Body Piercing

[Ymir]

Body piercing has been banned in schools,
With the exception of the ears,
If this wasn't done by us,
There'd be piercings in their rears.
Besides, the oldest of our kids is thirteen,
Really too young for such things,
Piercing has many decisions,
And the responsibilities that brings.
Although one child amused me recently,
Plain for all to see,
He had his eyebrow pierced,
Held open by a golf tee.
I called him into the office,
Inquired if he new the rules,
That piercings were not appropriate,
Did he think us fools?
"Oh no, Mr Ymir, I know you're not a fool,
But you have to see,
This is not a piercing,
It's just a golf tee."
Without warning I reached behind,
And put a ball on it's top,
I asked him not to tremble,
And for all movement to stop.
He smiled at me sheepishly,
And had seen the joke,
He thought it was ending there,
But there was still more fun to poke.
Then I grabbed a golf club,
See, I was ready for this guy,
I would up behind my head,
And was ready to let fly.
He jumped backwards in a flash,
The tee he pulled from his brow,
And our school piercing policy,
Is adhered to unquestioningly now.

Cheers

[Booka]

Thats different, I like it

[Ymir]

Melting Moments

You look up at me with those great big eyes,
"Can you play with me?"
I cannot refuse your request,
Your delight's plain to see.
You smile at me and whisper,
"I love you, Dad."
You remind me that these moments,
Are the best I've ever had.
You lie in my arms and smile,
"You're the best Dad."
I'm honoured to be a parent,
And to make you happy, glad.
You come into the lounge asking,
"Can I use the bumbooter? (computer)"
I realize that some things are timeless,
Like not giving yourself a shitty word to rhyme with.

Cheers

[Booka]

Mate, do you make these ya self? they are rather good

[v8falconsrule]

hahaha bumbooter i love some of the words kids come up with.

great poems old mate, keep 'em coming.

[ieatsports_cars]

i 2nd that !

[Ymir]

Originally Posted by Booka

Mate, do you make these ya self? they are rather good

G'day there Booka mate,
Yes they're really mine,
They let me download my thoughts,
And held me pass the time.
They give the world particular focus,
It's my territory,
I love to write a good falcon poem,
As you can plainly see.

Good 'nuff?

Cheers

[Ymir]

An Ongoing Erection

For days now I've been building,
A yard for the family hounds,
We live on five unfenced acres,
When loose the dogs can't be found.
I reckoned carefully a good size,
Got prices from the local store,
Ordered it with great care,
This was to be a palace and more.
I measured the dimensions carefully,
Then did it twice,
This enclosure had it all,
It was going to be so nice.
I ensured there was shade aplenty,
And things for them to do,
A bored dog will go crazy,
Then pass it on to you.
So, I bashed in posts and pickets,
Strung up 400 metres of wire,
Tied it off neatly and carefully,
Though rivers I did perspire.
I added the wire netting,
Tensioning it to perfection,
Tied it off strategically,
The result of meditative reflection.
I added a water area for frolicking,
And for the dogs to drink,
A dog house and a feeder,
And that was it, I think.
Then I added the dogs,
To their place of great expense,
One dog was very happy,
The other jumped THROUGH the fence.
The little bugger is quite small,
And nimble on his feet,
But he's smaller than I thought,
And can escape in a heart beat.
So, more wire will now be ordered,
Smaller stuff can be found,
And if that solution doesn't work,
I'll nail the little bastard down.

Cheers

[ieatsports_cars]

tell your wife i didnt mean to scare her today when i beeped my horn at her ! tell helen iam sorry

[ieatsports_cars]

i love that poem by the way ! reminds me when our two lovely staffys used to run away. We had to put concrete under the fences !

[Ymir]

Busted

Last night I grabbed my guitar,
I'm afraid I'd had a few,
And decided to play something different,
Something excitingly new.
So, with muscles coiled and bunched,
I hammered out the chords,
I ran up and down the frets,
Dancing across the fret boards.
I played fast and with energy,
The sound was really smokin',
When everything abruptly ceased,
With three strings bent and broken.
The moral of the story's simple,
And take it to the letter,
Fast and hard can have it's place,
But cool and gentle's better.

