tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22534030569143866362024-03-25T10:33:42.817+11:00Urban PoetFletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.comBlogger590125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-77801746839895391932024-03-18T00:01:00.010+11:002024-03-18T22:45:34.613+11:00We Argue<p><span style="font-size: large;">I go for a walk</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I intend it to be a long walk,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I take the dogs with me,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A couple of happy faces</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To smile at me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Towards the end, I stop for</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lemon sorbet in a cone</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anything, to not go home</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet and sour at the same time</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The sun shines brightly down.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The dogs and I sit on a step </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">outside the ice cream shop </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and watch the world wander by.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The dogs get twisted in their leads</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At least there is a breeze</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The sun beats down on the ground</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The sky is blue all around.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Men in shorts abound</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A girl smiles with her dachshund,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My boyfriend waits at home with a frown</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I’m wondering where else I can go in town?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-49290248556688175672024-03-04T13:25:00.005+11:002024-03-12T12:24:51.736+11:00My Baby Got Back (Urban's version)<p><span style="font-size: large;">Oh... my... God…</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thommo, look at his butt, uh! it´s so big.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He looks like one of those hip guys’ boyfriends.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, uh, you know,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Who understands those hip guys?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They only talk to him because he looks so fly, okay.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I mean, his butt! It is just so… big.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I cannot believe it is just so… round.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is, like, out there. I mean, wow.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Look! He has just so... much!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I like big butts and I cannot lie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Your other brothers cannot deny.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That when a boy walks in with a narrow waist and</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A round thing in your face. You get sprung.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Want to pull up tough, ‘cause you notice that butt was how much?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Deep in the jeans he is wearing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am hooked and I cannot stop staring.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Oh baby, I want to get with you,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And take your picture.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In my arms as I sniff you.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My homeboys tried to warn me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But that butt you got makes me so horny.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ooh, take your smooth skin.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and say you want to get in my business?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well, use me, cruise me,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Because he ain’t your average pup…py. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I see him dancing,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To hell with romancing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He has sweat. Wet.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Got it going like a thing to object’.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am tired of magazines</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Saying small butts are the thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Take the average young man & ask him that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He has got to pack much back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, fella's, yeah, fella's,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Has your boyfriend got the butt? Hell, yeah.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, tell him to shake it, SHAKE IT,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Watch him make it…</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Shake that healthy butt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby got back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">(a muscle back with a handful o’ booty.)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby got back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">(fingers in his crack with a handful o’ booty.)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I like them round and I like them big,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And when I am throwing a gig,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I just can't help myself,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am acting like an animal.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now here is my handle,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I want to get ya home and UH!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Double up, UH! UH!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not talking about playing coy,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">'Cause playin coy ain’t something I enjoy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I like them real thick and juicy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So fine that juicy booty.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Until we both get in trouble,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Begging for a piece of that bubble.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, I am looking at rock videos.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Watching these himbos</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Walking like boy hoes.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You can have them himbos.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I keep my men like Joe Schmo.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A word to the bunch of bros,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I want to get with you.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I won't swear, or hit you.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I've got to be straight</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I say I wanna get in you</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Till the break of day.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby, got it going on,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A lot of johns won't like this song,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">'Cause them punks like to hit it and quit it,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I would rather stay and play with you,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">‘cause I am long, and I am strong,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I am down to getting the friction on.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, fellas, yeah, fellas,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Do you want a roll of my business? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then turn around, and stick it out,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">All the boys gotta shout. Yeah!