Archive for ‘Light Verse’

June 16, 2011

Who Is Harrison J. Bounel?

The Con-Artist-in-Chief

So, the President
of the USA is a fraud:
what melodrama!

Harrison Bounel
is Barry Soetoro who’s
Barack Obama.

Someone, you might think,
could have made some inquiries
before polling day.

As always, of course,
the old, effete media
wend their merry way

and dismiss calls for
serious reform without
much introspection.

No need to hurry!
There’s plenty of time before
the next election,

and this time, perhaps,
some might show fortitude to
have Obama traced

with a small fraction
of the effort lavished on
Mrs. Palin’s waste.

June 13, 2011

Heed Gaia’s Smoke Signals

Climatic Eruption

Yet more volcanoes?
Certain proof of the dangers
of global warming.

Fewer Hurricanes,
small warmth; but these volcanoes
are quite alarming.

Volcanoes are not
caused by emissions, you say?
This we can conceal:

we need disasters
to make people recognise
climate change is real.

Tags: ,
May 22, 2011

“The Leader Has My Full Support”

The Words of Doom

No party leader wants to hear
such words that ever bring great fear,
far worse than “guilty” in a court—
the leader has my full support.”

No matter how the polls might fall
there’s always hope that, after all,
some issue might reverse the trend,
internal opposition end,
and popularity will soar
unto the heights they’d been before.
For Beasley, Latham, then for Rudd
the words, in turn, that froze their blood
and made their visages distort?
the leader has my full support.”

Now Gillard daily reads the news
that, deep within the party, views
are these:  she’s past it, looking wan,
completely ruined, done-for, gone;
the party she “put on its tracks”
is ruined by a stupid tax.
So now she’s bunkered, feeling low,
reflecting things can hardly go
much worse than this, when comes a thought
of how her leader’s end was brought,
and how she’d guaranteed to all
she’d not effect her leader’s fall;
is Senator Arbib the sort
who’d scam behind her back? in short,
was he like her?  She hears, in dread,
the reportage of what he said;
her shoulders hunch, her eyes contort—
the leader has my full support.”

May 12, 2011

Perhaps He Shouted, “Allah, Who’s in There?”

His Need Was Great*

The Yemeni arrested
and wrestled to the floor
had thought he had requested
an open toilet door:

“It was a simple error,
I thought I’d be too late,
I meant to cause no terror
by shouting ‘God is Great!’

“Though I teach mathematics
and am a clever swot,
the airline’s weird schematics
had baffled me a lot.

“Arthritic joints were swelling,
you must commiserate;
confusion set me yelling
so loudly, “God is great!’

“The pressure set me rushing
though I was told to sit;
now I’m the one who’s flushing—
I didn’t need to shit.

“Let all this be a lesson:
we should not be irate;
a man might need compassion
when shouting “God is great!’”

*  Daniel Bates, of The Daily Mail, reports, “The Yemeni man who was wrestled to the floor after pounding on the cockpit door of a plane approaching San Francisco may have mistaken it for the bathroom.  Rageit Almurisi cannot speak English very well and could have misunderstood the signs inside the jet, his cousin claimed.”  See also Jihad Watch.  Cross-posted at All Right, All Right.

April 22, 2011

A Parliament of Beasts

Who Represents Cock-Robin?*

“Who will talk to men?”
“I must,” announced the Southern Emu-Wren,
“I’ll learn English, then swiftly deal with men.”

“Who’ll fight for each inch?”
“I shall,” yelled the threatened, Black-Throated Finch,
“It will be a cinch to fight for each inch.”

“Who’ll give humans hell?”
“I,” claimed the Christmas Island Pipistrelle,
“I’ll do very well at giving men hell.”

“Who’ll make this legal?”
“Well, I, of course,” drawled the Wedge-Tailed Eagle
“I am so regal, I’ll make this legal.”

“Who will bring a suit?”
“I,” declared the Eastern Barred Bandicoot,
“I shall prosecute any legal suit.”

“Who’ll serve for one term?”
“I,” whispered the Giant Gippsland Earthworm,
“I’ll make humans squirm, and serve for a term.”

