Poem Number 147 - Supporting My Appeal - 30/7/1986

How I hate to be stirred at work,

By the little juveniles at our work.

Constant arrogance by the young juniors,

Who will never stop at play, while working?

Yes, it does get to me!

Yes, it does annoy me!

All I can do is let the others above,

Take my complaints and serve the necessary discipline.

Yet I can only take as much as a small joke,

That’ll keep me going, and in a small way retaliate.

But being punched by one,

For a little reason taken big.

Well aggression, he may learn,

But aggression, he will keep.

At least, the employees at work, who witnessed it,

Can see my side and would support me, in any appeal.

Poem Number 146 - Thanks, Family Of Mine - 30/7/1986

Thank you family, for helping me through,

Agony and pressure, in the last two years.

Your thoughts, words of wisdom and inspiration,

Have now aided me in getting me above water.

To Mum, who has never stopped and never will,

Through the good and bad of my first twenty-five.

With modest actions and most times in sadness,

Mum has pushed me through and now my head is above water.

To Dad, who will always laugh, be serious: at play,

At almost anything I say,

He who was there in the times I needed someone,

Had the courage and strength to make me grow.

To Anne-Marie, with my brotherly love,

Who at times has her own small pressures.

Yet, still puts up with me,

When I should’ve been the one in the family, standing up so tall.

There will never be enough words,

There will never be enough smiles and laughs,

And there will never be any shedded tears,

For me to describe the great gift, within our entire family. 

Poem Number 145 - A Mix Up, Never To Be - 29/7/1986

What happen to us last Sunday?

Could happen to anyone, at all.

At least we can say that,

That is was both of us to blame.

To meet at an agreeable time and place,

To ensure that we’d both are there on time,

It was the necessary arrangements, for us to both go out,

And to talk, eat, laugh and enjoy the game ahead.

It was to be our first time for us,

To go out and watch the big game of VFL.

But as things turned out,

We were to be there individually, on our own.

I didn’t like waiting too long for Carla,

But when I think about it, I should’ve,

Only twenty-five minutes waiting and then I decided to leave,

Poor Carla, arrived five minutes after and then left the SCG ground, as well.

Never once did I have in my mind,

A thought of Carla being at the SCG, as well.

I think that she thinks, that I was never there, at all.

To keep herself at complete rest,

To produce the proof that is true.

Well ‘Carla’, you better trust me in what I told you,

Cause I have complete faith in her, all through.

Next time, there’ll be no next time like that,

In fact, I’ll surely make sure of that.

We’ll meet near or at each other’s homes,

And not end up in a mix up, life that. 

Poem Number 144 - Will Be Your First - 29/7/1986

As we walk with each other, feet by feet,

As we look at each other, face to face,

As we touch each other, hand with hand,

We experience the personal friendship of which is explored.

Adults of humans, we are all to be,

Adults of self-discipline mixed with tender loving care.

Shed we, any tear for feelings of sudden sadness,

We learn from ourselves the true spirit of love.

We like to blame others for wrong doings of myself,

We like to brag on and on, leaving others gazed for a while….

We don’t like to be told, but we like to tell them,

And mostly we like to promote ourselves without anyone standing in one’s way.

Temporary emotions of hatred arise,

To be envious of your partner,

For bashing the words out of hell,’

Into your little ears!

Can’t you, you of the adults,

Get yourself into a smoother gear.

So you don’t run out of juice,

And you’re left alone, in the middle of nowhere.

You don’t have to follow your brothers and sisters.

You don’t have to show or lead the way.

Just be responsible and secure, within yourself,

On the actions and words of life, those others know of you in better ways.

May you judge yourself with more self-assurance,

Then wipe your fingers clean of standards,

To prove that the only person you know can be,

In this world, will be your first.

Poem Number 143 - Scared - 28/7/1986

Emotions are such that make you feel happy and sad,

And at times, also sad,

How can I tell you how I feel?

It seems to me, sometimes unreal.

