I see a flash
A sight to behold
The work of an immortal sculptor
Walking straight in elegant pride
Worth of a princess of the sun
Firmly transfixed in her twelve
Moving into the emptiness of an Invalid society
Her innocence screaming
In an unchallenged clarity

And only twelve moons
The framework of her modelling salivates
Wolves in men
Who's been exposed to the virus
Emerging from the bushland of their desires
To seek their vengeance in a fanatical hatred
And poor me the Princess
With the *** Lunacy roaming the streets
Sanity of abstinence is the greatest challenge.

Swung from poverty to adolescence
A pendulum of fates
Hunger at home for the family
And her homestead a moonscape of desolation.
The two Hundred shillings does the trick
She trades out her innocence
And virginity too- a girl's pride
And alongside the legal tender comes the virus
The minute Monster
Savoring a society of huge minds.

There is the tuberculosis
In a hospital ward
Full of undug graves and shrines unnamed
Drawn into the vacuum of her fate
Eyes wide open in dismal finality
The princess
Lie in freeze frame of death
A pyramid of events
Molded out of her last several terrible seconds
Lamentation for the society
A dull eulogy
For our girls.

Abbie hailed a yellow top cabbie

Brenda had a sister in-law named Glenda

Cate ran late on her first date

Delly ate seven bowls of lemon jelly

Edwina drove to the town of Catalina

Fran burnt her finger on the very hot frying pan

Gwen had a strong yen to go and see her aunty Jen

Hope bought her husband a towing rope

Isobel fell under the magician's spell

Joann took her mother on a holiday in a caravan

Kylie went to the dentist with her brother Wylie

Lesley liked listening to Elvis Presley

Marcia enjoyed eating a freshly baked focaccia

Nell saw a turtle coming out of his shell

Olga lived at the top end of the river Volga

Primrose had a Pinocchio nose

Queenie knitted a multicolored beanie

Ruth could never tell the whole truth

Stacey loved playing dress ups with her friend Tracey

Tilly behavior was always rather silly

Una bought a house in the suburb of Yagonna

Verity wanted to be a well known celebrity

Winifred never stopped taking about Alfred

Xena was presented with a court subpoena

Yale told her teacher a tall tale

Zealand ventured out into the bushland

Australia is the lucky country
Lucky, yes we are
Australia is the lucky country
Lucky, yes we are
The luckiest country
Compared to the Middle East
And I know Australians live in poverty
But we have beaches and footy mate
We also have events to bring the families in
To enjoy this wonderful country
Lucky, yes we are
We have loads of helpers
That look after the poor
We also have people
Who show our great bushland
To walk around and explore
Yes we are the lucky country
Compared to the Middle East
We do have our problems
Like a lot of people do
We enjoy the party people
Because we need to have fun
Yes we do oh yeah
We have great tv from our many stations
We bring what we don’t have on tv
To the radio
Because Australia is the lucky country
Lucky, yes we are
We play carols all over the country
And at the carols we collect money
To give to many charities
We go for walks and runs
And that is what we do for fun
And we march every Anzac Day
To honour Australia’s diggers
YouTube keeps the people in touch
Of this great big world
Because Australia really cares for
Other countries and that is why we are the lucky country
Lucky, yes we are
Aussie Aussie Aussie
Lucky yes oh yeah

I am dreaming of a white Christmas
I say stop, cause it's too **** hot for that
You see instead of skiing and skating on ice
We are having barbecues and swimming in the pool
And instead of Santa coming down the chimney he goes through the computer screen and uncle robbie and jim bob
And Jacob lying on the beach getting a tan and if they are dreaming of a white Christmas well stop cause in Australia
It's too **** hot for that
You see kids are riding their surfboards
On Bondi beach and santa will join us
Everyone is having fun
And robbie pulls out six pack
And said lets get out backpacks
And hike through the kangaroo island bushland
If you dream of a white Christmas
Well stop cause in Australia it's too
**** hot
You see we go off the Queensland and sere the big pineapple and then go down to Coffs Harbour to see the big banana and mum is sweating in the kitchen cooking the Christmas bird
And we go to jamberoo to slide down the waterslide
And uncle Freddie said ** ** ** look at me go
I am dreaming of a white  Christmas
I should stop cause in Australia it's too **** too ****
Too **** hot

flames
fiercely racing
through the bushland terrain
consuming all within their path
charred trees and houses bear testament
to their tirade of destruction
the landscape badly burnt
furious fire
flames

