Poem Number 272 - The News That Carried On - 26/2/1988

By now the time is over two months,
Since our much celebrated  day of marriage, 
And yet there  friends of mine still learning it,
With plenty of total shock also to my embarrassment.

But as more  know of such good news,
My emotions are enlightened by such passing of news,
And yet my wife who has little  of her own friends over here,
Makes good friends from day to another.

 For nearly a month she has committed herself to work,
To do a job that is physically hard tough work,
But her own reward is to have cash in her hand,
And be out of the hornet's nest, of our little home.

How tired she is to come home after work, of some days,
To commence the household  duties feeling tired at nights.
Yes Nirmala will finish what has to be done for us,
And to no rest she will end up collapsing in bed, waiting for me.

For me, many days have passed since our day of marriage,
A day that I will always remember in my heart, forever lasting,
A night and day that will show up in my memory of lightness,
And of course....the important decision of a life time comes true. That's news!

Poem Number 271 - No One Is The Real Boss - 26/2/1988

For a longtime my heart has been fulfilled,
My love of true life loves me to the hilt.
It may be  hard for me to imagine me being  single again,
But there's no doubt about it I love her, I really love her.

We can talk to reach each other seriously,
We can both be mucking around jokingly,
We can also be a little hurt for the joke words to be said,
But we can also make love to the tune of 'Sound of Music'.

There's little that separates us in any differences,
There are a lot of ideas and decisions we share,
And there's little to be said when our bodies touch each other,
But most of all we can work things out together.

No one is the real boss!
No one is equal to the other!
No one is indifferent with day to day life style!
And no one will separate or destroy what we are building!

Both our families care of us so much,
Both of our friends treat us like friends,
And yet young at hearts we may still seem,
 our priority is to fulfil our dreams.

Poem Number 270 - The Sex Appeal Of Man - 19/2/1988

Girls wolf whistle as they see men in tight stubby shorts,
And whilst they try to attract the attention of these uninterested
        men,
They are in a peer group of women learning first grab of a man's
        heart,
And wearing tight jeans, showing off their torpedoes enjoying this
       tempting time.

But the men keep to themselves and laugh at their own jokes,
And making sure that the women don't hear what they say,
So one of the sexes will have to decide to make the real move,
To separate the men from the boys and the women from the girls.

Each watches, each  every momentous move,
Gambling bets are taken to see who's got the 'guts',
There is no  music around, there is no building in sight,
Heavy bushes and forests surround them all.

There is no time to kill as dark will soon arrive,
To quieten the noises of discussions that followed on each day.
Now the trumpeters of background music do their entrance tune,
And now the crowds no talk and watch with alarming care.

To no gutfull feel the woman casually with across to the men,
So, their bouncing torpedoes  can be seen from a thousand miles 
      away.
The men take off their stubbies and their  underclothes,
To reveal, they are a real star of their own sex appeal.

Nine months later all  women give birth to a child,
Whilst the men are now concerned  of little independence they will 
      have.
They worry of a new life to look after,
And their star sex appeal now fades away.

Poem Number 269 - Millions Of Dollars Galore - 18/2/1988

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a dream that is real?

 To lie back on a banana chair and soak up each days sun?

 To be called up to a phone, yet no energy is used?


And to feel free to do anything you want to do?

Yes, wouldn't it be nice that your car is chauffeured around town,

You have a few party drinks in your limo,

While big business decisions you make by yourself,

And there is no need to touch any money you earn?

Yes, I suppose it would be nice to have an upstairs maid and

 also for downstairs,

Yes, I suppose that your mansion will be electronically fitted,

So that just a push of a button or two,

And all your dreams and wishes will come true!

Of course it would be nice if you were single,

And organising parties was the main event of your day,

But for the men who are married, to be divorced is insane,

And temptations to enjoy your life are limited but you can

 change that!

So you can still be free to do what you want to do,

With millions of dollars galore at your fingertips,

The way you spend it (or save it), is entirely up to you,

But you must remember most importantly to include your 

special partner in your life!

Poem Number 268 - A Helping Hand - 18/2/1988

Last week I received a nice special phone call,
To be asked to give a hand, where no one's pulling his or her socks.

What is it, 'He is asking me to do?

Is to give help for the State elections coming up.’

For who lives down in south in Cronulla,

It is a pleasure to do this for the Liberal Party,

But jokes aside the winning tide has arrived,

I only help for the party not for the candidate.

I know her chances of winning are strong,

And I know that there's only a slight chance,

I could be wrong, so to just enjoy the drinks and food of the election night,

To be with crowds of supporters who work hard all day.

And then listening to minutes of news reports,

That presents such stormy forecast for 'Barry',

And to eventually hear the cheers and laughter,

Of a hard fought courageous landslide victory.

With Neville out,

With Barry out,

With Nick in,

And he's forever holding on!

Poem Number 267 - Decisions Of Importance - 17/2/1988

It is not many times that a decision of importance,

Is made by myself to benefit the company,

But when you sit down, side by side of your boss,

You have a general feeling of satisfaction, when he doesn't know everything.

You realize that everything depends on yourself, When your decision is of high importance, And it concerns the Administration you are involved in, And of course the appreciation of service by our clients.

So there you are, doing a job that someone else should be doing,

Or really should have done months before the new complete system was brought up,

But to no avail, my boss and I carry on with wasteful work,

As it left no one else to know what is right or what is wrong.

So tedious and repetitious this job may be,

It is left to myself to carry the burden,

Up to us to waste time that could have been spent somewhere else,

To utilize proper working time to fulfil a day's work.

Poem Number 266 - Common-sense In Style - 16/2/1988

Time upon time, each and every single day,

You who makes the same journey mostly every day,

Experiences the different bodies of faces,

Of which also travel along the same route.

To men a woman's face is easily forgotten,

 Especially, if he's never seen her before,

And he knows he's never going to see her again,

 So there is no run away tears shed from him.

Where as to women, a face is always memorable,

Each face is recognized for its own merits.

Yet the faces of men are never forgotten,

They feel like wearing these faces on their dresses of medal.

You at times 'pop' your eyes open wide,

And suddenly push everyone aside.

For you want to touch and be with 'her' body',

This woman who has just bent over and showered her pants.

As a woman you prop yourself up and sit up straight,

With your little knees, no rattling, your lips so relaxed,

Ever-so-ready to be unzipping 'his' tight slacks,

To this man, who is just standing over you.

Yet to do these thing, to be able to do,

Is not such of an easy task.

For commons-ense should prevail,

To be using common sense in style.