Wednesday, 30 April 2014

April 30: Three days in a leaky boat ...

As I sit here at the table, where we joust with fact and fable
My opponent makes his case out to the jury
As I listen to his words, I’m filled with dread and I’m disturbed
At times my emotions turn to fury

He’s been to this land before; he’s a mercenary whore
He came here just two short years ago
He was a crewman on a boat, paid to keep the thing afloat
Until an island called Australia it did show

But he says that he was tricked, when on the boat he skipped
Says he was drunk and he was tired at the time
So he went to sleep for hours, and did not exercise his powers
As he engaged in all those things that made the crime

He says he started in Jakarta, and went drinking with a partner
And in the very early hours he went onboard
The boat that reached Australia, but his voyage was a failure
When apprehended by the Navy he was floored

The accused says he was surprised, when he opened up his eyes
And found himself at sea, no land in sight
Surrounded by the refugees in the dark and threatening seas
He tells you that he was in a state of fright

I say you should reject it, and your mind not be deflected
By the lies that just have fallen from his mouth
He wants his freedom to maintain, and to him this is a game
As he navigated truly to the south

Do not be deceived, this man should not be believed
His story is a fiction in full flight
He got paid a heap of money; would have made his life so
But instead he should be in the cells tonight

Tuesday, 29 April 2014

April 29: The sun disappeared ...

A partial eclipse, we both saw it last night
The sun it was obscured, there was a dimming of light
Then the sun came back and the sky again was bright
And we didn’t look up so we still have our sight

“How did it happen?” the little one said
“How can I see it if I can’t turn my head?”
“Why doesn’t the moon just burn up instead?”
So many questions, they filled me with dread

“Well little one, what happened today
Was the sun moved around, and the moon got in its way
And it blocked out a bit before the sun moved away”
And the sky it was bright for the rest of the day

“I think understand”, the little one did reply
“So many things happen up there in the sky
As the sun and the moon they slowly pass by
But the never crash, if they did would we die?”

Her question it stumped me, the answer unknown
So I logged into Google on my trusty iPhone
The search terms I entered, and the answer was shown
“Little one you breathe easy, we're safe here it’s known”

She gave me a smile that would melt a man’s heart
As I turned on my heel and I went to depart
“Grandad she said, you are so very smart”
“Tell that to your Grandma”, I quietly remarked

Monday, 28 April 2014

April 28: My ride is in peril ...

We were all primed up for a ride way out west, to a place upon the Murray called Echuca
I was busting for a ride upon my joy and pride, shooting through the bends like a bazooka
But alas I’m stuck in Court, my best efforts came to naught, to get this case dusted by midweek
Four times longer than expected, my pleas for speed rejected, to get it done by Friday I did seek

So Friday we’ll depart, and Roxy will stay parked, and the BatCab will provide our transportation
But if I’m still in court on Monday, we’ll be heading home on Sunday, and I won’t be very happy with my station
This need to earn more money, is not very bloody funny, it’s getting in the way of all my pleasures
If I can’t get on my bike, and do the other things I like, I will have to take some very drastic measures

Sunday, 27 April 2014

April 27: Phryne Fisher's day out ...

At Parramatta’s Parliament House, we saw a display so very grouse
Phryne Fisher’s 1920’s costumes on display
The sassy investigator, who’s an effective interrogator
She solves a weekly murder putting criminals away

So many fantastic dresses, each one cleverly expresses
Phryne’s femininity that so many men desire
Lovers she’s had a few, but not anyone will do
But Detective Robinson really lights her fire

As she moves around her city, looking sexy and so pretty
Phryne mingles with types of ill repute
But she manages to fill the space, with ease and with grace
As she brings and end to every dispute

I took some shots so you could see, as if you were there with me
The range of costumes Phryne wore
Such magnificent display, of clothes you won’t see every day
And things you just can’t purchase any more

Saturday, 26 April 2014

April 26: Off to the pub for dinner ...

We’re off to the pub for a beer and some grub
And to watch the footy on the tele
I’m thinking right now just how lucky we are
That we can put food in our belly

While I wait for the bride, I watch the news on TV
Murder, stabbings, people drowning
All over the state there’s bad news to be heard
No wonder the new reader is frowning

But we’re both back at home, dinner was great
Though I waited in line for an hour
To order our meal so we’d have what we wanted
We sat right next to a bridal shower

We called it a night after dessert
The crème brule was the best
The schooners were crisp, the red wine was a treat
The Blue Gum has just passed the test

Friday, 25 April 2014

April 25: Anzac Day ...

