Pomes

Index of the Pomes Page

Some of these Pomes contain profanity. Swear words! They are, in my opinion, tastefully executed swear words and add emphasis and/or humor to the Pome. If swear words make you explode or break out in some rash, don't read them. Better still, piss off!

Poetry by Choco

BORRIS

© Choco Munday, 1994

Oh! Pussycat with soft, white fur
Let me hear you meow and purr;
While Mum writes the vet a cheque
Jump up here and lick my neck.

My pussycat, if you could talk
I know you'd say I was a dork.
It's bad enough with a Dad called Morris
But whoever heard of a cat named Borris?

I'd love to let you out the door
To stop you spewing on the floor
But I'm not one for doing favours
For cats who visit all the neighbours.

Please don't eat my Mummy's chairs
And try to stop your moulting hairs.
Don't jump onto the bench in the kitchen
And make my Dad start shoutin' and bitchin'.

I saw you open the sliding door
With your itty bitty paw
So you could jump into the sink
And have an early morning drink.

Oh! Pussycat you made me cry
When you hurt your little eye
And even though we doctored you
You'll never see as good as new.

You make me laugh, you silly moggie!
When you're barking like a doggy
And jumping three feet off the ground
If, by chance, a moth you've found.

You cheeky cat, I see you sneaking
At the window where you're peeking
Waiting there till we come home
Hoping for a chicken bone.

You make my Mummy very furious
Because you're always very curious;
Checking this and sniffing that,
You're such a nosy little cat!

Oh! Pussycat, you're such a dreamer
(Until we get the vacuum cleaner).
Having you is such a thrill,
I Love you now, and always will.

for Kristy, Feb 1994

The Tale of Dingly Dell

© Choco Munday, 1991

A Shepherd's life in Dingly Dell
Is peaceful, pure and whole;
The clean, fresh air,
On days so fair
Gives strength to enrich the soul.

Dennis was a shepherd boy
Who lived in Dingly Dell;
He loved his sheep,
Some say too deep,
But he surely kept them well.

Dennis was loved by all the folks
Who lived around the vale;
Though big and strong,
He never did wrong;
His heart was as big as a whale.

Now Dennis had a secret love
She ran the railway station.
Her golden hair
And skin so fair
Bellied her occupation.

Her name was Heidi Florentine
And Dennis loved her dearly;
Each night at eight
He'd pass her gate
To hear her singing clearly.

Now Heidi had a special place
For Dennis, in her heart;
She wondered why
He was so shy
And when he'd make a start!

Each night she'd see him walking home
From dipping, crutching and docking;
She'd sing her tune
Of love in June
And hope he'd come a-knocking.

Poor Dennis fought within himself
To ask her for a date;
But at the station
To his frustration
He couldn't get past the gate!

When shearing time came 'round in Spring
There was cause for celebration;
The springtime dance
Was just the chance
For Dennis to stop at the station.

So late that night he found himself
Outside the station gate;
The cold, crisp night
The stars so bright-
He'd put his trust in fate!

A distant noise broke through the night,
A light flickered down the track;
The Ten O'clock train
Was late again,
So Heidi was working back.

The late night train pulled up with a screech
And Heidi turned to signal it;
But Bob the conductor
Had plans to abduct her
And Heidi tore his singlet.

With a cackling laugh he left her there,
Bespoiled and sobbing sadly;
As the train pulled clear
She heard Bob sneer,
"You can keep the singlet, gladly!"

Dennis heard the train alright
But the noise drowned Heidi's crying;
Then some strange feeling
Sent him wheeling
To where his love was lying.

Dennis' heart was in his mouth
As he mounted platform two;
"My God!" he said
"Please don't be dead,
I've yet to say I love you!"

Heidi didn't die that night,
But the shock near snuffed her completely;
When he laid her head
On the hospital bed,
He removed the blue singlet discreetly.

He returned to the station with blood in his eyes
To review the conductor's roster;
He wanted to see
Who could possibly be
His true love's perverted accoster.

Now the railway stop at Dingly Dell
Was a link for parcels and messages;
Each driver was paired,
So their duties were shared
Between driving and checking the passengers.

It took but a minute for Dennis to see
That the train would soon be returning;
He switched the lines back
To a little used track,
And waited, his anger still burning.

When Dennis' rage had reached its peak
He heard the train whistle blow;
Then the train slowed down
As it passed through the town,
It was time for Dennis to go!!

The train braked hard and screeched to a stop,
The driver looked pained and confused;
"This isn't the track on
Which I'm to go back on,
It's hardly ever been used!"

Dennis jumped up to the engine room door,
Which startled the driver quite ample;
"I'm not here to scare ya,
I'm after the wearer
Of the singlet which matches this sample".

"The last time I saw a blue singlet like that",
Said the driver, recovering from shock;
"Was on back of a person
Filling in for Macpherson,
He gets off, when he's finished, next stop."

When Dennis explained what had happened, in brief,
The driver said he would assist him;
"The guy's name is Bob,
He's asleep on the job,
When we've finished I'm going to sack him."

They found the conductor asleep on the floor
At the back of the dining car suite;
He was gently awoken
As his fingers were broken
Then Dennis hauled him up to his feet.

His struggling and screaming was brought to a stop
As Dennis looked into his eyes;
"Your ten second shag
When you lost this blue rag
Will probably be your demise!"

Bob knew in an instant what fate had in store
And he cringed and whimpered and cowered;
He was dragged by his hair
To the cold night air
By the man whose true love he'd deflowered.

The train driver left and continued his run
As Dennis hauled Bob through the Dell;
He had every intention
To seek Police intervention,
But first he must end Heidi's hell.

He dragged the assailant to the hospital doors,
The night nurse stood scared and distraught;
"This scumbag conductor
Is Heidi's abductor,
I want her to see that he's caught!"

The night nurse knew Dennis and knew he was right,
So they dragged Bob up next to the bed
Where Heidi was lying,
Her eyes red from crying,
Her featureless face almost dead.