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby got back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby got back!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yeah baby.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When it comes to lads,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The latest thing aint got nothing to do with my selection.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tall, dark and handsome.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He got to be like 5´ 11".</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, your boyfriend drives hard bargain</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Getting made over by Carson</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But Carson ain’t got a hand in the back of what he’s got going on</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My anaconda don't want none,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Unless you got buns, man.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You can do side bends, or sit-ups,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But bend you over and I go crazy,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some brothers want to play that hard role,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And tell ya that butt ain´t gold,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, they toss it, and leave it,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I pull up quick to retrieve it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So ‘they’ say you’re what? Fat?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well, I ain´t down with that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">´Cause your waist is tight and your curves are kicking it,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I am thinking about sticking it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To the beanpole guys in the magazines,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">you aint it Mr Thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Gimme a brother, I can´t resist, ha,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Feed them up so their strong Mr, ha.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some knucklehead tried to diss.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">‘cause his boys are on my list,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He had game but he chose to hit them,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I pull up quick to get with them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, guys if that butt is round,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And you want to show… it… down…</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Call me and I’ll cum around,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And kick them nasty thoughts around,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby got back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Baby got back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Broad Shoulders and he got much back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Broad Shoulders a good way to hold onto that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-71984102894596056982024-02-23T16:31:00.013+11:002024-02-28T23:53:55.049+11:00The Wilderness Society<p><span style="font-size: large;">There she was on the street, bright-eyed, with 'that' expectant smile,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">with a clipboard and a badge, probably in the middle of a university education.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And she spots me and her eyes widen, and she smiles, in anticipation, a</span><span style="font-size: large;">nd she says something like are you concerned about the environment?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I look her in the eye and say, What did you have in mind? Regretting even saying that much. I should have just kept walking.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Do you think we should be taking greater care of it?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I think for a minute and I say, Yes, but we’re not, are we.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And she says so that would be a yes?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I say, Yes, No, I don’t think we are going to make it? I look her in the eye and shrug, either way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And she says, well, do you want me to tell you how we can?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I think blah, blah, blah. And I say that I think it is all too late.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But would you rather think positively about it because its better than having negative thoughts. Right?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I wonder if laughing is an appropriate response? But I don’t.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She holds my gaze, waiting for more.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I don’t think she really understands what I am saying. I think a bit more, and I say, What are we saving? Really? What?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And she opens her clip board, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">but I continue on, look at Ukraine, look at the Middle East.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She tilts her head and opens her mouth to speak.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At any point, 50% of the world hates the other 50%.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, she says…</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Half the world doesn’t have access to fresh water, or enough food, while the other half is eating itself to death. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, she says again.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And those with more won’t give up anything to those people who have less.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But 'people power' has bought 80% renewable energy to South Australia, she says. 100% some days.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I wonder, again, if laughing is an appropriate response. But, I wonder, instead, what percentage of the world is South Australia?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, doesn’t that say anything is possible?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Rundle Mall, and Hindley Street, and the BBQ Inn, and Glenunga and Unley and St Peters, all flash through my mind, and I say, The majority of the world isn’t taking climate change seriously.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But it is not going to save us?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It might. No, it can.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, even you, I say. You are not standing here for the good of human kind.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Why do you think I am standing here then, she says.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To save yourself, I say. You are standing here to save yourself.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-31292222289839727192024-02-05T15:37:00.006+11:002024-02-05T15:37:35.372+11:00The Fall<p><span style="font-size: large;">Time marches on</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">cutting a swathe across humanity,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">not the quicksand of death,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">nor the currents of life,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">slows it down.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It never stops.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The beating heart of all of man’s achievements,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">or the reckless indifference </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to his very own survival.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It has borne witness</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to his rise, and rise, and rise,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as it now gazes upon</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">his stupidity </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and fall.