"greenies" poems
(Quote by Spike Milligan)
One very wise man sat and said
That, long before this world is dead
This planet’s problems won’t be solved
By reasoning which, though now evolved,
has got us, where we now do sit,
Afloat neck deep in mankind’s ****
There’s SARs, Ebola, AIDs, Bird flu
And in the woodwork, West Nile too,
Each replicating viral spat
To mutate, (at the drop of a hat),
To complicate enviro’s stew
Of global degredation’s brew.
Urban spread and over stocking
**** deforestation’s shocking,
Depletion of aquatic life
Intrinsically creating strife,
Industrial pollution’s goo
Ozone depletion... ALL FOR YOU!
*Environmental degradation
Means the world’s a weaker place,
Susceptible to malady
Wide spread across the human race.
Those animals in corn fed stalls
Who never get to see the sun
Or graze green grass where honey bees
Are vanquished by varroha’s fun.
Too late to save the Hector’s dolphin
Conservation’s lost it’s tools,
Rastafarian hootchie smokers,
Save the whales to **** the fools.
Governments sell the carbon credits
Everybody smells a rat
Restorations for the birds
And social conscience creamed the cat.
****** greenies own the airwaves
No one gives a flying ****
That good artesian water’s poisoned
By good farmer’s leached out muck.
CO2 in global warming
Sings it’s song of fast decline
Glacial retreat a-roaring
Bass relief in blood *****
I guess the little children’s future
Most depends on lady luck,
Humankind in mass denial
Most don’t give a flying ****
Marshalg
In retreat to Taranaki’s green haven in the gales of the equinox.
21 September 2011
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 2:09 AM UTC
(Quote by Spike Milligan)
One very wise man sat and said
That, long before this world is dead
This planet’s problems won’t be solved
By reasoning which, though now evolved,
has got us, where we now do sit,
Afloat neck deep in mankind’s ****
There’s SARs, Ebola, AIDs, Bird flu
And in the woodwork, West Nile too,
Each replicating viral spat
To mutate, (at the drop of a hat),
To complicate enviro’s stew
Of global degredation’s brew.
Urban spread and over stocking
**** deforestation’s shocking,
Depletion of aquatic life
Intrinsically creating strife,
Industrial pollution’s goo
Ozone depletion... ALL FOR YOU!
Environmental degradation
Means the world’s a weaker place,
Susceptible to malady
Wide spread across the human race.
Those animals in corn fed stalls
Who never get to see the sun
Or graze green grass where honey bees
Are vanquished by varroha’s fun.
Too late to save the Hector’s dolphin
Conservation’s lost it’s tools,
Rastafarian hootchie smokers,
Save the whales to **** the fools.
Governments sell the carbon credits
Everybody smells a rat
Restorations for the birds
And social conscience creamed the cat.
****** greenies own the airwaves
No one gives a flying ****
That good artesian water’s poisoned
By good farmer’s leached out muck.
CO2 in global warming
Sings it’s song of fast decline
Glacial retreat a-roaring
Bass relief in blood *****
I guess the little children’s future
Most depends on lady luck,
Humankind in mass denial
Most don’t give a flying ****
Marshalg
In retreat to Taranaki’s green haven in the gales of the equinox.
21 September 2011
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 3:14 AM UTC
On the first day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: a bowl full of doggy food.
On the second day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: two sloppy kisses and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the third day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: nine ****** markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: ten tails a-waggin', nine ****** markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine ****** markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: twelve stuffed buddies, eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine ****** markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
Take my hand stranger,
for thy hand fits perfectly in mine
for there is no reason to be insecure
The lines of our hands cross each other, floating rivers meeting, like an estuary, passionately touching, but never perfectly fitting (as real love should be)
Our nails glancing to each other; the same happens when your blue eyes meet my greenies
Our skins stunning each other, blushing, softening the insecurities they both feel
Our joints silly wrestling with each other; O the subtle touch of them
Take my hand stranger,
for thy hand fits perfectly in mine
for there is no reason to be insecure
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
the way you look over your glasses
as you kick those journos’ arses
I love your hairy nostrils and your square double chin
but most of all I love the way you know everythin’
not a skerrick of doubt, any subject, any time
you can hold forth. you’re ready to chime
Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you don’t need no research. no need to hold back
here is your wisdom, you’re on the attack
here is the gospel according to Tuckey
you front them with macho, you front them so plucky
you tell them the answers straight from the heart
they look like stunned mullets as you take them apart
Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you run rings round those greenies, those tree hugging ****
with their talk about warming, their climate change glum
I trust you Wilson, you know better than them
you can leave them all gobstruck with a home spun gem
Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you can spot a terrorist at a hundred paces
the ones with the beards and the slightly dark faces
we don’t want them here taking our jobs and houses
with their Qurans and burqas and baggy white trousers
Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you show us what it means to be Australian
some call you redneck, some say you’re not cool
but you are our bedrock, you are no fool
you are the brown substance of this wide, sunburnt land
and that’s why, Wilson Tuckey, I really, really, really love you man.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 5:11 AM UTC
This is dreaming and I know it is
Brushing against the hips of acceptance
I want to be a part of the family again
You can't sway my opinions at all
Why pretend to be afraid of me anyway
I guess bringing it up is a serious faux pas
You never want to talk about it anymore
Not since you let me go because of it
You just want to know if I have a job yet
Or some other insipid parental concerns
Am I going to settle down somewhere
Do I have someone who can help me
Is Monty the Dog eating Greenies
And am I taking my anxiety pills
Truth is, I was thinking about those
Taking them all at once the other day
I doubt that would have helped anxiety
But it would have gotten rid of the pain
Of being branded a pariah by nature
Can I please be your daughter again
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC