Thursday, 31 July 2014

July 31: I just don't understand ...

I said to the man I just don’t understand, why does it happen this way
He looked in my eye, and said “neither do I, I really don’t know what to say”
How can I explain, that we can all feel your pain, and words they do little to heal
Keep your head high, the bad times will pass by, but I have no idea how you feel

The words written above, are oft said with love, but to what event is referred
The death of a child, or of cancer gone wild, neither one is to be preferred
Unless exposed to the hurt, we cannot be alert, to the pain others feel in their grief
While their feelings are bare, let them know that you care, and do your best to provide some relief

Wednesday, 30 July 2014

July 30: Palmer United ... not your usual footy team ...

Clive Frederick Palmer is a minerals farmer, got his wealth from deep in our earth
His fortune is vast, and some are just aghast, at the sizeable worth of his girth
Formed his own party, with Lazarus the hearty, and a bird from Tassie named Jaqui
Who on a radio show, had a good go, made comments several and tacky

“I want a well-endowed man, with cash in his hand, who can give me a good time don’t you know
It’s not what’s in his brain that I want to obtain, it’s what the man's got down below
He need not even talk, I just want to gawk, as long as he’s got what I need”
She need not look too far, and though it might sound bizarre, maybe Clive could be her next steed

Glenn he was a goer, the country's best front rower, the best that the Raiders discovered
In the senate he does sit, contributing a bit, but I don’t think he’s got politics really covered
In the Senate he’s the leader, the chief PUP pleader, soon we will all know of his talk
Can “the brick with eyes” speak, what will come from his beak, and really, can he walk the walk

But Clive he’s just a card, and he’ll need to work so hard, though he is holding now the balance of power
And so much flak he will get, but he will not fret, as he looks down from his ivory tower
Should we give him a shot, he’s said such a bloody lot, about how wants this place run
But you cannot forget, it’s a pretty good bet, that he’s just doing all this for some fun

So there's three in his stable, I've taken aim in this fable, who say they are working for good
That's all very nice, but their task is a vice, are they doing as much as they should
Clive he can be funny, he don't need the money, the pay for him is just cream
But with Jacqui and Glen, one chick and two men, this is not your usual footballing team

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

July 29: The best block of chocolate ...

Just take a block of chocolate
One that’s six by four
With twenty-four separate blocks
Count again, there ain't no more

You cut across the fourth row up
Diagonally, from bottom to top
Then slice the left row from the piece
And then the top square you should chop

Take the slice that from one you took
And shift it to the right
Then move the larger piece to the left
And match them up real tight

Put the one square in your mouth
And savour its fine taste
And if you follow this fine plan
Not one piece you’ll waste

You should be left with twenty three
Cause you’ve taken one away
But when you put it back again
And count, what do you say

How can this be you ask yourself
If you take one away, no more
There really should be twenty three
But in fact, there’s still twenty-four

Monday, 28 July 2014

July 28: A Turkish shop in Hornsby ...

There was a Turkish shop in Hornsby
Just trying to make a buck
But they couldn't fill the seating
They just weren’t having any luck
So a master plan they did ignite
If money they could not earn
They’d fabricate a large explosion
And leave the place to burn

They set up some insurance
And bought some cylinders of gas
It would not be a pretty sight
But as an accident it should pass
They planning wasn’t perfect
In fact it was marginally better than poor
When the gas went up and the fire began
He wasn’t even out the door

A black long-sleeved hoodie
Was worn by the bloke with the match
And when the thing exploded
His hoodie on fire did catch
His face was dark and badly marked
To match the outline of the hood
And when he looked at himself in the mirror
He thought, “this isn’t good”

It took the cops less than a moment
To see through their master plan
They set up some surveillance
And targeted their man
Their phones gave up their innocence
The girls rolled, their days were spent
Retracing all their movements
And then off to jail they went

Sunday, 27 July 2014

July 27: Another day, another dollar ...