I do care and love you but how can I know, how long this will last?

But things change and time goes fast.

Yesterday, I was scared, “ will it or won’t it work out?” I asked myself,

The reply was to let time see itself out.

You say you love me,

But why is part of me, unbelieving.

I hope you will change my mind,

And make me see it is all you. All I need.

Will I ever see happiness that is what I ask myself, over and over again?

Till in my heart, it all starts to rain.

I feel that I do need to get away,

A place where there is no care or worry.

I do hope to get there in a hurry,

At the moment, I feel like a child, running wild.

I do believe it can last,

But things go so fast.

I feel you don’t still know the ‘real’ me,

I hope time will make you see,

The way to the heart,

That can tear apart emotions.

Should we fight about brutal things that don’t mean anything?

Maybe I still can’t control my feelings,

And so I will leave it up to you,

To see what you can do.

Poem Number 142 - The Bad Apple - 25/7/1986

Is there something that can make the world cry?

Isn’t there animosity amongst us all?

To shed a tear or two, on the outcries of us all,

To get rid of the bad apple amongst the others?

Poem Number 141 - The Sweet Kiss - 25/7/1986

May the thunderous clouds, stop to silence,

May the roof over our heads, stop leaking.

So that the living standards of us, improve,

To enable the ripening of our love wide, in time.

The one day of white aisles be prettied up,

To show the enormous love of the bride and groom.

With wedding bells and the chapel organ, still playing inside our heads,

Each day, each month and every single year.

Whether there’s be no page boys or flower girls,

No best man or any bridesmaids, standing close aside.

The special moments of slipping a ring on her finger,

And the sweet kiss will be remembered, forever and ever.

The purity of this day will never be forgotten,

And the service will leave, all with a smile.

To the two that have loved,

And loved together, they will do.

Such special occasions would never have been felt,

Such sweetness and adoration would have never been felt.

By this man and woman, who will always be cherishing,

Each other in their own special and discreet ways.

Poem Number 140 - The Hurstville Men - 25/7/1986

When can you ever talk sense to them,

They that sell the cover of a lifetime?

When can you ever joke with them,

They that you can relate to, today?

Form the very not so manly, 'Swordie'

Who cuts words into pieces with his lasting smile.

Is it true that “Dale”, is the black sheep in this family,

Who will point his finger at anyone, as an excuse for a drink?

Maybe the everlasting “Greg”, (or as commonly known ‘5 finger’s man’),

Who was named after a cricketer called, 'Chapelli'?

Can he discounted for his continuous laughs,

Which creates such havoc in the New South Wales branch Office?

Of course, there’s a 'Bevan', who keeps an eye or two on these men,

As he’s now counting the years, since he sold his first.

But for 'Shortie Davo' (otherwise known as ‘the man with the iron gun’),

There’s somebody you can ask for a beer and he’ll drink yours and you’ll think it’s fun.

There are probably a lot of words in or out of the dictionary, I would apply,

To ensure there’s no mucking around in this office of “The Hurstville Men”,

But at the moment, I can’t find one, but shall say this:

“You must never shout the word,’ beer’,

For they’ll run towards the nearest bar,

And serve one with the coldest gold mouthwatering, ‘hard drink’”. 

Poem Number 139 - He Will Be By Her Side - 22/7/1986

The cream of life is the natural birth of mother’s nature,

While the parents watch in antipathy,

And the child enters the earth’s atmosphere,

Breathing with much little pressure, than an adult,

Is this child, a ‘One hundred percent”,

Perfectly fit, child of tomorrow?

Doe this child know what the world will offer,

Once he or she has grown to adult years?

The strength of men and the compassion of women,

A whole strength of life that offers a strong challenge,

As the seconds, minutes, hours, days, moths and years,

Shall test the sorrow by one drop of your tears.

Words will never cover the scenic picture,

Of a new born child of this day.

The mother-reaching climax of her nine-month pain,

To bring in a terrific result and reward, after tremendous inhaling of breathes.

