Oor ain reek's better than ither fowk's fire.
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
But...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
And...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned.
No one questioned.
No one questioned the reek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ode Tae Colin Leslie Dean, Australia's Leading Erotic Poet Allegedly
Weel, colin man, ye’ve done us proud
Ye’ve plestered a’ the wa’s an’ a’
Ye’ve sprung fae in a b’low yer shroud
An’ flashed us wi yer whang an’ a’
An’ mushrooms rare ye didnae spare
Until oor very een were sare
Wi kittlin’ skits this day
But feminists aroon the globe
Are writhing wi their wrath an’ a
An’ probably there’ll be a probe
Wi’ bile an’ much anathema
Yer rhymes are ripe fer getting sockt
Yer tool’s in line fer getting’ dockt
In whittlin’ fits this day
An’ aye it seems there come the day
Whun structured rhymers, scribes an’ a’
Must realise it’s time tae slay
Some ither fiends some ither whar
Ye’ve fed us foo on Aussie prose
Wi chittlin whits ye passed as brose
Never-endin’ly this lang day
A Connaught Man (For Hugh Maguire)
Lord, when he shall come home from war,
Give him no pastures green,
But a wet wind and a soft wind
With reek of turf between.
Nor let Thy light shine overmuch
Lest that his soul should fret
For the grey mist and silver mist
That he will not forget.
Build him no pearl-white palaces
Nor gardens fair and fine,
Lest for his bare, far-stretching bogs
His home-sick heart should pine.
Not groves, nor any vermeil walks,
Nor flowery pastures pied,
But the great sweep of sky and land
And the hills at eventide.
Lord, when the men come from the war,
Give each man his desire!
Give him the soft wind and the rain
And the reek of the turf fire.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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To The Commissioners Of Northern Lights
I SEND to you, commissioners,
A paper that may please ye, sirs
(For troth they say it might be worse
An' I believe't)
And on your business lay my curse
Before I leav't.
I thocht I'd serve wi' you, sirs, yince,
But I've thocht better of it since;
The maitter I will nowise mince,
But tell ye true:
I'll service wi' some ither prince,
An' no wi' you.
I've no been very deep, ye'll think,
Cam' delicately to the brink
An' when the water gart me shrink
Straucht took the rue,
An' didna stoop my fill to drink -
I own it true.
I kent on cape and isle, a light
Burnt fair an' clearly ilka night;
But at the service I took fright,
As sune's I saw,
An' being still a neophite
Gaed straucht awa'.
Anither course I now begin,
The weeg I'll cairry for my sin,
The court my voice shall echo in,
An' - wha can tell? -
Some ither day I may be yin
O' you mysel'.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He has coosten his cloak on the ither shouther.
Some cut lang whangs aff ither folk's leather.
Ye cut lang whangs out o' ither folk's leather.
Bread and cheese is gude to eat when folk can get nae ither meat.
Dirty old fire
Fire in my hair
Fire in my eyes
Fire between my thighs
Thank you for the fire
Fire gone and burned down my house
Fire deflowered me
Fire drew me in
Fire on the television
Fire dancing in the nude
Fire the best liar of them all
Thank you Fire
poem by Lindsay Crosby
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fire on Your Finger
Fire on your finger,
Fire in your eye,
Fire in your spirit,
Fire that won’t die.
Fire in the bare bones of being,
Fire to uphold what’s right,
Fire in the heart of darkness,
Fire to fuel Love’s light.
Fire to burn but not consume,
Fire to learn and not assume,
Fire to live and give living room,
Fire to love and sing her tune.
poem by Tony Jolley
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Expect not a very covetous person to be very honest for a long time. Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in nae ither.
Fire Is Many Things
Fire is many things,
Fire is insatiable.
Fire is everlasting,
Fire is uncontainable.
Fire is helpful,
Sometimes constructive.
Fire is harmful,
Often destructive.
Fire is passion,
Keeping hearts aflame.
Fire is romance,
Keeping love untamed.
Fire is the block of life
That tells the unknown.
Fire is forever,
Written in stone
Anger, heat,
Passion, and lust.
Every single day,
Fire is within us.
poem by Ben Payton
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She's On Fire
Well this is just between us but between us let's get high
In pictures I have seen her and to see her is truly fine
She's on fire
She's on fire
Flowers in her evening set I get the feeling she won't forget
And there's times you'd long to be her but to be her is surely blinding
She's on fire
She's on fire
She's on to me
And I'm over me
She's on fire
And if I could be inside her light
I would steal enough to make my way into the night
And if I could be inside her light I might just find I'd be alright
Well it's not just a daydream if you decide to make it your life
And this is not between us but between us let's keep getting back to where it's from
She's on fire
She's on fire
She's on to me
And I'm over me
She's on fire
She's on to me
And I'm over me
She's over me
And I'm on to her
She's on fire
She's on fire
She's on fire
song performed by by Train from Drops Of Jupiter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sic reek as is therein comes out of the lum top.
Fire Ferocious
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
You show no mercy – no regard:
A writhing army uncontrolled.
At least you don’t discriminate,
Selecting to exterminate:
All dealt with equal pain untold.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
In time of drought you run amok –
An open chimney of the land.
Prefer to scorch than suffocate:
In blinding zeal, incinerate
To blackened vista now unmanned.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
Destruction be your only goal
For you to vent your jealous wrath
On gentle life with caring soul
And human victims to console:
As you are none, but psychopath.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
So there it is – you are but flame:
Reacting gases to adorn –
With orange flicks of flailing arms,
You’re flaunting your demonic charms!
Now leave us for bereaved to mourn.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
So many lives to claim.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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