Her face remained blank for a moment or two,
Then her eyes opened wider and clearer;
As the trance fell away
All she did was to say
"Oh, please! Oh no, Please! Don't come nearer!"

The night nurse ran over to where Heidi lay,
She was yelling out blasphemes and curses;
She looked Bob in the eye
And said "Let's you and I
Have some practice at Doctors and nurses!"

The night nurse and Dennis let Heidi exact
Her revenge on that cowardly scum;
The Police never questioned,
The courts never mentioned
How Bob's nuts ended up in his bum!

Bob went to prison for ten long years,
All the inmates were really quite pleased.
Bob never worked out
How they found out about
The cut and the tuck he'd received.

Heidi recovered and went back to work
And Dennis went back to his flock;
But each night at eight
He'd open her gate
And walk up to her front door and knock!

The sands of time soon faded away
The memory of Bob and his leer;
But still the night view
Along platform two
Would make Heidi tremble with fear.

Heidi could never feel safe and secure
While working on platform two;
So when Dennis asked nice
She didn't think twice,
Her next words after that were "I DO!"

Well that's the story of Dennis the shepherd
And Heidi the railway hand.
She now earns her keep
Castrating sheep
While Dennis just works on the land.

So if you're wandering through Dingly Dell
And the 10 O'Clock train whistle calls;
Remember that night,
Be nice and polite,
And you might come away with your balls!

Choco.

The Tavern From Hell

© Choco Munday, 1992

There's a Tavern at the Gates of Hell
Where drinks are free and the food is swell,
Where girls are loose and the bar staff tight
And you can party day and night.

The choking smoke and constant din
Will often coax a traveller in,
And though there is no entry toll
The price to leave is a mortal soul.

A Liddiard boy whose name was Mark
Was skipping through the leafy park.
He noticed not the evil air,
For this one's soul was pure and fair.

"Come within and sup with me"
The fair maid cried enticingly.
"Well thanks" said Mark, all shy and red,
"I could do with a piece of jam and bread!"

So in he went to the Inn of Hades,
Amongst the rabble and loose young ladies.
Wine and song and a jolly old giggle
With a break now and then for a slap and a tickle.

For Forty nights he frolicked and boozed
When Old Nick came for his regular dues.
"Your soul to keep is my rightful duty"
All Mark said was "You Fucking Beauty!!!"

Mark stood up and faced the Devil
A bit unsteady and not too level.
"You want my soul to leave this place?
"You must be off your fucking face!!"

The Devil gave an evil leer
And said "Well Mark, you must stay here!"
With that Mark grinned and turned about.
"In that case, it's my fucking shout!!"

So if you hear a rebel yell
Coming from the gates of hell
It's only Mark, cheating fate
He went to Hell, it's fucking great!!!

SUBURBANITE'S LAMENT

© Choco Munday, 1993

Every light in the house is on,
All the dishes are still in the sink;
I'm as sick as a dog
But I can't have a bog
'Cos the sewers are all on the blink!

I can't find my wallet, my keys or my pen,
Some arsehole has stolen my bag;
The laundry tap leaks,
The bedroom door squeaks
And these daks make me look like a dag!

There's chewing gum stuck on the sole of my shoe,
My finger got jammed in the door;
My goldfish are dead,
There's no hair on my head
And I found a big hole in the floor!

I've run out of toothpaste, I've run out of soap,
I've got no more fresh bread or honey;
When I went to the shop
To replenish my stock
I found I had run out of money!

My car broke down on my way home from work,
So I went to find some one to fix it;
By the time I got back
All the tyres were flat
And I got me a parking ticket.

My letterbox bulges with junk mail and bills
Neither of which make good reading
And to make me feel stupid
My house just got looted
While the Neighbourhood Watch had a meeting.

The dog bit my hand when I fed him his tea
So I kicked him fair up the arse!
He jumped to his feet
Ran out on the street
And under the wheels of a bus!

I went to the pub and ordered a beer
And glanced at the barmaid's tits;
With petite charm and grace
The bitch slapped my face
And her knee mashed my balls into bits!

So I staggered on home with tears in my eyes,
It was time I was going to bed;
When I opened my door
I slipped on the floor
And I've fallen flat on my head.

I opened my eyes and the rain's pouring down
While the neighbour's dog licks at my face;
Then the hound cocks his leg
Tries to piss on my head -
I've got to get out of this place!!!

I've sold the old house, I'm packing my stuff
And I'm leaving the suburbs for good.
At least, in the sticks,
I won't get the shits
Except when I reckon I should!

The Robin

As I woke this morning,
When all things sweet are born,
A Robin perched upon my sill
To hail a happy morn.

He was so sweet and fragile
And so sweetly did he sing,
That thoughts of joy and happiness
To my heart did spring.

I wondered if the Robin's song
Could calm a raging sea;
Or make two lover's hearts as one
And set their spirits free.

I clambered out from 'neath the sheets
As music filled the room;
My breast was swelled with peace and love
As the Robin trilled its tune.

I smiled so sweetly to myself
As I paused beside the bed
And gently pulled the window down
And smashed his fuckin' head!

Anon.

The Snot Police

© Choco Munday, 1993

As I drove home last Thursday night,
My eyes beheld an awesome sight;
There was a man in a bright yellow Volvo
A finger in his nose right up to his elbow!

The man, to me, looked vaguely familiar;
What he was doing looked rather peculiar;
Picking one's nose is intolerably gruesome,
The Volvo made it a gruesome twosome.

I pulled up quick and did a U-ey,
Slipped in a puddle of something gooey
I looked at the road, I saw the slick,
The snot everywhere made me feel rather sick.

I spun my wheels in the glutinous tar,
Straightened her up and chased after the car.
Hot on his heels, I hunched my shoulders
Dodging boogers as big as boulders!

I turned a corner, dodging snot,
I couldn't believe how much snot he'd got!
The human body can't match this pace
This guy must be from outer space!

I punched a number on my mobile phone
Hoping my Snot Police were home;
"Snot Police" came the invocation
"State your name and your true location".

"I'm travelling east on highway two
Dodging snot slicks as sticky as glue,
The offenders Volvo's in front of me
The license reads S-N-O-T !!"