The father has done his job, once she is found pregnant,

But the intense close care will bring them close,

To the extent that he will be by her side,

Watching and comforting her, in all that immense time. 

Poem Number 138 - Turned To Russians - 22/7/1986

Politicians making decisions,

Being criticized by us all, all the time.

The fear of guns, the fear of war,

Gets us worried, and start to make us talk.

Many times we talk of, murdering each other,

With no feelings, of passions at all.

We, as our own “Majors, Colonels and Generals”,

Are out to prove the point that you wanted too, art first.

Calm down al you hostile people,

Calm down to meet your peace.

There will be no “uranium war”,

Within Australia, at all.

We need Uranium, to protect our country,

To help defend and attack, so more.

These small groups of interruptive protesters,

Are just causing to be a nuisance in our society.

These I am led to believe,

Could be the “Underground Communists”,

Those are slowly working their way up,

The way up of parliamentary success.

At times there is mot much to be said,

Of these ‘Como’s', of which they are only humane.

But there is always the thought that we’ll all be ruined,
if our society is turned over to the Russians. 

Poem Number 137 - Taxation Time - 22/7/1986

Bring in all your financial return!

Bring in everything and don’t a burn!

For we want to explore, in your individual standards,

The kind of lifestyle you are currently living in.

All your personal details will be kept discreet,

But don’t blame us if the press leaks it out!

We’ll query every dollar you earn, every day,

So that there will be little refund or we’ll even ask you to pay us.

We don’t believe in tax dodgers,

Only the big ones we’ll only bother about.

But for the most cases we’ll take our time,

And record all on all: on our secret computers.

For once and only we’ll give no warnings,

For “law breakers,” it’ll take years for the courts to go through.

Mainly big dollar earners with lots of egg in their basket,

Are the main ones we concentrate on, to get our best.

So don’t be late to return your ‘return’,

And never forget to insert your correct figures.

So that we will issue a cheque of a little sum,

And there is no black mark, against your name. 

Poem Number 136 - Mother-Son Love - 22/7/1986

To a more than special person I will always care for,

May you remember me in comfortable surroundings.

Whether it be at home or abroad,

With angels and crystal stars floating all around.

May the rest of your life, be in the affirmative,

With white Christmases and colored gifts: piled up.

To open each one with rewarding kisses and love

To be sitting high above the gates of heaven.

You need not even discuss with me,

Your finalized will and “good will”,

Because, to make me happy as a son,

Is for me, to be reassured that you enter God’s kingdom.

As many and numerous times I’ve acted badly to you,

It’s just because I’m living in a different life style,

But I know as a fact that I will never work,

As hard as you have, in your younger years back home.

You and I will verbal fight for different things we believe in,

But there is one thing no one can take away from us.

This will keep us together, beyond death to us part,

And this is the great strength and length of “Mother-Son”.

Poem Number 135 - The Splendor Of Love - 22/7/1986

Is this a moody feeling inside myself,

That has disturbed one other’s mind of concentration?

Do I act and feel warm one moment,

And change to an icy cold depression, in the next moment?

Yet maybe she think it be,

Maybe she is so right,

But I can never see myself,

Unless I am told by my love.

There would be many strange reasons,

That makes us seem strange of our partner,

But only reality and true love of understanding,

Will enhance the beauty and the splendor of our love.

Is it the unreality of not holding a balanced relationship,

That causes this small ineffective rift?

But no one with common sense will leave this aside,

It is to acknowledge, opinionate and repair the undue hurt.

Don’t be greedy of any bad thoughts,

Let out what you know or feel.

Let them know what is eating inside you,

For you’ll never be afraid of the sharing of words.

If one does not speak for moments of time,

If one does not want to tell for silence reasons,

Then decide your response with thoughtful care,

For if you do not, then this will always reoccur.

Poem Number 134 - 'Pip' The Lost Cat - 22/7/1986

To the little ‘Pip’, that has just disappeared,

May you front up at our home for food.