April twenty-five, for those of us alive, is the day we pay our tributes to the dead
For our heroes in the fight, about whom I now do write, on this day they faced suffering and dread
Their plans they went awry, they met death from way up high, but their sacrifice and courage never flinched
They met their fate with pure conviction, but suffered the infliction of a beating that’s not been seen before or since

All over this great land, we pay tribute to the stand our men and boys made so far away
Husbands, sons and brothers, and so very many others, marched up from the beaches to the fray
At Gallipoli and in France, so many took a stance, and we reflect upon the bravery they displayed
And in conflict much more recent, we’ve lost men and women decent, but the battles they continue to this day

We continue to recall, the sacrifice of those who took the fall, but for those who returned we also pray
Injured in body and in mind, their lives were left behind, in a place they’d never heard of ‘til that day
Every year we meet at dawn to think of lives foregone, in memory of the bravery and pain
Next year a hundred years, we’ll be holding back the tears, as we remember all our heroes once again

Thursday, 24 April 2014

April 24: Yep, another people smuggler ...

I marched myself into the court, full of drive and purpose
My single most important task, send his evidence to the circus
My cross-examination is precisely planned, setting up the trap
Into which he soon would fall, 'cause his answers are just crap

I’d waded through his interview, my size nines tied so tight
Not every answer was a lie, but he’d need a clever fight
So many contradictions, my head is numbed with anticipation
Forget him for a moment, just watch this annihilation

His evidence it will crumble, his story I'll demolish
With questions of precision, wordsmithing with extra polish
Don’t take me on you liar, you’ll finish in second place
And your lies and bullshit story, I’ll throw back in your face

So then, Mr. Liar Pants, you say you were deceived
By some bloke who told just you, that he wanted you to leave
Your little town on the coast, ocean fishing with him braving
By the time that you leave that witness box, it’s fishing you’ll be craving

You say he didn’t tell you that you’d be moving these poor folk
Down to our southern isle, gee you must have had a stroke
When truth it was revealed to you, that you were one of the two
Who manned the boat, and steered it south, both members of the crew

He got you drunk, that’s what you say, is that still your pretence 
Give me a break, is that the best you’ve got, it’s a pretty poor defence
You said he’d pay three million rupiah, for two days simple work
Look to your right, the jury box, do you think they look like jerks

He flew you to Jakarta, a place for you to fish
Another two years wages gone, that can’t have been his wish
Do you have some strange ability, do you call and fish they come
Is that just why he wanted you, are you fishing's number one

I think you’re telling porkies, actually I’ll go one more than that
I think you are a liar, I’ll give it to you flat
You came here two short years ago, crewed other's to Australia
You thought you had your facts all straight, but your story was a failure

Our Navy got you once again, so you told them a false name
Said that you were someone else, but they saw right through that game
Mandatory sentencing, it’s five years inside for you
Dry your eyes princess, you had options you could choose

It comes as no surprise to me, that you did it for the money
You might reasonably have expected, that your life would be sunny
Three million rupiah, that might set you up for life
You’d never have to fish again, buy a boat and get a wife

Clearly mate you did not learn, when given your first caution
That if you come this way again, prison food you’d get a portion
We didn’t prosecute you last time, but you tested our resolve
Five years jail should make the point, our problem it is solved

Wednesday, 23 April 2014

April 23: A right Royal burden ...

The Royals arrived on our shores for a tour
Stayed for a week, maybe two, maybe more
They jetted around and took in the sights
Long busy days, gala dinners each night

Must make conversation sixteen hours a day
Because somebody somewhere has something to say
Engaging in dialogue with all manner of people
At a pre-school, a hospital, or a church with a steeple

Sounds bloody awful if the truth must be known
He can’t duck down the pub, or Twitter his phone
When he goes to the footy, can’t drink too many beers
He leaves that to Harry, whose nights oft end in tears

The lot of a Prince is not a path easy trod
Followed around by a bodyguard squad
Everywhere William turns there is somebody there
And little Prince George is stuck in day care

Being second in line to be King must be tough
Rich, famous and handsome, is it really enough
But he made a good choice in who he picked for a mate
A bloody good-looking bombshell named Kate

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

April 22: I only had a few ... honest ...