"I say again, please state your name!"
The Snot Police asked me again.
"My name is Detective Inspector Quigly,
Now please dispatch a Snot Squad quickly!!"

"Of course, sir, immediately, excellent choice,
Sorry I didn't recognise your voice.
Scramble Snot Squad on the run!!
Join pursuit with Snot Chief One".

The Snot Squad came to take up the chase
I slowed and let them handle the case
They skilfully dodged the offending slop
And soon forced the Volvo to come to a stop.

The Snot Police stopped and jumped from the wagon,
They wore rubber suits in case of a slag-on,
Their guns were all aimed at the snot-maker's head
The squad leader raised his bull-horn and said:

"Please exit the vehicle, hands in the air"
The man got out - was arrested right there.
They read him his rights, they were thorough but brief
Then gave him a clean, white handkerchief.

The offender was given an on-the-spot fine
A mop and a bucket to clean up his crime.
He got enough tissues to last him a year
And anti-biotics to help his head clear.

So if you're driving one bright, sunny day
And you carelessly let your old forefinger stray
Remember to watch for the flashing green lights
When the Snot Police get you right in their sights!

Frogsundogs

© Choco Munday, 1993

Ice oar rannolmanoo clekted frogs
Un-punched dim inner face;
Cus wenneye sore rim kickinnadogs
I criedore lowvada place.

Snot darway ya showya care,
Kickanna dogs inna guts;
Yappaddumun huggemen brush darehair
Untellum dare cute liddlemutts.

Eeseddis frog wuzquished terbits,
Eethort a doggud dunnit;
I toldim frogs give dogsashits
A froggud maykim vomit!

Eesed 'Oryare? Yarrekkunmate?'
An gave medog a froggy;
'I betcha if we waitenwait,
That frog stay sinya doggy!'

We waited till the sun went down,
An so I sedise sorry.
Elarfed an smacked me interda ground
Unrunnover me wivva lorry!

Then azzee larfden drove away,
Medog threw upis tummy;
He looked at me as if tasay
'Those froggys ain't too yummy!'

I'll catch that dog with a bitta luck,
An I'll shuvvabig toad upisbum!
Fergettin me hit by a bloody big truck
An makin me look really dum!

So never go runnin alone inna dark,
Or jump inna sea anget drowned;
Annever go walkinnadogs innapark
Where froggiesar jumpin around!!

The Rocker

© Choco 1994

When my ducktail's dripping with Californian Poppy
And my knees start to tremble when I hear a rockin' jockey;
I grab my wrap around shades to hide my little peepers
Then it's off to the hop to see the Atomic Creepers!

These blue suede shoes with the two inch sole
Are ready for a night of jivin' rock 'n' roll.
Got my studded belt on, got my shoe string tie,
Got my black drain-pipe pants with the button-up fly.

I fire up the Hemi in my 36 Ford
And ease into the traffic with the gas pedal floored.
With the radio blaring and the blower screaming loud
I cruise on down the highway through the 9 to 5 crowd.

I head down to the mall where my girl is a-waitin'
She won't tell her folks it's me she's a-datin'
They wouldn't understand why Daddy's pride and joy
Was cruisin' to the hop with a Rockabilly boy!

I cruise the streets searching for a Volvo at the lights,
With one eye on the mirror and the other on her tights
The engine's getting hotter and the fuel is getting low
So I bag 'em up just one more time and head out for the show.

The rockers get together in the car park at the hop
The tyre smokin's finished 'cos some one called a cop;
We go into the dance club to rock and stomp our feet
Jivin' to the music with the Rockabilly beat.

You'll always be a Rocker with an Ed Roth shirt;
You couldn't rock 'n' roll without a poodle on a skirt,
You'd never leave your house without your drapes or your sneakers
And life on earth would end without the ATOMIC CREEPERS!!!

The Legend of Graeme Thomas

© Choco Munday, 13 Aug 1997

On those cold, crisp nights ‘round Gunning
When the dingos’ calls are clear,
You can hear the truckies yarning
Over campfires, drinking beer.
The stories told are many,
The story tellers few;
Though listening may be agony,
The yarns they spin are true.

One night a truckies convoy
Set camp up for a steak
Off the freeway out of Woy Woy
To have a well earned break.
Graeme led the trucks in line
To their favourite parking station;
He’d led these rigs a thousand times
Across this mighty nation.

In singlets blue like truckies suits
They laughed and joked around
While rubbing hands and stomping boots
On the cold and frosty ground.
They’d barely started sizzling
The bangers, steaks and chops
When some of them started Grizzling
About "Those fuckin’ cops!"

Before the other truckies there
Yelled "Shut ya fuckin’ mouth!"
A sound broke through the still night air
Coming from the South.
The sound was like no other rig
These men had heard before,
The grinding gears like a screaming pig,
The exhaust like a dying whore!

Two headlights pierced the gloomy night
As the truck rolled up right there
It slowed to a crawl then pulled to the right
As the brakes rent the still night air.
The big diesel clattered, it jumped and shook
As it idled down to a halt.
Then with a belch of thick, black soot
The engine stopped with a jolt.

The old Mack leaked water, grease and oil
Its paint was chipped and scratched,
The chrome was peeled from too much toil,
Its tyres were bald and patched.
In silence stood the phantom Mack
As mist rolled round its rims;
No sound came from the darkened cab,
No movement from within.

A truckie raised a shaking hand
To point at the driver within,
His ashen face was pale and bland
His voice was cracked and thin.
"Of all the rigs from sea to sea,
From the cities to the outback;
There’s none that strikes more fear in me
Than the Devil’s big black Mack!"

The truckies glanced at one another
Some soiled their short black dacks;
One whimpered softly for his Mother
While most stop dead in their tracks.
For all who drive to earn a buck
Know when their time is due,
When Old Nick winds up in his truck
He’s come to transport you!

Now Graeme was a legend
Within the truckies clan;
They say one night he flattened
Two-Bob Cobb and broke his hand.
But Graeme’s knees were trembling
At the sight of the big black Mack,
His mind was fast remembering
When he went to Hell and back.......