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Time is in unlimited supply,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">the irony of which,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">from all reports, is that</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">man seems to have</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">so little of it left.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-21166355224472507402023-12-28T19:06:00.002+11:002023-12-28T19:06:35.473+11:00Secret Of Life 101<p><span style="font-size: large;">You’re too big, You’re too small</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You’re too fat, you’re too thin.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You’re too short, you’re too tall.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You’re too up, you’re too down.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You succeed, you stall.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">People are going to judge you no matter what you do</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, fuck it!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Be yourself. Own it!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Be proud of it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Because you, yes you,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">are good enough just the way you are.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Don’t ever listen to anyone who says otherwise,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They are probably only saying it </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to make themselves look bright,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">it is one of the secrets of life,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to learn,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to observe,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">‘other’ people are absurd.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-42686286446646580562023-12-21T19:00:00.004+11:002023-12-28T19:10:27.307+11:00Cruel<p><span style="font-size: large;">The wind blows, outside,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">somewhere beyond in the stillness, I find myself.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A transitory concept.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My body hums,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">my senses numb,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am lost in the</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">idea off all of this.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ignorance can be bliss.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We should all strive more,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">beyond the hubbub</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and what everyone else does,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to what makes us special, unique.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A full life</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">is a consolation</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">for it having passed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So fast, my head spins,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">until, suddenly, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am staring at it all behind.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Why didn’t I? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had plenty of time too? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I guess, I thought I had forever.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-81593614109666865102023-12-14T23:06:00.008+11:002024-01-01T23:15:38.780+11:0021st Century Twats<p><span style="font-size: large;">Xi Jinping is a cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Xi Jinping is a cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Xi Jinping is a cunt, cunt, cunt,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Xi Jinping is a cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Putin is an evil cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Putin is an evil cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Putin is an evil cunt, cunt, cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Putin is an evil cunt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Kim Jong Un is a fat cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Kim Jong Un is a fat cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Kim Jong Un is a fat, fat, cunt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Kim Jong Un is a fat cunt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Donald Trump is a populist, authoritarian, narcissist, lying, obese, piece of orange shit set on destroying America to prop up his fragile child’s ego.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Americans may well be the stupidest race on the planet, as they look as though they may just vote Trump back into office to fuck them all over again.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And this time, it will be without lube, from all reports.</span></p><p><br /></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-76894489461714769282023-12-02T23:44:00.006+11:002023-12-11T09:27:50.538+11:00Losing Faith<p><span style="font-size: large;">Losing my faith, well, you know, that was lost long ago, because it never made sense, to me anyway, not in a modern world.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Original sin, what? Nobody knows what that is about.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dying on the cross, to forgive us our trespasses, that just makes arses,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">of you and me. The all powerful had to kill his son, why did he do that?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Because he loved him so much? Huh? Because he loved us? What?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He made us witness that? For eternity? With no chance of reprieve?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The omnipotent, could just forgive, did he not think of that? Not too smart.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When did death ever equal love? It never did? <i>(Only grandma kissing her husband of 70 years goodbye)</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And those big disasters, what about those? We thank god for the few of us he saved, never questioning his need to kill any of us in the first place? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You mad man! What the fuck did you do?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then there are his representatives, pious, in a dress, fiddling with little girls and little boys? What a mess. Made in his own image? What about them? God’s image. Not too impressive.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And what about the other 4999 all powerful gods, running all the other god schemes in the world? What about those guys? Why would I not buy into their claims. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Smart people in the world, who have studied these things, say it doesn’t matter which version you buy into, they are all the same.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Step right up! Step right up! New and improved god bullshit for your dreams.”</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ah, no thanks, I’ll take my chances with the rest of these poor sods treading the earth.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And where do the dinosaur's 150 million years fit into all of this? Made in his own image? God is a dinosaur? That is the only bit that makes any sense.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Oh no, I don’t have any faith in your man made religion, let it sooth the masses, like the cult of Trump soothes the masses now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He is god. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The same delusional, ill-fitting failure of the all powerful that explains nothing, but god.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Like catching water in your hands.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-15339786057036806562023-11-23T08:17:00.007+11:002024-01-02T08:36:19.099+11:00<p><span style="font-size: large;">Mary had a little lamb,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Oh, no, she had the son of god.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The lamb of God.