walking to my car holding back my tears, almost lost it. You got on that plane, didn't look back. On my way back to Clear Lake I pull off to the side of the road, almost lost it. You land in Brisbane, didn't look back. I walk into our apartment look into your room, almost lost it. You're home now, didn't look back. I sent you something in the mail, must of lost it. You're seeing someone now, did you look back? It's New Year's Eve I'm here You're there I'm alone You're far from it I lost it And now I can't look back
0
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 8:35 PM UTC
Untitled
when i wake up without my glasses sometimes i think i'm still in a tent on the side of a highway in queensland and the sun coming up starts a stopwatch t-minus 20 minutes until the air heats up like an oven merrily roasting the blonde figures on either side of a slightly deflated air mattress. if i keep my blurry vision fixed i can hear whip birds and cackling kookaburras and a vague buzzing i forget as soon as i shift my attention. i want to push my too-tanned face through the moth-dotted 10-second-tent ***** and gasp wholly unsatisfying gulps of petrol station breezes. but when i wake up with my contacts cementing my eyelids shut i think i'm hungover in a grimy hostel in brisbane with a different blond figure gripping my hip and 29 other filthy travelers snoring uproariously in the same room and every one of them asleep with stories still pressed to their lips willing to trade for the thrill of it. and i know i won't be able to find my keycard in the tangled sheets and anyway, my bunk in my own room doesn't have a ladder and there's always a german girl sleeping below with her underwear hanging from the bars i use to clamber up so i sigh and pass that problem down to future-me fall back asleep and when i wake up i have miscalculated and somehow i'm twelve thousand miles away already as abrupt as this but sometimes for a few myopic seconds, my chest feels light.
0
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
reverse-culture shock
chill surrenders to sun blazing on a sky of deepening blue. hour of quiet gathering batteries fallow this city matured in two decades gallery guards stalking & pouncing from boredom behind wire people tie balloons to funk neighbours wake up a renovated slope saturday traffic gathers swish & hum, truck accent. weather collects wanderers friends missing a year reuniting like a week passed
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May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
Brisbane Morning
Do you have a ticket to ride ? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                Do you have a ticket to ride ?                  Only this Eagle’s for poets                    You have to take JetStar                     Of course no unwashed                      Unless you show faith                       Having faith essential                        As no atheists here                         Virtually a reality                          Especially here                           Air Sea Eagle                           To fly up n up.                             Into the sky                              Careful now                               Keep hats on                               Experience it                               Two hour trip                                 To Brisbane                                 Over mountains                                 Rivers and lakes                                 In a wink of an eye.                                   Destination Philip                                 Experience the spirit. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Just a little fun. A concrete poem. Written by Philip November4th 2018.
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 4:19 AM UTC
Do you have a ticket to ride. Do you have a ticket to ride ? (An acrostic concrete poem)
Do you have a ticket to ride ? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                Do you have a ticket to ride ?                  Only this Eagle’s for poets                    You have to take JetStar                     Of course no unwashed                      Unless you show faith                       Having faith essential                        As no atheists here                         Virtually a reality                          Especially here                           Air Sea Eagle                           To fly up n up.                             Into the sky                              Careful now                               Keep hats on                               Experience it                               Two hour trip                                 To Brisbane                                 Over mountains                                 Rivers and lakes                                 In a wink of an eye.                                   Destination Philip                                 Experience the spirit. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Just a little fun. A concrete poem. Written by Philip November4th 2018.