He’d stripped a lousy retread
One night on Highway One;
It’s the thing long distance truckies dread
But soon the job was done.
Then as he packed his gear away
He heard a familiar sound,
A big old Mack diesel’s bray
Made him turn around.

A big black truck was bearing down
Slowing as if to stop.
The sight of it made Graeme frown
And caused his heart to flop.
The legend of the phantom rig
Came to his mind once more...
"The gears sound like a screaming pig,
The exhaust like a dying whore!"

The black paint sucked the feeble light
That came from the moon and stars;
The colder air, the darker night,
No buses, trucks or cars.
Then from within the darkened cab
There came an evil voice;
"Come on in, me truckin’ lad,
Ye' haven’t got a choice!"

Graeme knew the stories well,
And of the Devil’s calling;
But Graeme wasn’t going to hell,
He found the thought appalling!
"Get thee hence!" he cried aloud,
"You phantom highway drifter!
If you don’t go then how’d
You like a piece of ten inch shifter?!"

Graeme lunged at the ghostly cab
Like a vengeful fighting machine.
"Piss off, you driving demon scab!"
And smashed the Mack’s windscreen!
He knew the truckies legends well
And that the driver’s prison
Was there within his small black cell
From where the Devil had risen.

A blinding flash, an eerie sound
Was all that Graeme recalled;
He barely remembered feeling the ground
When back to his truck he crawled.
But he knew this night would someday come
‘Twas the Devil who set the dates;
But not when his chops were almost done,
And not in front of his mates!

So there in the parking station
Off the freeway late that night,
We saw the confrontation
‘Twixt the Darkness and the Light.
We were all too scared to run or yell,
And then, from all reports,
Graeme walked up to the truck from Hell
And pulled his shifter from his shorts!

From deep within the Devil’s lair
There came a rumbling sound,
A filthy stench filled the cold night air
As he wound the window down.
A pustulant, gnarly, wrinkled fist
Emerged from the truck from Hades,
Attached to an arm of rotting grist
With the middle finger raised.

Then the engine from the truck of death
Roared loudly in the night,
In fear the truckies held their breath
And clenched their butt cheeks tight!
"I’ll get you yet, you son of a bitch!"
Cried the Devil, "On one of your voyages!"
"Ahhh! Go and bite your arse, ya prick!"
Replied Graeme as he pricked his sausages.

The big truck shuddered and almost stalled
But then picked up its pace,
The truckies cheered, they were all enthralled
As they watched it leave this place.
They stuffed themselves with chops and beer,
There’d be no truckin’ tonight!
For this was a night of grace and cheer
It was Graeme’s night, alright!

So now you truckies on Highway One
Can travel both safer and swifter,
Be courteous, kind and never be glum,
And carry a ten inch shifter!
The Devil’s gone with his Hellish rig,
We’ll hear that sound no more,
Of the gears that sound like a screaming pig
And the exhaust like a dying whore!

Taffy and the Cricket Pitch

© Choco Munday, 2003

Up the track from Noonama, out back 'o Humpty Doo
Behind a wall of Rangoon cane where mango trees once grew
There used to be a cricket pitch, carved from the red-brown earth,
We never played much cricket there, well, none, for what it's worth.

On Friday nights at 10 O'Clock when the last drinks bell rings twice
We'd make a run for the bottle-o and the two bob bags of ice,
We'd load the lot in Mad Mick's ute (he ran the pub, you see)
And head out for the cricket pitch for another midnight spree.

We had to cross a wide dirt road and a set of railway lines
Then find the path through the wall of cane and dodge the buffalo mines,
Then there it was, the "Cricket Pitch" like a park all mowed and snazzy
In a natural field of buffalo grass about the size of Tassie.

Those of us in utes and cars would circle around to the right
Then pull up next to the Yum-Yum tree where we'd hung a big floodlight,
Then as the rest trudged in on foot we'd find some jumper leads
And volunteer some poor sod's car to supply our lighting needs.

Now most of us were locals, with homes not far from here
The longest drive for anyone took one full can of beer,
But soon we started getting folks from pubs both near and far
From Baggot Creek and Humpty Doo and the boys from the Berrimah.

Not one of us remembers how the stock car race evolved
Whoever had the very first run is a mystery still unsolved,
But soon a rutty, dusty track was carved around the edge
With a dog leg in the middle where it curved around a hedge.

Instead of quietly parking like we always used to do
A couple of lads picked up the pace and raced a lap or two,
It wasn't long before the men were sorted from the boys
Old utes and farmhacks couldn't catch the GT V8 toys!

I reckon it was them Navy blokes both big and loud of mouth
With their hot rods and their racers they brought with them from down south.
They were arrogant and cocky, full of bullshit, coke and rum
But the cricket pitch had never seen so many have such fun!

Now I know there were some locals who resented this invasion
Resulting in some fisticuffs, I recall, on one occasion.
But soon we learned to get along, and fun times was the norm
By geez, couldn't them Navy blokes sing up a bloody storm!

One night we were relaxing, the ratbag's race was run
We'd started down to spinning yarns and drinking beer and rum.
When through the dark there came a sound like we'd never heard before
A distant rumble filled the air, then became a mighty roar!

One of the Navy lads went pale, then pointed at the void
Where the Rangoon cane was parting, saying "Here comes Taffy Lloyd!"
Through the gap, spitting flames orange, red and golden
Came the "Beast of Baggot Creek", Taffy's V8 Holden!

With a throaty growl and a clash of gears it hurtled 'round the track
Spewing plumes of dirt and shit like anti-aircraft flack.
In record time it reached the end and the HQ spun around
It's gleaming headlights pierced the air as its tyres bit the ground.

"Get behind the Yum-Yum tree!" came a panic stricken screech,
The car was bearing down on us at speeds not often reached.
Then just before it mowed us down as I thought it surely must
It turned around and slid to a halt in a cloud of smoke and dust.