Another day, another dollar, whatever it is, less tax
One day soon when I’m not white collar, I’ll make some time to relax
Off to the beach, on the bike, in the car, it really doesn’t matter much to me
As long as I have some time with my girl, I’ll be happy as a fishy in the sea

I’ve worked for a time, combating crime, from the table up the front of the court
Sometimes you know, it doesnt go with the flow, and your trial you will have to abort
But on other occasions, I am just so amazin’, I can take evidence just like a champ
On other days however, my words are not so clever, and my questions I have to revamp

My witness he regressed, and I am not impressed, he’s changed what he said to police
If the jury cannot see that he’s lying to me, these criminals might soon be released
And that is not so good, as there’s one thing that should, be in little doubt overall
That these two should go, straight down below, and on their sword they should fall

The jury they listen as I shine until it glistens, the evidence of the accused
As they sit in the box and try to detox, the conduct and people abused
But the injuries show just how far they will go, for some fun and amusement at night
As they target the week, and its the loners they seek, anyone who will not put up a fight

But I go on with my task, and all that I do ask, is that you listen to what they will say
The sooner it’s done, then I can move right on, and the bad guys will be put away
For all of their talk, they sure ain’t going to walk, their fate it is all over and done
They are guilty we know, and to gaol they must go, and no longer can they bask in the sun

Saturday, 26 July 2014

July 26: The eagle has landed ...

I was riding my Wing, that black shiny thing, had the better half sat on the back
When out of the sky, from up bloody high, something hit with a hell of a whack
T’was an eagle you know, flying too bloody low, and it smacked me right in the face
Left with a bloodied up nose, pretty lucky I s’pose, it wasn’t an emu sharing my space

But I’m a trooper for sure, so I sat and I swore, and slowed to a speed more serene
I jumped off the bike, and went for a hike, but that bird was nowhere to be seen
Must have been pretty okay, so I went on my way, I wasn’t too bad, pretty healthy
I did what all bikers do, I'm a pretty good view, so I whipped off a bloody fine selfie

Friday, 25 July 2014

July 25: Bad things happen when good people sit in silence ...

Bad things happen when good people sit in silence
When nobody willing steps up to the plate
And those of us who think that peace is found in violence
Do not take the time to think about their fate

When those who know wrong from right just sit and take no action
Intimidated by those who want to harm and kill
When the weak who follow blindly, fall in with that faction
And then harm and killing becomes their only thrill

When nothing is ever done about bullying and fighting
If no-one meets the bully at the door
Then more violence results, fear and terror soon igniting
And the good in us is left to mop the floor

It takes courage and conviction to enforce right before the haters
To stand up strong and not be taunted by their threats
And what history records, will not be of the demonstrators
But those who stood unmoved despite the debts

Will they ever stop to think of the consequences of their decisions
Do they ever sit and contemplate their loss
Do they wake up in the night and think of the absolute derision
Have they the first idea of the line that they have crossed

Thursday, 24 July 2014

July 24: Malaysia Airlines, deja vu all over again ...

On a cloudy afternoon in a place so far away
An aeroplane slips smoothly across the sky
But for those inside it's just another day
Not knowing that in just moments they will die

A rocket launcher aims and fires, its deadly package flying
Directed at a target that’s not a threat
The end result a tragedy, three hundred people dying
It’s something that the world will not forget

So cruel, so harsh, so senseless, caught in someone else’s war
All those innocents just taken, I ask you all, what for
There is nought to be won by killing, have we not learned that by now
As I sit in loss and condemnation, there’s a furrow in my brow

And regret it as I do so much, there is more to this sad tale
As villains loot with impunity from the site
Separatists they call them, for humanity a fail
As the sun goes down and they go back to the night

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

July 23: My ode to Paul Kelly ...

