Just got a new job, here are some poems i thought of to commemmorrate this event.
Working Sucks
Getting Paid Rules!!!
SMOKO
Having smoko's really fun
eating up a sticky bun
you can drink a can of coke
we can all be good blokes
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Jun 5, 2011
Nov 11, 2009
Sep 7, 2009
can't WAIT for summer
I can't wait for summer when I'll have a belly full of lettuce and bread and mayonnaise and chicken. i imagine we're up in my old room, the light's coming throught window. I never have to lower the blinds, cos there's a house about two feet away from the window, with no window. The ceilings are really high so the room's cool. I've got your shirt off and the sweat on your stomach is prickling in the cool breeze. I'm hoping a cool song will be playing when we end up having sex, I wonder if I can somehow cue something up without seeming awkward. I dunno how things are gonna progress in the next five minutes or so, but it'll be really nice I bet.
Aug 21, 2009
Jun 12, 2009
Judith Wright, my favourite poet
Trapped Dingo
So here, twisted in steel, and spoiled with red
your sunlight hide, smelling of death and fear,
they crushed out your throat the terrible song
you sang in the dark ranges. With what crying
you mourned him! - the drinker of blood, the swift death-bringer
who ran with you so many a night; and the night was long.
I heard you, desperate poet, Did you hear
my silent voice take up the cry? - replying:
Achilles is overcome, and Hector dead,
and clay stops many a warrior's mouth, wild singer.
Voice from the hills and the river drunken with rain,
for your lament the long night was too brief.
Hurling your woes at the moon, that old cleaned bone,
till the white shorn mobs of stars on the hill of the sky
huddled and trembled, you tolled him, the rebel one.
Insane Andromache, pacing your towers alone,
death ends the verse you chanted; here you lie.
The lover, the maker of elegies is slain,
and veiled with blood her body's stealthy sun.
So here, twisted in steel, and spoiled with red
your sunlight hide, smelling of death and fear,
they crushed out your throat the terrible song
you sang in the dark ranges. With what crying
you mourned him! - the drinker of blood, the swift death-bringer
who ran with you so many a night; and the night was long.
I heard you, desperate poet, Did you hear
my silent voice take up the cry? - replying:
Achilles is overcome, and Hector dead,
and clay stops many a warrior's mouth, wild singer.
Voice from the hills and the river drunken with rain,
for your lament the long night was too brief.
Hurling your woes at the moon, that old cleaned bone,
till the white shorn mobs of stars on the hill of the sky
huddled and trembled, you tolled him, the rebel one.
Insane Andromache, pacing your towers alone,
death ends the verse you chanted; here you lie.
The lover, the maker of elegies is slain,
and veiled with blood her body's stealthy sun.
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