Out of the car stepped Taffy Lloyd, and a hundred beer cans clattered,
He flashed a grin through missing teeth, his hair and beard were matted.
"Give us a beer, ya lousy prick" he said as he snatched a can
And sculled it down in just two gulps then laughed like a true madman.

"I lost me pipes as I crossed the tracks" he said, eyeing off me beer
So I passed him another of my green cans, as an act of country cheer.
"Thanks" he said as he popped the lid, "there's a slab in me fuckin' boot,
"But it's warm as pommy's piss, so can I throw them in your ute?"

Well, me an Taffy hit it off, he sure was a lot of fun
He could drink and swear and drive a car better than anyone.
He never had much luck with girls, he was ugly, brash and crude
But when he spoke to one of the wives he was funny, but never rude.

Friday nights at the cricket pitch then started out the same
Taffy would take on anyone who thought they had a claim.
But that red HQ with its big V8 would never stop or stall
And everyone could see they didn't stand a chance at all.

Now Taffy often raced his car at the Hidden Valley track
And all of us would come and watch as he whittled down the pack.
Drag racing was his chosen sport, and he was bloody good!
His rival was "Speed" Morgan, a notorious local hood.

Now Morgan had a sister for whom Taffy had the hots,
But Morgan never let them be, he hated Taffy lots.
And Speed was tough, cos I was told by a friend of his housekeeper
A "Speed Sartee" was 3 buffaloes impaled on a railway sleeper!

Poor Taffy couldn't win a trick, so I had to intervene
One day while they were racing, I got a message to Irene.
"Come over to the cricket pitch on any Friday night".
She said "Will Taffy Lloyd be there?" I said "He will, alright!"

The cricket pitch that Friday night had something in the air
Besides the stars and great big moon, it just felt like the country fair.
Then all the blokes went quiet, and the sheilas did the same
As Irene Morgan strolled out from the wall of Rangoon cane.

None of us had ever seen Irene in a blouse and skirt
She usually just  wore overalls, or jeans and a black T-shirt.
But she had legs that never stopped and a figure that made me moan
And the prettiest face we'd ever seen, now that her hair was combed.

"Is Taffy here?" she asked, as we tried not to notice her cleavage
"Er, no, not yet, would you like a beer?" was all that I could manage.
"Thanks" she said and then sat down, and crossed those lovely legs
Just as we heard Taffy's car crashing through the hedge.

He was just about to gun it, when he saw her at the table
And as she smiled and waved to him, he fast became unstable.
The car died to an idle, it was quite a sight to see
As Taffy parked his big HQ beneath the Yum-Yum tree.

We partied long and hard that night, we laughed until we cried
But there wasn't a single moment that Irene left Taffy's side.
Then later as the moon and stars reached their brightest gleam
Taffy stood and said "Can I take you home, Irene?"

She smiled and tossed her empty can into the rubbish bin
And followed Taffy to his car and let him help her in.
He started up his big red car with all its V8 power
And drove his new found love away at twenty miles an hour!

The next few weeks were like a blur, and every Friday eve
Taffy met his one true love beneath the Yum-Yum tree.
Then one dark night it happened, in a roar of burned methane
Speed Morgan came crashing through the wall of Rangoon cane.

Now Morgan's car was massive, a huge black Hemi Charger
Supercharged on Methanol, no other car was faster.
He had Taffy in his headlights, but Taffy didn't budge
And when that car came to a halt it gave his knees a nudge.

"Where's me fuckin' Sister?" he bellowed as he climbed out
Before Taffy could say anything, Speed Morgan laid him out.
250 pounds he weighed, and solid as a brick
Then Irene's voice cut through the night, "Leave him alone, you prick!"

Morgan stopped and turned as Irene stepped from Taffy's car,
She ran to where her sweetheart lay but didn't get too far.
Speed grabbed a handful of her hair and snarled into her face,
"You little bitch, don't you ever come back to this place!"

Irene just went ballistic and slapped her Brother's cheek,
It took him by surprise, sort of stumped him, so to speak.
He let her go and Irene rushed to be by Taffy's side
He blinked at her then smiled and said "Hey, baby, wanna ride?"

We all began to gather round, Irene was our inspiration,
Taffy stood and bravely faced the source of his frustration.
What he said next made me think the guy had come unhitched,
"O.K. Speed, let's have a race - one lap - the cricket pitch!"

Well, that was just pure madness, but Taffy had gone insane,
He said, "The loser must leave and never come back again."
Well Speed just laughed while Irene cried, and Taffy grabbed a beer
And said "Go start your piece of crap, the bullshit stops right here!"

They both fired up their monster cars, and all of us stood by
While Irene pulled her hanky out to have another cry.
She raised that tear-soaked hanky, then dropped it with a sob,
And both those cars took off with a God Almighty THROB!

Both sets of tyres dug in deep, spitting tons of dirt and rubble
As Taffy started making ground, I knew there would be trouble.
Speed Morgan's Dodge made so much grunt he'd find it hard to pass
So the sniveling cheating bastard ran right up Taffy's arse!

My heart jumped into my throat as Taffy missed a gear,
By the time his engine coughed to life, Speed had disappeared.
But Taffy gave it all he had and we all screamed "COME ON!"
And then he did the strangest thing, he flicked his high beams on!

Taffy gave his car some stick, we'd never heard the likes
He bore down on Speed like he had him in his sights!
Speed Morgan turned the corner, he easily had the edge
But missed the dog leg in the middle where it curved around the hedge!

While Speed fought the steering wheel, Taffy slid right past
Crossing the line way out in front with Morgan coming last.
Then all of us at the cricket pitch let out a mighty cheer
As Irene handed Taffy Lloyd a nice cold can of beer.

Speed Morgan's face was livid as he stormed across the pitch
Where Speed had left the track, his car had spun into a ditch.
I said to Taffy "Looks like Speed's got trouble with his sight."
Taffy said, "Yeah, must've been my aircraft landing lights!"

Speed Morgan never lived it down, and soon he went down South
To mix it with the city boys (who nicknamed him "The Mouth").
Irene Morgan bought the pub that Mad Mick used to own
I heard somewhere that Irene's Mum had guaranteed the loan.