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28
Let’s put the pieces together form the remnants of our broken hearts, let’s tear down these walls, without tearing each other apart, pulled in several different directions, by several different girls, each one of them in a way a reflection, of every emotion that’s ever occurred, so each one of them is special, which is why the Single Life is preferred, On a rooftop in Brisbane, livin’ the business but the thrill is gone, still I B.B. King, still I Stay Calm & Carry On, no crown though, but best believe beef still gets ground slow, all I know is Life’s a trip, so what kinda trip are you on? ∆ LaLux ∆ Brisbane 2019
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Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 7:14 PM UTC
Ovolo
I'm here in Brisbane city There are people passing by I'm staring at the ceiling I'm getting high on the drugs Need another cigarette to calm my nerves The girls are putting on a show here in Brisbane city silhouettes of innocence portrayed in plays on Broadway there is so much left for me to say These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. I want to create a memory here is Brisbane city I dialled your number into my phone I know you've been hanging on my call you're a girl with attitude There are so many things I want to do with you here in Brisbane city Nothing comes easy I'm learning to survive with every minute I wait and every breath I take I know there's a better way These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. I want to bear the mark of you You can see the part of me hidden under my tattoos it ain't a pretty sight when I breakdown (alright) I didn't want you to see me cry here in Brisbane city There are so many things in this world You've learned a million signs about reading between the lines and every time I looked into her eyes I didn't think to see the signs that you needed me in your life (alright) These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. Now I'm sitting in an empty house in Brisbane city And I know where I went wrong But I can't stand this feeling of being alone (alone) I can't stand this feeling of being alone And I know where I went wrong But I'm sick of being alone And I won't move on You shouldn't leave me on my own here in Brisbane city Cakk you up to come around so I'm not alone in this empty house in Brisbane city These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. The spotlight comes on As I start singing into this microphone The crowd starts to go wild I'm drunk Here in Brisbane city and girl your wrong for all the right reasons nobody has to be alone tonight Because I need you all in my life here in Brisbane city Everyone starts singing along with me here in Brisbane city silhouettes of innocence portrayed in plays on Broadway there is nothing left for me to say In Brisbane city Here in Brisbane city ©2018 Written By Benji James
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 5:19 AM UTC
Brisbane City (I'm Here)
I'm here in Brisbane city There are people passing by I'm staring at the ceiling I'm getting high on the drugs Need another cigarette to calm my nerves The girls are putting on a show here in Brisbane city silhouettes of innocence portrayed in plays on Broadway there is so much left for me to say These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. I want to create a memory here is Brisbane city I dialled your number into my phone I know you've been hanging on my call you're a girl with attitude There are so many things I want to do with you here in Brisbane city Nothing comes easy I'm learning to survive with every minute I wait and every breath I take I know there's a better way These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. I want to bear the mark of you You can see the part of me hidden under my tattoos it ain't a pretty sight when I breakdown (alright) I didn't want you to see me cry here in Brisbane city There are so many things in this world You've learned a million signs about reading between the lines and every time I looked into her eyes I didn't think to see the signs that you needed me in your life (alright) These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. Now I'm sitting in an empty house in Brisbane city And I know where I went wrong But I can't stand this feeling of being alone (alone) I can't stand this feeling of being alone And I know where I went wrong But I'm sick of being alone And I won't move on You shouldn't leave me on my own here in Brisbane city Cakk you up to come around so I'm not alone in this empty house in Brisbane city These dead-end streets are leading nowhere Familiar faces in far-off places My imagination keeps on creating situations that's no good for me I'm supposed to be carefree But lately, I haven't felt the same as I used to be. The spotlight comes on As I start singing into this microphone The crowd starts to go wild I'm drunk Here in Brisbane city and girl your wrong for all the right reasons nobody has to be alone tonight Because I need you all in my life here in Brisbane city Everyone starts singing along with me here in Brisbane city silhouettes of innocence portrayed in plays on Broadway there is nothing left for me to say In Brisbane city Here in Brisbane city ©2018 Written By Benji James
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106
Hey Barty it is good you won the French open wasn’t it You see she was just a girl from Ipswich town in the state of Queensland and when she picked up a racket from an early age I always thought she had it in her blood yeah You see despite letting her opposition in she still came out on top and the pressure she gave her opposition a headache she was very very good Barty clap clap clap Barty clap clap clap C’mon Barty let’s go party Oh yeah come on C’mon Barty let’s go party Ooooooh yeah c’mon Barty clap clap clap Barty clap clap clap She left tennis to play big bash cricket For the Brisbane heat yeah But soon after she got back into the game she loves which is the game of tennis You see she will deliver an ace And shock the opposition so bad yeah Then she will play hit hit games Right till the end till the point is hers Barty clap clap clap Barty clap clap clap C’mon Barty let’s go party Oh yeah come on C’mon Barty let’s go party Ooooooh yeah c’mon Barty clap clap clap Barty clap clap clap As we cheer for Barty Our voices are losing And all that is fine Because for the simple reason She isn’t losing She has the right mind for winning Everyone who likes tennis Will be celebrating her win with alcohol Whether it is beer or wine or ***** or scotch or something a hell of a lot stronger Barty clap clap clap Barty clap clap clap Congratulations Ashley Barty For winning the 2019 French open tennis