I’m watching Paul Kelly, he’s singing on the tele
I would die to write songs just like him
His lyrics and tunes don’t come from silvery spoons
And his music branches out on a limb

His music's his story of life, of hardship and love
The moods of his tales is like two hands in one glove
They all fit so perfect, his words are simply so fine
And I wish that his efforts were something like mine

So many great hits, he’s just a legend you know
And from little things, big things he makes grow
And how can a clock on a silo show eleven degrees
His words are a story to him, that no-one else sees

And while I work at this keyboard, I’m in awe of this man
Who quite out of nowhere, became the star of this land
We want he pens songs forever, and that his music won’t die
His deeper water it moves me, and most times I cry

One day he will stop writing, and our loss it will be
Australia’s rock poet, it’s apparent to me
So thank you Paul Kelly, for giving us what you own
And where am I going next, I’ll be going alone

Tuesday, 22 July 2014

July 22: The day I lost my iPad ...

I ventured to the shopping mall the other afternoon
Saw kids with painted faces, carrying colourful balloons
We walked and shopped all day long, so we stopped to rest our feet
But when I got back to my home, I’d left my iPad on the seat

My new and favourite iPad, it had really disappeared
Would my identity be stolen, that was most what I feared
Had I locked the screen out when I last had checked my mail
Would the finder clean me out, was this my one big fail

I rocked into the cop shop and told him all about my loss
He looked pretty old and gnarly, I knew he didn’t give a toss
I could see his mind tick over, he thought, you won’t see that again
A thousand bucks up in smoke, back to paper and a pen

I raced back to my desktop and logged in to Find my Phone
It wasn’t in the list I had, was it out there all alone
Had I set it properly, I’d only owned if for a week
How the hell could I find it if did not know were to seek

My almost new and unused iPad, it had truly disappeared
Would my bank account be zeroed, that was what I feared
Had I taken good precautions, had I locked the thing up tight
I just could not remember, so I had an awful night

Now I’ve altered all my passwords, and now they’re all the same
Yeah, I know, I know, another rule I have broken once again
But at least I now have changed them, and that was just the start
What of my Optus wireless Internet, would they now take that apart

Hang on, I got a phone call, my iPad has been found
And an honest finder gave it back, my funds are safe and sound
I just could not believe it, and now my faith has been restored
I thought it was gone forever, and my thanks I did outpour

My bestest favourite iPad, has come back home to me
I thought our lives had parted, never again it would I see
I’ve now taken good precautions, and I’ve locked the thing up tight
Never will I leave it stranded, and it will never leave my sight

The moral of this story, if there is one, could be this
Don’t ever take your iPad when you’re in retailing bliss
Leave it somewhere where it makes you feel peaceful and real glad
But whatever else you choose to do, please turn on Find my iPad

Monday, 21 July 2014

July 21: The view from Milson's Point ...

I’m sitting here, it’s cold, it’s dark, but the view is quite surreal
I’m seated in an outdoor restaurant, and against the cold I steel
This view it is majestic, but no mountains can I see
I’m staring at a traffic jam, but no one can see me

I’m tucked away at Milsons Point, I see the cars approach the bridge
And buses take the roundabout, I bet it’s warmer in the fridge
The trains roll by, up, overhead, and so silently do they slide
Distributing the masses home, like the gentlest receding tide

I could stare at this for hours, there’s something quite serene
About the movement of a city, that I can see but not be seen
A palm tree shades the roundabout, beneath the overpass
As people go about their business, at a tempo unnaturally fast

I’ll sit here for a little longer, as I take in all the sights
As the sound of a garbage truck unloading, it interrupts the night
But it’s gone and the simple drone returns, the cars, buses and the trains
And although it might be dark and cold, at least there is no rain

Sunday, 20 July 2014

July 20: My Harley's just for show ...