We'd never hear the throaty roar of the Beast of Baggot Creek,
The local utes and farmer's hacks are all that will compete.
The number plates from Taffy's car are nailed up to a rafter,
And Taffy and Irene Lloyd lived happily ever after!

Straya

© Choco Munday, 2003

Yvonne Goolagong, didgeridoo, billabong.
Wobbegong, nulla-nulla, Walla Walla, Honour, Colour.
Merino, dingo, mango, wanker,
Woy Woy, Kangaroo, crocodile, damper.

Opera House, Hills Hoist, meat pie and pasty.
Bondi Beach, Fosters, a stone fish is nasty.
Vegemite, bully beef, triple fronted houses, 
Ginger beer, Germaine Greer, Big Girl's Blouses.

The Harbour Bridge, a barbequeue,
The Victa and a cockatoo.
Thongs, Hoges, Gough, donk,
Cardy, jumper, dinkum, plonk.

Custard, porridge, weeties, tripe,
Kakadoo, Ularoo, Polly-waffle, cherry-ripe.
Twisties, willy-willies, brandy, chasey,
Red dust, blue hills, cyclone Tracey.

Billy Thorpe, Cape York, a meat pie floater, 
Bull's roar, dunny door, a real no-hoper.
Chopper Reid, Gundagai, sarsparilla, blow-fly, 
Anzacs, Holden utes, bloody poms and desert boots.

Ten

© Stephen Munday June 2000.

The night was dark and raining
And the wind made whistling sounds,
The scraggly trees
Were bereft of leaves
They lay scattered across the ground.

The air inside the bedroom
Was cold and dark and thin,
The pelting rain
Beat a loud refrain
On the roof of galvanized tin.

Beneath the sheets and blankets
So the glow could not be seen,
The yellow torch light 
Kept out the night
As the boy read his book in its gleam.

He read of bold adventures
And pretended he was there,
He read of ships
That took long trips,
And he read of maidens fair.

He imagined, through his stories
That his bed had sprouted wings,
He'd fly around 
And search the ground
Looking for all kinds of things.

Instead of sheets and pillows
He saw chests of pirate's gold,
He felt warm sea air
So why should he care
That the night was dark and cold?

He flew across mountains and rivers,
He sailed from sea to sea,
He trekked across lands
Fighting beasts and brigands
So the world could be happy and free.

He stumbled upon a hidden cave 
And rescued the beautiful queen,
With a tear in her eye
She waved him goodbye
As he jumped in his time machine.

As the words in the book took over
And he turned the page once more,
He rode through the night
To take up the fight
And win, for his King, the Great War.

Then the torchlight flickered weakly,
The batteries were almost spent,
He closed his book
With a satisfied look
And peeked from beneath his tent.

The wind shook the glass in the window,
The roof made a drum for the rain,
He lay his sweet head
Back down on the bed
And dreamed it all over again.

Dan the Brave

© Choco Munday, 2004

In an ancient land in a distant time
A mighty Kingdom, free from crime
Prospered plenty as the people worked and laughed and played.
The strong, the brave, the wise the clean,
Were chosen by the King and Queen
To be the knights and soldiers who upheld the laws they made.

Across the searing desert sands
The Overlords of banished lands
Massed themselves together, the mighty Kingdom to invade.
Bands of thieves, cut-throats, raiders,
Armies of death - the Devil's Crusaders
So marched the evil soldiers - so came this fierce brigade!

The lookouts in the lookout steeple
Rang the bells to warn the people
As from the wide horizon came the raiders in their hordes.
Astride their beasts they came to plunder,
A thousand hoofbeats rang like thunder
Blending with the people's screams and clashing of their swords.

The bravest soldier, the boldest knight
Could never quell the awesome might
Of a thousand desert raiders as they stormed the castle walls.
Knights lay wounded, dying, dead,
Soon the people turned and fled,
The raiders were the victors, and to the victors go the spoils.

Deep within the dungeon's keep
In misty fog and darkness deep,
There came the distant ringing of a blacksmith at his forge.
Though up above the day was clear,
Down below was dark and drear,
Patiently Dan waits for the Smith to forge his sword.

In the streets the houses burn,
Mothers hide and Fathers yearn
For the bravest knight in all the land to come along.
Then as the Smithy's ringing ceases
Danny groans and his brow creases,
"I wanted a two handed sword, this broadsword's just all wrong!"

"A broadsword lad?" the Smithy cries,
"I've got one here, it's just your size"
And Danny grinned, knowing it had been there all the time.
"I must go now" said Danny boldly
"Pay me first!" the Smith said coldly,
A sack of coins changed hands and Danny said "This sword is mine!"

Left for dead by the enemy raiders
Carried below by the castle traders,
Dan had spent long days and nights within the dungeon's halls.
Now fighting fit with a new sword dangling,
Back through the castle Dan was angling
Eager to avenge those who had suffered within these walls.

The desert raiders celebrated,
For seven days, intoxicated,
Reveling in their victory while the people felt despair.
And though they offered some resistance
None were aware of Dan's existence
Until his cry of battle echoed loudly through the air!

With whistling sword he stabbed and coshed
Splitting heads like tomatoes squashed
And soon the raiders bodies made a carpet on the floor.
All night long Dan thrust and parried
Raider's souls, to Hell, were carried,
Inspired, the remaining Knights once more rallied to the fore.

The raiders found it quite surprising
That just one Knight caused this uprising,
A lesson for the raiders and the Kingdom's saving grace.
All around were people cheering,
Fathers frowned at Daughters leering,
At the one and only Knight who saved the Kingdom's face.

With the last of the raiders locked away,
The Lords took counsel on this day
For none could bring themselves to announce the King had died.
"But Lords" said Dan, "The Queen does mend him
Like any Wife, she lives to tend him,
Deep beneath the dungeon's keep she nursed the King and I!"

The news spread fast, the King survived,
Across the land new hope revived
And as their time of mourning passed they looked to brighter days.
To evil-doers far and wide
Heed this warning - STAY OUTSIDE!
For here within this kingdom lives a legend - Dan the Brave!

