Previous Poems of the Week

Please click on the headings below to read from the collection of previous weekly poems.




Nature has a wisdom

Beyond the realm of science

That permeates all living things

From ants to forest giants


From mighty whales to fungi

From bugs that crawl and creep

To jungle vines and mountain goats

Or sponges of the deep


From garden plants to blossom trees

From cacti to wild cats

From fish to dogs to bumble bees

Baboons to bears or bats


From birds that soar the open skies

From slugs to modern man

There is a web that binds us all

Its universal span


Extends beyond the physical

And strict constraints of time

For nature is a poem

And life itself a rhyme




Time spent in a garden

Will help you to relax

Growing things like lilies

Lox or flox or flax


Or you could grow chrysanthemums

Rhodo’s or azaleas

Begonias or geraniums

Daffodils or dahlias


You could grow new potatoes

Sprouts or leafy greens

Turnips or tomatoes

Parsnips peas or beans


You could grow either fruit or nut

Or ornamental trees

You could grow a thousand things

And all of them would please


But in gardens there are just

Two ‘absolutes’ to grow

And they are old and happy

As all good gardeners know


You could grow old and bitter

Or tired it is true

But in a nurtured garden

That’s really hard to do


To work with nature’s cycles

Its force its ebb and flow

Is to find understanding and

Contentment as you grow


Appreciate the beauty

The bounty for the table

And stop to smell the roses

Whenever you are able


In any garden there are just

Two ‘absolutes’ to grow

And they are old and happy

As all good gardeners know



01/02/2021 OVER RATED


We’re in the cricket final

That news is really grate

We could wind-up as champions

But just a minute wait


It’s not hard to imagine a

Scenario where-in

The Black Caps post six hundred

For six and then begin


To scalp the other’s wickets

And force a follow-on

Then take another nine before

The final pair hang on


To claim a Clayton’s draw but with

A faster over rate

The ICC officials

Will then have a debate


Innings played and wickets lost

Will count for sweet FA

As those imbued with wisdom

Will have the final say


The sage-like ICC will then

Award the test match to

You guessed it – not the Black Caps

No, that would never do


The Black Caps will be given

A cruel kick up the colon

The title and the trophy just

Like last time will be stolen


15/02/21 OFFENDED

We seek to be offended

It’s our God-given right

To take offense at all and any

Unintended slight


If someone is a bully

Or says things out of line

We’ll gang up and we’ll hound them till

They give up or resign


It’s not enough to set things straight

Or reach a compromise

No, someone needs to lose their job

Not just apologise


Umbrage is our middle name

We love to be upset

It is our goal and to that aim

We search the internet


For things we don’t agree with

That put us in a pique

We search with indignation

So cross we cannot speak


We seek to be offended

It’s our God-given right

To take offense at all and any

Unintended slight

But once we’ve got our pound of flesh

And finished social branding

Then we call for tolerance

Peace and understanding


The right gave us fake news

The left fake indignation

We gave the young false hope

The old misinformation


We’re in the post truth era

Where lying’s de-rigueur

We’ve artificial flowers

Forked tongues, false teeth, faux fur


We’ve knock-off bags and watches

And art-work forgeries

We’ve counterfeits and replicas

Ironic parodies


Tribute bands and look-a likes

Fool’s gold and mock whipped cream

We’ve puppet politicians with

A vast spin-doctor team


We’ve got synthetic leather

And phony labelled gear

Bogus vegan burgers and

Non-alcoholic beer


We’ve photo-shopped celebrities

Voice-modulated songs

Breast implants and Botox

And large vibrating dongs


We’ve Imitation suntans

Plastic Christmas trees

And now we’ve even virtual

On-line realities


Is nothing safe or Sacrosanct?

Original or real?

Is anything authentic?

Other than this whole ordeal?


Is nothing sound or factual?

Or bona fide true?

Or has misrepresentation won

A beauty contest too?


‘Thou shalt not bare false witness’

Is clearly in decline

And even ‘genuine’ has been

Replaced with ‘genu-wine’


I’m sure it wasn’t mine or your

Ambition or intention

But none-the-less we’re living in

An alternate dimension


Where there is no integrity

No honour and no shame

And truth is but a stranger in

A pointless, match-fixed game


Propaganda’s part and parcel

Of our every day

‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em

Seems to be the way


Hyperbole’s so common

Even poets have been smitten

Thus concludes the greatest

Rhyming poem ever written



Up one level, down one level

Tides go in and out

We win a race, they win a race

They’re taking turn about


We have a thriller on our hands

Both boats have similar speeds

The start is where it’s won or lost

Despite heroic deeds


Foiling beats to windward

Downwind even faster

Praying for more breeze and not

A belly-down disaster

29/03/21 NAKED SKIES


Orion lies on night’s horizon

Whilst the Milky Way

In an arc across the dark

Puts on a grand display


It is the roar and stags ensure

With their nocturnal cries

Survival of their species

Beneath the naked skies


In daylight too they billet-doux

As hunters lure them in

To a game where in their aim

Determines who will win


Across the land with guns in hand

Men stalk and seldom slumber

In a push to save the bush

By knocking back their number




Prince Phillip Duke of Edinburgh

Has sadly passed away

A pillar of the monarchy

The Sovereign’s rock and stay


His sense of Duty went beyond

A consort’s obligations

His outdoor and adventure scheme

Beloved by generations


A family man, an officer

A hero of the war

Who undertook a royal role

Like none had done before


His legacy will be that he

Helped thousands to stand tall

Whilst ‘social gaffs’ are all that those

With smaller minds recall


Honour the fallen

And those who returned

Give thanks for their service

Respect that’s been earned


Acknowledge the courage

The sacrifice made

By all who have served

And the role they have played


Do not take for granted

Our freedoms and rights

Hard fought for and won in

The darkest of nights


But give recognition

On this of all days

To the valour of ANZACs

Deserving of praise

10/05/21 MUM’S THE WORD

Though family may be far flung

Elderly or very young

Though Mum’s the word, don’t hold your tongue

It’s Mother’s day today


Fill both beating heart and lung

Make her praises widely sung

Let pleasure and surprise be sprung

Today’s her special day


Trees are nature’s poets

Each leaf – a precious verse

A small cathartic missive

A thought, a prayer, a curse


Their rhythm is impressive

Their rhyming scheme imposing

But scattered by the autumn winds

They now lie decomposing


Do trees express their feelings, or

Is it a silly notion

To think of such a quality

As poet-tree emotion?

07/06/21 UFOs

One more report has been released

Regarding UFOs

Expanding our horizons

Is how our knowledge grows


For seeing is believing

We know this not because –

The sceptic’s mind is so advanced

(Compared with where it was)


But because the evidence

Collected over years

Should be sufficient to persuade

A jury of one’s peers


Yet if you block your ears and eyes

And if you hope and pray

And if you never change your mind

They might just go away


The first test cricket final is

At last now under way

The world’s two greatest test teams in

A place where rain stops play


However in the next few days

As willow combats leather

A worthy winner will emerge

Despite the English weather


New Zealand are already ranked

The best test-playing nation

The Indians are favourites though

Due to their reputation


So who will wind up champions?

Once final stumps are drawn

Let’s hope our Black Cap heroes aren’t

Left once again forlorn


Before you change a nappy now

You need to ask permission

To keep your baby happy and

Avoid an imposition


But if consents not given

I know this may sound strange

You’re going to have to leave it

For someone else to change


No-one’s going to blame you as

They’ll know your hands were tied

If you went through the motions

At least they’ll know you tried



The tradies and the farmers

Have simply had enough

When asked how things were going

One farm dog answered “ruff”


The nurses strike was cancelled

Fiji’s team sponsor thought

It would be good if they could mix

Politics with sport


And while the queue for M.I.Q.

Is causing consternation

A deluge on the West Coast meant

A mass evacuation


Big changes are afoot

Lest measures are at hand

Who knows what lies ahead?

For us and our fair land


02/08/21 LAKE TEKAPO

I’ve been up to Lake Tekapo

To take the vistas in

The scenery is so serene

Just where does one begin?


The silver lake that shimmers

Beneath a true blue sky

The sun-kissed snow-clad mountains

Where lonely falcons fly


Some views defy the artist’s eye

And the poet’s words

Their sheer majestic beauty

Is strictly for the birds

16/08/21 PHASED OUT

Some think that cash should be phased out

Like postage stamps and cheques

Bank branches and post offices

They all should become ‘ex’

Like local shops that can’t compete

With on-line retail giants

Like people-focused services

That struggle with compliance

Like petrol-pump attendants

Tennis courts of grass

Like common sense and manners

Milkbottles made of glass

Like books made out of paper

Like poetry that rhymes

Like vynil discs, CDs and tapes

We must move with the times

Some think that cash should be phased out

But to ‘coin’ a phrase

Businesses should all take ‘note’

That’s how the damn thing pays

30/08/21 BOTH WAYS


It’s bad news for all Aucklanders

And not just in this case

Since those down south have been locked up

Despite no Covid trace


The principle’s established

The president’s been set

So sometime in the future it’s

A guaranteed sure bet


That should there be an outbreak

In Stewart Island, say

Then all of Auckland will go in

To lockdown straight away


And even if it doesn’t spread

Beyond the island’s shore’s

Unless it doesn’t work both ways

There’ll be a two week pause





Donald the president packed a sad

And said goodbye to the Whitehouse

Off he went with a bit of a hump

Trump, trump, trump


The head of the house was calling

For him to be impeached

She met one night

With the left and the right

But no deal could be reached



Donald the president packed his trunk

And said goodbye to the circus

Off he went with a bit of a hump

Trump, trump, trump


25/01/2021 BRING IT ON

Come on twenty twenty-one

Show us what you’ve got

A winter that’s too wet and cold?

A summer that’s too hot?

A water-roiling, hydro-foiling

Fifty-five knot yacht?

A Japanese Olympics in

Its time-allotted slot?

A worldwide vaccine programme?

A new strain of the ‘bot’?

A real conspiracy theory with

A Machiavellian plot?

After twenty-twenty

You know there’s not a lot

Of ways you could surprise us

But give it your best shot

Bring it on we’re ready

Happy days or not

Come on twenty twenty-one

Show us what you’ve got


Essential workers can’t get in

Restrictions are too tough

Whilst those who would employ them say

They still can’t get enough


Managed isolation rooms

Are now booked-out till June

And ‘hard-and-fast’ officials say

They will not change their tune


For those with circumstances like

Terminal conditions

Or those about to have a child

They won’t hear their petitions


So many locked out Kiwis

Are facing doom and gloom

For Aussie entertainers though

There is some wiggle room


You’d have to be a hypocrite

Of the highest order

To help an Isis terrorist

Caught trying to breach a border


After heaping scorn upon

Air NZ engineers

For doing work on Saudi boats

Subjecting them to jeers


They didn’t pass the ‘sniff-test’

Of the PM’s nose

You’d hardly think this new case was

A sweetly scented rose


Perhaps they’ll fly this terrorist

And her children here

On an Air New Zealand flight

– Without an engineer!


You must confirm you will conform

In order to get by

Radical free-thinkers and

Non-woke need not apply


Political correctness is

Obligatory of course

And ‘wokism’ a state of mind

We’re willing to enforce


We’re all about diversity

But not on points of view

So if you think you could kowtow

This job might be for you


With two dogs and a caravan

We hit the winding roads

An awesome Autumn tiki-tour

Of temporary abodes

The southern lakes and mountain peaks

Blessed us with their views

And so we sought a stopping place

But which one would we choose?

No parking here, no stopping there

Warm fuzzies turned to stone

This holiday destination is

One big no-camping zone

We scoured every roadside but

No refuge could be found

Till by the Rees we chanced upon

A peaceful piece of ground

Its rippled waters burbled

And murmured ‘stay a while’

And so we did its bidding

And set up camp in style

The braided river’s silver strands

Wove between its banks

Lapping at the lupins all

Along its lower flanks

We walked its sweeping gravel flats

Souveniring stones

Then in our mobile home from home

Away from things like phones

We had a game of scrabble

A night-cap rum and coke

We slumbered ’neath a starry sky

And then when daybreak broke

We saw the molten sunlight creep

Down the alpine faces

And dissipate the morning mist

Into wispy traces

We saw the light and shadow play

On peaks throughout the day

And felt the stress of measured time

Begin to melt away

We felt a crispness in the air

A keenness in the Rees

We felt a kinship in the land

An ancient inner peace

We felt the bite of Autumn

A colour-turning chill

And the bite of sand-flies

A sting that lingers still

We heard the sound of solitude

The mountain pass’s dream

A pair of passing Sheldrake ducks

The journey of the stream

An idyllic location

A heavenly abode

The nearest thing to Paradise

A few ‘K’s up the road

05/04/21 THE BUBBLE

Last week we wound our watches

And clocks an hour back

For nature this was just one more

Unwarranted attack


The stress of messing ’round with time

To make the sun go down

Has caused the trees to lose their leaves

Or turn them golden brown


The south is dressed in autumn hues

As tourist spots prepare

For a trans-Tasman bubble filled

With quarantineless air


Hubble bubble travel trouble

Lessened by trans-Tasman bubble

Fire walls reduced to rubble

So will outbreaks halve or double?



Double, double travel trouble

Fly return in called-on bubble


Eye of one-eyed news reporter

Wing of thing flown over water

In the pot place these and more

As quarantine goes out the door


For a spell of trade or terror

In the mix throw human error

Escapees from isolation

Lies about inoculation


Toss in inability

Some anti-vacs hostility

Q.R. codes and clots of blood

Then stir till all is clear as mud


Double, double travel trouble

Fly return in called-on bubble


Armstrong, Aldrin, Collins

Apollo’s golden three

One small step, one giant leap

For all humanity


Known one time as the loneliest

Most isolated man

He flew the dark side of the moon

Cocooned inside a can


Exploring space he blazed a trail

’Cross Heaven’s starry dome

Now Michael Collins – astronaut

Has taken his ride home


Cats and rats and mustelids

And wallabies as well

And possums, wasps and rabbits hear

The tolling of the bell


Now happy little hedgehogs too

Cloaked in spiky robes

Have been put on the target list

Of specist xenophobes


They’ve no time for these critters

Nor those who hold them dear

Insisting that as foreigners

They’ve no right to be here


They want eradication of

Each horrid little ‘quiller’

So who now is the bunch of pricks?

And who’s the heartless killer?

31/05/21 RED ALERT

It’s raining cats and dogs down here

And snowing in the mountains

In Canterbury it’s coming down

Like water theme park fountains


The flood signs have been posted in

Concerned anticipation

Of the record breaking levels

Of precipitation


No joy in this for Aucklanders

Who miss-out once again

On having dams and reservoirs

Topped up by needed rain

14/06/21 BARCODE

A birthday ode to be bestowed

A line or two for the old barcode

With checkout set to scanning mode

Unless the sale was over-rode

The barcode showed how much was owed

But not how much we owed the code


The greatest test teams tested by

The dodgy English weather

As much as by the googlie or

The line and length of leather


But once again the Black Caps proved

To be the better team

By mastering the willow

And utilizing seam


They bowled the opposition out

Then got the runs required

As newly crowned world champions

They have to be admired


Pinned down and under pressure on

A tricky sticky wicket

Williamson and Taylor showed

Just how to block and flick it


A most unlikely victory since

The pundits didn’t pick it

But fluctuating fortunes saw

A glorious game of cricket




Can the Pommies do it

Like they did in sixty-six?

Win a football final

With style and skillful tricks


Can they get the better of

This top Italian team?

If so then from New Zealand

You’ll hear them cheer and scream


There will be tears at Wembley though

Come this time tomorrow

But will it be Italian fans

Or Poms consumed by sorrow?



Higher, further faster

To overcome and master

And triumph are their aims


Faster, higher, further

With fever-pitch and fervour

And passion for the games


Further, faster, higher

The sporting world’s desire

For true Olympic flames


Higher, further faster

An imminent disaster

As covid takes a hold


Faster, higher, further

The ticketed observer

Is left out in the cold


Further, faster, higher

Some say we should admire

Their blinkered lust for gold

09/08/21 OLYMPIC G.O.A.T.


Gold medals for our women

Gold medals for our men

And all praise Lisa Carrington

For doing it again


But if we are pretending

Men’s and women’s are the same

It follows, Sophie Pascoe – who

With nine golds to her name


Is actually New Zealand’s ‘goat’

Or greatest of all time

Unless there’s someone-else somewhere

Who’s even more sublime

23/08/21 LOCK DOWN

Another comic genius

Passed away this week

A consummate professional

Who’s talent was unique

The great Sean Lock has sadly died

No more his cheeky grin

Or honed dead-pan delivery

While taking people in

For repartee and ready wit

He was among the best

An undisputed master

Of laughter now at rest

Sometimes a simple smile can be

All the lift we need

So to lose such talent is

A sad, sad loss indeed.



06/01/2020 GOLDEN GLOBES


Fresh flowers flown from Florence

To grace the Golden Globes

Nothing but the best for those

Dressed in their finest robes


Eco-woke celebrities

Instruct the doting hoards

On how to save the planet

While accepting their awards


Limiting their travel to

Occasions such as these

They ease their carbon conscience with

A pledge to plant some trees


20/01/2020 PRESCIENT


I may not be clairvoyant, yet

But still I’ll make the call

Predictive text will never change

The writing on the wall


For I foresee that prophesy

Will come back into style

As will immortality

But only for a while


To have your finger on the pulse

Is not enough you’ll find

That being but two steps ahead

Still leaves you one behind


And even being prescient

These days is so last week

And if it’s not it will be soon

Just mark the words I speak




Despite vocal minorities

Like the far-left woke

Proclaiming doom and gloom

The British people spoke


Democracy delivered

After three long years

After temper-tantrums

Peevishness and tears


After rifts and wrangling

Disruption and delay


And sovereignty held sway


The union is flying

A party’s under way

The Brexit boat is sailing

It’s Independence Day

17/02/2020 URI GELLER


You can claim that there are ghosts

Or bases on the moon

But nothing stirs up skeptics

Quite like a Geller spoon


While there have been inquiries

By those with open minds

At research institutions

All one ever finds


Is scientific puzzlement

And those who want to vent

Frustrated skepticism as

They tell him to get bent

02/03/2020 THIRTY DAYS


Thirty days has September

April, June and November

All the rest have thirty-one

Bar February which for fun

Has twenty-eight plus something queer

Twenty-nine in each leap-year


Most leap-years fall four years apart

Starting at the century’s start

A century though that cannot be

Divided up numerically

By four hundred is I fear

Not an actual leap-year

16/03/2020 COVID 19


Reality is sinking in

The world we knew has changed

With borders closed and games postponed

And concerts rearranged


Commemorations cancelled

Down-sized and relocated

Kiwis stranded overseas

Tourists isolated


Financial markets plummeting

Shares are being sold

And drive-through visits to GPs

If you’ve a cough or cold


No handshakes, hugs or hongis

Instead it’s elbow bumps

And always keep your distance

In case the virus jumps


Industries are shutting down

Schools are not yet closed

But should there be a case confirmed

The question will be posed


There’s jobs and income on the line

So much will soon be gone

Until that time if you feel fine

Keep calm and carry on


For now it seems the only way

To save our sorry souls

Is wear a mask and wash our hands

And buy more toilet rolls




All across the country from

The comfort of their homes

Frustrated would-be writers will

Have set about their tomes


At last the time they’ve dreamed about

Has landed in their laps

And they’re busy taking selfies for

The inside-cover flaps


God knows how many diaries

In this creative phase

Will be penned as a record of

The Covid lock-down days


There’s bound to be a boon of books

Good news for those who need ’em

Let’s hope once this is over that

There’s someone left to read ’em!

13/04/20 TWO TUATARA

The latest stat is showing that

This virus can be beat

Baldwin Street is back on top

As the steepest street


And two tuatara too are

In the news this week

Their discovery – a recovery

Where things once were bleak


We had a Dad-dance winner

From somewhere down near bluff

And an East Otago farmer’s

Doing lock-down in the buff


So don’t fixate on doom and gloom

In these uncertain times

There’s lots of good news stories still

Down here in southern climes


27/04/20 STAND AS ONE


At our driveways

At our gates

Waiting for the sun

We stand in isolation yet

Our nation stands as one


Remembering the fallen and

The sacrifices made

This year though

No dawn gatherings

No soldiers on parade


Denied our ANZAC services

By lock-down rules – and yet

In our own strange adversity

A stronger bond is set

11/05/20 GOLD


The south is soaked in autumn

Cloaked in auburn gold

The treasure trove of turning leaves

A pleasure to behold


Trees aglow with sunlit tones

Shed their skins like snakes

And stand like threadbare skeletons

Amidst the fallen flakes


Backlit leaves illuminate

With their fleeting glory

A metamorphic metaphor

A rags-to-riches story


Oaks of ochre slumber as

Burnt umber is revealed

While pools of liquid amber are

A flaming burnished shield


Copper hues and ruby reds

Blaze like fiery flares

The richness of their colours

Makes us all vermillionaires

25/05/20 FOGO


Is it the fear of going out?

Or ‘FOGO’ as it’s known

Or ‘JOSH’ – the joy of staying home

That keeps me here alone?


I’ve been confined in lock-down

In a bubble for so long

That now I am reluctant to

Go out and join the throng


It’s like my home’s become a boat

And I’ve been out at sea

And now that land is back in sight

I want to just stay free


I want to just keep going like

Some bloke behind the wheel

A woman in an argument

An interest only deal


A Reader’s Digest lottery

A degustation meal

A snowball down a mountain or

Or a sore that will not heal


I simply want to hunker down

Remain a happy hermit

In splendid isolation

With no-one to confirm it


08/06/20 LEVEL ONE


We’ve now moved into level one

The country’s feeling great

We smashed the covid virus

It’s time to celebrate


This time no yellow underarm

No sneaky hotel Suzie

No unacknowledged forward pass

No biased reffing doozie


No winning sailing race cut short

To fit in TV ads

No extra runs awarded to

Deprive our likely lads


No dodgy bent road measurements

To steal our steepest street

This time we were not cheated and

We got the virus beat


We all deserve a drink, a hug

A big bouquet of flowers

Twenty-two sad losses but

This victory is ours



22/06/20 SOLST-ICE


From tomorrow-on each day

Grows warmer, brighter, longer

The golden orb climbs higher

Its presence ever stronger


The winter solstice has been reached

The nadir point’s been passed

The dark of night now shortens

With every frost that’s cast


The solstice ice is scattered in

Fine splinters on the lawn

Crispy sunlight shattering

The cold reluctant dawn


Crunchy prints are crimped into

A track across the grass

Compressing shards of frosted flakes

That gleam like crystal glass


The stiff clothes on the laundry-line

Hang frozen to the core

The question is: to take them in

Or leave them out to thaw?




Don’t assemble in a throng

Don’t dis’ the flag or national song

Don’t cause a diplomatic pong

Don’t tell the world there’s something wrong


Don’t beat the freedom drum or gong

Democracy’s gone on too long

Might is right and we’re too strong

For any ding-dong in Hong Kong


20/07/20 QR CODES


In the queue are

Those who view our

QR codes as crap

For how much longer

Will they linger

Fingering their app


Still others say a-

nother way they

Could go is a trap

And cards with chips

That map our trips

Won’t fill the tracing gap



May be the key

If it falls in our laps

Or could it be

Our apathy

We need to change – perhaps?




Remember in the olden days

How voices sounded fine

When international interviews

Came down a copper line


When via our valve radios

Discussions could be heard

No fading out or breaking up

On every second word


But now we’ve Skype and mobile phones

And radio streaming too

And progress has deprived us of

That clarity we once knew

17/08/20 WAKA


A waka of five million

Would be an awesome sight

All paddling together

Out of the covid night


By pulling on the left

And pulling on the right

Our waka would ride straight and true

Towards the dawning light


Together for a common goal

But take one set away

And the harder that we paddle

The more we go astray


If only those who think like us

Are ever given oars

We’ll just go round in circles

That’s one of nature’s laws

31/08/20 WINTER’S END


Where’s the snow we waited for

All this season long?

Where’s the winter wonderland

The sleigh-bell jingle song?


No fairytale-like landscape

No trees with cloaks of snow

No picture-perfect postcard scenes

Everywhere you go


No children making snowmen

No all-in snowball fights

No families enjoying

A snowy slope’s delights


No fields of fluffy whiteness

No drifts in which to play

Instead it’s just another boring

Blue-sky sunny day



Giving is the greatest gift

So when you feel you are adrift

Give yourself a little lift

By giving lots of smiles


Though at first it may seem strange

To force your face to re-arrange

You will soon feel an inner change

As you forget your trials


When you think you’ve got the knack

Give to those whose faces lack

A smile and you’ll find they’ll give back

The sunshine on their dials


28/09/20 PUMA PUMA


‘Tiger, tiger burning bright

In the forest of the night

What immortal hand or eye’

-But that was all in days gone by



Now puma, puma burning black

Somewhere off the beaten track

Still no mortal’s camera yet

Has framed more than a family pet




The Collins – Ardern catfight

Billed as a debate

Show how low they have to go

In order to relate


It wasn’t only Judith

In spite of what they’re saying

When Donald caught the virus

The whole world started praying


Covid nineteen may have lain

Him low for just a while

But now he’s back campaigning

With his infectious smile



26/10/20 NETBALLS UP

For a four-team tournament
Just how hard can it be?
To sort out different playing strips
So everyone can see

Who is playing for which side
That’s not too much to ask
But for some professionals
That’s still too great a task

Did no-one in Netball NZ
Even stop to think
Three teams kitted-out in black
Just one in shocking pink

Not even netball bibs at hand
The sort with strings attached
And no-one keen to play in skins
For fear they might get scratched

A different coloured uniform
For each of the four teams
Is about as likely though
As equal pay it seems

2/11/20 SAIL THE SEVEN C’s

‘C’ is for Cook and Castle Point
And Colville if you please
To sail around New Zealand is
To sail the Seven C’s

Through Chalmers, Conway, Chatham Isles –
Most east point of our nation
And finally the seventh ‘C’
Is circumnavigation

You’ll sail through more sea-areas
There’s others, not just these
But sail around New Zealand and
You’ve sailed the Seven ‘C’s



There’s something sad about a man
Who knows the bottom line
Better than he knows the taste
Of fear or summer wine

Better than he knows the sound
Of children on a beach
Better than the lessons that
The little ones can teach

There’s something sad about a man
Who dresses to impress
And bought his house because he thought
It had a good address

Who watches what the market does
And follows all the trends
But keeps a little cash on hand
So he can buy some friends

There’s something sad about a man
Who can’t see passed the price
Of the entry ticket or
The cost of being nice

Who never gives to charity
Without a photo shot
Nor visits with the elderly
Despite the time he’s got

There’s something sad about a man
Who says he only knows
The sweet smell of success and yet
He can’t describe a rose

And when it comes to going wild
He wears a paper hat
I think there’s something really sad
About a man like that



They tell me there’s a test match on

And our home team are playing

A welcome taste of summer

If you know what I’m saying


But –


No commentary on radio

No coverage on TV

They sold the rights to Spark and now

It’s on-line for a fee


It’s called ‘progress’ by those who say

We’ll like it if we lick it

But it don’t taste like summer and

It certainly ain’t cricket

21/12/20 SUMMER'S GONE


That’s it, we’ve had the solstice

The summer’s all but gone

Everyday get’s shorter

And darker from now on


Each daybreak brings more trauma

An ache in every joint

It isn’t even Christmas yet

But frankly, what’s the point?


You never get the gifts you want

The kids will all be screaming

The turkey will be tofu and

All sports confined to streaming


The crackers will be full of crap

Bad jokes and plastic trash

And something that you’ve eaten will

Bring on a nasty rash


The artificial Christmas tree

Strung up with flashing lights

Will be about as festive as

A shift-worker on nights


The weather will be miserable

The outlook will appall

And so I say sincerely

Bah humbug to you all



Whither will we go this year?

Centre, left or right?

And how will we be influenced?

And who will call the fight?


The ‘ups and downs’ and ‘ins and outs’

Of politics persist

And so the often ‘off and ons’

May yet provide a twist


But if the varied ‘pros and cons’

Are all to be brain-stormed

The answer surely is that a

Committee should be formed


27/01/2020 TERRY JONES


Another ‘Python’ has passed on

His legacy remains

A triumph and a treasury

Of tears from laughter-pains


Thanks to all the comedy

And mirth that he created

The genius of Terry Jones

Will long be celebrated




10/02/2020 FM ALL


We need to dumb down RNZ

Our youth must be appeased

And automation’s cheaper so

Bean-counters will be pleased


No other station plays the type

Of music that youth like

So Concert FM has been told

That it can take a hike


We need to be inclusive so

Elitism is out

Conforming and diversity

Is what it’s all about



Of course free speech should not be banned

Just carefully rationed out

Based on ideologies

We want to bring about


Free speech for those who think like us

And tow the party line

Who think that censorship of those

We love to hate is fine


Free speech for those whose politics

Coincide with ours

And want to grant the thought-police

More draconian powers


Some still don’t see the irony

But I find it absurd

That those who are against free speech

Insist on being heard



09/03/2020 CYCLE HELMETS


Cyclists must wear helmets due

To how car drivers drive

They may not be the culprits but

It helps them to survive


But if they rode on footpaths and

That reasoning holds true

Then surely all pedestrians

Will have to wear one too


If fifteen ‘Ks’ is safe for them

Then that should be the bar

At which to set the speed for cars

And leave bikes where they are


Then walkers too could use the roads

With cyclists, cars and busses

A simple quick solution

One wonders what the fuss is!




Two weeks in the wilderness

Taking in the views

Immersed in Mother Nature

Away from any news


Communing with the lakes and trees

Fording bush-lined streams

Sleeping where the starry skies

Make in-roads on your dreams


Emerging from the mountains

Into the nearest town

To find an eerie silence and

The nation in lock-down


The streets all but abandoned

Where traffic once was rife

Panic buying in the shops

The only sign of life


So where now is the wilderness?

And where society?

Here in the concrete jungle or

Back there where dreams were free?

06/04/20 UPSIDE DOWN


They say be still and know thyself

But hills and trees and town

All seem unfamiliar now

The world’s turned upside down


The autumn sun is shining through

Another lock-down day

The teddy-bears are watching but

There’s no-one out to play


The streets have been abandoned

The parks are all deserted

There’s no-one on the harbour where

The hills have been inverted


In its mirrored surface

They hang down from the sky

While we watch on from lock-down

And heave another sigh

20/04/20 CAPTAIN TOM


Round and round the garden

Like a teddy bear

Captain Tom Moore’s sponsored laps

Raised funds beyond compare


Give the man a knighthood

And thank those who chipped in

To support the heroes fighting

For our kith and kin


Over twenty million pounds

For the NHS

Still going strong at ninety-nine

Captain Tom – God bless


Round and round the garden

Like a teddy bear

Captain Moore has shown us what

Can happen when you care


04/05/20 THE HUSH


The neighbourhood in lock-down’s an

Extended sanctuary

Its solitude and silence has

A dreamtime quality


The hush is not a muffled pall

Like in a library

It has a sharp clean crispness of

Cathedral clarity


The harbour grey and languid

Reflects upon the past

A calm envelopes everything

But how long will it last?


A two-stroke motor-mower rips

The silence from the sky

Chews it up and spits it out

A trailer rattles by


A dog barks in the distance

Beyond the traffic’s drone

A tui in the lancewood tree

Practices alone


The water’s still impassive

The sky’s still overcast

The gentle hush though, torn to shreds

I knew it wouldn’t last



For containing covid

We all can stand up proud

And yet so many squeaking wheels

Have never squeaked so loud


I want to have a hand-out

Not just a helping hand

And compensation for the things

I failed to understand


Pick me, pick me

I want to be

A beneficiary

So long as there’s no stigma and

The money’s all tax-free


We need to make some changes though

To beneficiary bashing

Now that some of us do not

Deserve a verbal lashing


My lawyer says that legally

A subsidy’s my right

So technically on paper

I’m not a parasite


Pick me, pick me

I want to be

A beneficiary

So long as there’s no stigma and

The money’s all tax-free


So many billions in the cake

For your slice – stand in line

And there the squabbling begins

‘His slice is bigger than mine’


I’ll take this cash-for-nothing since

I have been doing it rough

But on the understanding that

I don’t think it’s enough


Pick me, pick me

I want to be

A beneficiary

So long as there’s no stigma and

The money’s all tax-free




For forty thousand years these caves

Revered as sacred sites

Have witnessed all of history’s

Passing days and nights


Forty thousand years is just

So hard to comprehend

As is the reason for their sad

Barbaric sudden end


The mindless greed of somebody

In Rio Tinto’s pay

To blow them up because a permit

Says that it’s OK


Defies all understanding

Affronts all decency

To wipe out forty thousand years

For what? –more currency!


What brutal atavistic mind

Devoid of cultured thought

Could contemplate then bring about

The devastation wrought


The crime they’ve perpetrated is

Not corporate vandalism

For such a heinous act that term’s

Too mild a euphemism





The world has been divided up

By I.D. politics

The content of one’s character

No longer in the mix


The world has been divided setting

Brother against brother

Each one more indignant and

Self-righteous than the other


The world has been divide up

Into abusive lists

Chauvinist misogynists

Or fascist feminists


Gender-based agendas

And favours curry votes

But also set extremists

At each other’s throats


Wedges of division

Are being driven in

To separate and judge each by

The colour of their skin


Racists and colonialists

V urban terrorists

And anarchists and arsonists

V white supremacists


The content of one’s character’s

No longer in the mix

Now the visionary dream

Is I.D. politics




No longer grunting cavemen

Clad in skins and furs

We’re now a global species

Of Easter Islanders


Technologically advanced

And so sophisticated

How long before we leave the world

Completely decimated


One wonders what great monument

Gazing out to sea

Will stand as testimony to

Our own stupidity


But maybe in a million years

Without humanity

Our planet will recover

And regain its harmony


And for another million years

Soft waves will lap the shores

Sweet breezes sweep the prairies

The mountaintops and moors


Fresh springs will feed the rivers

Clean rivers fill the lakes

Great forests ring with birdsong

Each time a new dawn breaks


And for another million years

With life co-ordinated

All trace that humans ever were

Will be obliterated


The greatest ever structures

Our species has produced

Have lasted but four thousand years

And now stand much reduced


All monoliths may well repel

The sun and wind and rain

But in a million years from now

Nothing will remain







With Walker gone by lunchtime

For feeding media sharks

And Muller forced to eat his own

Disparaging remarks


There’ll be some bogus reason why

Michelle fell foul of fate

A smorgasbord of reasons why

She’d too much on her plate


It seems the Cock-a-leaky soup

Was one of many courses

The media made a meal of it

But wouldn’t share its sauces


So what then are the take-aways?

The learnings and alerts?

You bite off more than you can chew

You get your just desserts




Party launches

Party lunches

Parties out to lunch



Unemployment crunch


Northland rains

Ti Wai pains

Absconding quarantiners

The puritans

The surly fans

The left and far-right leaners


Press releases

Rates increases

May well make us frown

Thank god we’ve no

Pandemic though

To bring the country down

10/08/20 HOARDINGS


Campaign season’s under way

The billboards are marauding

Go round any corner

And there’s another hoarding


A mushroom-like phenomenon

That sprouted over night

Defiling all our neighbourhoods

With an abhorrent sight


A plethora of posters

Polluting public places

A sudden surge of signage

A sea of smiling faces


Beseeching us to vote for them

– Come Election Day

Till then the mess of messages

Amassing here will stay



To oversee so many deaths

Is tragic not just sad

Then not to want what we have is

Quite callous if not mad


The Trump though may have given us

The spur that Kiwis need

To reach for the old ‘I’ll show him’

‘Massive outbreak indeed’!


By acting like the villain in

A children’s pantomime

The mouth of Donald Trump just might

Have done some good this time

07/09/20 FATHERS’ DAY


It’s Fathers’ Day today and so

If Dad is still in bed

Wake him up

With a nice cup

Of tea and toasted bread


And let him choose the toppings

Marmalade or jam


Or something light

Or if he wants it – ham


Then if he wants to lounge around

Wear track-pants just for fun

Have a beer

Or watch Top Gear

The rugby or F.1.


Or a film with Scharzenegger

Willis, Depp or Cruise

Remember: hey

It’s Fathers’ Day

He gets to pick and choose


But as for pricey presents

Here is my advice

A power-tool

May make him drool

A card though will suffice



21/09/20 STRONG TEA




Take away the ‘M’, ‘J’, ‘O’

The ‘E’ and ‘O’, ‘M’, ‘Y’

And you’ll reveal the hidden truth

Behind each brazen lie


Take away the ‘m’ from ‘team’

And anyone can see

That what you’ve got is not‘strong team’

It’s clearly just ‘strong tea’!


Then take the ‘j’ and ‘o’ from ‘jobs’

Though this may cause distress

You’ll find that what you’re left with

Is simply ‘more b s’


Take the ‘E’ and ‘o’, ‘m’, ‘y’

From ‘Economy’

And what you’ve got is ‘Better con’

For all to clearly see


The secret message reads ‘Strong Tea’

‘More b s’, ‘Better con’

The hidden truth revealed

With surplus letters gone.




The minor parties with ideas

Want to have a voice

And give the voting public more

Than just a Hobson’s choice


The big two though don’t want to share

Their air-time on TV

With those who may take votes off them

Under MMP


A two-horse race is what they want

To offer you and me

The lesser of two evils is though

Is poor democracy




You may be old

And good as gold

Or in a purple patch

Or you may find

You’re colour blind

And hues are hard to match


You may well think

You’re in the pink

And act as though it’s true

Or be as green

As a young teen

Or maybe feeling blue


Perhaps well-read

Or wear instead

A multi-coloured coat

But don’t lay blame

Or cry ‘for shame’

If you declined to vote


The cannabis reformers

Reached an all time high

Yet still not high enough to get

Their legislation by


Unlike the ‘end-of-life-choice’ lot

Who thanks to digging deep

Stopped their bill from being

Prematurely put to sleep


The Roses proved a thorny side

But still the Ferns won out

Our All Blacks went to Sydney and

Extinguished any doubt


Scot Dixon was crowned champion

The ‘Tron‘ was given praise

The US voting circus moved

Into its final phase


And since we’ve no new cases here

Of covid nineteen

The boys and girls and ghouls and ghosts

Came out for Halloween


16/11/20 THE ECONOMY


Finance is a fickle thing

And right now things are bad

Businesses are going broke

The market’s going mad


I’ve heard that the economy

Is suffering – how sad

It’s being anthropomorphized

A common, modern fad


Sometimes it gets excited

Sometimes it gets depressed

Or shows some signs of nervousness

That need to be addressed


We’ve pandered to its whimsies

We’ve tried to fill its cup

But even human sacrifices

Haven’t cheered it up


What’s needed is a new approach

To help it reach its dream

Perhaps a course of counselling

Could boost its self-esteem

30/11/20 A CERTAIN AGE

At a time of innocence

Ignorance and fears

We judge and pass self-sentencing

Upon our coming years

‘Don’t let me live past forty’

But as that deadline nears

Our old youth-centred worldview

Matures and disappears

We recognise we’re needed by

Our kids and parents too

And that we live for others

To help them all get through

It’s surely not worth living with

Grey hair and wrinkled skin’

‘Don’t let me live past sixty where

Senility sets in

Forgetting what you’ve said of course

Is really not that bad

And forgetting what you’ve said of course

Is really not that bad

‘Don’t let me live past eighty

I don’t want to be ancient

A burden on society

A grumpy bedbound patient’

It’s not until you get there though

And recollections stir

You realize just how naive

And ageist you once were

I’ll live to be a hundred and

I’ll get that telegram

I’ll live to be hundred and

I’ll have champagne and ham

I’ll live to be a hundred though

The candles on my cake

Will add to global warming

And the party cause a quake

I’ll not let others tell me what

I should and shouldn’t do

’Cause fuck it at a hundred you’re

One of the fearless few



Christmas is coming

The goose is getting fat

But the vegetarians

Are having none of that


They want a tofu turkey

With pumpkin humus stuffing

But if you haven’t got one

Don’t fret you’re missing nothing


Only honest vegans

Will openly admit

They have a healthy diet but

Their meals all taste like porridge

28/12/20 20 20 REVIEW



With twenty-twenty hindsight we

Review the year just past

Had we but seen it coming

We would have been aghast


There were fires, floods and droughts

Cyclones and tsunamis

Devastating earthquakes

The calling out of armies


Coups and insurrections

Protests and defections

Champions and villains

Extinctions and elections


Celebrities that passed away

Sporting wins and losses

Unprecedented challenges

For workers and their bosses


We all went into lockdown

Or social distancing

As Covid nineteen overshadowed

Almost everything


So farewell twenty-twenty

Good riddance, no contrition

We will not look back fondly on

Your dystopian vision


But looking to the future

What does the New Year hold?