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is all the same fairy tale,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">when you follow the logic to the end.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lambs.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Gods.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Are you following along?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Everybody wants something greater to believe.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-40330717331465502902023-10-31T06:58:00.006+11:002023-11-04T16:01:03.597+11:00Shame<p><span style="font-size: large;">Someone scratched up the bonnet of my car.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">How bizarre,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">that someone would get pleasure from that?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They took a blade and scratched right into the paint,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">slashing across, and across,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">like that made them boss, I can only think.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Such little joy, one would presume.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Such little hope for humanity, for such delight,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as I day dreamed about that same blade,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">slashing their throat.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I wasn’t even ashamed, of the pleasure that thought gave.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Such is life.</span></p><div><br /></div>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-20901257114934952462023-10-05T07:26:00.006+11:002023-10-06T09:23:51.697+11:00What is a Man<p><span style="font-size: large;">Snakes and snails</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and puppy-dogs' tails.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dust and acid and at worst</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">dirt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The dry, parched fields,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">a day with no rain,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">sweat without yield,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">beauty without refrain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">fingernails too long,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">jocks on the pong,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">beer and nuts,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">power and guts,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">perfume and butts.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cum in a sock,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">bravado we can mock</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Alphas on the clock.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Betas take stock</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-44922524642165630882023-09-14T14:33:00.006+10:002023-11-04T16:04:08.140+11:00Meet You On The Top Of The Empire State Building<p><span style="font-size: large;">You changed. Oh, not very much, and probably nobody else</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">would have noticed, but I’m not anybody else. Well, I thought… </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And not that I was looking for it, but when it is just you and me,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">it’s not hard to notice. I know you intimately, I have for, oh</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">it’s been 20 years, this year, and in 20 years I’ve got to know you well.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I know your foibles and I know your joys. I know what you like </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and what you don’t. Oh yes, they are easy to spot, any change in them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well…</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We like the same things, you and me, and that is why you like me, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and I like you. People and parties are not really our thing, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">oh yes sometimes, of course, when we go hand in hand, when you</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">are with me, and I am with you, that is what you used to like, too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Me and you. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We’d bitch about the same things, and eschew the other things, and we’d make each other laugh with our very own brand of pig headedness. You and me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And there was change in those things, you wanted to go to the things we both used to point at and laugh. You wanted to mix with people at work do’s. Really? You stopped sharing the boring phone calls you had. Not that I ever wanted you too, share, but you would, anyway, and we’d both laugh, together. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And then you’d be gone and you’d offer no explanation, where you once told me everything, even the inconsequential bits. And I found myself wondering where you were, where I never had to wonder in the past where you were.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And, I guessed, you didn’t notice you changing because it was all exciting and new, for you. And I wouldn’t have begrudged you any of that, excitement, I’d be happy for you, if you told me, and I knew. It was still you and me, then, of course.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But you just left me sitting there on my own, alone, as though it didn’t matter, like you’d moved on and you just forgot to tell me, like you forgot to leave, like you’d changed and you’d forgotten to let me know.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Did you think I wouldn’t notice?</span></p><div><br /></div>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-42802442135967257902023-08-20T22:57:00.004+10:002023-09-15T12:31:28.786+10:00Things Of My Dreams<p><span style="font-size: large;">Gum drops and dinosaurs’ and ants with no knickers</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fruit trees and elephants and bombs with no tickers</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bread & butter pudding covered in cream</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">These are some of the things of my dreams</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cellophane and cherry cakes and buttons from the ages</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Star light and egg cups and books with crisp pages</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Leather couches stitched at the seems</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">These are some of the things of my dreams</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bulldogs and goulash and country houses with lakes</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Boxes and goblins and chocolate layer cakes</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Low slung sports cars in metallic green</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">These are some of the things of my dreams</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When the jerk speaks</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When the flu spreads</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I’m feeling sad</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I simply remember the things of my dreams</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And then I don’t feel so bad</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Bicycles and thrift shops and bears with exotic names</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Apple pies and blue skies and foreign cities to exclaim</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">And those little black shorts on football teams</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">These are some of the things of my dreams</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Peacocks and clowns and Sundays that never end</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Big hats and black suits and families that blend</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Teapots and sugar bowls in silver that gleams</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">These are some of the things of my dreams</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">A world where we’re all equal and afternoon tea cakes on trays</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Respect for everyone no matter which way they play</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Glorious sunshine that warms my bloodstream</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">These are some of the things of my dreams</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">When the jerk speaks</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">When the flu spreads</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">When I’m feeling sad</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">I simply remember the things of my dreams</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">And then I don’t feel so bad</span></div></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-4214368521739738762023-07-28T21:53:00.002+10:002023-09-15T12:33:59.092+10:00Wednesday Poem, Jack and Beau<p><span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday, what can I say?