The Legend of Mad Dog Manda

© Choco Munday, 2005

I was driving eighteen wheelers up in north west New South Wales
'Twas the year I drove for twenty hours straight,
I'd stopped to check the load, it had shifted on its bails
And I thought I'd better re-arrange some freight.

I was just about to back the bloody forklift down the ramps
When I heard a voice behind me loud and clear;
"You'll lose the bloody lot unless you tighten down these clamps,
Have you got a ten inch shifter in your gear?"

I looked in stunned amazement and my jaw dropped to the ground,
I must have looked a proper silly goose.
I handed her a shifter and she smiled and turned around
And tightened down the dog-clutch that was loose.

Her hair was soft and yellow like the colour of the sun
She had a six-pack where her belly button showed.
Her legs were long and shapely and they ended at her bum,
Her eyes were just like chips of ice that glowed.

"Stop looking at my tits and get this rig back on the road,"
She said as she handed back my shifter.
"Er, sure" I stammered, blushing, like my head would soon explode,
This girl was no ordinary drifter!

She threw her swag inside the cab and swung into the seat;
I double checked the trailer and the load.
I jumped behind the wheel and got the diesel running sweet,
Then I eased the big Mack out onto the road.

"I'm heading north through Inverell, then on to Narrabri,"
I said to her, by way of conversation.
I glanced in her direction like I needed a reply,
She said, "I haven't got a final destination".

We travelled on in silence 'neath the scorching midday sun,
Although the air inside the cab was dry and cold.
The road was clear and so I set the speedo on a ton,
And for an hour or so we watched the road unfold.

Suddenly she sat up straight and checked the road ahead,
In the rear view, she checked the road behind.
"Don't you think it's strange that we've seen no trucks?" she said,
"Yep" I said, "the thought has crossed my mind".

"There's trouble up ahead" she said, "You'd better slow it down"
But I couldn't see what she was on about.
It might have been her steely gaze or just her worried frown,
So I gave her the benefit of the doubt.

I shifted down a gear or two and slowed us to a crawl,
There was something in the air that wasn't right.
"There's a town ahead" I told her, "about a mile, as I recall,"
"Yes", She said, "and I was there last night".

I turned the wheel and pulled my rig into the break-down lane,
I said "OK, girlie, what's this game you play?"
She sighed and said "Believe me, this is not a bloody game
And don't ever call me 'girlie' or you'll pay!"

The daggers in those cold, blue eyes sent shivers up my spine
So I stammered "M....m..my mistake, I'm sorry".
"My name is Mad Dog Manda, or just 'Mad Dog' will be fine,
Sit back awhile and listen to my story".

"I usually drive a road train on the Darling River run,
In the wet I take the Kenworth down to Bourke.
I stay a week or two, get some rest and have some fun,
Then I look around and get myself some work".

"I was throwing down some Ruskies at the Posty late last night
When this truckie stuck his head into the pub.
'Saddle up your bogies, lads, and dog 'em down real tight,
The rest of you should hide out in the scrub!'"

"I asked him what's the matter, he said 'Aggie's on her way!'
Well, the pub was emptied out in seconds flat!
'Who the fuck is Aggie?' was all that I could say,
The barmaid said 'You'd better hide out back!'

"Suddenly I heard a crash, the door snapped off its frame,
Then this Amazonian burst into the bar.
'A schooner of tequila, and give this bitch the same',
Then she looked at me and swallowed her cigar.

"'My name's Aggie and I want to know who owns the truck outside'
She was pointing to my Kenworth parked out front.
'I do, what about it?' I said to her with pride,
She said 'You haven't paid my fees you little runt!'

"She stomped up to the bar and downed her drink in just one gulp,
So I did the same, just to be polite.
'You have to pay the toll, or I'll beat you to a pulp,
Now it's your shout, I haven't got all night!'"

"I bought two more tequilas, threw mine down and swallowed hard,
Then I said 'Aggie, shove your toll right up your arse!'
I turned and walked away, but I was always on my guard,
Then the freak came at me with a broken glass!

"I ducked and turned and slammed my fist right into her bread-basket,
Which made me think I'd brought her down a peg,
I knew I had to move or she'd put me in a casket,
So I kicked her head and nearly broke my leg!

"The last thing I remember, I heard Aggie scream and swear
As she slammed a beer keg down on top of me.
I woke up where you found me, someone must have dumped me there,
Now we've got to steal my truck back, haven't we?"

I frowned and shook my head as I muttered some excuse,
But she smiled at me and weakened my resistance.
I groaned, "Ah, bloody hell, we'll get thrown in the caboose!"
Then I spotted something shimmering in the distance.

"That's my Kenworth!" Mad Dog shouted as the haze began to clear,
Then I heard its engine rumble under load.
Without another thought I pumped the clutch and found a gear,
And I parked the Mack to block the bloody road!

We jumped down from the cabin as the Kenworth locked its brakes,
It drifted sideways in a cloud of choking smoke.
I smelled the burning rubber and I think I got the shakes,
Then through the din, Mad Dog Manda spoke.

"Give me back my truck, you slag!" yelled Mad Dog as she strode
To the Kenworth, where she had but one accord.
Through the clearing smoke I watched as Aggie stepped down to the road,
She didn't even use the running-board!

The Amazon stood eight foot tall and snarled like a rabid bitch,
Mad Dog Manda barely came up to her waist!
But she was quick and had, by far, a nicer pair of tits
Which jiggled as she kicked in Aggie's face.

Aggie lunged at Mad Dog, but she quickly jumped away,
Then came back again with punches, slaps and kicks.
She soon had Aggie on her knees, which ended the foray,
But I saw that Aggie had some dirty tricks.

As Mad Dog climbed in to her truck and reached up for the keys,
Aggie turned and grabbed a wheel brace from its clip;
I yelled "Look out!" as Aggie aimed it straight at Mad Dog's knees,
In a howl of pain, Mad Dog lost her grip.