Will global warming burn us up?

Or leave us in the cold


Will fracking crack our planet?

Will plastics choke our seas?

Will greed and hedonism bring

Our species to its knees?


Will vaccines conquer covid?

Will Charles attain the crown?

Will Trump concede defeat?

Will house prices come down?


Will we win in the cricket or

Retain the America’s cup?

And what is going to happen when

The one-eyed woke wake up?


Will all the virtue signalling

Continue to appal?

Will measures for equality

Extend to include all?


Will fake-news and hate-speech increase

Or simply fade away?

Will male netballers ever get

Respect or equal pay?


Will Christmas bring us insights

Into the joy of giving?

If we knew all the answers

Life wouldn’t be worth living



7/1/2019 THE NEW YEAR

The old year has departed

From places near and far

Around the world with fireworks

It blazed its last hurrah

It followed in succession

As every old year must

Consigned now to the history books

Where headlines turn to dust

The old year has expired

Its numbered days all spent

A new one has replaced it now

Chock full of good intent

Stepping up to take its place

All primed and set to go

A naive thing with bright wide eyes

How little does it know!


New Zealand’s future leaders

Have once again returned

To saunter through Dunedin’s streets

On line and unconcerned

Sucking on their water bottles

Earplugs in both ears

Eyes fixed on their handheld screens

Conversing with their peers

Walking into doors and signs

Bumping into poles

Tripping over kerbs and steps

Or falling into holes

Pausing as they cross the road

To read some vital tweet

Or view the latest image of

What someone had to eat

Putting into practice

Evolution’s latent thrust

Of natural selection

As another bites the dust

Perhaps they have a need for speed

Perhaps they’re running late

But now they have Lime scooters

To accelerate their fate

Best wrap them up in cotton wool

So they come to no harm

Or better yet a fadge of wool

Underneath each arm

Are these our future leaders?

Are these the best we’ve got?

These lemming-like automatons

Dear God I do hope not!


What would you be needin’

In a flat down in Dunedin

Other than a beer fridge and a bed

With a safe place for your stash

And a floor to store your trash

Then you’re housing needs are met it could be said


With ceilings insulated

And the walls well decorated

With student art and traffic signs and cones

A kettle for a kitchen

And the pool when skin starts itchin’

You’ve a home away from home with undertones


You’ll need somewhere to study

In the morning or the nuddy –

’Cause it’s not as cold down here as some folk think

And if down-load speed’s essential

With our Giga-town potential

You can surf away each day from link to link

18/2/2019 DIVE DEEP

Where do true competitors go

For perfect line and length

They learn to go within themselves

To find their inner strength

What did Trubridge do to bridge

The fear of being crushed

He dived to depths within himself

Where all self doubt is hushed


Mr Millennial had to re-boot

His hand-held device while out for a scoot

He had no crash helmet or hooter to toot

But took out two walkers, a bike and a ute

His front wheel locked up like a cat in a chute

And he flew through the air like a tossed piece of fruit

His injury list was described as acute

With a bump on his head that came up a ‘beaut’

The scooters were banned, the company got cute

As other Lime cities were following suit

An e-mail campaign turned out to be moot

As it wasn’t addressing the problem’s real root

For some it’s a laugh and a bit of a hoot

But A.C.C. compo is coughing up loot

And Mr Millennial, poor Mr Millennial

Mr Millennial still has to re-boot



Despite the daily dosage

From places overseas

Of shootings and of bombings

And of vile atrocities


Despite the part they know they play

In dealing the fear

The media seem quite surprised

That this should happen here


They interviewed an expert

Broadcasted his advice:

‘Not to name the shooter’ but

Deemed that too high a price


Complicit as a platform

With which to create fame

Each channel wants to be the first

To name the killer’s name

1/4/2019 THE ISMISTS

You can’t shake hands with others

When both your hands are fists

You cannot bridge a schism

When your ‘ism’ still exists



Racism and sexism

And ageism persists

Along with other ‘isms’

On ever growing lists



The fault is always theirs not ours

Everyone insists

And my ‘ism’ trumps your ‘ism’

So say the ‘ism-ists’

15/4/2019 JOHN


We all have our own memories

Of the John we knew

The one’s I choose are of a man

With things to say and do


He’d set a brisk pace walking

Talking as he strode

Aware of all the noxious weeds

On any given road


He’d visit on occasions

Just to shoot the breeze

To share his thoughts on gardening

Or world calamities


John would bring the biscuits

I’d provide the tea

We’d pass a pleasant afternoon

Discussing poetry


Familiar with the classics

His knowledge outstripped mine

Well read, well bred, articulate

His eyes would dance and shine


But even those bright opals

Were outshone by his shoes

That gleamed with spit and polish

Reflecting old-school views


Views like common decency

Like helping when you can

Like taking time to spare a thought

For your fellow man


Like pride in one’s appearance

To show respect for others

Like sacrifice and service

With a regiment of brothers


That customs and tradition

Had meaning and a place

That music, arts and literature

Were where we would find grace


We also talked philosophy

Politics and sport

Religion and Theosophy

And lessons history taught


Our afternoons flew by – and then

So too the passing years

Bringing us up to today

A time of grief and tears


His troubled journey over now

His physical presence gone

But like his eyes and polished shoes

His memory will shine on



Twinkle, twinkle little star

How I wonder what you are

Like a luminous cigar

You move at lightning speed

Back and forth across the sky

At first down low and then up high

No one knows quite how you fly

Or what it is you need

You’re not a bird, you’re not a plane

You vanish then come back again

A mystery you will remain

A U.F.O. indeed


13/5/2019 MOTHERS

It’s time to celebrate our mothers

And it seems our motherly others

So-called ‘work-mums’ are in line

For jewellery gifts, bouquets and wine


Don’t hug her though or shake her hand

As workplace touching may be banned

Just an air kiss and a gift

Will help us make this mental shift


It’s all about inclusiveness

All kinds of mums deserve less stress

So maybe Spark will run some ads

On mother’s day for solo dads



Animal extinctions

Global warming, war

Radiation, pesticides

Droughts and floods and more


Oceans filled with plastics

Heavy metals too

Should we change or carry-on

The way we always do


Some say that we’ve already passed

The point of no return

That judgement day is on its way

We simply didn’t learn


We’re standing on the precipice

Of annihilation

Looking at the end of days

For each and every nation


Apocalyptic changes

Depletion and pollution

Famine and diseases

And no imminent solution


It will be deemed a miracle

If anyone survives

But it’s business though as usual

Until that day arrives


10/6/2019 SHORTAGES


First the measles vaccine

Ran low when most required

Now the flu-jab stockpiles

Have practically expired


This is no coincidence

It’s something more outrageous

I think these vaccine shortages

Have now become contagious


24/6/2019 GREEDY CEO


Another greedy CEO

With money on his mind

Has been found out although in truth

There not that hard to find


It seems the millions that they’re paid

Just simply aren’t enough

They want somebody else to pay

For all their personal stuff


And down here in Dunedin

Right on the harbour side

A fertilizer CEO

Is trying to decide


If rugby players and their park

Should be allowed to stay

Or whether planned expansions and

More profit will hold sway


Ravensdown in Ravensbourn

Has ravenous intentions

It wants the use of Moller Park

To build its planned extensions


Get used to it New Zealand

In stoushes of this sort

Where big money is involved

Culture counts for nought



A word or two of sage advice:-

In life be brave but fair

And whether wealth or problem

Be prepared to share


Use common sense and decency

Observe the golden rule

Respect the wise but list to

The poet and the fool


Take time to smell the roses

Take pride in all you do

But most importantly of all

Unto thyself be true




Strapped into a capsule

Atop a Saturn five

Not knowing if they’d make the moon

Or even just survive


Ignition of the boosters left

Their very being shaken

As they embarked upon the greatest

Journey ever taken


Rising up sedately

Holding straight and true

Shedding emptied fuel tanks

They climbed into the blue


Streaking through the atmosphere

Then in to outer space

To travel at phenomenal speeds

Far from the human race


The darkened lull of nothingness

As planet Earth receded

The waiting and the weightlessness

Their progress unimpeded


The landing module disengaged

Two astronauts on board

Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin

Their future fame assured


Descending to the surface

With systems overloaded

Amidst alarms and calls of ‘go’

Their confidence eroded


Off course and over boulders

On which they could be stranded

With only seconds left of fuel

The little Eagle landed


One small step for man took place

A quote we now all know

That giant leap for all mankind

Gave hope to us below


The loneliest man to ever live

Then went behind the moon

Cut off from humanity

Forgotten all too soon


Michael Collins was that man

Who circled like a shark

And while his mates made history

He was in the dark


Immersed in his own personal

Eclipse of Planet Earth

Watching the horizon

Awaiting its rebirth


From the other window

Nothing could be seen

But the twinkling stars

And the emptiness between


Lost in radio silence

Completely lost to view

To all of Earth’s humanity

And his fellow crew


Who walked upon the surface of

The moon in utter awe

Boldly going where no man

Had ever gone before


Mesmerised we watched as they

Set a flag in place

Took photos and rock samples then

Fare-welled Tranquillity base


A perfect lunar lift-off

Their docking done and then

Three heroes set their course anew

And headed home again


The trauma of re-entry

The splash-down in the sea

And then emerging from the pod

For all the world to see


Fifty years ago this week

While handing out cigars

Our species took a baby step

In reaching for the stars



Due to our identities

Some differences exist

So if you don’t agree with me

You’ll be some sort of ‘ist’


Because Jacinda is a mum

Calling her ‘part time’

Makes Simon Bridges sexist

Grant’s logic is sublime


Bridges though is Maori

Grant Robertson is not

So that makes Grant a racist

According to this plot


No-one though would call him that

Out of utter fear

Of being labelled ‘homophobe’

Since Robertson is queer


And before you shoot me down

For pointing out these views

Remember you’ll be next in line

For someone to abuse


I could be older than you are

I could be younger too

So either way you’re ageist if

You slate my point of view


19/8/2019 WOODSTOCK


They talk about it wistfully

The freedom and the hope

The rain, the mud, the music

The free love and the dope


I guess you had to be there

But some say those who were

Simply can’t recall it

The whole thing was a blur


Woodstock was a happening

A festival so rare

That those who do remember

Probably weren’t there


2/9/2019 FATHER'S DAY


Our fathers may be rich or poor

They may be young or old

Our fathers may be close at hand

Or left out in the cold


Defined by their careers

Or the sports they play

Or just their generosity

Or the things they say


Our fathers may be big or small

No-frills or debonair

But all they want this Sunday is

For you to know they care

16/9/2019 FOR THE RECORD


As stylish as a stylus

On a spinning forty-five

The sound was warm and vibrant

Rounded and alive


But music then was digitized

Compacted cleverly

For what they called the C.D. side

Of the industry


What goes around though comes around

So the saying goes

And nothing goes around so much

As the record shows


As a disc of vinyl

A twelve-inch, grooved L.P.

Turning on the table

At a stable thirty-three




As temperatures and C.O.2.

And sea levels get higher

The voice out in the wilderness

Becomes the mainstream choir


The tipping point has been attained

The ‘hundredth monkey’ found

And climate change awareness

Is starting to abound


And with it global action

To wrestle back our fate

If only for the children

Let’s hope it’s not too late

14/10/2019 THIS WEEK


A Nobel prize for Ahmed,

A typhoon for Japan,

The Turks invaded Syria,

Eliud Kipchoge ran –


A sub-two-hour marathon,

The first space-walker died,

In the States a second whistle blower

Claimed Trump lied,


More Californian fires

While back here in N.Z. –

The sky is falling in

As cricket goes to Spark instead


The arrival of Endeavour was

Accorded no affection,

And half the people voted in

Their local body election



Where there’s smoke there’s fire
And lots of water too
As flames leapt ever higher
Each dedicated crew

Kept their hoses playing
Until all flames were quenched
The whole convention centre though
Was caked with soot and drenched

The basement lake of water
Bursting at the seams
Was then flushed down the gurgler
Just like the All Blacks’ dreams



The rise and fall of Ffordd Pen Llech

Has been a sorry tale

Of subterfuge and trickery

But justice will prevail


At last a level playing field

For measuring two slopes

As Harlech’s lane’s inspected by

Someone who knows the ropes


Some say here and some say there

Is where one marks the fall

So, a middle of the road approach

Should be fair to all


Champions of Baldwin Street

In truth always believed

The title of world’s steepest street

Would one day be retrieved


And now that all the facts are in

I’m inclined to agree

That Baldwin is the steeper street

And by some degree



There is a whole fruit salad bowl

Of world currant affairs

To cherry-pick on any date

For use in rhyming pairs


The orange man may be impeached

For trying to cut a deal

And plumbing presidential lows

To bolster his appeal


Some think this is ridiculous

While some find it sublime

It seems he’s in a jam of sorts

And running out of time


I heard it through the grapevine though

Despite appalling folly

He hasn’t been affected by

Remorse or melon-choly


They say in love and politics

That it takes two to tango

But if thrown out of office

Then just where will this man go?


And at the core of politics

There’s substance to the myth

That some remove the little pips

And some just take the pith


09/12/2019 ISOLATED


Central’s lakes cause grave headaches

As water-levels rise

And tourist towns are flooded in

A summer-time surprise


The West coast route knocked out by slips

Due to rain and hail

The raging Rangitata has

Washed out both road and rail


Te Waipounamu cut in half

The South is isolated

Severed from humanity

The North is devastated






Half-drunk cups of coffee

Are scattered here and there

Put down and then forgotten as

My mind moves on elsewhere


And overnight the borrowers

Steal things from open spaces

Then cunningly return them to

Most unexpected places


I’m constantly reminded that

My memory is going

My whatsit cells have thingummied

Without my even knowing


It’s true I get a bit confused

My train of thought slips by

They say I’m absent minded but

Sorry, where was I?


Oh yes I was recalling

How things have changed because

Both physically and mentally

I’m not the man I was


The best days of my life it seems

Are now all in the past

And notches on my trouser belt

Are disappearing fast


My hair has turned a silver grey

My eyebrows have grown thick

I used to look like Jesus once

But now it’s more Saint Nick


Yes more like Father Christmas

But Christmas time is fun

No matter what the weather

Be it rain or snow or sun


Christmas time is special

And last year for a treat

I invited everyone

To come and share a seat


I put up decorations

Festooned the Yuletide tree

I even wore a silly hat

In front of company


I had an open fire and

Laid on the whole shebang

Got out the ancient carol sheets

And everybody sang


We tucked in to the turkey

Roast veg and Christmas pud’

Then pulled our Christmas crackers as

We dined on all things good


Not knowing whether Santa Clause

Had been caught out in drifts

I ladled out the gluhwein

And handed out the gifts


Everyone was happy

But simply wondered why

I was having Christmas in

The middle of July!


14/1/2019 FIFTY WAYS

(to the cadence of Fifty ways to leave your lover – with apologies to Paul Simon)

The problem is all inside your Auckland-centric dome

The answer is easy if you’re not prepared to roam

I’d like to help you in your struggle for a home

There must be fifty ways to live in Auckland

Fifty ways to live in Auckland

You just sleep in a shack Jack

Or go open-plan Stan

No need for a roof Ruth

You just listen to me

Say buy a house-bus Gus

Don’t need to discuss much

Just set up a tee-pee

And get mortgage free

Yeah you sleep in a tent Kent

You don’t even pay rent

Or share an apartment

You just listen to me

You purchase a shed Fred

Or an empty plot Dot

Or go somewhere else Else

And get a proper property



Though the night was black as pitch

The rain as thick as syrup

We heard a small vibrato voice

A tree-frog’s cheerful ‘chirrup’

Somewhere in a ponga tree

Giving it his all

He bellowed out a trilling song

His hopeful mating call

All night long the rain came down

And all night long he sang

So when the dawn broke cold and wet

I felt a certain pang

For still the frog was calling out

His ‘anyone out there?’ sound

Despite his plaintive plea for love

No soul-mate had he found

Another day of constant rain

Forming garden ponds

Weighing down the bows and leaves

And saturating fronds

Another night of dripping cloud

Obscured the moon’s faint glow

Cloaked everything in darkness

And soaked the world below

Another round of serenades

Filled the neighbourhood

And then his croak fell silent

He’d done everything he could

But nestled in the ponga tree

As clouds began to clear

A pair of shiny tree frogs

With grins from ear to ear

For them no night was now too long

For them no day too wet

For now two little tree-frogs sang

A ribbetting duet



Nelson’s tall column of grey smoke

Grows ever wider and higher

While lock, stock and valley and hillside

Are smothered and ravaged by fire


Tinder dry grassland and forests

Primed by the wind and the sun

Are snack-food for hungry wild fires

Devouring all on the run


Pilots are stretched to the limit

Dousing the flames from the air

While on the ground crews are exhausted

And families are racked with despair


Flare-ups and out-breaks continue

No respite as night closes in

But an all-out community effort

Gives a sense that they’re starting to win


Embers and ashes and charcoal

And smouldering pockets and seams

Have fashioned a nightmarish landscape

From what once was a valley of dreams


The volatile flames – an inferno

Creating a charred and scarred hell

While in Auckland a Burger King fry-up

Is causing an unpleasant smell


Life is so much harder for

Those with more than one front door

Investing in the rental racquet

Trying to make a tidy packet

What could happen? What’s the worst?

Well say the housing bubble burst

And poorer folk could then afford

A home instead of room and board

Attacks on tax are nothing new

It’s what we Kiwis tend to do

Like pointing out the fiscal pains

Of paying tax on capital gains

Consider this though when you sell

There’s lots you can write-off as well

If you get less than what you paid

Just claim on all the losses made


11/3/2019 REGRETS

We always seem to deviate

From the lives we plan

I wish I’d never sang that song

‘Je ne regret rein’


We may regret some things we did

So we could brag or boast

But it’s the things we didn’t do

That we regret the most


The path we never travelled

Unravelled or explored

The opportunities we missed

Declined or just ignored


The chances never taken

The thing we left unsaid

Now agitated by regret

Plays havoc in our head


I wonder if Brexit

Will take the next exit

Or carry on down the same path

May may be OK

With another delay

But Europe will have the last laugh



We just don’t get democracy

Or how it’s s’posed to work

The idea of majority rule

Is such a crazy quirk


Just doing what most people want

Is utterly absurd

When only our opinions are

The ones that should be heard


You see we’re used to getting

Everything that we demand

Why can’t the voting masses

Simply do as we command


We need the whole electorate

To change without delay

Or we’ll stamp our feet and hold our breath

Until we get our way

22/4/2019 NOTRE-DAME

So many names forgotten

From France’s history

But Quasimodo rings a bell

Now tell me wasn’t he


Synonymous with Notre dame

Just like Joan of Arc

And Napoleon Bonaparte

They each one left their mark


As has this conflagration

That gutted in one day

Eight hundred years of majesty

Where people came to pray


A testament to craftsmanship

Standing proud and tall

For centuries its beauty’s been

A sanctuary for all


Consumed in an inferno

Ravaged by a fire

But Notre-Dame is not done yet

Her spirit will inspire


A billion pledged to resurrect

This monument to God

Not quite so much for Paris’s

Forsaken and down-trod


Duck shooting season keeps alive

Our yen for killing things

Our semi-automatics are

The wind beneath their wings

Guns and ammo are not cheap

Ducks cost a lot to kill

But you can train a good gun dog

To always grab the bill




The experts got it wrong again

Regards our nearest neighbour

This time no new prime minister

The Liberals won not Labour


What does this mean for Kiwis

Living in the lucky nation?