This, the thin end of the green wedge,
Suburban bushland at society's edge,
listening to party platforms,
can anyone believe such reforms?
Yes, election time in anxious Australia,
Who is to be our climate saviour?
We hear spellbinding visions,
Are these swept away by ambitions?
Insatiable appetites of giant companies,
I thought the land of Oz was for you and me.....

I remember when you first came into my life.  I had another brother … not a sister … but another brother.  That was okay though.  I was your big sister and so I could look after you.

I remember brothers who ganged up on their big sister when she was left in charge.
  
I remember hours and hours of playing board games together and riding bikes up and down the street.

I remember the day you ran away from home.  We looked and looked for hours but you were nowhere to be found.  They called the police and then everyone was looking for you.  Hours later they found you in the bushland near home.  I still don’t really know why you ran away that day but I think I know.

I remember how you were always quiet.  Shy.  You preferred people not to notice you.

I remember your paintings, the comics you wrote.  They were amazing.

I remember your suffering through illness and the terrible things it did to you.
  
I remember the day I had to admit you to hospital.  It was so difficult to do.  You  did not want to be there.

I remember hoping and praying that you would be okay.  That you would recover and become all you could become.

I remember your last visit with me.  A goodbye that I did not realise was being said.

I remember the next day.  The day they told me I would never see you again.
  
I remember your poems.  The ones you left behind … the poems so hard to read … so full of pain.

I remember the beautiful letter you wrote me.

I remember an innocent boy and the kindest young man.

I remember a child of God who never wished to hurt anyone or anything.

I remember an idealist who imagined peace for the world.

I remember your love for me.
  
I remember a beautiful soul.

I remember you.

And I will never forget you.

Endless dreaming wide brown land
Floods and droughts in cycles come
Long parched deserts they abound
Along the shoreline civilizations found
In horse and dray explorers roamed
Harsh bushland coastal open plains
Then the goldfields and coal seams
Steamers plied their river trade
Convict labour enshrined in chains
Bushrangers encased in metal mail
Laws and rules made across the sea
So many generations that set us free
Governors harsh like Macquarie
The common people did not see
On the sheep’s back we once did ride
Gone now that Australian way
Gone now our once countries pride
Again owned and at outsiders behest
Country strip mined foreign owned
Where now the old call of mateship true
Again the land owned and at outsiders behest
Country strip mined and foreign owned
Where again now the call of mateship true
Could our cultures time truly be through
Again the stain of religions from across the sea
Creeping forcing change from deep inside within
Even now words written such as these
They use our very laws to gag and choke

(If this offends anybody glad it served the purpose for which I wrote it )
(GE2014)
https://www.facebook.com/SilmarilliansPoetry

the elongated shadows of eve
                        across timbered paddocks were cast
                                              a last remnant of sunlight
                                                                ­       pierced through unto the grass

sparkling star light ensued
                          at the seventh hour of night
                                               the bushland heavens adorned
                                                            in a display of mesmeric delight

dawn's breaking sun came to the fore
                               it shone on the homestead's verandah
                                                  with dazzling beams by the score
                                                           ­         enchanting twas its extravaganza

  tis a wonder of nature
                      observing the changing moods
                                 of day to night  
                                            doth bring to the eye
                                                         such breathtaking sights

beside the slow flowing bushland creek
lay the body of a stock man who's build twas sleek
his remains were not found in eighteen ninety two
though a search for him did for days ensue

the mount he twas riding had been given a scare
by something that moved in the prickly pear
a heavy fall he took to the hardened soil
where his head bled in a torrential scarlet coil