I bought myself a motorbike, a HOG I thinks it was
I don’t know why I bought it, well perhaps … well just because
Because people they all stare at me, as I roll past them on the road
And my HOG it makes so much noise, they think she might explode

I got myself some leathers, they're hot and heavy but look okay
And I found a cutoff jean-jacket, that had seen a better day
My girl she sewed on patches, see I’m a rebel through and through
And I love it when you stare at me, but I don’t know why you do

Is it because I look like Brandon, as my Harley powers by
With my denim jeans and shining chrome, reflecting the blue sky
Or is it because the noise attracts them, as slowly past I go
Inside I am just gleaming, cause my Harley’s out on show

I set out for a long day ride, the wind blowing through my hair
Well that’s what would be happening, if my helmet wasn’t there
My face gets stung by bugs and stones, but my helmet it looks so cool
And I cannot wear a full face lid, and risk looking like a fool

I got pulled up on the freeway, the Highway Patrol had a good laugh
When after I got my ticket, my HOG she would not start
I had to call my sister, to come and get me and my ride
It really was so embarrassing, and I was cringing deep inside

Then I had to get insurance, but I could not afford to pay
So I only ride my Harley for an hour each Saturday
It really is depressing, there's so many places I can’t go
But it’s just the sad reality, my Harley’s just for show

Saturday, 19 July 2014

July 19: A double ton, now that was fun ...

A double ton, now that was fun, I think I will go on
Penning lines that to each are linked, by ideas soon forgone
That turn to prose, goodness knows, from where the ideas rise
But it doesn’t really matter, as they appear before your eyes

I told you last in April, I’d be back here with more prose
Not always easy or straight forward, but it keeps me on my toes
Still at the crease, I almost walked, from a no-ball I got caught
I began to walk, there soon was talk, so I returned without a thought

So two hundred not, I thank you all, the triple’s now in sight
As I keep at it with the rhythm, and rhymes once every night
I’ve pulled them through the covers, and flicked them of my hip
Drove with class right through mid off, though oft’ I bite my lip

Like the times I write of criminals, I can’t always tell the awful truth
Although it’s mostly out it public, there’s some that’s just uncouth
But I got some news on Friday, that to your face will bring a sheen
That people smuggling moneyman, he’ll be in jail til late eighteen

So yes, I’ll keep on writing, lines of rhythm and of rhyme
I have to say “with rhythm” first, cause a rhyme for that can’t find
One hundred and sixty odd to go, it sounds like quite a lot
But I’ve written forty more already, so I’ll give it a great shot

But I need more inspiration, more themes and more ideas
Of life and love and losing, of triumphs and of fears
That I can turn into one-liners, into prose for you to read
Cause until I get to three six four, I cannot dream I might succeed

Friday, 18 July 2014

July 18: I rode the Wing to Norah Head ...

I rode the Wing to Norah Head, this Christmas in July
The Valk stayed dry and in the shed, only one bike could I ride
The weather it was changing, it was windy and it was cold
But it always rains at Norah Head, and there’s a story to be told

We gathered in the kitchen, for burgers and some beers
The bride she turned up in a chair, but that didn’t stop the cheers
Some red, some scotch, some chardonnay, some sipped on Kentucky,
Still no rain, how good was his, were we going to be so lucky

Not as many here as there was last year, maybe it was the weather
One dropped in for a quick Earl Grey, one she wore black leather
Twenty of us filled the room, the place was warming up
I forgot to bring my wine glass, so I supped it from a cup

On Saturday we saddled up, for a ride around the place
A flash three wheeler the mob, the rain it stabbed my face
But it didn’t last too very long, as it gave in to the sun
We stopped at Porters for a feed, a beer and a bit of fun

Late that night young Santa came, a fresh one if I’m right
No reindeer, without a sled, but with an Elf always in sight
More presents they were given, by that happy Elf
When all the team had got one, Santa gave one to himself

Some red, some scotch, some chardonnay, oh yeah we all had fun
Mark he ran some quizzes, and some prizes they were won
Hands on heads, on bums and noses, head, tails I’ve no idea
I wrote it to experience, but I always have fun up here

The next morning it was windy, and it was cold but it was dry
I had my egg and bacon sarnies, and said all my goodbyes
A quick blat down the freeway, the cold wind blowing in my hair
Well honestly, it would have, if my helmet wasn’t there

So till the next time that we meet, wherever it may be
Let’s pray for sun and gentle winds, not rain I want to see
But who cares about the weather, be it rain or shine or sleet
Coz we’re Goldwing riders all of us, and we’ll face anything to meet