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is a good day,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">for realising what you did on the weekend,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">was not just drunken behaviour, per se,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">but really pretty fucken gay.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You and your buddy, Jack,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">that wasn't just boredom,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">or too many beers,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">that was pretty fucken queer.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not that I am pointing a finger,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">there should be more of it,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">there is more of it,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">just not a lot of talk about it</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">out loud.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You straight boys,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">with your big toys,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">when there are no girls around,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">you always come around,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to getting with each other,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">not that there is any bother,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">with that, brother,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">just what your other mates,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">down the footy club,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">might say, if they saw you and Jack,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">treat each other that way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lovely Jack, you and he,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">always the best of buds,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">you'd agree,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">he's got lovely eyes,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">you have always noticed, you can't deny,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and you'd do anything for him,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and on the weekend, you pretty much did.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In your arms, so disarmed,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">that you have always felt that way about him,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">especially when you are 6 to 10 beers in.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Beau said he liked it and would do it again,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">with you, he said, he’d do it again with you</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and that spun your head,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">when you’ve both only ever gone for girls,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and to your surprise, you liked Beau too,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">but you weren’t admitting to that taboo,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">oh no. But you did now think Beau was handsome,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">something you couldn’t explain. And Beau told you</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">that you were just so good looking, he had to say</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">not really in a way that was gay, but matter of fact,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">although after what you’d both just done,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">how could he not say it was… er… let’s say fun?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-4530831713443865502023-07-15T11:11:00.007+10:002023-09-17T08:00:30.946+10:00Creeping Up On Me<p><span style="font-size: large;">I see my reflection in a shop window</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and I see the failure of time</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as a crime all over my face.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then I look away, and hurry off</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">hoping the face looking back at me</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">won’t catch up to me any time soon.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Because it sneaks up on you,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as if out of nowhere, </span><span style="font-size: large;">leaving you </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">wondering where the hell did that come from?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-52027631871779390542023-07-08T11:11:00.002+10:002023-09-19T08:54:01.435+10:00Ageist Queer<p><span style="font-size: large;">Nobody likes an old queer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and those distasteful thoughts of geriatrics </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">taking it up the rear,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">where there is something dashing about a young gay,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">muscular legs getting fucked away,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">his handsome face calling out in joyous dismay.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-53063822266567371372023-07-01T09:45:00.001+10:002023-09-20T15:10:10.477+10:00That's All<p><span style="font-size: large;">You’ll become dust. I’ll </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">become dust. And then big blow,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">from the winds of time, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Ffffff.” And, that’s all,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as they say,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">there we’d go.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-44113653642329567742023-06-20T10:51:00.005+10:002023-09-20T15:09:54.824+10:00<p><span style="font-size: large;">The Liquid Amber</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">frail beauty falling to earth.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">All our broken hearts.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-11971029028787512272023-06-13T11:11:00.001+10:002023-09-20T15:09:29.348+10:00Good Luck<p><span style="font-size: large;">Some people say that you get what you need, in this life,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">they even say there is some mythical being</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">making sure you never get more than you want, or need.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The truth is, that you get what you get</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">in this life, here is your lot, enough, too much,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">they are not even considered, sink, or swim, here it is.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-66606285804732723442023-06-06T23:52:00.002+10:002023-09-20T15:08:38.004+10:00Write From Your Heart<p><span style="font-size: large;">Write from your heart,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">so it goes,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">isn't that what they say?