“Who will take the poll?”
“Let me, let me!” shouted the Eastern Quoll,
“I shall grab a scroll, and prepare the poll!”

“Who will count the vote?”
“I,” said the Forty-Spotted Pardalote,
“I’ll take careful note, and then count the vote!”

“Who’ll say ‘hyper-bowl’?”
“I,” slurred the Southern Marsupial Mole,
“I’ll take on that rôle, saying ‘hyper-bowl’.”

“Who will ‘bell the cat’?
“Ah, well,” murmured the Bare-Rumped Heathtail Bat,
“I’m no democrat when it comes to that—”.

* Peter Hunt writes, “Animal land rights bid”, in the Weekly Times:

University of Western Sydney academic John Hadley, who is at the forefront of a global push to give animals property rights, believes farmers should be forced to negotiate with the legal guardians of Australia’s native animals before clearing their land.
“Under an animal guardianship system, landholders who want to modify habitat on their land would have to negotiate with a guardian acting on behalf of a designated group of animals,” Dr Hadley said in his article on a new academic website The Conversation.

April 12, 2011

Flim-Flannery II

The Profit of Doom

“Climate dangers loom!
such “science” impresses whom?
For fools there is room.

Who preaches such gloom?
Tim Flannery, we assume:
“Do fear the simoom!”

That prophet of doom
in motley jester’s costume
pretends to illume.

We need a new broom
for real science to resume;
let Tim have his tomb.

Still, fresh blossoms bloom;
ignore the human legume.
Enjoy spring’s perfume.

April 9, 2011

Flim-Flannery I

Flammery’s Lament

They’ll run a front-page feature*
too full of awful lies;
they’ll state that I’m a creature
of avaricious guys.
They’ll run a weekend-story
to spread deceit and fear,
forgetting all my glory—
an Aussie of the year!

Then comes a little stinger
on Monday, on page three:
some dreadful paper’s stringer
will dare to sneer at me.
Why are such people teasing?
I cannot understand!
I’m clearly born for pleasing—
a prophet of the land.

Desert seers were oft abused
by those they came to lead.
Similarly, I’ve been accused
of clumsiness and greed.
I am not the worst of chaps,
no author of a plot;
scientific dunce, perhaps,
a genius I am not.

* Tim Blair reports that Tim Flannery “might be exaggerating just a little.”  The delusional and, perhaps, paranoid Prof. Flannery said:

The campaign [against the IPCC] was very much like the sort of media campaign that I’m used to when people try to discredit me.  And the way that works is usually on a Friday they’ll run a front-page story saying what a ratbag I am.  You know, front page, and that’s all right, interesting, someone’s been a bit, you know, corrupt or a bit rotten.
And then on the Saturday they’ll run a page three story, usually a much longer story, listing everything you’re supposed to have done, and all the reasons why you’re a ratbag.
And then on the Monday they’ll put a little stinger in. A little reminder, just to remind people what a rotten person you are.

John, iv.  44; Mark, vi. 4; Matt., xxxv. 57.

April 6, 2011

Sic et Non

Things may well get a whole lot worse, with much less than before;
but, on the other hand, they might improve a bit, with more.
The planet’s coolth or warmth could sway, but awfully, we fear;
and Armageddon might be nigh, or maybe not so near.
Whatever happens to the seas—they’ll surely rise or fall—
we climate scientists declare, “Our models forecast all!”

March 15, 2011

Another Reason to Avoid 10:10 Parties

I thought I saw a badger fight
   a brawny, fierce baboon;
their teeth were bright in silver light
   reflected from the moon.

The cunning badger hassled well,
   the ape’s defeat was near;
the ground was ruddied by his blood,
   it whimpered now in fear.

The badger ceased its frenzied strikes,
   and struck a pose instead:
“The Climate-Gate Enquiry’s great,
   you’ll now concede,” it said.

I rubbed red eyes in wild surmise,
   the truth now clear to me:
two drunken warmist loons I saw,
   debating with a tree.

(Originally posted at Bishop Hill’s site.)