mvz

Me reading CLANCY OF THE OVERFLOW by Banjo Paterson

If you don't already like poetry you should not be on this page!

The other poems below are original...

IF I HAD TO "RIGHT" A POEM

If I had to "right" a poem
First I'd make sure the spelling wasn't wrong.
But if my spelling wasn't good -
I'd probably write a song.

But if I REALLY had to write a poem
It wouldn't be for you.
It'd be for lots of other people,
Depending who you gave it to.

Unless you were my true love...
In which case I'd write a secret for you alone.
But for any ordinary friend,
I'd write it on the phone.

And if my poem had to say goodbye,
I'd say it on a train.
But if it meant forever,
I'd probably groan it in the rain.

If I were feeling sad enough
I'd write an extra line.
Otherwise, I guess,
I wouldn't find the time.

So there you are. If I really had to write a poem,
I'd do the best I could, and pin it to the wall.
But if I had to make excuses,
I wouldn't write at all.

______
Copyright (c) November 2005, Robert Binnion 

vim

 

THE BUS TO NOWHERE

Today I could take a holiday
And visit somewhere nice.
Maybe take the bus to Burleigh
(Avoiding Surfers Paradise).

I’d go down by the sea
Where the breeze blows on my face,
And then buy a cup of coffee
In a certain lonely place.

Then walk up to the bluff lookout
To see the blue sea, blue sky sights.
And stare down at the rocks
From dizzy, dangerous heights.

And I’d consider all the seagulls
And I’d make my mind up not to fall.
They fly around forever.
But I don’t fly at all.

Then… I’d walk back to the bus stop
Feeling hardly any pain.
Some days, I take a bus to nowhere
Then I come back home again.

    Copyright (c) 2004, by Robert Binnion 

OZ BICENTENARY (Back in 1988)

Here's to the lucky country
Here's to the land of beers,
And all that water under the bridge
Now we've come 200 years

As Australians individually
A few of us are sus.
But as a nation on the whole
There are no flies on us!

We have our flags and anthems
Our fauna and our birds,
Our dingoes and our yowies
And our drongos and our nerds...

But, I'm proud to be Australian
-- Proud of our tall gum trees,
-- And 200 years of history
Tho I come from overseas!

(Of course I don't really - I just put that in for humour - R.B.)

THE BLIND AND NAKED LADY

Lam 2:18
Ps 80:5
2:Th 2:3
Jer 13:16

2Th 2:11
Prov 20:17
Deut 32:32
1Pet 2:25

Jer 26:5
2Chr 36:15
Mat 22:3
Mat 22:5

Ezek 13:10
Lam 2:20
2Pet 1:19
2Ti 2:15

Jer 9:1
Is 56:10
Is 55:6
Jer 13:15

O wall of the daughter of Zion
Let your tears flow day and night.
You let a man deceive you
And so you lost your sight

You swallowed every lie
You gullibly were fed.
Through fraudulent deception
You went where ever you were led

"Rising up early and sending"
His servants sent letters to every son.
Though many invitations were sent
You never answered one

O wall of the daughter of Zion
Could your punishment be worse?
Foretold in nearly every prophecy --
Between the lines, in nearly every verse

"Oh that my eyes were a fountain of tears"
To weep for those who refuse to see.
God advises: "Return, O daughter of Zion, Return,
Once again to me."

                                                    Copyright (C) Robert Binnion

(Obtain more information about the WCG apostasy & PCG failure here, or watch the Midnight Cry video from Mr. Robert Ardis here.)

With rainfall,
Iron based metals turn to rust.

And evil men are swept away
Like cobwebs . . .

or dust.

"Tired leaves hanging"

He Is Greeted Well

Exhausted by the extended heat
My dusty feet, tramping, through gumtree roots and bush
- Tired leaves hanging,
- Shoulders drooping
I'm slowing. Wilting

Reviving though, at the sight of something
In the distance, beckoning. A red tin roof
I'm coming. To a little dot across the valley
Walking faster. Hurrying.
Longing

No gate, no fence, only
Veranda steps and lonely. Empty rooms that greet me
But I'm SO happy now to be
In one piece -
Home!

TINY WING

How pretty is a butterfly
On pastel-powder wings
It flutters through the scented air
Unlike lower mortal things

How beautiful a butterfly
It doesn't have to wait
It flutters past oblivious
To worry fear and hate

How perfect is a butterfly
Such a lovely wondrous thing
Ten thousand years of planning
In just one tiny wing

How transient a butterfly
Painted flower on the breeze
It flutters past unnoticed,
It dies, and no one sees

______
Copyright (C) Robert Binnion