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Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 11:04 PM UTC
c'mon barty let's go party
Canberra Canberra the team to beat they won 3-1 in the last to bring them to the grand The crowd in Perth are very sad Canberra are through to the grand final against Brisbane Everybody moves everybody grooves Canberra are the best And they are prepared to say Bring on Brisbane beat the bandits The cavalry are playing well And they are still apart of the comp You see as the pitcher pitches The ball to try and defend this little lead Go the mighty Canberra Rah rah rah Come on Canberra The fun is just beginning The championship is just around the corner Let’s get down and boogaloo dudes GO CAVALRY there is a little queen song which will Get you through Cavs are the champions we hope They sre only 3 or three wins away so cool Cavs are the champions They are the mighty Cavalry The grand final has one of your hands on the trophy let’s make it two Sent from my iPhone
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Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 6:12 AM UTC
canberra cavalry victory song
Come fly like an Eagle              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                 Come fly like an Eagle                               Like                         A sea Eagle                 We will fly from Sydney               Up and away to Brisbane            So make yourself comfortable        We will fly so high above the clouds     Without the aid of any mind altering drugs                          Don’t look down !                           Trust in only me                            For I am a poet                            With the license                            A special license                            To an inspiration - [ ]                  Living your dreams - [ ]                     From that Fantasy - [ ]                     Into your true Reality - [ ]                    Fasten your safety belt - [ ]              It’s just at the joint of my wings - [ ]              Turn off all your mobile devices - [ ]           Now let the poetry begin my friends - [ ]       Write to me with your poetic inspiration - [ ]                        Kind regards Philip. - [ ] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ - [ ] November 4th 2018.
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Come fly like an Eagle
Come fly like an Eagle              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                 Come fly like an Eagle                               Like                         A sea Eagle                 We will fly from Sydney               Up and away to Brisbane            So make yourself comfortable        We will fly so high above the clouds     Without the aid of any mind altering drugs                          Don’t look down !                           Trust in only me                            For I am a poet                            With the license                            A special license                            To an inspiration - [ ]                  Living your dreams - [ ]                     From that Fantasy - [ ]                     Into your true Reality - [ ]                    Fasten your safety belt - [ ]              It’s just at the joint of my wings - [ ]              Turn off all your mobile devices - [ ]           Now let the poetry begin my friends - [ ]       Write to me with your poetic inspiration - [ ]                        Kind regards Philip. - [ ] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ - [ ] November 4th 2018.
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27
Years of being **** on Taken away in a day The small things in life All fell into place A package came in the mail I got a new tattoo I booked a trip to Brisbane I get to see you The corner store didn't have The cigarettes I wanted I tried a brand they had Kind of glad I got it I made a new song On my second hand guitar It's not very good But it's my favorite so far I got the bus for a students fair The café I went to was closed They let me anyway Why? I don't know Now I'm sitting by a steady river On the outskirsts of the city center Just my perfect day and I The wind blew past and didn't shiver There's not a cloud in the sky
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Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
The Day The Wind Blew The Other Way
I was sitting on a train I didn’t have my headphones so I was listening to the announcements The woman’s voice is butter light but A little bit patronising: “If you have an Opal card, please remember to tap-off” Because what else am I going to do to get through the turnstile? I’m too short to jump it And I am not a ghost And then I start thinking of her, The woman who gave her voice to a train If she can still use it anymore If it annoys her when she hears it on her way to work If she’s changed it like an embarrassing name or Moved to a different state? And do they have different voices in Melbourne or Brisbane or Tasmania? And what about the bloke Who gave his voice to the station? “Please be advised, smoking is not permitted on the platform” Which is a ****** ‘cos I could really do with a smoke. But then again what if Train Woman and Station Man aren’t real? What if they were made by a computer program? And if so, Did someone have to give their voice to a computer? But that’s just crazy – It would mean the robots are coming and We’d all be gonskies If they ever learn to think what we don’t tell them. But they kind of already do, right? Don’t know the science of it really but I think therefore I am Someone in history says this, but they’re wrong I am therefore I think Or I am, but don’t think, but am anyway And Train Woman’s voice is here, right? It’s speaking to us, but is a thing that is intangible Still a thing? And this is why I need to remember headphones – I’ve missed my stop.