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I try to listen to what my heart says,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">so I can tell you,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I want to, but,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">how do you do that?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't know what is in there.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But whenever I leave my head, it’s a trap door, clunk, to a void, there isn’t anything there.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Trying too hard, I’m trying to put my brain into my chest.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-42187893077740199692023-06-03T10:04:00.008+10:002023-09-20T15:15:38.895+10:00Barbara Allerding<p><span style="font-size: large;">“Barbara, I have two beautiful bulldogs.”</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What I would have given for you to see them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh John, they are beautiful,” you’d say,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">drawing both your hands up to the sides of your face.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Your look of the purest joy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I’ve got Bulldogs, you had Bassett Hounds,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">for all those years I drove your car around.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A Mini Cooper S, Mk1. BRG.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As I lay in front of my open fire, today,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">on this winter’s day of June,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I suddenly realised, I will never,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful smile,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as you say those words.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I’m just going to have to dream </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">of that moment,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">now forever,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">instead.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-68148405428226217852023-05-31T09:11:00.002+10:002023-09-20T15:08:05.614+10:00Talking Point <p><span style="font-size: large;">Woke must be the biggest joke</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">ever perpetuated against society.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The conservatives, and the bigots, and the racists</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">commandeering a bogey man against which to rail,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">so, they can go on talking their bigotry unabashed</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">with ‘woke’ meaning anything they want.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-19285746069611752702023-05-15T17:23:00.003+10:002023-09-20T15:07:27.413+10:00Double Standard Bigotry<p><span style="font-size: large;">A dick goes in your son’s mouth</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and that makes you feel disgusted,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">you say?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Do you ever think about the dick </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">that goes in your daughter’s mouth?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No, I guess you don’t,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">hey?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I hate to be so crude, but there is no other way</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">for that to be said, to say,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am telling you about the same love,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as anyone else, but so many of you go there</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and that is why, to you, it is so queer,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">it is your problem not ours.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bigoted politicians tweet vile messages,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">which are universally condemned, by all and sundry</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">but then they say, in their defence we don't know </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">how men feel, </span><span style="font-size: large;">but we do know, how real men deal</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">they don't care about being bigoted,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">to hide their prejudice away,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">real men hug their friends and their sons </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">in exactly the same way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-30522238636572142822023-05-07T20:46:00.003+10:002023-09-20T15:06:23.175+10:00Good Times <p><span style="font-size: large;">I feel like crap. Big weekend</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Had good times. All the clubs I attend.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I danced under the lights.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I shared pills out of sight.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">New mates I met for the night</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Best clubbing buddies instantly tight.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The cubicle door locked, one pissed, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The toilet system wiped, one sniffed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On to the roof deck we drift</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some guy sucking shots off a comatose girl’s midriff</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As her boyfriend showed polaroid’s of her snatch</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not sure who he was trying to attract.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I kissed in the shadows.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">With the dark, sweaty fellow</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We made eye contact as we danced</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Him just wearing black pants</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He smelt like a man</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He had big warm hands</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">DJ one, DJ two. Deep house groove</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We did things in the dark no one’s mother would approve</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That sweet boy’s heart I theft</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vomiting in the gutter as I left</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Wiping spittle from our mouths</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">as the taxi stopped we shout.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the back seat, we held hands</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At home, I got to pull off his pants</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He left as the sun came up</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Clothes back on, not a wash</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I smiled and felt his beard rash.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hours later when I was awake</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My mouth was dry and my head ached.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2253403056914386636.post-50787142735547956662023-04-27T11:11:00.003+10:002023-09-20T15:04:35.705+10:00Inequality<p><span style="font-size: large;">Increasingly, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">the police </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">make up a barricade </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">between those who have more than they could ever need, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">and those who have less than nothing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>FletcherBeaverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11032390523985607979noreply@blogger.com0