A fair go or continuance

Of their exploitation?


For even-handed treatment they

Can only hope and pray

But it seems ‘tell them they’re dreamin’ will

Remain the Aussie way?






They say from little acorns

Mighty oaks do grow

And from tiny tributaries

Mighty rivers flow


They say an epic journey

Begins with just one step

And every great adventure

Begins with saying yep


17/6/2019 I SPY


I spy with my little eye

On something beginning with you

Somebody said that you might be a red

So we’re watching your family too


You may be annoyed or bit paranoid

That our little eye high in the sky

Keeps us abreast of the things you like best

Not just what you say, wear or buy


We know what you drink, we know what you think

We know that you’re wondering how?

We see all you do, here’s proof that it’s true

You’re reading this poem right now!


1/7/2019 FAIR PLAY


Professionals and amateurs

Went at it head to head

Those on high paid contracts should

Have won, but no, instead


The men emerged victorious

Heroes of the hour

So let’s give them some plaudits

Let’s hear it for ‘Boy power’


They demonstrated equal skills

On and off the ball

Their pay-gap due to gender though

Still not addressed at all


Work of equal value should

Be paid with equal pay

Or do the goalposts shift each time

The gap’s the other way?



Where Wisden’s is the bible

A testament-like tome

Some thought our Kane un-able

To guide the Black Caps home

A David and Goliath type

Encounter in the cricket

Saw an Indian exodus

On a sticky wicket

The bookies had the Indians

Well favoured to prevail

Their crunching of the numbers though

Was all to no avail

Their ‘Lords’ prayer’ truly answered where

They’ll face the fancied Brits

Our bowlers though will do the job

And blitz the Brits to bits

29/7/2019 HOT STUFF


A hail storm halts the Tour de France

Apparently that’s rare

But is it global warming

Or is it all hot air?


It’s heating up in Britain

For most that’s something new

As London topped at thirty-eight

The Irish team did too


Plus Boris’s house-warming

As he got his heart’s desire

Would’ve bumped some temperatures

Up a little higher




While vegans seek to save the world

By cutting out all meat

That doesn’t mean they have the right

To say what we should eat

Admittedly some harm is done

By what we eat each day

But that harm is to others so

In our minds that’s OK

The innocent may suffer sure

That’s well understood

But even if some lives are lost

It’s for the greater good

Their facts are irrefutable

Their arguments make sense

I don’t dispute the science

However, in defense

Let me cite an argument

That has been given voice

Others have no say since it’s

Our body – it’s our choice

26/8/2019 THE PAPERBOY

Morning’s dawning glory glows

As from the East horizon grows

A sense of light and life that flows

And gently washes over those

Who lie asleep in sweet repose

With waterbottle toasting toes

Roundly curled in foetal form

’Neath duvet womb secure and warm

Snuggled deep in blissful bed

Feathered pillow under head

While outside to the tui’s sound

The paperboy is on his round




For those in hurricane Dorian’s path

Climate change got real

The Amazon still burns and leaves

A scar that will not heal


In Hong Kong protests carry on

Despite a full repeal

In Britain there’s dissention over

Bo-Jo’s no-deal deal


The Loch Ness monster’s DNA

Suggests it is an eel

And Team New Zealand’s mono-foil

Had its big reveal


A pilot scheme was introduced

To give school kids a meal

While laws to clean up water saw

Polluters squirm and squeal


Peter Ellis passed away

Before his last appeal

But there’s good news for the All Blacks

As their game-plan moves congeal



The ‘A’ grade rugby world cup

Kicked off this week in style

All other news takes second place

If only for a while

The Russians got the old bum’s rush

Japan put on a pile

The French found Argentina’s team

Something of a trial

The Aussies ground down Fiji

Despite their guts and guile

And the All Blacks beat the Springboks

That’s gotta make you smile

7/10/2019 TUIA TWO-FIFTY

Tuia two-fifty’s here

The boats are in the bay

Let’s get this party started and

Make sail without delay

And let us all endeavour

Each one in their own way

To understand the origins

Of what we have today


Let’s value and appreciate

Fine vessels such as these

Their spectacle and craftsmanship

Are guaranteed to please

Replicas of ‘taonga’

That sailed the seven seas

In search of new horizons

And opportunities


Tuia two-fifty’s here

It’s time to celebrate

Not rock the boat with xenophobic

Messages of hate

We need not let the separatists

Take over and dictate

A pessimistic outcome from

A negative debate


Let’s focus on the positive

The paradise we share

As privileged New Zealanders

Blessed with clean fresh air

Blessed with lakes and mountains

And scenery most rare

Our pristine bush and beaches are

A joy beyond compare


We have a can do attitude

With volunteers that care

We have the world’s best sailors

A rugby team with flair

We understand that teamwork

Can take us anywhere

We could be inspirational

If we but only dare


We have the means to travel

The chance to work and play

Our health and wealth and wellness marks

Are more than just OK

So let us all endeavour

Each one in their own way

To understand the origins

Of what we have today

21/10/2019 FEMINISM 20-20


Far-left fascist feminists

With messages of hate

Have just been told their conference

Will have to relocate


Massey University

Refuses to provide

A platform for the bullying

Of those they would deride


Their shameful lack of tolerance

Is there for all to see

How does one drag these dinosaurs

Out of bigotry?


Convinced because they’re women

That they’re always in the right

They’re just as bad as those who think

It’s O.K. to be white

4/11/2019 A BIRD OF NOTE


The hoiho is no tenor

He has no silver throat

And yet he’s on our fiver so

He is a bird of note


He needs some real encouragement

To keep his hopes afloat

As his chances of avoiding

Extinction are remote


At least he has a poem though

And one that you can quote

So for ‘Bird of the year’ please give

The wee hoiho your vote

There’s never been a seabird crowned

As our ‘Bird of the year’

So vote for hoiho while you can

Before they disappear

18/11/2019 OK BOOMER


OK Boomer, settle down

Is how we patronize

Yeah, whatever, if you like

It’s time for beddy-byes


OK Boomer take your pills

Before you have a stroke

You’re being old and grumpy

Whereas we’re both wise and woke


We need no cogent argument

We’re genuine Gen Zee

And ‘OK Boomer’s what we say

When we disagree


We offer no alternative

But can’t be over-ruled

When we say OK Boomer

You know that you’ve been schooled


02/12/2019 ISLA


In Te Waipounamu

Right on summer’s dawn

Unto Jess and Jessica

A baby child is born


Emerging from her mother’s womb

In to the arms of love

Her Dad a doting father

Her Mum a gentle dove


Welcome little Isla

A miracle unfurled

Welcome to your family

Welcome to the world


Anxious to get started

To meet and see and do

To sample all life’s pleasures

To feed and sleep and poo


Then feed and poo and cry a cry

That no-one can ignore

Then feed and poo and feed and poo

And poo and poo some more


Welcome little Isla

Your role now understood

And welcome Jess and Jesse to

A life of parenthood

16/12/2019 WHAKAARI


Amidst the pall of pain and grief

The questioning commences

The randomness of time and place

Their fate and consequences


We live upon the fragile skin

Of a volcanic land

So much beneath the surface that

We do not understand


The victims of Whakaari and

Their friends and families

Are in our hearts and minds and have

Our deepest sympathies




Australia’s on fire

What’s needed is hero

Someone who’ll inspire

Not another Nero


Scot Morrison is fiddling

While all round Roma burns

And obdurately piddling

On climate-change concerns


He even went on holiday

To get away from journos

A time for him to rest and play

Away from the infernos


The people though are trying

To make him understand

That animals are dying

Frying on the land


Temperatures are rising

Each day a record high

But there’s no compromising

Though smoke chokes up the sky


And where there’s smoke there’s fire

Consuming trees and grass

But this climate change denier

Has his head stuck up in the clouds




1/1/2018 STUFFED

I know a jolly fat man

Who wears a thin disguise

To break and enter houses

And fill up on mince pies


It isn’t just the turkey that

Gets stuffed on Christmas day

We all revert to gluttony

In putting food away


From full on breakfast banquet

To Christmas dinner feast

The eating turns a waif-like man

Into a bloated beast


Non-stop sweets and nibbles

Nuts to crack and crunch

Followed by a sweet mince pie

Then something light for lunch


Champagne ham cooked on the bone

A salad – for a laugh

A creamy avocado, bar its stone

Cut clean in half


Lettuce leaves and radishes

Green peppers and shallots

Tomatoes and yes broccoli

And onion dips in pots


And then of course the main event

The proper sit-down job

With everything imaginable

Shoved into your gob


Carrots, spuds and parsnips

Brussel-sprouts and peas

And turkey lashed with gravy

Is always sure to please


Slacken off the trouser belt

To fit another course

Flaming, steaming pudding

With brandy-butter sauce


Irish coffee with a nip

Christmas cake with icing

A box of dates or figs on plates

Are all just too enticing


Perhaps a chocolate orange

And then a little nap

Before some cheese and crackers

Just to fill that final gap


At drinking we’re no better

Spirits, wine and beer

And what will be the outcome?

– Same again next year


A time of celebration

And helping those in need

Has turned into an orgy

Of gastronomic greed


Conspicuous consumption is

The only way to go

As bank accounts diminish

And our waste-lines bulge and grow


We may not have the holly

Or the jolly ‘ho ho ho’

But we’ve all become fat Santas

Waiting for a friendly tow

15/1/2018 GARGOYLES

Water sloshes and galumphs

Against the harbour wall

The jobbled tide is on the rise

And spoiling for a brawl


Its brackish voice is guttural

And full of glottal stops

Licking at the slips it sips

And gobbles up the slops


Sloshing and galumphing

To a rhythm of their own

Random waves in peaks and troughs

Sigh and snort and moan


Their sound – no song of Sirens

’Tis more the haunted howls

Of long disgruntled gargoyles

And the gurgle of their bowels


Sloshing and galumphing

Galumphing underground

Gurgling and gargling

Until the tide turns round


This summer’s been a corker

With orca in the harbour

And hottest months on record

According to the barber


Who seems to know a thing or two

On stuff that really matters

Like what to name the baby

And Pakistan’s best batters


And if we think it’s too hot now

Beware the golden rule

It always gets much hotter

Once the kids go back to school


Around the world stuff’s going down

Just in the week that was

A mass of bombs in Syria

A hot air balloon in ‘Oz’


In Taiwan it was buildings

As earthquakes struck again

In Pyeong Yang it’s officials

With a norovirus strain


Stocks and shares went plummeting

– Investors sold a pup

Be grateful we live where we do

Where stuff keeps going up

26/2/2018 CYCLONE GITA

Cyclone Gita ‘gotta’ ‘lotta’

People quite upset

With vengeful, violent, viscous winds

And days of constant wet


Seas were caused to lash our shores

Some floods cut regions off

Water, water everywhere

But not a drop to quaff


Power lost to many parts

Tourists trapped by slips

Panic buying in the shops

Supplies brought in by ships


Frightened at the prospect

Of being isolated

Some found the storm so scary that

They self evacuated


It seems that the proverbial ’s

About to hit the fan

As mayors around the country seek

A comprehensive plan


That’s big enough and blunt enough

To knock the you-know-what

Out of every ‘freedom camper’

Whether they’re at fault or not


Calling ‘defecators’ – ‘freedom campers’

Tars the lot

And just fining them for sleeping

Shows how mercenary we’ve got

26/3/2018 FIFTY EIGHT

Facebook coughs to garnering

By underhanded means

A pair of has-beens hacks their way

Around the Northland greens


Fonterra loses millions

Plunket counts the beans

Middlemore’s new culture

Is causing public scenes


Another species goes extinct

No more rhino genes

England out for fifty-eight

Our bowlers were machines


Judged on age, ethnicity

And gender’s just so bad

So much for the dream that

Martin Luther King once had


Demographic profiles

That single people out

Avoid accountability

But give the bigots clout


Simply crunch the numbers

Big data doesn’t lie

The evidence is evident

And here’s the reason why


Those most likely to employ

Prejudicial views

Will work in immigration

Wear ties and shine their shoes


Those whose views conflict with ours

Deserve to be berated

They’re ill-informed and brainwashed

And need re-educated


It’s ‘they’ who live in bubbles

Never you nor I

It’s ‘they’ who cannot see the truth

And ‘they’ who live the lie


Their discrimination is

Offensive and absurd

Whereas, ours is fine and just

And based on stuff we’ve heard


They must be taught to tolerate

And made to understand

If they can’t be inclusive

They’ll be ostracized and banned


The trouble with free-speech is that

Free-thinkers may abuse it

I’m all for hypocrisy

Except when others use it

7/5/2018 BREAK A LEG


There’s drama in Dunedin

A tragedy’s in play

The board have acted promptly

In calling it a day


The curtain falling swiftly

Not phased in over stages

The old ‘To be or not to be’

Now no-longer rages


No more story-telling

Or social boundaries crossed

A fiscal risk assessment means

Our fortune has been lost


It all comes down to bums on seats

And theatre hasn’t got ’em

But actors know that bottom lines

Come out of Shakespeare’s Bottom



Isn’t it funny

How some can hear ‘yanni’

With others it’s ‘laurel’ that’s clear

But rainy or sunny

You can bet for all money

Your forecast’s the one you won’t hear


There’s been a debacle

About Mr Markle

Not giving his daughter away

But she, with a sparkle

Explained it’s not our-call

We just hope his heart is OK


The outlook looked bleak

For the mild and the meek

With workers unpaid for their time

But the budget this week

Gave wellbeing a tweak

In parliament’s own pantomime

4/6/2018 GYPSY DAY

They say today is Gypsy day

And all across the land

With military precision

In manoeuvres all well planned


Farmers and share-milkers

Are putting on head scarves

And selling wooden clothes pegs

As they shift their cows and calves


They’re setting up their caravans

Where if you’re feeling bold

You can cross their palms with silver

To have your fortune told


Tarot cards and crystal balls

Give insights – but beware

Lest mycoplasma bovis is

The only thing they share


18/6/2018 SHOW TIME

Roll up, roll up it’s underway

The greatest show on Earth

No not the national field days

Nor Jacinda giving birth


We’re talking world cup football

The truly global game

The passion and the drama

The glory and the shame


It’s not a demonstration of

Some sport that’s on the up

It’s not a mere Olympics

It’s the actual World Cup


Ok so we’re not in it

And it’s not on ‘free-to-air’

But at least there’s ‘squeaky bum time’

For fervent fans who care


2/7/2018 GIFTING


The P.M. was most gracious

In calling it an honour

When their little baby had

A name bestowed upon her


But no-one beats the British

When it comes to gifting names

An act of generosity

Instead shot down in flames


Their largess was unbounded

In gifting names to places

Apparently it’s different though

From putting names to faces


They’re lovin’ livin’ in Levin

Now that’s the attitude

They’re grateful for their gift

To not be would be rude

16/7/2018 FREE SPEECH


We live in a democracy

Where human rights are clear

Free-speech for those who want to say

The things we want to hear


Those with controversial views

(That’s ones that we don’t share)

Should not be given venues

Nor broadcast time on air


Let’s censor and suppress them

And the things they want say

Let’s gang-up on those bullies

And bend them to our way


Let’s not resort to reasoning

Or rational debate

What we need’s compassion

Not speeches fuelled by hate


Let’s keep one eye wide open

Let’s listen with one ear

Let’s all conform together

And not give in to fear


I can’t abide those hate-speech types

Where do they get their gall

They fill me with such loathing

We ought to ban them all


There’s no place here for hate-speech

And for what it’s worth

Anyone promoting it

Should be shot at birth


Let’s stamp out violent tendencies

With torture if need be

What we need’s more tolerance

And less hypocrisy




No plastic bags for poor old Joe

To line his litter bin

Or carry avocado with

Or wrap his dog roll in


There’s plenty though inside of whales

If he’s prepared to swim

We’re talking Joe not Jonah though

So they’re no use to him


But strewn around our countryside

From mountain top to beach

Are bags and bags of plastic bags

Some in easy reach


So go and grab a bag or two

And help with conservation

Then use them for your rubbish

It’s a win – win situation


13/8/2018 TAKE A BREAK


While P.C. academia

Gives Don Brasch the bird

And those who are against free-speech

Insist on being heard


Out here on the harbour

Floating in my boat

I idle past Iona

And make a mental note


And while the trolls are fabricating

Next week’s fake-news fibs

The rippled waves are tickling

My dinghy’s rimu ribs


A winter sun is beaming down

And dancing on the water

Not a care in all the world

No breeze from any quarter


Forest-fires, earthquake deaths

Heat waves, droughts and more

The horrors of a troubled world

Are tethered to the shore


Sometimes to keep an even keel

You need to take a break

Sometimes instead of daily gruel

You need a piece of cake

27/8/2018 NATIONAL POETRY DAY 2018


Over in Australia

Top jobs are on the line

Unless the Wallabies soon win

The coach may well resign


And the office of Prime Minister

Has also caused concern

As anyone who wants it

Is entitled to a turn


Back home it’s National Poetry Day

That time when once a year

People quote a line or two

From poets they hold dear


And bards and versifiers

Emerge from diverse places

With screeds of paper in their hands

And hopeful looking faces


And festivals and open mic’s

Sprout up across our nation

And souls are bared and traded for

The chance of an ovation


And RNZ God bless its socks

Continues to promote

Eloquent, erudite poetry

And verses what I wrote



The lack of extradition has

Left Scotland Yard frustrated

While Russia’s claim

They’re not to blame’s

Got people animated


‘Despicable’s the only word

For the Novichock attack

At first it seemed

It would be deemed

Too tough a case to crack


But images on film confirm

Some spook’s opinions

It was down to

The G.R.U.

Or at least Gru’s minions

24/09/2018 SUFFRAGE


A century and a quarter past

Almost to the day

A special group of Kiwis

Showed the world the way


Their actions would be heralded

As history-making news

They took New Zealand to the fore

With forward thinking views


Their deeds are in the history books

A global first by us

And yet we overlook their part

When making all the fuss


Nine months of celebrations

And nothing has been heard

In praise of those who passed the bill

No not a single word


Perhaps because those pioneers

Who gave the vote back then

To their fellow women were

God-fearing, old, white men


Overlooked entirely

And without remorse

Is that unconscious bias

Or just par for the course?



They’re going to build a prison

For those who suffer guilt

For those who build the prison-

A work-camp will be built


But those who build the work-camp

Will need accommodation

Perhaps they plan on building some

With roads and sanitation


But who will build that housing?

And where will they be housed?

It seems a sleeping giant

Ouroboros has been roused


More workers mean more worker’s huts

And somewhere to site ’em

And then so-on and so-forth

It goes ad infinitum


Is this the ‘egg and chicken’ plan

That experts are espousing?

More housing for the builders

More builders for the housing


Last week the Chinese said that they

Would fund an Auckland road

This week they’re funding bridges

What’s next? A moral code?