on the sixteenth of May in nineteen eighty three
a bush walker stumbled upon the stock man's body
he found a tobacco tin in the creeks silted dirt
along with the remnants of his trousers and shirt

for years his family had waited to hear good news
that he'd been discovered within the bush land's muse
but of his passing they were told at a later date
a brown snake moving in the prickly pear sealed his fate

the hot tongues of fire
lapped at the ****** bushland

Away up the top  in Australia
Simply days drive from anywhere at all~
We were camped on the side of a river bank
Not far from a wet season water fall~
Running outa food to some extent
I assured them we were fine~
That I as camp cook had enough to last us
And tonight as usual we were gonna dine~
We were up there on a top end fishing trip
And Id been up there before~
Where the best fish were only caught
In the land that I adore~
One bloke had a friend with him
Who was a city well fed chum~
And he kept boasting how his wife could cook
As he sat swigging on the last of his ***~
I knew they were going up stream for the day
To fish and do some prospecting up the way~
And I told them tonight a real Irish stew
And he replied that sounds real good ay~
He said no way I can eat that bush tucker
I gotta have whats proper and comes from shops~
I don't eat that out back wild bush Tucker stuff
It ll never pass through my chops~
But Irish stew yes that ll do
It sounds real good ta me~
When we get back from up the track
I ll have my share you wait an see~
So they left in one direction
And I left in the other~
Hoping the thick bushland would act as
To my rifle shots a cover~
I shot a Roo and a Goanna
A Bandicoot and one wild cat~
And then I shot a large parrot
Got a young croc in the water and headed back~
A little ways from the camp
I used a fallen log as a butchers block~
And then I got this big bucket full
Of meaty bits right to the top~
The fire now lit and big cooking *** half full
I went on a wild herb search~
And when down by the river again
I got my self a pool trapped perch~
Added it as well to the stew
With bush herbs and thickened with some flour~
And I can tell in awhile it smelt so good
When they d be due back in about an hour~
Had honey Id robbed from a distant hive
So I made a patty cake or two~
With what flour I had left
Yep .... That ll surely do~
Well when they got back the aroma drifted
And they picked it up down the track~
And couldn't wait to eat the lot
And complimented the cook for the snack~
The city bloke that did all the complaining
About running out of food~
Said he was sorry that he went on a bit
And didn't mean to be at all rude~
He said Id have died if I had to eat bush Tucker
And believe me it is true~
In all my life .. including the wife
Never tasted a better Irish stew~

Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright ( 1970 )  .....2018

A raging fire,
the bushland's lost.
Caused by a match
Carelessly tossed.

The animal's escaped,
with lots of woes.
But later caught
and put in zoo's.

Lost their freedom
to my dismay.
The predator yesterday
is the prey today.

We put make-up
and put on shoes,
nothing to do but
laugh at their blues.

Who's to be blamed
not me,not you.
Just a burning match
can **** you too.