Enraged, I grabbed at something that was long and hard and flat,
As Aggie went in for the big king-hit.
I swung the shovel at her head just like a baseball bat,
Aggie hit the deck just like a bag of shit.

We tied her up and drove our trucks into the little town;
The coppers came and ended Aggie's fun.
It wasn't long 'till Mad Dog Manda's name became renown
As the one who beat the "Scourge of Highway One".

At the Postie on that fateful night we raised our drinks in toast,
She had Ruskies, I was happy with my beer.
Every truckie from the outback, every truckie from the coast
Stopped in to celebrate, and sing and cheer.

For me, that night was special, but that's all I've got to say,
'Cos no other truckie since can make the claim
To be the only person in the world to see and know the way
A truckie's singlet looks on Mad Dog Manda's frame!

Poetry by Graeme Thomas

Big Girl's Blouse

In days of old
When Al's weren't bald
And frenchys weren't invented,
A romp in the car
resulted in far
more than he'd intended.

With no regrets he married his love
and made more kids with Julie
Now he's lucky to make it once a month
or so Noddy tells me... TRULY!

He's told us all of the Narellan Leagues
and the five storey carpark ride.
When Julie navigated the second floor
and he drove over the side.

He preaches safety in his shed
"Carefull!... mind where you walk!"
But after the caravan fire and the carpark thing
He should fuckin' talk!

Golf and Hot Rods are Al's other loves
and he'll tell you this is crap.
But would you believe his Rod's a 28
and so is his handicap!

I'll tell you this...just one last thing
I'll tell you, then I'll go
Rumour has it Al had an affair
with a man called Virgil Volvo.

I've said enough about our mate Al
I'll let him take the booowwwes
Cause he's the one who's 40 now
happy birthday you "Big Girl's Blouse".

Choccolot Drop

by GT

If you see him you will know him
He' s fairly fuckin' fat
He's got a beard and a few tattoos
..and a fuckin' cat

He roars with laughter when he cracks a joke
and he knows some good ones, too
he likes to drink, but not too much…well…
that's almost fuckin' true.

Out in the shed he throws down the spanners
then throws down another beer
and cares not what the consequences
'cause "that’s how we do things 'round here"!

But he comes from a dead strange family
(I'm glad I'm not his brother)
he told me of his younger days
when they got fucked and pissed each other.

Reliable, polite and gentle
are his qualities to name a few
all of them are choco· ..well
that ' s almost fuckin' true.

And I didn't forget the Narrandera trip
(what a lovely little town)
when you started the tonsil chainsaw up
and the coppers came around.

No one believed the noise he made
as we tried to make him stop
but he just went on snoring
Mr. "Chainsaw Choccolot drop".

I've reached the end of my story
(it's to be read by but a few)
and what I've written here.. · well
it's almost fuckin' true!

Favourite Pomes

Cook's Lament

As I was walking through the wood,
I shit myself right where I stood.
I cried and cried, but no-one came.....
And so I shit myself again.

Tony Knudsen. 1975

Doh! A beer! I want a beer....
Ray, the guy who buys me beer.
Me, the guy who Ray buys beer...
Far, the way to go for beer.
So, I think I'll have a beer...
La, la la la la la la.
Tea? No thanks I'll have a beer...
And that brings us back to Doh! doh! doh!

---Homer Simpson   

The Drinker

Fill with mingled cream and amber,

I will drain that glass again.

Such hilarious visions clamber

Through the chambers of my brain.

Quaintest thoughts--queerest fancies,

Come to life and fade away:

What care I how time advances?

I am drinking ale today.

--Edgar Allan Poe

The Irish Pig

'Twas an evening in November,
As I very well remember.
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all aflutter,
So I landed in the gutter,
And a pig came up a lay down by my side.

Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say,
"You can tell a man that boozes
By the company he chooses."

At that the pig got up and walked away!

Unknown

Willie was a Chemist
But Willie is no more
What Willie thought was H20
Was H2SO4.

Unknown

Pete, The Piddling Pup

Anon.

A farmer's dog came into town,
His christian name was Pete.
A noble pedigree he had,
To see him was a treat.
And as he trotted down the street
'Twas beautiful to see
His work on every corner,
His work on every tree.


He watered every gateway, too,
And never missed a post,
For piddling was his specialty
And piddling was his boast.
The city curs looked on, amazed,
With deep and jealous rage
To see a simple country dog
The piddler of the age!


Then all the dogs from everywhere
Were summoned with a yell
To sniff the country stranger o'er
And judge him by the smell.
Some thought that he a king might be,
Beneath his tail, a rose.
So every dog drew near to him
And sniffed him by the nose.


They smelled him over one by one,
They smelled him two by two;
But noble Pete, in high disdain,
Stood still till they were through.
Then, just to show the whole shebang
He didn't give a damn
He trotted in a grocer's shop
And piddled on a ham.


He piddled in a mackerel keg.
He piddled on the floor,
And when the grocer kicked him out
He piddled through the door.
Behind him all the city dogs
Lined up with instinct true
To start a piddling carnival
And see the stranger through.


They showed him every piddling post
They had in all the town,
And started in, with many a wink,
To pee the stranger down.
They sent for champion piddlers
Who were always on the go
And who sometimes gave a piddling stunt
Or gave a piddling show.


They sprung these on him suddenly
When midway through the town.
Pete only smiled, and piddled off
The ablest, white or brown.
For he was with them, every trick,
With vigour and with vim.
A thousand piddles, more or less,
Were all the same to him.


So he was wetting merrily
With hind leg kicking high
When most were hoisting legs in bluff
And piddling mighty dry.
On and on, Pete sought new grounds
By piles of scrap and rust
Till every city dog ran dry
And only piddled dust.


Still on and on went noble Pete
As wet as any rill
When all the champion city dogs
Had come to a standstill.
Then Pete did free-hand piddling
With fancy flirts and flips
Like the 'double dip' and the 'gimlet twist'
And all the latest hits.


And all the time the country dog
Did never wink or grin
But blithely piddled out of town
As he had piddled in.
The city dogs a convention held
To ask, "What did defeat us?"
But no one ever put them wise
That Pete had diabetes!