Forget about the sale of land

From sea to mountain ridges

Forget about our aquifers

That’s water under bridges


They’re selling our democracy

To those who have most cash

And calling it diversity

The bane of Franks and Brasch


And then the ‘he said – she said’ row

With confidences breached

No evidence provided but

Conclusions have been reached

5/11/2018 HALLOWEEN

This week we had the spectre

Of monsters in our streets

Demanding goods with menaces

What they call ‘trick or treats’


The Duke and Duchess wowed the crowd

And all were glad they came

Our media had trouble though

With Megan’s married name


Our airports over charged us

There’s lots of that about

While immigration did its job

Of ruling good folk out


To pay the fee for residency

Can be quite complex

Our government though, apparently

Is still accepting cheques

19/11/2018 DAISIES

In gardens of remembrance

Before a sea of crosses

We stood in solemn silence

Acknowledging the losses


A gun salute resounded as

Elevens all aligned

A hundred years observance

Since the Armistice was signed


In Flanders fields red poppies grew

While here white daisies shone

A latticework of innocence

Mourning those who’d gone


We heard the bugle call them home

The last post brought forth tears

They shall not be forgotten now

Nor in the coming years

3/12/2018 BANNED

The kneejerk act of banning

Is now a social norm

Free-speech in universities

Police in uniform


Private cars from Queen’s street

Beggars from shop doors

Stand-alone post offices

Plastic bags and straws


Huawai’s 5 G network

Prize-givings in our schools

And lupins in our riverbeds

Are all against the rules


So’s sleeping in our airports

And all across the land

The act of freedom camping

Has been banished barred and banned


Like calling Christmas ‘Christmas’

And they haven’t finished yet

For even Santa’s gender now

Is coming under threat!


As Christmas fast approaches

And families feel stressed

There’s still some ‘one quick questions’

That need to be addressed


Does Santa speak Te Reo?

Or just her native Dutch?

Are workers paid too little?

Or CEO’S too much?


Will there be any ‘Tip-Top’

When we see the summer sun?

Does ‘TradeMe’ have a ‘Buy-now’ price?

Or will their auction run?


Will ‘Well-being’ indices

Gauge how much we smile?

Will fiscal growth or rainbows

Make our lives worthwhile?

31/12/2018 SANTA'S GENDER

So Santa can be female too

Well this is news to some

Not least of all Saint Nick himself

Who’ll want to know how come?


His history has been stripped away

His manhood undermined

And without express consent

His gender re-assigned


He’s not the first to have this done

Nor will he be the last

The growing list of victims

Has its roots back in the past


It happened with Ghost Busters

The Milky-Bar Kid too

Sherlock Holmes’s Watson

And the Time-lord Doctor Who


But these were all just characters

Not people who were real

Now they’re changing history

To suit the way they feel


And Christmas trees around the world

Are being decorated

With the balls of Santa’s

Who’ve been emasculated

8/1/2018 SKYLINE

The Skyline is a jellyfish

That drifts above the dross

Of human habitation

Wilderness’s loss


Drawing wide-eyed tourists

To satisfy a need

It dangles noduled tentacles

To catch an easy feed

22/1/2018 RATA LEAVES

Rata has the rounded leaves

Leathery and thick

Pohutakawa shiny ones

So pointed they could prick

5/2/2018 SUPERMOON

A super, blue, come blood-red moon

Portends the end is nigh

An omen-like maroon balloon

Hangs in the hot night sky


The choice is either wilt or swoon

As temperatures climb high

The rain can’t come a day too soon

To end the drawn-out dry


The sound it makes – a welcome tune

As southern cities fry

For Burnside it’s a special boon

As flames are dowsed then die

19/2/2018 BIG AIR

Spotty youths just out of school

With hyphenated names

Are running hot and looking cool

At the winter games


They’re grabbing massive amplitudes

Popping off the lip

Stomping sick ten-eighties or

A goofy Haakan flip


They’re boning out spaghetti air

Nose-bonking on the rails

And talking in a foreign tongue

While boosting sponsor’s sales


Nursing broken necks and legs

Defying gravity

They tumble twist and turn towards

Olympic destiny


I sense a census in the air

An information storm

They sent a package though, that has

No normal, formal form


They’re doing it on line this time

A mighty I.T. mission

The digital brainchild of some

Sadistic statistician


Automated answer phones

High tech access codes

Fill it in at any time

They must be saving loads


They claim our privacy’s secure

Re: who, what, when and where

But I’ve never met a data yet

That didn’t want to share


He delved into the universe

Unravelling with ease

The origins of time and space

And singularities


He shone as bright as any star

But for too brief a time

His story one of triumph

A theorist sublime


A body wracked by atrophy

His mind though would not yield

Farewell to Stephen Hawking

A giant in his field


Some get ‘cross’ at Easter

Some go retail mad

Both believe that there’s a greater

‘Prophet’ to be had


Forget about your chocolate eggs

And the Easter bunny

We’re talking three Ed Sheeran gigs

That’s money, money, money


A time of deep reflection

To worship what you will

Commerce, Christ or chocolate

Be sure to have your fill

16/4/2018 GOOD AS GOLD

Work and Income’s searching for

Ideas that might make sense

They’re canvassing the homeless

As their plight is now in tents


Auckland copped a blackout

The Silver Ferns some flack

There’s a gold-rush on the Gold Coast with

Success for some in black


Jacinda’s got the good oil on

Black-gold and gas at sea

While Trump and Putin are about

To kick off world war three

30/4/2018 TIME'S UP

It’s time that clocks with moving hands

Were taken out of schools

UK kids can’t read them

They haven’t got the tools


It’s not the Roman numerals

That have them so perplexed

It’s anything that’s analogue

That’s got them stressed and vexed


Next it will be literature

That has the kids complaining

Written text will have to go

Just picture books remaining


Maybe I’m just ‘old-school’

But preachers used to preach

Builders used to build

And teachers used to teach


They could impart some ‘learnings’ to

These pupils in their prime

If they simply spoke ‘Emoji’

And they only had the time




The problem now with climate change

Is it’s already here

Once a century weather events

Are happening every year


Floods and droughts and hurricanes

Cyclones and tornados

Landslides, forest fires

Earthquakes and volcanos


Acid rain and tidal waves

And melting Arctic ice

Mean the party’s over and

It’s time to pay the price


There’s plastic in our water ways

Rivers, lakes and seas

We’re burning coal and oil and gas

And chopping down the trees


Fishing beds and ocean floors

Are plundered and destroyed

But mess around with ‘Corro’

And boy we get annoyed


28/5/2018 A BREED APART

To see the flags a-flying

Over Britain’s sceptred isles

To see the cheering crowds

That stretch for miles and miles


To see the sunny faces

With warm and friendly smiles

The ‘A’ list of celebrity

In fashion’s latest styles


The flowers of the commonwealth

Embroidered into lace

Three future kings of England

Assembled in one place


A fanfare played on trumpets

That scales the castle walls

An aria of golden notes

Sung in hallowed halls


The gleaming household cavalry

A regal horse-drawn carriage

The pageantry, the majesty

A fairy-tale type marriage


A dashing prince, a blushing bride

A sky of blue above

A wedding dress, a tender kiss

A couple bathed in love


Does that not bring a sense of pride

A stirring of the blood

Does that not bring a throaty lump

Or cause the eyes to flood


Surely that must soften

The harshest cynic’s heart

If not then they remain at best

A sorry breed apart



11/6/2018 THE GYRE

The South Pacific gyre

Seems unlikely to inspire

Someone to swim across it but no wait


An enterprising chap

Will soon swim through all the crap

In an effort that will surely demonstrate


That our oceans – once so pure

Are in grave need of a cure

To save them from their sad polluted state


If we don’t do something drastic

Then this rubbish dump of plastic

Will exceed all of the ocean’s fish in weight!


The Earth spins on its axis as

It circumscribes the sun

Its tilt toward our summer months

Has only just begun


Today’s the winter solstice

Tonight’s the longest night

From here on in we celebrate

The coming of more light


And also the arrival of

Our leader’s new-born child

May love and joy surround them as

The media go wild


Today’s the winter solstice

Great forces are at play

For any natal chart no doubt

A most auspicious day





The world has watched its nations

Win or lose their games

Some heroes have departed

Whilst others make their names


This week though just one football team

Has made the whole world smile

Their fans have shown just what it means

To go the extra mile


Never have such underdogs

With all hope swept away

Overcome such odds to win

In such an awesome way


Ten days within a Thailand cave

Flooded by the rain

A coach and his young team survive

To savour life again




World leaders had a lot to say

About their recent meetings

Some used subtle symbolism

Others simple tweetings


The Queen has her own language

Encoded in her jewels

Her style’s beyond reproach but is

Her broach a breach of rules?


A genius who only speaks

One language is quite rare

But Donald Trump’s exceptional

A man beyond compare


We all know he’s a genius

He tells us so each day

The language that he’s mastered though?

He would, then would not say




First penmanship went by the wayside

Then keyboards took over with screens

And now we’re about to surrender

To voice operated machines


If writing is left to the tweeters

Will its meaning be too hard to catch?

If grammar goes out of the window

Will her nighty get caught on the latch?


If texting becomes the last bastion

And spelling a personal choice

Will language be given a hearing?

Or oratory given a voice?


Will the future become too predictive?

As binary starts to take charge

Will we dance to the wild algorithms

Of the soulless computers at large?


Will our avatars have their own profiles?

And presence long after we’re dead?

Will poems be penned with emotion?

Or simply assembled instead?



The choice of presidents has passed

The voice of blues is gone

But rest in peace Aretha

Your legacy lives on


She made a congregation soar

Her heart and soul in sync

She made a generation move

She helped a nation think


For in the fight for civil rights

She played a vital role


To the queen of soul



As blossom blooms and cuckoos sing

The yellow trumpets herald spring


Their symbolism on this day

Is one of hope and that some way


Researchers will soon find a cure

To end the pain that most endure


At cancer’s cruel and callous hand

Let’s wipe this evil from our land


Let’s focus all our energies

To put an end to this disease


With loved-ones lost but held in mind

We donate now to help mankind


It’s nice to know that someone cares

Each flower bought and worn declares –


A brighter future is in store

And spring brings light and warmth and for –


The ghosts of those who suffered ills –

A host of golden daffodils

17/9/2018 A BIRD IN THE HAND


They say a bird that’s in the hand

Is worth two in the bush

Police are urged to prosecute

Protesters told to shush


Politicians and police

And state broadcasters too

Have found a technicality

That they want to pursue


Possession of a road-kill bird’s

Against the law you see

So that should be the focus

And the media agree


Unproven claims of bludgeoning

By unnamed scientists

Now have ten-eighty protesters

Described as terrorists

1/10/2018 THE IN CROWD

Typewriters are back in vogue

Tiger’s back in form

Jacinda’s in the USA

Kicking up a storm


The number of inquiries

Has increased by half

Bill Bailey’s in the country

Making people laugh


Waka-jumping’s in the house

The Green’s are in despair

Mico plasma bovis

And spring are in the air


New slang words in the dictionary

Vaping’s in our schools

Ten-eighty found in eight dead cows

But no-one broke the rules


The Panel’s in position

As informed as can be

Get in with the in crowd

It’s the only place to be

15/10/2018 VALUE FOR MONEY

Pedestrian-crossings sexualised

Fat-shaming put to shame

Police police police-cadets

And find them not to blame


A funding boost for girls in sport

Our para-olympians too

A woman-only honours list

A feminised Dr. Who


A massive surplus posted

Loan-sharking gets a tweak

Christchurch gets a library and

In other news this week


It’s just the name they’re selling

And it’s just the name they buy

It’s money in the bank see

How those dollars fly


As good as printing money

So where’s the art world headed?

I’d like to tell you but I can’t

The last verse has been shredded


Lisping ‘esses’, rolling ‘rrs’

And never-you-mind the vowels

And missing ‘L’s as I recall

Were causing frowns and scowls


And whither went the ‘w’ sound

Gone from all four ‘korters

Like the ‘y’ in ‘pooma

Ignored by sports by reporters


Gone from ‘noos’ and ‘rezzoomay

Gone without a trace

To use instead in ‘queue-pons’ where

They’re clearly out of place


On T.V. Duke’s pronounced as ‘Juke

No joke, and if you please

Everywhere you turn these days

‘t’s are mouthed as ‘d’s


I’m almost ‘modivaded

To wride a ‘ledder to

Our main ‘polidical‘pardies

To tell them what to do


Enunciation is the art

Of mind and mouth in sync

And yet we tell our children that

They can be ‘anythink


There’s ‘somethink’ wrong with how we speak

But ‘nothink’ we can’t fix

By ‘geeing’ up our teachers so’s

We’s don’(t) all soun(d) like hicks


Mothers kissed their sons goodbye

Fathers shook their hands

Not knowing if they’d live or die

In far off foreign lands


Not knowing that beyond the beat

Of patriotic drumming

A madness had awoken and

A world of change was coming


For them a great adventure

While wives stood broken-hearted

An innocence were left behind

As flesh and blood departed


From life and death decisions made

On parliamentary benches

To landing-beaches’ crimson tides

And gas-filled front-line trenches


Through darkened days and flair-lit nights

Through wasteland wrapped in wire

Through mortar screams and howling shells

Through rain and ice and fire


Where blades of steel would run them through

And heavy guns would bomb them

They did not go to give their lives

Their lives were taken from them


In restless sleep, in ankle deep

In ordered waves of Hell

For half a chain of barren soil

In vain, in pain they fell


For God and king and country

A sacrifice was made

In choking clouds of mustard gas

The price for peace was paid


Through Christmas after Christmas

The gun’s relentless thunder

Would shake their inner being

And rent their flesh asunder


Deafened minds and blinded souls

Outstretched arms on shoulders

Shuffled through the smoke of war

Mere silhouettes of soldiers


No snowy peaks, no sunny shores

No blue waves capped with foam

So far away on knees they’d pray

And think of those at home


No family meals, no barn-dance reels

No scent of loved one’s hair

Instead the stench of human waste

And corpses filled the air


No tui sang, no church bell rang

No school yard filled with laughter

All bridges burnt, no lessons learnt

No hope for man here after


Grey on cold gun-metal grey

No green, no skies of blue

But from these fields of leaded mud

The blood red poppies grew


Rise up magenta gentlemen

Rise up and raise your heads

Stand proud in random rank and file

While history weaves its threads


Wefts and warps a tapestry

A picture of the past

From factories to infirmaries

Where soldiers dyed and cast


Were played with by old generals

Their standards holding fast

Flags of many colours

Coldly nailed to conflict’s mast


Rise up magenta gentlemen

And let your spirit soar

Lest we forget your sacrifice

Or what you made it for.

26/11/2018 VOCAL FRY
10/12/2018 NATURE'S ART

Nature practices her art

By sculpturing the land

With elemental forces

But on a scale so grand

That we can hardly comprehend

Let alone admire

The living work she carves and molds

With wind and rain and fire

We only see the tragedy

Of the fiscal cost

Our life span is too limited

To see what’s truly lost

The bigger picture is too big

Our focus is too narrow

And so despite the planet’s cries

We push our human barrow


The RNZ end-of-year party

Has music and feasting and games

Like musical chairs for presenters

Or guessing the CEO’s aims


As the dance for more funding continues

And everyone puts on a show

Producers are all busy flossing

As Wallace and Jim ‘dosey-doe’


They’re fare-welling Jim from the panel

As he moves on to Sunday a.m.

While Wallace will be his replacement

In a merry-go-round stratagem


Good luck to you both in the New Year

And thanks for your service to date

Merry Christmas to you and The Panel

And to all, as we now celebrate




It’s a good old-fashioned Christmas

With yuletide revelry

The rum’s been spliced

The vegies diced

The Queen’s speech on T.V.


The city streets are empty

The camping grounds are packed

Some fancy plates

A crate of Speight’s

The turkey’s been attacked


By uncles aunts and cousins

Gran and grandpa too

And mum and dad

Were just as bad

Like feed-time at the zoo


All went back for seconds

While dad dished out advice

The Christmas pud’

Was flaming good

The sherry very nice


The dining done and dusted

The drinking under way

And then a nap

Beneath a cap

Before some outdoor play


Anyone for rounders

Or cricket on the beach

The balls been whacked

The crackers cracked

The summer sun’s a peach


A good old-fashioned Christmas

With sunset turning red

Sweet treats to eat

And sunburnt feet

And talk till time for bed



A picket fence, a garden gate

A ring of shrubs and trees

Surround the fishpond garden where

Content, I sit at ease


Beneath the shady maple tree

Beneath the graceful larch

Where golden honeysuckle blooms

Festoon my gateway arch


A flood of honeysuckle scent

Descends from floral jewels

And permeates the summer air

With swirling perfumed pools


The fantails play, the tuis sing

The bees alight upon

A foxglove or a rambling rose

One moment there then gone


The goldfish hover silently

Within their water world

Basking in the solar rays

As morning is unfurled


They watch the dance of dragonflies

And water-boatmen glide

And dream of mighty oceans

At least ten meters wide


A picket fence, a garden gate

A ring of shrubs and trees

Surround the fishpond garden where

Content, I sit at ease


30/1/2017 MIND TRAVEL


All you need’s a hammock

And a blue sky and you’ll find

That you don’t need an aeroplane

To travel in your mind


All you need’s a memory

Or an imagination

And you can travel instantly

To any destination


Lying in my hammock

In my garden in the south

I could be in Bermuda

Or Bangkok or Taeiri Mouth


Adelaide or Mexico

Stockholm or Tibet

Buenos Aires or Bejing

New York or better yet


Somewhere in the great outdoors

A mountain out of reach

Or in a forest clearing

Or a river or a beach


Or lying in a meadow

Full of rabbits running free

Or on a wooden schooner

Heading out to sea


Your mind can take you anywhere

That you may care to roam

And when you’ve finished travelling

You simply come back home


Gazing at infinity

From any given place

Opens up a universe

Of endless time and space


13/2/2017 SUN SET


The glory of the evening sun

Setting in the west

The story of the day is done

Its saga put to rest


An eiderdown of cloud draws in

The sky is painted red

The pillowed hills hold dreams within

All trials are put to bed


The gentle scent of jasmine drifts

And dances through the air

A sense of deep contentment lifts

All spirits from despair


A blackbird’s piped soliloquy

Is music to the soul

In perfect time and harmony

Each part completes the whole




Mr Mayor, honoured guests

Curious passers-by

Assembled throng who’ve come along

Welcome, Haere mai


For God and Queen and country

For fellow scribes like you

For this auspicious opening

I’ve penned a line or two


A poem for the poets

Of Back beach and beyond

Whose views on views of water

Express a special bond


Reflections on the harbour-side

A place we call our own

The way we see the sea and sky

Are set in fired stone


Above the water’s margins

Like washed up tidal treasure

Each tile supports its author’s thoughts

Enjoy them at your leisure



Despite the autumn weather

The rugby and the rest

The big news in Dunedin is

Of course the cricket test


In the city students swamp

The op-shops and the bars

On the streets the parking spots

Are filled with clapped our cars


On the harbour sunlit sails

Await the southern squalls

Behind the plastic stadium

Another wicket falls


They left from Dunedin

In deed in delight

To view as they flew

On their time-travel flight


The magnetic antics

Of Antarctic light

A colourful curtain

Of uncertain height


A roar of an engine

A raw autumn night

They saw an aurora

A rare awesome sight



Down here in the south the weather is fine

Albeit occasionally cool

But our thoughts are with those afflicted by floods

And deluges violent and cruel


These one-in-one-hundred-year events

Are happening all of the time

The floods and the quakes, the cyclones and slips

Our planet is well past its prime


It’s like an old man with wounds that won’t heal

A fever, a sore back, a cough

Poor circulation, his hair falling out

And once vital parts dying off


So where will it end? This global descent

Into climactic mayhem and mud

Is our fate to expire in famine or drought?

Or drown in some biblical flood

24/4/2017 LAST POST


Why do we wear the poppies?

Why are the war wreaths laid?