Young Brett Stewart he had a few beers, well perhaps a few more than a few
At ten the next day he blew in the bag, and was over by point zero two
“I had a few drinks with my mates at the Steyne, on Sunday, after the game
An error of judgment for which I’m contrite, but I know that I am to blame"

Personally, I think he’s playing it down, understating the rate of his drinking
“I had a few drinks” is not quite the truth, we are but fools he is thinking
You don’t wake up stonkered after five or six, I reckon he emptied many more
When he woke he’d have known he went to bed late, when he opened his car door

Don’t treat us like fools Mr. Stewart, please don’t, we’ve felt how you felt yesterday
You took a gamble and went out in your car, you got caught and now you must pay
Don’t tell us lies just to cover your tracks, you went on a bender we know
If you had a few drinks, and then went to bed, you would blown pretty close to zero

Monday, 21 April 2014

April 21: There's a flying fox in our back room ...

There’s a flying fox in our back room
Hanging on a dryer
Got monstered by a powerful Owl
That was a better flyer

It grabbed it with its talons
And took it from the sky
Ripped holes in its fragile wings
Then left it there to die

A member of the public
Called the wildlife phone
And a rescuer was dispatched
To bring the bat back home

It a very short few hours
The bat it comes to learn
That the hand it feels is helping
And it should have no concern

After weeks in rehabilitation
Many are set free
But some they will get euthanised
And freedom never see

But time goes on and injuries heal
Their health returns to good
And those who live they are released
To go back where they should

Sunday, 20 April 2014

April 20: Fire in the sky ...

I sat out on my balcony and watched a rainbow flood the sky
As the sun slides down the western wall, I'm lamenting its goodbye
The pinks, the blues, the tints, the hues, a sight simply awe inspiring
The reds flew off the trees like a thousand cannons firing

As quickly as those colours met, they blended into black
The big red disc it soon dissolves, the moon was coming back
Colours like you’ve never seen, a pageant of pink and blue
A painters palette in the sky, no more could nature do

Saturday, 19 April 2014

April 19: Big arse, no class, no elegance ...

We went off to the Show today, to see what was around
Saw lots of very special things, and different sights we found
But something we saw a lot of, something that was too much
What I’d like to tell you ladies, is you are so very out of touch

I don’t want to see your bra strap, as it spans across your back
Did you really think a backless top would look any good with that
It really looks just awful; and it stands out like a light
I’m telling it to you sister, it looks a bloody fright

I’m thinking that your denim jeans, might be one size too small
And the muffin top you’re showing off does nothing to enthrall
What is it that you want to say, by displaying all that blubber
I may not be too thin myself, but you look like a scrubber

So you thought you’d wear a G-string, it's your choice of course
But I don’t want to see it, it's not a look that I endorse
As it sits above your tracky dacks, on display for one and all
Do us all a favour darlin’, and your cottontails reinstall

And that tattoo on your shoulder blade, what’s the go with that
Did you really want a dragon, forever emblazoned on your back
That tramp stamp is quite awful too, why is it penned in Greek
And why is it written upside down, I bet you think it’s chic

And last of all my little lass, what is it with the rings
You ears, your nose, and in your lips, and many other things
It must have been quite painful, to put them in your face
But not quite as annoying in that other tender place

Big arse, no class, no elegance, no dignity, no style
Many of those that I saw would make you run a mile
Now I ain’t no oil painting, nor am I the perfect male
But some of you I saw today, your outfits are a major fail

Friday, 18 April 2014

April 18: One more rhyme ...

I wish I had a longer rhyme, to give to you tonight
I’ve had a long week doing crime, exposing those who fight
Against our laws to come ashore without a passport or a visa
While putting on a better face than that chick named Mona Lisa

So this is it my learned friends, my rhyme tonight is short
My imagination I tell you now, sometimes is awful taut
If I cannot write something new, I have to make a choice
Is what I say just bollocks, or do I just leave it to my voice

My rhyme's not always perfect, my judgment's not always right
But I can always close my eyes, and sleep well every night
I do not have a worry about how I write my stuff
But writing a brand new rhyme each night, is getting mighty tough

Thursday, 17 April 2014

April 17: Home, home on the Grange ...

In two thousand and eleven, they floated to the top
When at the state election, they gave the Labor mob the chop
Baz became the premier, a job he said he'd never take
But the offer of the boss’s office, was the icing on the cake

To celebrate, his mate Nick, he bought him some fine wine
Spent a bloody motza on some Grange from fifty-nine
Said he left it on the balcony, what the heck was he thinking
Three thousand bucks left at the door, had the man been drinking

Flash forward three years later, and ICACs on the hunt
For dishonest public figures to whom they can give the punt
Why did Nick retain a thank you card, from a day so long ago
Was it so that he could later use it in a political puppet show

Think of this and pause a bit, does it really make much sense
That Nick bought a very private gift at the company’s expense
And filed away the thank you note that Barry wrote soon after
Nick’s got a solid reputation as a gangster and a grafter

Did he keep it just to use it to bring his mate some grief
When Baz could not remember in his evidence in chief
The Premier he just told the truth, but the note did not revive
His memory of sipping Grange, and sadly, Baz did not survive

Wednesday, 16 April 2014

April 16: The bride comes to the pub ...