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 5:06 AM UTC
Train (of) Thoughts
I was sitting on a train I didn’t have my headphones so I was listening to the announcements The woman’s voice is butter light but A little bit patronising: “If you have an Opal card, please remember to tap-off” Because what else am I going to do to get through the turnstile? I’m too short to jump it And I am not a ghost And then I start thinking of her, The woman who gave her voice to a train If she can still use it anymore If it annoys her when she hears it on her way to work If she’s changed it like an embarrassing name or Moved to a different state? And do they have different voices in Melbourne or Brisbane or Tasmania? And what about the bloke Who gave his voice to the station? “Please be advised, smoking is not permitted on the platform” Which is a ****** ‘cos I could really do with a smoke. But then again what if Train Woman and Station Man aren’t real? What if they were made by a computer program? And if so, Did someone have to give their voice to a computer? But that’s just crazy – It would mean the robots are coming and We’d all be gonskies If they ever learn to think what we don’t tell them. But they kind of already do, right? Don’t know the science of it really but I think therefore I am Someone in history says this, but they’re wrong I am therefore I think Or I am, but don’t think, but am anyway And Train Woman’s voice is here, right? It’s speaking to us, but is a thing that is intangible Still a thing? And this is why I need to remember headphones – I’ve missed my stop.
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41
Brisbane bowling trip day 3 Today was the third day of my tenpin bowling trip in Brisbane I started the day having a late breakfast at 7-30 And after that I went back to the room till 10 Watching Frasier on tv after everybody loves Raymond After that we headed off to the bowling alley Getting ready to play bowling, it will be radical My scores were 136 and 106 and 116 And, mate, I blew those pins to kingdom come And then after that I went to the cafe at the bowling centre And bought sweet potato fries with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce And mate that was a dainty dish, fit for a king like me I bought three chocolates and one guy who was fat himself Told me if you eat too much chocolate, you will get FAT After I finished that meal, I went to the grandstand To watch Leckie and Stephen bowl And mind you they bowled fantastic I watched Shane bowl with Belinda and Paul bell That was cool After leckie and Stephen finished, our team posed for our team photo And the picture was so close to the bowling lane We were setting off the fowl lines It was fun laughing at that, yes it was After we left there, we put our bowling shirts out to get washed, so They will be ready tomorrow And after that we went to the OLD MILL for our dinner I had chicken parmigiana and I made a joke, of a chicken wearing pyjamas Ha ha ha ha, very funny And I had a pavlova for dessert And I walked home, and went inside to hang our Bowling shirts out to dry in the cupboard And watch home and away and the neighbours And the AFL footy, between port and Geelong Cats won, and I remembered Matthew Reid’s song We are Geelong the crappest team of all We are Geelong we’re always dropping the ball But the cats won, I wanted port to win😹😹😹😹😹 And now we are off to bed, goodnight At the club we were remembering all the home and away and neighbours Stars Now we are off to bed Good night😌😌😌😌😌😌
0
Oct 8, 2021
Oct 8, 2021 at 7:36 AM UTC
brisbane day 3
Brisbane bowling trip day 3 Today was the third day of my tenpin bowling trip in Brisbane I started the day having a late breakfast at 7-30 And after that I went back to the room till 10 Watching Frasier on tv after everybody loves Raymond After that we headed off to the bowling alley Getting ready to play bowling, it will be radical My scores were 136 and 106 and 116 And, mate, I blew those pins to kingdom come And then after that I went to the cafe at the bowling centre And bought sweet potato fries with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce And mate that was a dainty dish, fit for a king like me I bought three chocolates and one guy who was fat himself Told me if you eat too much chocolate, you will get FAT After I finished that meal, I went to the grandstand To watch Leckie and Stephen bowl And mind you they bowled fantastic I watched Shane bowl with Belinda and Paul bell That was cool After leckie and Stephen finished, our team posed for our team photo And the picture was so close to the bowling lane We were setting off the fowl lines It was fun laughing at that, yes it was After we left there, we put our bowling shirts out to get washed, so They will be ready tomorrow And after that we went to the OLD MILL for our dinner I had chicken parmigiana and I made a joke, of a chicken wearing pyjamas Ha ha ha ha, very funny And I had a pavlova for dessert And I walked home, and went inside to hang our Bowling shirts out to dry in the cupboard And watch home and away and the neighbours And the AFL footy, between port and Geelong Cats won, and I remembered Matthew Reid’s song We are Geelong the crappest team of all We are Geelong we’re always dropping the ball But the cats won, I wanted port to win😹😹😹😹😹 And now we are off to bed, goodnight At the club we were remembering all the home and away and neighbours Stars Now we are off to bed Good night😌😌😌😌😌😌
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