Lest we forget – remember

The sacrifices made


From Cape Rienga to the Bluff

From sea to mountain air

From south pacific’s triple star

To Turkey’s Chanuk Bair


From God’s own to Gallipoli

At dawn on Anzac day

With bugle draped in history

Let the last post play


For those who fell in foreign fields

The countless lost and found

For those who served so gallantly

Let the bugle sound


From One Tree Hill to Lone Pine ridge

Round heaven’s starry dome

From peace on Earth to Kingdom come

The bugle calls them home


For them we wear the poppies

For them the wreaths are laid

For them we will remember

The sacrifices made


8/5/2017 HAVE A WHINE


This week our Aussie Kiwis

Were served up on a tray

And Labour’s list of socialists

Had hints of chardonnay


Yesterday Prince Phillip said

He’s flagging it away

Today we savour sauvignon

On sauvignon blanc day


It’s nice to sit and have a whine

About the state of play

While tomorrow in my mai-mai I

Might have a ‘cold duck’ day




Kit-Kat can’t claim copyright

Over copy-cats

’ Seems they just can’t catch a break

Like those who would catch cats


While over in Bermuda

With amorous intent

Ben Ainslie’s little love tap

Has left us with a dent


Back home – polluted water is

Reluctantly debated

As field lead levels in some schools

Are classed as elevated


Asbestos in our sports fields

An island cloaked in plastic

Forget the petty tinkering

It’s time for something drastic


5/6/2017 AT THE RACES


They said in May that May may win

In June – a different tune

Now Corbyn who’s been in the bin

May win – we’ll all see soon


A win in Indianapolis

Is not what hot Scot got

But twice he walked away from death

Still happy with his lot


While in Bermuda who’da thought

There’d be controversy

Involving Team New Zealand as

A beneficiary


At the races famous faces

Vie for varied prizes

We follow them fanatically

For comfort or surprises


19/6/2017 THE GULLIBLE


Algorithms filter out

Opposing points of view

Until you think the whole wide world

Believes the same as you


The zealots and the feminists

The left wing and the right

Are self assured and so convinced

It’s them who’ve seen the light


You can’t convince the gullible

How gullible they are

They won’t believe a word you say

It’s really quite bizarre


Within their echo chambers

Opinions and views

Are stealthily collected and

Fed back to them as news


And everyone they meet inside

The bubble where they work

Thinks the same as they do

A synchronistic quirk


You can’t convince the gullible

How gullible they are

They won’t believe a word you say

It’s really quite bizarre


As if to illustrate my point

Some bigot will object

And claim that I am ill-informed

Or ought to show respect


Or worse some middle manager

Will censor at a glance

Anything that’s not in line

Too scared to take the chance


You can’t convince the gullible

How gullible they are

They won’t believe a word you say

It’s really quite bizarre


3/7/2017 EIGHT - ONE


‘Eight wins to one’ will never mean

What ‘eight – one’ meant before

That score-line reads redemption now

The old mug ours once more


Our All Blacks too showed that they are

A team we can rely on

While Lions fans in camper vans

Will need to keep an eye on –


Where they park after dark

If they’re not keen on clampers

For common sense does not apply

When fining freedom campers


Perhaps they would be better off

Glamping with giraffes

Instead of watching lions

In a cake tin just for laughs




Some say they’ll be the death of us

Others – our salvation

That’s why they want us to become

An on-line, network nation


The internet of things will bring

A.I. to all machines

A.I. in our devices

Our homes, our cars, our screens


One day they will take over

Or leave us in the dark

We’ll all be too dependent on

Big Google, Chrome or spark


In rural climbs A.I. still means

A long glove and tight fit

Either way I feel A.I.’ll

Leave us in the short-term-gain scenario




Let’s make America great again

The way it used to grate

When other republicans ruled the roost

Remember Watergate?


If Nixon could’ve had tweeted it

He might have got away

‘I am not a crook’ he said

Imagine that today


Then Gerald Ford who pardoned him

After his confession

The unelected president

The worst since the depression


Remember Ronald Reagan and

His grasp on world affairs

He thought the trees sucked oxygen

Clean out of mountain airs


And now they’re burning fossil fuels

To make things great again

Let’s fire-up the furnaces

And smokescreen out the pain


‘No more taxes, read my lips’

George Bush’s famous lie

The CIA and Contra deals

The Saudi money pie


And then his son George Dubbya

Whose quotes are still debated

The master of faux pars was so



He helped ‘put food on families’

Until Katrina hit

It’s hard to find a president

Who’s not been full of himself


So let’s not give the liberal left

The U.S. on a plate

Let’s make America great again

The way it used to grate


14/8/2017 LLOYD SCOTT


A softly spoken humble man

Who found his ‘All Night’ niche

Relating to the average man

The poor or nouveau riche


Conversing with his listeners

And often with himself

Occasionally mistaken for

A gnome or garden elf


Listeners on their night shifts

And early risers too

All tuned in to his cheerful voice

And he would see us through


Through the wee small hours

And darkness we’d agree

To put up with his singing

Just to share his company


But be it on the radio

Or through the internet

Grateful kiwis now salute

A friend they never met


Embrace the new horizon

Endure the parting tears

Farewell Lloyd Scott and thank you

Enjoy your golden years


28/8/2017 DAFFODIL DAY


Today is National Poetry Day

And Daffodil Day as well

So the pair must share the honours

And run in parallel


While yellow trumpets symbolise

The charity’s clarion call

Of funds for cancer research

And brighter days for all


Poets use this day of days

To brush up on their skills

And make their Words worth their own weight

In golden daffodils





Korea threatens nuclear war

Trump – retaliation

In monsoon ravaged Bangladesh

There’s death and devastation


Caribbean Island homes

Destroyed by hurricane Irma

Flooding in the southern states

And Muslims fleeing Burma


Pre-emptive strikes in Syria

The news is full of crime

While back home in New Zealand

It’s lolly scramble time




Despite our politician’s charms

Some lobby groups are up in arms

Save the rivers, spare the farms

Make education free


Someone’s loss is someone’s gain

Someone’s win is someone’s pain

If you don’t vote you can’t complain

Blame someone else not me


Had enough? Just can’t hack it?

Fix it, tax it or attack it

It’s the hollow promise racquet

Called democracy.


16/10/2017 BLACK FRIDAY


As foretold in days of old

Black-Friday brings no good

To mitigate the damage though

Cross fingers or touch wood


Poor fortune will befall you if

You have no lucky charm

No clover leaf or rabbit’s foot

To keep you safe from harm


‘Superstitious nonsense’ is

The sceptic’s stock riposte

Those guys are so predictable

But the irony is lost


It’s Friday the thirteenth today

So watch out for black cats

And omens of ill fortune for

Jacinda or the Nats




With my own mind for company

And birds to listen to

What need have I of people

And the problems that they spew


Contentment is a garden

Nurtured by my hand

Dressed by changing seasons

And nourished by the land


The staggering of buds and blooms

And blossom on the trees

Means every week there’s something new

To fascinate or please


The garden’s natural canvass

Is filled-in piece by piece

An ever changing landscape

Who’s wonders never cease


My visitors are wind and rain

Sun and sometimes snow

Each knows when it is time to call

And when it’s time to go


They leave behind their offerings

And jobs for me to do

What need have I of people and

The problems that they spew




We need to have more sympathy

For super-rich fat-cats

Who never learnt as children that

The rat race is for rats


Who never learnt there’s more to life

Than climbing up a ladder

A billionaire racked with despair-

There’s truly nothing sadder


A ‘dog eat dog’ world’s where they live

It’s lonely at the top

They’d like to give up working but

They can’t afford to stop


Compelled to make a profit from

Each hour spent on Earth

Their bank account’s the only thing

That tells them what they’re worth


The fancy food, the flashy clothes

Their portrait on the wall

The private jet, the super yacht

They have to have it all


They think that if they’re paying tax

Then that makes them a mug

I think that what they really need

Is maybe just a hug



Leaders come and leaders go

Though May may linger on

But in Zimbabwe Bob Mugabe’s

More than maybe gone


Mrs Merkel will make her-call

When the time is right

Till that hour when in power

Leaders hold on tight


Berlusconi won’t give up

Like Abbot – as we know

And Mladic won’t accept his fate

Too late it’s time to go



Who would’ve guessed? What were the odds?

What were the chances of that?

A study out on gambling’s found

That ‘Gaming’s’ where it’s at


And Gaming’s an addiction

And gambling’s bad for kids

Scratch beneath the surface and

You’ll wind up on the skids


These studies though are a lottery

With new ones every day

I’ll wager there’ll be another soon

That finds it’s all OK


And urges you to have a go

And get behind the nation

To take a punt on stocks and shares

And property speculation

25/12/2017 RE-VERSED

The holidays are beckoning

The big day’s almost here

It’s time to recap what went on

As we re-verse the year


We lost a lot of leaders

Auckland gained Phil Goff

Bit coin stocks and driver-less cars

And flying drones took off


We got two new prime ministers

The cost of homes went up

Feminism reared its head

We won the Americas cup


Algal blooms and pestilence

Were evident again

And droughts and floods and all things bad

Were blamed on old white men


Korea flexed its muscle

The US got enraged

Australia failed the fairness test

Prince Harry got engaged


The Panel did its best to help

Explain what life’s about

Social engineering’s in

Inclusiveness is out


So  may the warmth of Christmas spread

Wherever Rudolph roams

Before the P.C. kill-joy bunch

Ban it from our homes



Our shadows have been washed away

Our plans all gone awry

For summer as it always does

Falls softly from the sky


Drifting to the valley floor

In saturating sheets

Glistening the greenery

And cleansing city streets


Rattling the iron roofs

Streaking window panes

Dancing on hard surfaces

Force-feeding swollen drains


A host of booked-out campsites

Perpetuates the lie

But summer as it always does

Falls softly from the sky


Falls in stretching hours

That soak into our brains

Falls in passing showers

And everlasting rains


Dripping from bowed branches

Weighed down with sodden leaves

Shining tears drip silently

The weeping rain-cloud grieves


If there is but a single thing

On which we can rely

Surely it’s that summer will

Fall softly from the sky.


23/1/2017 THE GULLIBLE

He traded in his assets for

A following of asses

The arse-hole of America

The mouth-piece of the masses


You can’t convince the gullible

How gullible they are

They won’t believe a word you say

It’s really quite bizarre




A century and a quarter

Launching boats and dreams

To sail upon the water

Fair winds upon their beams


They flew a weathered windsock there

To indicate the breeze

Its lung was full of southerlies

From off the southern seas


The club-house perched on piggyback

Peered out across the bay

To where the water jobbled and

And sky turned grumble-grey


A jaw of bright white shark-teeth sails

Ripped the harbour’s skin

A cold and bitter breeze bit back

The boaties all dug in


Chewing through the wind-whipped waves

Tacking side by side

Stealing one another’s air

And battling the tide


And not until late afternoon

Once races had been raced

Did sailors file in through the door

Wet-clothed and ruddy-faced


And there amidst the chairs and charts

And trophies on display

The ladies served hot pies and tea

And men put beers away


Tall tales were told of tacking duels

And how wind-shifts were picked

And who had jumped the starting line

As wounds and lips were licked


And boasts were made of seamanship

And how to set the sails

And how to handle mutiny

Or sudden southern gales


The club rooms rocked with laughter

The points were tallied up

Then ribald ribbing offered to

The winners of the cup.



Kim Jong Nam thought differently

From those who were in charge

And so he paid the penalty

His killer still at large


Meanwhile in New Zealand

Te Reo’s doing fine

And those who might think otherwise

Are brought back into line


Dissent is unacceptable

You’ll need to see a shrink

Opinions will be monitored

We’ll tell you what to think


Apologise and do what’s wise

Free speech is just a sham

You will conform, you will comply

Remember Kim Jong Nam



If plundered ancient kauri logs

When sliced and sold as slabs

Gets the thumbs-up from the judge

What else is up for grabs?


About three hundred million bucks

Goes wanting every year

The untaxed multinationals

Love doing business here


There is no housing crisis

And even if there were

It’s not because of immigrants

That’s a racial slur


They’re here to take up high-skilled jobs

In places of renown

Not undermine conditions

And bring low wages down


No, doped-up work-shy Kiwis

Only have themselves to blame

But just how drunk was English when

He made that addled claim


At the time he said it

He was talking kind of slow

But no one breathalysed him

So I guess we’ll never know




The bars are blue with blarney

And little harps on black

The gills are green with sly prochain

Potatoes and the craic


The streets are green with envy for

The shamrock and the song

As fiddlers play the tunes of old

And young ones sing along


And everyone is Irish

If only for a while

And part of one big family from

The snake-free Emerald Isle


Around the world they’re gathering

To party where they can

And celebrate Saint Patrick

Ireland’s best-loved English man


3/4/2017 IN OR OUT

Some Kiwis like to take delight

In running Brexit down

As if it were some stupid act

Committed by a clown


But in their situation

Which way would we swing

If our seat of power were

Say transferred to Bejing?


If there were a proposal

For China and New Zealand,

Aussie and Pacifica

To all form one new free land


Free for trade and travel

No passport stamp required

Open immigration

For any so inspired


If Tongan weights and measures

Were used in all our schools

And rugby games were standardised

Replaced by Aussie rules


Compliance and conformity

And fiscal obligation

‘V’ sovereignty of currency

And self determination


If we were asked to make a choice

Would we protest and shout

If there were a proposal would

We vote for in or out?


Would we be so gung-ho and smug?

Would we throw in our lot?

For Brexit only gives the Brits

What we’ve already got.


17/4/2017 EASTER-LIES

Just getting ‘cross’ won’t put an end

To this ‘oppressive rain’

But ‘easterlies’ this weekend mean

The ‘sun’ will rise again




‘I Don’t Want A Brother’

Is my Wall Street sculpture’s name

Implying ‘Fearless Girl’

Is the sister who’s to blame


Cast in bronze it represents

A fratricide attack

A facedown, sprawled-out toddler

With scissors in his back


Strategically positioned

Behind the well-known piece

It draws on its location for

Emotional release


The shoe now on the other foot

Which way will people turn?

With ‘Fearless Girl’ a villain now

What lesson will they learn?




With twenty-something as their choice

For the average age of mums

The advertising agencies

Are drawing in vast sums


Encouraging young children

To buy all sorts of things

From furniture to fashion wear

To thousand dollar rings


But if your pocket money

Won’t even buy a mug

I’m sure she will be happy

Just to have a heart-felt hug


It’s Mother’s day this Sunday

In case you haven’t heard

A day for nice surprises

Till then though mum’s the word




Around the world dictatorships

Are sadly on the rise

That doctors should be joining them

Comes as no surprise


After all it’s they who say

That those who want to die

Should be forced to linger on

In order to comply


And now they want to punish those

Making personal choices

And seek to win their argument

By silencing their voices


Opinionated bullies claim

What they believe is law

And those who seek with open minds

Should all be shown the door


The one true god of science is

The issue at the core

It must be worshipped their way

For now and ever more


Because all vaccines might not work

Some doctors now insist

They must be made compulsory

And no-one may resist


These scientists and doctors

Using hard intel’

Would have made thalidomide

Compulsory as well


12/6/2017 BAR HUMBUG


Admittedly they’re flat out fast

And quite a sight to see

But is it really sailing –

All this new technology?


‘Cyclors’ now – not grinders

Wings instead of sails

Hydraulics and computers

Best ‘fly-time’ boat prevails


Brawling with the weather may

Have blown both boats to bits

But in the end a better team

Helped Burling beat the Brits


To the victor go the spoils

The loser feels the pain

Left to rue the way they flew

Curses, foiled again!


26/6/2017 THE OLD MUG


In the wee small hours

As in the days of old

Our nation rises once again

Anticipating gold


Wherever interest has been piqued

Wherever hope has shone

From Cape Reinga to the Bluff

Lounge lights are flicking on


Like little yellow beacons

Beneath night’s starry dome

They send a signal of support

And guide the cup back home


From paper-boys to cockies

In steam-filled milking sheds

To nurses on their nightshifts

And students in their beds


From children in pyjamas

To dads in dressing gowns

A new belief is stirring

In cities, farms and towns


They’re turning on and tuning in

To follow every race

Each down-wind gybe, each up-wind tack

Each foiling beat at pace


The David and Goliath

Old rivalry renewed

Our heartbeats elevated

Our fingernails well chewed


Who will have the boat speed?

Who’ll make the first mistake?

What horror call on Oracle

Will leave them in our wake?


Will Spithill whittle down our lead?

Will Burling be too bold?

In Bermuda’s balmy breeze

Will Oracle be rolled?


Do we dare to hope again?

To dream we are the best

The drawn out pains of failed campaigns

At long last put to rest


Or will the mighty USA

Simply play it cool

Spend another billion and

Invent some brand new rule


Let’s not let the big boys win

Let’s make our talent tell

Let’s show the world that sportsmanship

Is still alive and well


Let’s keep the passion burning

For Burling and the boys

Let’s hear that heart-felt haka

Let’s make some Kiwi noise


Let’s wear those old red socks with pride

Team USA’s the slower

Let’s bring the Old Mug home again

To Aotearoa


10/7/2017 PRINTER INK


So what’s the deal with printers

And the price of printer ink?

Which is more expensive?

The printer – you would think


But no, I bought a printer

Standard, not deluxe

With cartridges included

For under forty bucks


A printer – scanner – copier

With guarantee what’s more!

Whist on its own one cartridge costs

Just over forty-four


24/7/2017 WHO’S WHO


While women rejoice

And declare with one voice

It’s a choice that’s been long overdue

The true fans express

With dismay and distress

The loss of their male Dr Who


But if you should feel

That their pain isn’t real

And their outcry is just a big joke

Then imagine instead

It’s as if RNZ

Gave its Nine to Noon slot to a bloke!


The Tardis no doubt

Will soon be decked out

With cushions, lace curtains and flowers

And door flaps for cats

And roll-out yoga mats

Where the cats can all stretch-out for hours


A long-time survivor

The sonic screwdriver

Whose powers require some beating

May well be replaced

With dispassionate haste

By a cell-phone for selfies and tweeting


He isn’t the first

Though to be thusly cursed

For the feminists tried it on God

Whose re-designation

Brought on resignation

No comfort, no staff and no rod




Jacinda’s in ‘da’ driving seat

So where will Labour go?

More left or right of centre line

Does anybody know?


Will those who dislike old, white men

Now have a change of heart?

And start supporting Labour

Because they’re fair and smart?


And what about the media

Which way will they turn?

Will they go back to backing Bill

Or all adore Adern?


21/8/2017 EQUAL PAY


Hip-hip hooray for equal pay

As genders start to gel

At last there’ll be a Ministry

Of Men’s Affairs as well


Where he who fights for equal rights

Exclusively for misters

Will also get what he doesn’t yet

The same wage as his sisters


And those concerned with what is earned

By whom for doing what

Will all agree hypocrisy

Had made us lose the plot




The winds of change are blowing

John Key was first to jump

Leaving Bill to fill the bill

And oversee the slump


Next Metiria Turei threw a

Towel into the ring

With little ado, Little did too

Jacinda now doing her thing


Then petering out until he was done

The bow-tied worm-rider quit too

Survivor election is well underway

Each episode claims someone new


So who’s next in line to be scalped or resign?

Will Peters defeat his detractors?

Will too much attention to payment of pension

Be one of the critical factors


The media scrum is starting to hum

The public are baying for blood

And the fatally flawed to fall on their sword

Or drown in political mud



Heavenly bodies will attract –

Curious eyes that’s just a fact

So in a sort of courting act

The Earth sent out a ‘thing-me’


With wide-eyed lust and slack-jawed drool

To a star just being cool

Who asks because she’s no-one’s fool

‘What else did you bring me?’


Five billion miles with no return

Cassini set to crash and burn

And yet we’ve still so much to learn

And Saturn just says ‘ring me’!

9/10/2017 DOOM ’N’ GLOOM


There’s too much bloomin’ doom ‘n’ gloom in

Media news these days

How I can I depress you?

Let me count the ways


Volcanoes, floods and hurricanes

Earthquake devastation

Terrorism, genocide

Entrenched discrimination


Referendums outlawed

Oppressed afraid to speak

And more ‘Americarnage’

A shooting every week


It’s time that we did something

Official or informal

It’s time to pause and wring our hands

Then carry on as normal


23/10/2017 ARE WE THERE YET


Are we there yet? Are we there?

Fraught, impatient calls

From children in the back of cars

Climbing up the walls


Or packs of fractious journalists

Demanding satisfaction

All desperate for breaking news

But ham-strung by inaction


Forced to interview themselves

Or mums in shopping malls

Instead of pressured leaders

In parliamentary halls


Are we there? Are we at the place

Where someone has to choose?

No it’s just a comfort-stop

So you can use the loos


Are we there yet? Are we there?

Is the waiting over?