I was standing at the local bar when in walked the lady wife
So I brushed the chick I was talking to in an attempt to save her life
I reckon she was under thirty, and it would only start a blue
If my bride she saw her flirting, with her man of fifty-two

I stepped away, picked up my beer, gazed at the TV screen
Tried to watch the footy, but right through my guise she’d seen
“What the heck are you playin’ at, you silly drunken fool
You told me you were comin’ here to have a game of pool”

“It’s okay Bev”, I blurted out, in my finest John Wayne voice
“I’ve just been watchin’ footy, and chattin’ here with Joyce”
“She’s a footy lover, baby, she loves it just like you”
“Step aside you idiot, hey Joyce, let’s have a blue”

The wife she marched right up to Joyce and got squarely in her face
Joyce held her ground, and stared right back, not a single backward pace
“What do you think you’re doing, struttin’ with my man?
I’ve a bloody mind to grab your bits, and stuff 'em in a can”

Bev grabbed her hair and pulled her down, poor Joyce she hit the floor
The boys they grabbed their beers and fled, I was headed for the door
Soon Joyce she ran out of the bar, shrieking as she fled
The wife she chuckled as she watched, then she whacked me in the head

“Get your lazy drunken arse back home this very minute
I’ve got a bathtub full of shit back home, and you my boy are in it”
I picked myself up from the floor, I grimaced through the pain
Another shit hot Friday night, gee I'm glad I came

If it isn't Joyce it could be Shirl, or it could be young Natash
Bev the bride she isn't fussy, about which tart she gets to bash
A good pub blue after a long days work is Bev's most perfect day
Me, I don't mind, 'cause I know the truth, for Bev this is foreplay

We'll wander home and have a blue, she'll give my ears a bash
She'll open up the oven and throw my dinner to the trash
Then we'll make up and have a kiss, some comfort we shall seek
But you can bet your very last VB, we'll be back again next week

Tuesday, 15 April 2014

April 15: This awful autumn weather ...

It’s wet, it’s cold, it’s horrible, another awful autumn day
I wish the rain would disappear and the sunshine make its way
Into the sky and shine on me, as my life I transit through
The constant saturation does not help me do what I must do

Umbrella’s up, but my mood is down, as I go to be the Crown
In my wig and my jabot, the rain falls on my gown
Is there not a tunnel here that I can use to make my way
So this bloody awful autumn weather does not completely screw my day

First it stops and then it starts, and then it rains some more
My wig’s a mess, I’m sure it smells like a soggy Labrador
I wander off to Court 2.4 ready for another session
Of fiery cross-examination, where I’ll teach this crook a lesson

I end my day, I’m on a high, but can I get back to my room
Without fear of being washed away, the sky is a painted gloom
Tomorrow is another day, perhaps I should build an ark
Or perhaps just wear my wellies, and go water skiing in the park

Monday, 14 April 2014

April 14: Cough, splutter, sniff ...

I’m reaching my limit, I’m going to go off
If just one more person sits behind me and coughs
I get on the train and take up my seat
Coughing and wheezing, their germs they excrete

Would you please just stop sniffing, do you not own a tissue
It may not bother you but I’ll soon make it an issue
And will you cover your mouth if you really must sneeze
Do you know how much filth is contained in that breeze

Please go to the chemist and purchase some drugs
That will give you a hand to get rid of those bugs
Or you could stay at home and save us all from your ills
I really don’t fancy another fortnight on pills

What is it with people who must get on my train
Do they not see that their germs are causing me pain
I’m sick of their antics, if you'll forgive my pun
But getting the flu is not my idea of fun

Sunday, 13 April 2014

April 13: Two times a smuggler ...

Tomorrow we should get a start, but the Judge has ripped my case apart
The accused knows his way here by heart, but I cannot tell the jury
He came here just two years ago, ninety passengers he did have in tow
He pleaded guilty and to jail did go, you cannot imagine my flat fury

Too prejudicial the Judge did say, they will convict if that way you play
You need to find another way, to prove he knew where he was going
Two different stories he has told, to different people before he was paroled
Of how the came here in the cold, and destination he was knowing

I think the Judge has got it wrong, I am not happy but I go along
Locked in jail he does belong, ‘cause it’s twice he’s been a smuggler
But I am not worried, our case is strong, he’ll be in a cell before too long
Even though it will prolong, of the facts I am a juggler