True – my poor guitar. Still, I now have zippy new strings and the sound is so much brighter. It’s an ill wind …

Cheers

[Ymir]

Rain

The wind caresses the wearied flora,
Massaging their stressed exterior,
Rain has been scarce lately,
But the air carries an expectant promise.
The wind dies off with abrupt intensity,
Humidity strangles the air,
The earth and its dwellers hold their breath,
It seems prayers will be answered.
The sky darkens with gradual determination,
The clouds assembling in order,
They agree to disseminate their burdens,
Gently, but then with urgency.
The earth sighs its passionate thanks,
Young animals somewhat confused,
The rain renews faith in Nature,
As a benevolent force.
Water burbles and bubbles excitedly,
Soaking, seeping, running rampant,
The tired and dusty film clinging to everything,
Is replaced by a vibrant sheen.
The water runs down leaves and branches,
Forming miniature torrents on trunks,
That run down the parched bark,
And form burgeoning foam at the base.
People run naked outside with arms upstretched,
Allowing themselves to be bathed,
Taking a heathen joy at the gift,
Offered to alleviate their depression.
Crops are saved or at least reprieved,
Animals slated for slaughter or sale,
Given another chance at continued life,
As they can now be fed.
Children waltz at their fortunes,
Adults smile and remember,
Wondering why they stopped doing that,
Then join in, laughing.
Dams swell with unabating vigor,
Replacing dinner plate cracks,
With cool, clear water,
Then teeming aquatic life.
For now the memory of dryness recedes,
As life languishes in liquid,
But hard times will eventually return,
So we can appreciate the good.

We hadn’t had rain for 7 weeks and things were very dry and dead. Then, we got 10 inches in four days. This poem was an attempt to capture the way that I felt.

Cheers

[Ymir]

Friday Afternoon

The fan is giving me a tempo,
My bladder's at the top,
The clock is counting down the seconds,
Until this agony can stop.
I can't leave just at the moment,
What will they think of me?
If the principal leaves before the kids,
It's not even three!
But Friday is at its completion,
A good week's work I reckon,
I can taste the bourbon waiting,
As the weekend begins to beckon.
I know I should stay longer,
I know I'm getting slack,
I think I'll create a diversion,
And sneak out 'round the back.

Cheers

[Ymir]

Mowing

The rain had been thick and constant,
The world covered in grass,
It was growing absolutely everywhere,
I suspect even on my .
The mower had been standing idle,
Not needed in the drought,
But now it was expected to perform,
Beyond the shadow of a doubt.
I straddled the machine with deliberation,
Let off a nervous fart,
I prayed to God it would operate,
That this monstrosity would start.
It awakened with a reluctant roar,
Black bile belching out,
I punched the air with my delight,
And pealed off a mighty shout.
We thundered over hill and gully,
Leaving mulch behind,
We mowed everything in our path,
We mowed all that we could find.
A cane toad hopped away furiously,
For it's life it did beg,
We hit it at twenty miles and hour,
Its remnants showering my leg.
I zapped around fallen logs,
The speed set to high,
I slalomed through the native trees,
Until one poked me in the eye.
I mowed the back of the dam,
Letting forth thunderous peals,
Until for a moment I lost control,
And was up on two wheels.
Vertigo clammily clasped my spine,
I thought I was in a dream,
That I'd joined an evil circus,
And was in the Precision Driving Team.
Time slowed down, then slowed again,
Like it never had before,
I was able to gain control,
And continue on wheels numbering four.
I admit I had been scared,
My Chi had bullied my Zen,
But next time 'round I went faster,
So that I could do that stunt again.
I was levelling grass and branches,
From the tiny to the fat,
Until I stopped paying attention,
And mowed my sunglasses and my hat.
I stopped to refuel my maniacal machine,
It was surely running low,
I added some lubricant and some methanol,
To give it that extra go.
I continued to level all before us,
Over five acres did we roam,
Until I got off to get some plastic,
And the mower went on alone.
It bore a grudge for its rough treatment,
Retribution made it feel fine,
I'm not as fast as my blasphemous beast,
Now I have toes numbering nine.

Most of this is true – the need to mow after lots of rain, the going up on two wheels, the black smoke when it started, chasing toads, running over my hat, getting poked in the eye. I lead such an interesting life, sometimes …

Cheers

[ieatsports_cars]

lol ! can we swap lives lol i wish i had one just as interesting and eventurious, its about time some added some thing to the maryborough ford club ! another fantastic poem by ymir nice work !

[Ymir]

You Fill Up My Senses

I love the way your eyes see me,
Reflecting our good natured fun,
They way they promise without fear,
And see the good times to come.
I love the way your nose wrinkles,
Drinking in every scent,
Matching them to our life together,
And of the places that we went.
I love the way your ears strain,
To capture every sound,
The giggles, the whispers, the moans and laughter,
In my pleasures you abound.
I love the way you taste the moment,
And savour every bite,
The way you appraise every morsel,
From the break of day to night.
I love the way you touch my skin,
With revered eccentricity,
You transform me with your touch,
And its electricity.
You fill up my senses so completely,
In ways I can't explain,
I hope I'm not like John Denver,
And crash in a light plane.

Cheers