shadows now lengthen
as last streams of glinting light
ebb in the bushland

the sun's shining beams
did burnish the bushland stream
in a glossy gleam

Away up the top out in the back blocks
Simply days drive from anywhere at all~
We were camped on the side of a river bank
Not far from a wet season come water fall~
We were running out of food to some extent
I assured them all we were just fine~
That I as camp cook had enough to last us
And tonight as usual we were all going to dine~
We were way up there on a top end fishing trip
And I'd been up there a good few times before~
Where the best fish were only ever caught
In a land that I came to adore~
One bloke there had a friend with him
Who was a real city well fed chum~
And he kept boasting how his wife could cook
As he sat swigging on the last of his ***~
I knew they were going up stream for the day
To fish and do some prospecting up the way~
And I told them tonight a real Irish stew
And he replied that sounds real good mate ay~
He said no way I could eat that bush tucker
I got to have whats proper and comes from shops~
I don't eat that out back wild bush Tucker stuff
It'll never ever get pass or through my chops~
But an Irish stew yes that'll sure do
And it sounds real good to me~
When we get back from up the track
I'll have my share of that you wait an see~
So they eventually left in one direction
And I eventually left in the other~
Hoping the thick bushland would act as
To my rifle shots a cover~
I shot a Roo and a Goanna later on
A Bandicoot and soon one wild cat~
And then I shot a large wild parrot
Got a young croc in the water and headed back~
A little ways from the camp where we were
I used a fallen log as a butchers block~
And then I got this big bucket full
Of meaty bits right to the top~
The fire now lit and big cooking *** half full
I then went on a wild herb search~
And when I got down by the river again
I got my self a pool trapped perch~
Added it as well to the Irish stew
With bush herbs and thickened with some flour~
And I can tell in awhile it smelt so good
And they'd be due back in about an hour~
I had honey I'd robbed from a distant hive
So I made a patty cake or two~
With what flour I had left at the time
Yep .... That'll surely do~
Well when they got back the aroma drifted
And they picked it up coming down the track~
And couldn't wait to eat the whole lot
And complimented the cook then for the snack~
The city bloke that did all the complaining
About running out of food~
Said he was sorry that he went on a bit
And didn't mean to be at all rude~
He said I'd have died if I had to eat bush Tucker
And believe me it is true~
In all my life .. including the wife
Never tasted a better Irish stew~

Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 1970  .. now 2018

Once upon a time in the land that is down under,
There was a feral pig whose heart was set on plunder.
While wandering the outback he chanced to chance upon
A group of unwary campers and lo, their beer was gone.
The pig was feeling happy, having put away a case,
And he wandered through the bushland with a smile upon his face.
As he staggered through the wilderness he chanced upon a cow.
The poor cow was soon set upon by this drunken sow.
A battle royal then did ensue but our pig was out of luck.
The feisty bovine bested him and tossed him in the muck.

That’s where the pig was sleeping it off when found by this reporter,
Who, at first glance, had mistaken him to be a Trump supporter.

The other day I read an article about how climate scientists were recording a heat wave in Eastern Antarctica unlike anything we've seen before.  The article mentioned certain regions being 50-90 degrees hotter than usual.
Accross the world, Vladimir Putin initiates a "special military operation" wherein he invades Ukraine, and begins killing innocent civilians. The west is on eggshells as to how they should respond. The tension is thick, and the world is watching.
The Amazon burned for almost 9 months straight in 2020, 72,000 Square miles of Australian bushland was scorched by wildfires in 2020, California has seen record amounts of homes destroyed in its own wildfire seasons the past few years.
Amidst it all Harry styles drops his new hit single "as it was" and destroys spotify records. Will Smith is slapping chris rock for a woman who doesn't love him at the oscars. Betty white died, Bob Saget died, DMX died. Kimye split up. Rhianna gets pregnant.
  All of this is happening around us, the world is quite literally falling apart. And there's an image of humanity that I honestly love in my head. Which is us sitting on the edge of it all, playing our favorite songs, watching the end play out. Its beautiful to think that even as the flames lap at our toes, well probably find something to sing about.

thrumming cicadas  
sang their monotonous song
as the sun's hot rays
pounded down on the bushland's
thirsting arid patch

It is going to be rough
But who gives a crap
Sitting on the tree
Like a pile of sap
Making the world spin
Out of control
Boys play with toys
Girls play with dolls
Then a man came right up to me
And said mate why don’t come here
Sipping wine and skulling beer
That is the way of the world
Then the party dudes came
Into my house
And said it’s cool to party
More often than not
If you don’t party
You will shrivel up like a prune
Every day in the middle of June
Oh yeah goes yello sing us a song you see
Hot chocolate is tasty all over
The place, once you get your hot chocolate you add a marshmallow and sink down deep into the drink saying
Party, man
I wanna play some of that rock and roll music gotta get down and boogie as each tune plays loudly rock and roll is cool
As a kid I joined the d of e award scheme where I did meals on wheels and bushwalking through the michelago bushland
Sleeping on hard wooden floors and eating food off campfire stove and that was very cool
Cool cool very very cool
Getting down not breaking the rule moving around to avoid
Problems laughing out loud
To be heard from all of the crowd ooooooooh yeah kereoke