Yes we’re there, we made it

Now go roll in the clover




Spring is sprung the grass is ris’

The sun is beating down

A gentle breeze drifts through the trees

And yet I wear a frown


The afternoon cacophony

Of two-stroke motor mowers

Industrious weed-whackers

Loud chainsaws and leaf-blowers


Fills the air with snarling

And fumes from fossil fuels

Our quiet moments have become

As rare as precious jewels



Boohoo Peru win through by two

The All Whites did their best

But fireworks and air-force jets

Ensured they got no rest


Their flight diverted and delayed

Their bus waylaid as well

And even worse – a real snake curse

That cast a lasting spell


All prove Peru were worried

As well they might have been

For if we’d had Lorde in the side

We would’ve swept them clean

Boohoo Peru win through by two

The All Whites did their best

But fireworks and air-force jets

Ensured they got no rest


Their flight diverted and delayed

Their bus waylaid as well

And even worse – a real snake curse

That cast a lasting spell


All prove Peru were worried

As well they might have been

For if we’d had Lorde in the side

We would’ve swept them clean



I fear our social fabric

Is starting to unravel

When CEOs of health boards

Spend-up large on first class travel


When citizens on beaches

Are run down by boy racers

Who then out-run police cars

As the law cracks down on chasers


I fear that social fabric

Is going out of fashion

When dairy owning mums and dads

Are targets for a bashin’


I hear our social fabric

Isn’t stylish anymore

Too threadbare for a shelter

And too thin to clothe the poor

18/11/2017 OLD WHAT’S HIS NAME

I’ll never forget old ‘what’s-his-name’

What was it he said?

‘If you can’t find a ‘thingumy-jig’

Use a ‘who-ja-ma-flip’ instead’


He was always good for a ‘whatchamacallit’

A ‘thingumy-bob’ or a quote

No I’ll never forget old ‘what’s-his-name’

And the memorable stuff that he wrote


4/1/2016 HOLIDAYS


The holidays are over

Farewell airbeds and foam

The caravans of camping fans

Are weaving their ways home


Goodbye to canvass ceilings

To sun-hats, shorts and crocs

Cold-meat meals and fold-out chairs

And concrete toilet blocks


To mountain peaks and vineyards

The swarming sandfly’s bite

Paddocks plagued with rabbits

The possums in the night


Farewell the morning blackbird

The lunchtime lark on high

The tui and the harriers

The endless cloudless sky


The lakes have all been skied and fished

The tracks all tramped and hiked

The byways toured, the woods explored

The cycle-ways all biked


You can do it, yes you can

Just one more hill to climb

In breathless praise of holidays

In Central summer time



I used to be a poet but

I found it didn’t pay

Now I’m writing rap rhyme lyrics for

A thousand bucks a day

It may not have the same prestige

Or romance or cachet

But when I go down to the bank

I’m laughing all the way


But wait what’s this my agent

Has taken half my take

And I R D and lawyers want

A huge slice of the cake

And after my accountant

Has had his winter break

All I have to pay is double

Everything I make


I owe an I O U or two

To someone I forgot

They’ve sent the debt collectors but

There’s nothing in the pot

I owe it all to middle men

Everything I’ve got

Oh to be a poet and

Contented with my lot




Is this an inconvenient truth?

Was it not so back in our youth?

Either way it’s still uncouth

And just to slake a thirst


Enough outrage to raise the roof

With graphic photographic proof

They’re ankle deep! – no make that hoof

No wonder people cursed


Did they pug it? did they trudge?

Turn pristine water into sludge?

Do they bear some bovine grudge?

And this lake’s not the first


Once they’re in – they’re hard to budge

And filled up with that grassy fudge

Best someone give the judge a nudge

To budge before they burst




You can offer your heart

Or have a small part

Of your body re-cast in a mould

To give as a gift

Or heal up a rift

Or show that you’re brazen and bold


For Valentine’s Day

I went out of my way

To insure that my gift was unique

Instead of a rose

I gave her a nose

A wee plaster-cast of my beak


I said she could wear it

Or if she could bear it

Have it displayed on a shelf

She seemed unimpressed

And even distressed

When I told her I’d picked it myself


29/2/2016 LEAP DAY


The leap-year child so meek and mild

A quarter of its age

Leaps into the book of life

To dance across a page


That’s one small step, one giant jump

One sidle to the side

And then the great leap forward

As history swells with pride


Feb twenty-ninth, so rarely seen

The leap-day of the year

Gives girls a chance to buy the ring

And fill his heart with fear


That’s one small step, one giant jump

One sidle to the side

And then a leap of faith to land

A lovely leap-year bride




The darkness lifts a little

As five a.m. rolls in

The tent is filled with slumber

Outside – a distant din


Of drawn out waves that thump and crush

And brush an ancient shore

Background a snuffling hedgehog

Outside the zipper door


The dogs are both too deep in sleep

To notice or to care

So I just keep a mindful ear

Till he’s no longer there


28/3/2016 APRIL FOOL’S


Kiwis vote for the union jack

The weather makes us smile

Leicester leads the English league

And beards are back in style


Cannabis decriminalized

For those who are in pain

Donald Trump for president

The Stones perform again


An Aussie’s caught on video

Abiding by the rules

The minimum wage is going up

It must be April Fool’s



If you’ve no heart, but high IQ

Then Wellington’s the place for you

Where council’s cause a lot of grief

And the lot of beggar’s beggars belief


What a fine idea is fining

Those who give – but will cheque signing

Also be included in

This push to make handouts a sin


How far will this by-law reach?

As far as Awaroa beach?

Not-for-profit organizations?

Women’s refuge, school donations?


Will those who give to charities

Olympians or refugees

All be labelled reprobates?

While council begs for higher rates


25/4/2016 THE NOBLE TURK


Let’s blame the Poms for everything

And credit them for nought

Let’s venerate the noble Turk

The enemy we fought


Let’s make-believe there’s honour in

The glory of the gun

Let’s just pretend their army wasn’t

Allied to the Hun


Let’s fly their flag on ANZAC Day

And not the union jack

Forget nine hundred thousand Brits

Never made it back




Autumn leaves its leaves upon

The pond’s reflective face

Beneath it lie the fish of gold

Who glide at goldfish pace


Suspended in reflected sky

They slide between the trees

In search of Autumn’s sun-kissed clouds

Drifting in the breeze



Something fishy’s going on

When figures can’t be trusted

And M.P.I. won’t prosecute

The skippers who’ve been busted


Dumping catch illegally

And not reporting waste

Caught hook, line and sinker

But let’s not act in haste


It’s only been some decades that

This rorte’s been going on

Surely we’ve whole years before

All the fish are gone.


6/6/2016 CITY OF SALES

City of sales, leases and rents

Unitary plans and building consents

They’re living in Garages, old cars and tents

And constantly chasing their tails


The weather is wet, the housing’s a mess

The traffic’s inducing more and more stress

Yet some folk won’t settle for anything less

Than life in the city of sails




Those who know Port Chalmers know

The chickens up the hill

But now there’s other bothersome birds

The council want to kill


The rugby team’s been stamping out

Foul play upon the field

And for the feral feathered flock

Their fowl foul fate’s been sealed


There’s no goose like a snow-goose

But these are greylag geese

And they’ve been given orders

To desist and decease


A wild goose-chase is under way

The poisoned seed plan failed

The final option’s lead implants

To have their lives curtailed


4/7/2016 BREXIT - A WEEK ON

The trouble with democracy

As any fool can see

Is there’s just too many people

Who don’t agree with me


The pound has had a pounding

The market’s in free-fall

The well-to-do have been put out

By some dumb wake-up call


The masses are revolting

Beneath their victory banner

If only there were more who thought

Like me and Pollyanna




What does a winter wedding bring?

Apart from winter weather

It brings two dedicated hearts

Lovingly together


It brings a calm, a stillness

A time of deep reflection

An inner search for meaning

Commitment and direction


It holds us for a moment in

Suspended animation

And winter is a chrysalis

A means of transformation


For Jesse has become the man

And Jessica his wife

Their union the bedrock

On which they’ll build their life


Side by side they stand today

In love and admiration

A canvas white as winter

Awaits their co-creation


Ahead of them lies springtime

And all life’s pleasant stages

Summer’s endless passages

Autumn’s golden pages


Blessed with friends and family

Who’ve come from near and far

To witness this occasion

And show how loved they are


We wish them every happiness

Rich reward and joy

And sometime in the future

A bonny girl or boy


For now though, what can winter bring?

For these two – wedded bliss

Some wild and windy weather and

A gathering like this



‘The world’s at war for certain’

The Pope has just decreed

As Frazer said: ‘we’re doomed!’

Will anyone take heed?


So much sorrow in the world

Hunger, violence, greed

The sad belief that money will

Fulfil our every need


Chinese steel’s inadequate

Doping’s rife in sports

Our leaders are as honest as

V.W.’s reports


Banks are profiteering

Insurers double-dip

Those with half a mind to rule

Are shooting from the hip


Atrocities in Europe

Cause widespread misery

And Sanders cheated of his place

In US history


Police are killing people

Just because they’re black

Is anybody really shocked

That some are shooting back


The one percent have all the wealth

The masses have TV

Alcohol and cigarettes

Crack cocaine and P


The death throes of our planet

Hurricanes and quakes

Forest fires, floods and drought

And disappearing lakes


Our oceans are depleted

There’s poison in our soil

Our air has been polluted

We’re all about to boil


Temperatures are rising

House prices are unfair

There’s nothing in our hearts it seems

Except maybe despair


This may sound ‘doom-and-gloomy’

But here’s the worst of it

With atheism on the rise

God doesn’t give u-

-s much of a chance

22/8/2016 WHITE NOISE


How soft the sound of sunlit waves

That brush against our shores

Tenderly each smooth caress

Advances and withdraws


Lines of rolling white noise froth

Between the muted blue

This is where the Dolby hisses

Have been banished to


How bright the gleaming sunlight plays

Within each curling fold

How sweet the scent of salted air

Where wave on wave’s unrolled


The ocean’s lips are parted

Her airy roar is heard

Above the cry of haughty gulls

She calls one constant word


A word we cannot comprehend

A voice that has no pause

Tenderly each smooth caress

Advances and withdraws



Someone found five hundred tremors

Shaking them awake

From underground the sway and sound

Of a seven point one earthquake


Someone found five hundred cows

Some bird poo and a tractor

In the tainted aquifer

They call ‘Camp Illobacter’


Someone found five hundred reasons

Why they lost the cup

Perhaps their chequered training was

The reason they stuffed-up


Someone found five hundred thousand

Buys an empty section

With that at least you get to vote

In Auckland’s next election



It’s local body barn-dance time

The hoardings blight our greens

As candidates all do-se-do

And vie for votes from teens


Perhaps their ugly bill boards though

With smiling faces on

Could one day all be virtual

Like on-line Pokémon


3/10/2016 THE WAY WE WERE


It’s true we’re getting older

And things are changing fast

But would you like a village where

You’re living in the past?


A place without the internet

Or twitter-twats on phones

Posting endless selfies

No traffic- jams or drones


No reality tv

No gangster rap in malls

No money-grubbing wheel-clamps

No telemarket calls


A place where people can discern

Just how much is enough

A place with things that work and last

A place with just old stuff


A clock with hands and numerals

A church with chiming bells

A pub with old horse brasses

A market full of smells


A tea-rooms and a bakery

An op-shop for the poor

A milkman and a butcher who

Deliver to your door


Bright red letter boxes

For posting letters in

A purpose-built post office

Kept as neat as any pin


A booth for passport photos

An annual summer fete

A gathering of locals

Where ladies bring a plate


A kiosk with a telephone

A round-about with flowers

An actual bank with people in

That only keeps bank hours


A creek where kids go swimming

An orchard where they scrump

A petrol service station

With a man who tends the pump


Where cricket’s played on Saturdays

Lawn bowls throughout the week

And children have both mum and dad

To live with and give cheek


A place where you can ride a bike

Or catch the local bus

Or sit and do your knitting while

The bellbirds make a fuss


With printed books for reading

The radio for news

Magazines for coupons

And Agony Auntie’s views


Where you can thank your GP with

A flagon or a cake

And shops are closed on holidays

So folk can have a break


Where NZ sits in front of rail

Forestry and post

And you can use real notes and coins

For things that matter most


A station with policemen

A hospital for care

A place where people greet you

Now who would go back there?




Flyer, flyer pants on fire

Samsung’s brand’s been burned

Their red-hot selling burner phones

All need to be returned


Harking back to simpler times

These smart communicators

Produce smoke-signals on demand

And flames for roasting ’taters



The crook and the misogynist

Go at it toe to toe

Slagging one another off

And putting on a show


Who can suck the voters in?

Promise them the most

Who can tell the biggest lies?

Watch them brag and boast


These two have been lorded as

The finest in the land

Something those with half a brain

Find hard to understand


Americans believe they are

The rulers of the Earth

Unaware that they’re the butt

Of so much scorn and mirth


The free-world stands embarrassed

The Yanks though know no shame

All they need’s an audience

And someone else to blame


14/11/16 MOVING ON


There is a land of stars and stripes

Of poor and huddled masses

Where turkeys vote for Christmas

And pollsters are all asses


Where half the nation celebrates

And half the nation mourns

In contrast, back in paradise

Another new day dawns


The rhododendrons are in bloom

There’s bird song in the air

There’s sun and sea and pinot gris

So come on, don’t despair


We understand your shock, your loss

We feel your sense of shame

As one we need to focus though

On next week’s All Black’s game.


28/11/16 PIKE RIVER


The promises of Honest John

Are buried underground

With nine and twenty miners

Who never will be found


A bottom-line prime minister

Protesting all the while

A true Dickensian character

In shrewd hand-wringing style


The families who fought for years

’Gainst company and crown

Never lost their fight despite

Attempts to wear them down


I wrote these lines two years ago

Yet little’s changed since then

Still no accountability

Nor justice for the men


And now it seems despite the call

Of experts in the field

They want to hide whatever truths

The evidence might yield



I’ve paid the bills and fed the fish

And changed the broken light

Washed the dishes and the clothes

But something’s still not right


There’s something I’ve forgotten

This much I know is true

I have a sneaky feeling

That there’s something overdue


That sneaky feeling nags at me

The nagging just keeps growing

I go outside to get some air

Oh yeah, the lawns need mowing


26/12/2016 A LIKELY STORY

With Face-book facts and twitter feeds

Our news has been transformed

And yet we’re none the wiser

For being more informed


Our echo-chambers reaffirm

Beliefs that we hold dear

Their algorithmic bubbles

Tell us what we want to hear


We know from social media

Why, where, and when and what

We just don’t know who posted it

Or if it’s false or not


In this the post-truth era

We’re aware how rare it is

To find an honest blogger

Or a spokesman you can quiz


I heard a rumour that ‘post-truth’

Had won word of the year

But whether judge’s votes were hacked

Was never quite made clear


They say fake news is on the rise

But is that really true

Or just some jaded, one-eyed writer’s

Jaundiced point of view




 I watched the cloud’s soft shadows race

Across the harbour’s ruffled face

An albatross with weightless grace

Scribed a figure eight


Soaring passed the lighthouse where

The smell of sea salt filled the air

And sunlight lit each wave-crest flare

That dared to agitate


Whilst presidents and priests opine

Sun and sand and sea combine

With wind to be the true divine

Elements of fate


25/1/2016 VIVA ZAPATA


It seems like beards are back in vogue

And now moustaches too

Things that once were gross and old

Are trendy now and new


Designer stubble statements

Character’s the key

Clark Gable’s classic pencil line

The Johnny Dep goatee


The Magnum or Zapata

The Adolf – not so much

A bit of wax on air-force wings

Gives a stylish touch


Hairy lips are sprouting out

From here to Timbuktu

This facial fashion’s so widespread

Some men are doing it too


8/2/2016 GIVE IT A YANK


Please pull the plug on US news

US sport and US views

Enough of US politics

It isn’t we who choose


Another rich man plays the fool

Another shooting in a school

Reports about the weather show

That winter there is cool


We’re not another US state

At least not at this current date

Though once the TPP is signed

We’ll re-assess our fate


22/2/2016 AN ARTIST


I used to be an artist

But my work was avant-garde

No-one understood me

And getting by was hard


While those with names were selling crap

My art remained unsold

It’s hard to be an artist when

You’re left out in the cold


So I became a poet

And set my hand to words

Couplets for the masses

And free verse for the nerds


I wrote my rhymes despite hard times

And made myself a name

I moved in different circles

But the pay was just the same




I saw four Royal spoonbills

In Sawyer’s Bay lagoon

A soft warm breeze said summertime

The sundial read high noon


Their eyes and minds were focussing

On krill and crab detections

Their stilted bodies hovered

Above their own reflections


The birds were busy foraging

Each neck set in a stoop

Their bright, white heads swept back and forth

In search of spoonbill soup


From side to side from tide to tide

November through till May

Wading through each tidal serve

They feast their days away


21/3/2016 EASTER BUNNY

Covering the country on

His little lucky legs

Delivering his bounty

Of tasty chocolate eggs


He’s been running here and there

Avoiding farmer’s guns

That’s why the Easter rabbit has

A pair of hot cross buns



4/4/2016 WELCOME


The golden rays of Autumn played

Upon a canvas tent

The native birds in native trees

Sang songs of an event


Unto Jules and Justin

A baby boy is born

Bringing joy and happiness

On this auspicious morn


Welcome baby Ashley

Welcome to the world

Your life’s a wondrous koru

About to be unfurled



Where one wall meets another wall

Is a specific space

There sits the clapped-out copier

I’m going to replace


I’m going to buy a special one

Not one from off the shelf

But one that cuts my work by half

And hums all by itself


My printer’s getting hard to read

Its ink is getting sloppier

But soon I’ll have the Auto-hum

Halvist, corner copier




The Zen of water-blasting

Corrugated roofs

Is take it slow, go with the flow

Up and down the grooves


The pressure of the water lifts

And peels old paint away

And covers everything in sight

With flaky, old-paint spray


The house walls and the windows

The car and half the drive

The roses in the garden are

Unlikely to survive


I’ve insights into nature though

Its habits more or less

I’m counting on a heavy rain

To clear up all this mess


I’ve learned from past experience

And practice well rehearsed

As soon as I apply some paint

The bloody clouds will burst



They said the right to privacy

Would be no longer ours

When introducing changes

That gave them sweeping powers


They said we should have nowt to hide

If we’d done nothing wrong

But now it seems those same MPs

Have found another song


Reviews into what lawyers do

With MPs’ offshore money

Should be shut down immediately

Such off-key songs sound funny


National security

Was at stake they cried

When dealing to our privacy

While on the other side


I.R.D.’s instructed

To can their planned review

So Must-have and Fun-seeker

Could stay well out of view


And hide who’s on the gravy train

And where it might meander

But any sauce that’s good for the goose

Is worth a proper gander


30/5/2016 WINDOWS 10

They’re duping us with cons and tricks

Like crosses where there should be ticks

So they can circumvent our clicks

With an unwanted visit


As if they haven’t got enough

Microsoft is playing tough

With all this unrequested stuff

Just who’s computer is it?!


13/6/2016 FORWARD PASS

New Zealand’s favourite referee

The infamous Wayne Barnes

Whose refereeing style’s the same

As that of Genghis Khan’s


Has done himself no favours

With stuff-ups looming large

And over-ruling T.M.O.s

To prove that he’s in charge


Just what is Barnes’s beef with us?

Why does he hate us so?

Why can’t he just apologise

And let some good will grow?


And now he’s turned another game

Into an All Black farce

It seems he needs a damn good kick

Right up his forward pass.