With your spotted black and white fur coat,

With little pad-like feet softly wandering around.

We adopted from the cries of the dark side,

The cries of a lost kitten finding a new home,

Caring and loving was my mother to her,

Was the newfound owner and cuddlier of the kitten.

Purring to a feminine touch of one’s hand,

Sleeping in soft, comfortable living conditions,

Was she, who never bit any of us,

And roam around from house to garden and played little kitten games.

To me, she will arrive back with stitches and all,

The loss of joy will be back to normal.

Once the news of the small ‘Pip’ kitten is shown,

Everyone will roll back to his or her daily routine.

Poem Number 133 - Running The 'Pru' - 17/7/1986

Working at the ‘Pru’ is not something that is new,

But the friendship you share is always a tight bond.

There are many of us, who don’t have friends here,

And if you don’t, there is nothing to fear.

Before there are Administration changes, that are affected,

Everyone knows this information, which is given.

You have junior clerks doing junior jobs: known as grade one,

You have the senior/junior clerks with that little extra authority.

In different departments, there are different grades,

From Section Head, who share the most burdened responsibility.

They have to be the interviewer for performance reviews,

Working out individually how that individual is suited.

Then in Departments, you will have the 2IC’s,

These 2IC’s assist in the running of the sections,

Making sure that the Department works, with high esteem,

Which any serious problems or solutions are discussed with the Departmental Head.

Most major Departmental discussions are made a t Departmental meeting,

It is like a meeting with directors of a company,

Having meeting with no long term end,

But is treated seriously, as any outcome will effect at least one of us,

The Branch Manager is our link to all other areas,

That is; Head Office, Agents and policy Holders.

You have got to have that charisma,

To have all the fruit well, all in one bag!

Poem Number 132 - Another Birthday - 16/7/1986

For him who drinks with no alcohol,

For him who left a girl and is working on another one,

For him to have a sense of humor of a comic,

For him to be always, so pleased and cheerful.

It is today for his another birthday,

As he said to me yesterday,

“Today, you are one year closer to mine,

But tomorrow you are one year further from mine.”

He could be called, “ The Mandarin Man”.

Or even so, “The disco kid”,

But with his sniffs, snuffles and coughs,

He’s great to talk too, not as a boss.

I thought I would never find such a good boss,

Yet, he does defend and attack for you, when decided.

One day, he’d look back on his life,

And count how many girls he could’ve turned too, to be his wife.

To the birthday-boy (or man),

Many happy returns for the rest of your years,

And many “Group discussions” of all subjects,

To do, like the, “Carry On Gang”: keep on laughing!

Poem Number 131 - I Shall Never Leave - 12/7/1986

It doesn’t feel any different to me,

To be aging to year twenty-five.

It just feel the same as being twenty-one going to twenty-four,

But mostly of all, it makes me feel that little bit older.

At work, I was treated like a king,

With a terrific card and an edible cake.

Then, as the afternoon came, so linked up all the drinks,

As best wishes from every individual, were told to me.

At home, when I arrived it was completely different,

The atmosphere was all right, though tense.

There is no hard feeling that I think of mum,

But arriving at ten to twelve on your twenty-fifth is dumb.

No eruptions of blustered and directed stupid phrases,

Should have been thrown at either of us.

Yes, I know that mum wanted it to be special,

Yes, in know that deep down inside, I did hurt you.

If you wanted you and me to share it: to be a special night,

You could have told me that somewhat before.

As the time we both share is so precious,

That I have got a goaled-life, in front of me.

Don’t take me wrong “mother”, for this is true,

But what you must remember is that I’ll never leave,

Nit in a mental or emotional point of view,

But only in a physical way, soon shall do.

Poem Number 130 - Guess My Age - 11/7/1986

It’s a year since my last,

It’s four years since my twenty-first,

It’s twenty-four years, since I can’t remember my first,

It will be another twenty-five years, when I think about retiring.

How old do you think I am?