27/6/2016 SPIN IT WIDE


We’ve had the winter solstice

The longest night now gone

Our days will all be brighter

And warmer from now on


The world is spinning faster

Than a ‘Brexit’-style campaign

How will the winners celebrate

With brown ale or champagne


And not just spinning faster

The world’s turned upside down

As England beat the Wallabies

And Iceland go to town



Ancient Inca cocoa beans

Smooth as Persian silk

Combine in perfect harmony

With flowing full-cream milk


Milk from placid pasture cows

That stand and chew the cud

While meadow larks sing summer songs

And frogs play in the mud


Cocoa from the forest heights

Laced with steamy heat

Alive with screeching parrots

And primal jungle beat


A carnival of coloured sound

Lifts off in feathered flight

And pyramids of gleaming gold

Emerge from every bite


Like Amazonian butterflies

Exotic flavours rise

And flutter through the foreign lands

Behind my half closed eyes


This is chocolate’s magic gift

A means of transportation

A gastronomic passport to

The realms of exultation



25/7/2016 DIVE DEEP


Down in Downing Street this week

The ‘Darling Buds of May’

Have blossomed from a ‘House of Cards’

Brexit power-play


It’s bye-bye Biden, hello vessel

From the U.S.A.

No Russians rushin’ off to Rio

Doping’s not O.K


I have a dream – one day all men

And all plagiarists too

Will learn to look within themselves

And only speak what’s true


For where do true competitors go

For perfect line and length

They learn to go within themselves

To find their inner strength


And what did Trubridge do to bridge

The fear of being crushed

He dived to depths within himself

Where all self-doubt is hushed

15/8/2016 RATES

Interest in our interest rates

Are causing some distortion

Inflation rates have been blown up

Out of all proportion


Reporting on exchange rates should

Be swapped for something better

Postal rates aren’t changing though

They’re sticking to the letter


The council rates leave us irate

They’re pirates in disguise

While wetter weather penetrates

From saturated skies


Our Kiwi teams commiserate

And wipe tears from their eyes

The one thing we can’t tolerate

Is Aussies with the prize


29/8/2016 PAIN RELIEF

Why would you ease the suffering

Of those who are in pain?

If it irritates your voters and

There’s no political gain


‘No-one wants a tinny

At the bottom of their street’

Where bottle-stores and brothels

Are trying to make ends meet


Or opposite the paedophile

Right beside the school

Or close to the casino where

The one-armed bandits rule


The message to communities

Is that we really care

But cannabis as medicine

Might harm our voter share



Colin got caught calling

With messages too hot

It’s best when preaching values

Not to lose the plot


One instant Winston’s whining

Next instant Winston’s not

It’s best when calling kettles ‘black’

Not to be the pot


A million dollar average while

Some families have to squat

Show the claim that ‘there’s no crisis’ is

A hokey lotta rot



26/9/2016 SURE TO RISE


It’s like the Kiwi bible

Is the Edmunds cookery  book

A gastronomic gospel

Of just how and what to cook


It shows you how to make a cake

And bake delicious bites

Plus of course your favourite sauce

And many more delights


For lovers of best-sellers

This surely takes the prize

If it’s not in the top ten yet

Don’t fret – it’s sure to rise


10/10/2016 TO BE A SEAL


How would it feel to be a seal

Basking on the beach

An ocean full of fish and ships

Right there within your reach


Soaking up the solar rays

Working on your tan

While the playful penguins play

At catch me if you can


Some things you must imagine

They’re  just too hard to teach

How it would feel to be a seal

Basking on the beach

24/10/2016 WHAT’S UP DOC?


DOC wants more ten-eighty

To kill the possums off

The dolphin dock in Auckland

Did not impress Phil Goff


The junior doctors went on strike

The senior doc’s cashed in

Half a thousand bucks an hour’s –

Like a Lotto win


Because their applications

Were doctored over-seas

We’re sending innocent Indians back

But not their student fees




And then the heat of day gave way

To rain as clouds filled in

And distant thunder rumbled

Like hippo hooves on tin


Fat and heavy droplets fell

Like grapes with swollen bellies

The leaden skies were threatening

An afternoon in wellies


The bumble bees oblivious

Continued with their chores

Like chubby chaps on motorbikes

They tour the great out doors


In and out the garden beds

Then off to who knows where

They somehow dodge the rods of rain

That clutter up the air

21/11/2016 DOING IT ROUGH


A special squad from Christchurch

Left without delay

Heading north on broken roads

With landslips in the way


Driven by their duty

Guided by the stars

In search of earthquake refugees

Still sleeping in their cars


Not to bring them food and drink

Or clothes or rescue hampers

But to fine them all for being

Flagrant freedom campers


5/12/2016 LEGACY

Each leader leaves a legacy

So what will John Key’s be?

The pulling of a ponytail

Or widespread poverty


The teapot tapes, the flag that failed

The Auckland housing crisis

The awkward three-way hand-shake

His plans to combat Isis


The end of social housing

A tax on capital gains

Tolls on roads and bridges

A brand new tax on planes


Underfunding mental health

The widespread use of ‘P’

Pollution of our waterways

The pillaging of the sea


Commercializing National Parks

Privatizing jails

The ‘no rights’ ninety day work trial

The vital assets sales


The education dumb-down

The widened income gap

The Nova- pay debacle

The ‘dirty politics’ flap


All or any of these facts?

No nothing of the sort

He’ll just pay Paula Rebstock

To write a new report


Each leader leaves a legacy

So what will John Key’s be?

One of self-enhancement

Or human decency?


Will he be remembered for

The flip-flops that he turned?

His retrospective laws

Or the promises he burned?


Or will he be remembered as

A brave and handsome knight?

A man with heart and passion

Who simply put things right




Beneath the pile of presents

The frazzled Christmas shopping

The cards and decorations

The cake and champagne popping


Beneath the ham and turkey

The flaming pud and pies

Beneath the tinselled fake pine tree

The Christmas message lies


Observe the golden rule

Be generous and true

And do unto thy neighbours

Before they do to you



1/6/2015 FIFA

The under-twenty world cup will

Soon be underway

With team officials wondering

Just who they’re meant to pay


We don’t do dodgy backroom deals

There’s no corruption here

It’s Middle Earth not Middle East

So let’s get one thing clear


In kickback-free New Zealand

There are no bribery bosses

Although McCully may be keen

To cover recent losses


A time a place

A curve in space

The comet’s graceful arc

The Lander and

Its host as planned

Speed through the cold and dark


A cosmic clock

A craggy rock

Pure stardust in its wake

A silent night

A ray of light

Some simple cells awake


Its small array

So far away

Up in that starry dome

Soaks up the sun

Till charging ’s done

And Philae can phone home

29/6/2015 ONE OFF EVENTS

The weather’s getting more intense

As any fool can see

There’s more and more one off events

Each year there’s two or three


Tornados tour the hinterland

There’s drought in northern parts

The south’s a frozen wonderland

As soon as winter starts


A once a century rain rains down

There’s flooding here and there

In city streets and field and town

There’s water everywhere


Communities left ill at ease

Emergencies each week

Calamities, catastrophes

Even as we speak


There’s gale force winds and snowy falls

And earthquakes too to boot

Our backs are up against the walls

Our scientists are mute


Some comfort for the poor insane

At least we’re not alone

The whole world’s on this weather train

Into the great unknown


As winter grips North Islanders

Down South we feel your pain

Despite the lack of Highlanders

The All Blacks win again


A lower dairy pay-out sucks

Another pit-bull bites

A jail absconding escapee

Demands his civil rights


Democracy’s too dangerous

For Canterbury it seems

You give those people power and

They’ll start preserving streams


There’s white whales in our waters

Black widows in our grapes

Cancer sticks are fine to smoke

But not those harmless ‘Vapes’


China’s stocks are crashing

Greece is going bust

Bankers turn to governments

Investments turn to dust

27/7/2015 PIGEON PIE

High up in a cherry tree

A wee wood- pigeon sat

Gorging on the berries till

He grew quite big and fat


Grew plumper than a possum

Grew fatter than a cat

Grew so wide on either side

He squashed the branches flat


He grew so fat he could not fly

It made me sad it made me cry

But in truth, oh my, oh my!

That pigeon made a lovely pie


And that’s the end of that

10/8/2015 A CASE-IN POINT


Pay peanuts – you get monkeys

The clichés never cease

But pay those monkeys millions

And their IQs will increase


The media are milking it

The farmers feel the pain

The foreign banks are creaming it

Big profits once again


The latest dairy payout –

Although the tank is full

With one thing or an udder,

Is unsustainabull


Cold comfort for producers –

That interest rates are easing,

Without their winter Jerseys

Half the cows are Friesian



Beware the wounded tiger-worm

Most dangerous of them all

They could become man-eaters

If men weren’t quite so tall


Thank God Work Safe New Zealand

Has brought some sense to bear

On high-risk occupations

Where there’s danger everywhere


There’s mayhem on the Mini-golf

Alpaca bites are rife

Some stringent regulations here

Could stem the loss of life


Next time the curtain lady calls

With samples as she said

Make sure she’s in a high-viz vest

With hard-hat on her head.

7/9/2015 WHO'S TO BLAME?

I had a taxing problem

Gave IRD a call

Politely they informed me

That Winz had dropped the ball


So I got Winz’s number

And gave a hopeful dial

I listened to the music

And waited for a while


Waited, waited, waited

Their greatest hits played on

My patience dissipated

My smile had long since gone


I waited for ten minutes

Fifteen turned to twenty

After half an hour

I felt I’d waited plenty


I guessed they must be short of staff

And didn’t have a clue

Where to find some unemployed

In need of work to do


The irony was tragic

But not a special case

I thought it would be quicker if

I saw them face to face


I went down to their building where

It’s true I’d been before

A phalanx of three body-guards

Met me at the door


There in case of trouble

Looking tough but bored

‘Why three?’ I thought then reasoned

That’s all they could afford


I understood the anger

So many clients feel

No way to even have a say

This system can’t be real


Ushered in to stand and wait

And wait and wait in line

Till finally I saw someone

With frowns as mean as mine


I told them my dilemma

They seemed to show no shame

While looking at their screen they said

‘No, A.C.C.’s to blame’


So should I bother calling

Or flag the thing away

I thought I’d better calm down first

And try another day


21/9/2015 HOW LOW

Charging schools for public parks

It makes you stop and think

Pepper-spraying little girls

How low can you sink


Dentists killing lions

Why? It’s hard to know

Journo’s kicking refugees

How low can you go?


A little lower it would seem

With retrospective law

The hypocrites in power rob

The poorest of the poor


Their own pay-rise backdated

With travel perks for life

A junket for the hubby

An upgrade for the wife


It’s one law for the poor

And another for the rich

For some life’s one big party

For others it’s a bit different.



Pelican on lamp-post - Gold Coast

We’ve many similarities

With those across the ditch

But recently relationships

Have run into a hitch


That ban on kiwi apples

Despite so-called fair trade

No social help or benefit

Despite the taxes paid


Forget about the underarm

That once defined a nation

Now it’s cruel detention camps

And heartless deportation


Although we both speak English

And both our flags are blue

We’re worlds apart in culture,

Compassion and I.Q.


19/10/2015 HAY-FEVER


Spring is sprung, the grass is riz

Hay-fever’s on the rise

There’s sniffling and snuffling

And fingers rubbing eyes


Nature may be bursting forth

But pollen-laden breezes

Lead to red, raw tear-ducts

And constant violent sneezes


Pass around the tissues

And hints on what to do

You may have dodged it up till now

But this one’s aimed ‘ATCHOO!’


2/11/2015 THE FINAL AMEN


By seven Sunday morning

The nation will as one

Be celebrating victory

And dancing in the sun


The Wallabies well walloped

The world cup will be ours

In bars the hero worship

Will carry on for hours


The All Blacks will have done it

World champions again

The power and the glory

Forever with our men


16/11/2015 BLACK FRIDAY


The horoscope for your star sign

Is pretty bleak today

Black Friday will affect you in

A detrimental way


You’ll talk to someone that you know

But not know what they meant

You’ll have a spell of weather

Some money will be spent


Number thirteen will loom large

Beware of cats and ladders

Steer clear of female sceptics

And men with dodgy bladders


Whatever your beliefs may be

Or your core convictions

You’ll be exposed to poetry

And dubious predictions




A songbird sang on Bethells Beach

The Dotterels in the dunes

Found it hard to swallow

The fuss about her tunes


We are knot amused they said

By all this filming lark

And surely you could take more kea

Where your vehicles park


‘OK, just keep your heron

Came the swift reply

‘Don’t worry we’ll just pay the bill

Before things go awry


The gullible believed them

The pipers all played on

And then before you knew it

The flocking lot had gone.



Auckland has a problem

But it seems they just can’t see

The rub’s too many people

Not a housing paucity


All the experts seem to want

A full-on building spree

But urban sprawl’s not wanted so

The answer needs to be


High-rise, in-fill housing

From sea to C B D

And so my one quick question is

Just how dense can you be?


28/12/2015 PEACE ON EARTH


It’s Christmas day at my place

So where do we begin

Throw back the bedroom curtains

And let the sun flood in


Outside the birds are singing

It’s barely six o’clock

First of all I need to pee

Then check my Christmas sock


Beneath the decorated tree

The bulging stocking lies

Full of cherries, wine and treats

Chocolates and mince pies


The radio plays carols

Their harmonies sound sweet

I dress in shorts and t-shirt

With jandals on my feet


There’s evidence a-plenty

That Santa’s done his round

His reindeer or a possum have

Left presents on the ground


A walk around the native bush

Through the dappled light

Creates a sense of wonder and

Works up an appetite

Then breakfast at the breakfast bar

Out on the patio

Coffee, cream and croissants

A pigeon sweeps in low


A blackbird in the bird-bath

Splashes with delight

A tui pipes a cheerful tune

While hidden out of sight


The goldfish in their lilied pond

Cruise in all directions

The maples round the edges bow

To touch their own reflections


The roses stand with perfect poise

Oozing scented joy

There’s not a breath of wayward wind

No traffic to annoy


There’s only leafy harmony

Blue skies without a crease

The lawns were all mown yesterday

Today’s a day of peace


Peace and quiet solitude

For everything alive

A peace that will be shattered once

The relies all arrive

8/6/2015 HARDY FOLK

Road collapses on the hills

Where the rains came down

Landslips on the lower roads

The harbour’s muddy brown


South Dunedin’s flooded

The worse we’ve seen in years

Brave faces in the doorways

Back rooms filled with tears


Some homes evacuated

It’s best to take precautions

Dunedin’s copped a deluge

Of biblical proportions


Forty days and forty nights worth

Fell in twenty hours

But Southerners are hardy folk

We’re use to passing showers


Kauri logs from swampy bogs

Are smuggled out from under

The noses of authorities

By those intent on plunder


Wide discontent at money spent

On some extravagant sign

The minister for housing

Is called on to resign


Few safeguards for exported sheep

Their welfare or condition

You have to take your hat off to

The Sikh refused admission;


Wind and rain and snow and floods

Murder trials and grief;

Perhaps a world cup final

Will bring some light relief.


Socrates was once declared

The wisest man – it’s true

For he alone of all the Greeks

Knew how little he knew


Billions and billions

Of bankers bucks were leant

But no-one seems to know or care

How the cash was spent


It went on education

A lesson for the poor

So now they know a whole lot less

And owe a whole lot more

20/7/2015 FROZEN

Jack Frost has been a wandering

Around the wooded hills

Leaving crystal calling cards

And spreading winter chills


A frozen winter wonderland

Upon a film of ice

With animated characters

Some good, some not so nice


A spell of freezing weather

Has brought about a change

There’s something in the water

The land is looking strange


The ponds are frozen solid

A Bonspiel’s underway

The curling is unfurling

As the Sun comes out to play


The magic of the scenery

Designer white on white

With heroines and villains locked

Into a frosty fight


There’s rumblings and grumblings

As granite grazes ice

And liquid warmth from barley malt

A necessary vice


These hardy men and women who

Feel neither cold nor pain

With games complete now vow to meet

When Jack Frost calls again


They’re filming fights on mobile phones

And smoking dope and braking bones

But prison costs are low

The jailed inmates have been let loose

Hi on dope and home-brewed juice

What clowns are running this show?


Take the drop or cough up cash

Run the drugs or face the bash

These crimes do more than irk us

It’s enough to make you think

Is this camp or is this clink

Or just a three ringed Sercos

17/8/2015 RINSE AND SPIT

As above – so below

Ten thousand well drilled holes

Peer down from soft-board ceiling tiles

At panic-stricken souls


In the dreaded dental chair

Staring at the ceiling
Apparently this needle will
Remove all pain and feeling 


Paper bib and goggles to

Protect you from all harm

A giant pizza-pie-shaped light

On double-jointed arm


Lie back and think of England

Or any other place

As latex covered foreign fingers

Forage in your face


Rubber gloves in blubber mouth

Lips and tongue gone numb

The smell and taste of powdered tooth

But worse is yet to come


Suction draws out all the drool

Cool air pin-points the pain

The snake-like, high-pitched, whining drill

Powers up again


Prod and poke and gag and choke

Breathing’s hard to manage

And then the feared extraction as

The invoice shows the damage

31/8/2015 WRITING A POEM

When you’re writing poetry

Don’t be vain or vague

And steer well clear of clichés

Avoid them like the plague


Write in the first person

Express your point of view

And maybe crib from someone else

A style that’s really you


Explain to all the waiting world

Why you’re misunderstood

And use your full vocabulary

That’s really, really, good


Alliteration’s ill-advised

And so is measured meter

And if you must use couplets

At least make sure they rhyme


Focus on your feelings

The drivel and the dirge

And lo: before you know it

A poem will emerge


We’re doing all right in the rugby and rowing

The milk and the honey aren’t quite overflowing

House prices are up, the economy’s slowing

To fix or to float there’s no way of knowing


Support for the flag – your colours are showing

Desire for new – or allegiances owing

The cold winds of change are building and blowing

But will they affect the sustained status quo-ing


The refugee question is growing and growing

Political flip-flops with to-ing and fro-ing

Who’s dragging their feet? Who’s doing the towing?

Now follow your leader to where you were going





It’s rugby for breakfast, dinner and tea

The passion, the glory, the fame

If you’re feeling left out ’cause you don’t know the rules

Here’s a quick overview of the game


Crouch, bind, set the scrum

Too slow, get the ball into play

Popping up, pulling down and Spinning it round

Collapsing, not rolling away


Deliberate knock-on, accidental offside

Upending and coming around

Lazy running, lost forward, calling a mark

Man playing the ball on the ground


Out on the full, not going back ten

Quick throw-in not with the right ball

The ball wasn’t out, hands in the ruck

And a man splitting off from the maul


Ball not in straight, too few in the line

Come back for a dangerous head high

It’s penalty kick after penalty kick

And nobody really knows why


Impeding the runner, advantage is over

Playing the man in the air

Yellow or red for back-chatting the ref’

Double play on the line, is he there?


We’re going upstairs to fully review

Every angle at very slow speed

There must be a reason not to award it

Just take all the time that you need



You had to be inside the tent –

The T.P.P. tepee

Or sitting at the table

To be able to agree


With all the unknown pros and cons

And flaws that spring to mind

Otherwise it’s hardly wise

To simply sign up blind


So don’t Pooh-pooh protesters who

Pooh-pooh the T.P.P.

They only want to know what’s what

And see less secrecy

26/10/2015 DREAM(dec-)LINERS


Christchurch airport is the pits

For those in need of rest

For little airport Hitlers

It’s a persecution fest


Denying folk a human need

Is neither cool nor funny

Especially when its rationale

Is just to gouge more money


How grateful are you Christchurch

For all the help you got?

Is this your warmest welcome?

Is this your best? or what?


Harassing weary travellers

In need of forty winks

Your atavistic policy’s pathetic

And it stinks


You’re out of touch with decency

And how the public feel

And where are all your P.R. team?

Asleep behind the wheel!






No All Blacks’ games, no Black caps’ ties

No victory parade

No media to cover it

Should any news be made


Dunedin is New Zealand too

Though some may seem to quiz it

It’s nice to know the royals though

Have found us worth a visit


A ‘haere mai’ at Taieri High

A Toitu tour for two

A railway train, a car, a plane

Then off to pastures new


A walk about, a meet and greet

A speech, a face-to-face

One wonders if the those sporting teams

Could match their gruelling pace


23/11/2015 NUMBER 11


The football world had Pele

Cricket had sir Don

In Rugby it was Jonah

Who’s legend now lives on


A global giant of the game

A quiet gentle man

The loss of Lomu saddens each

And every rugby fan


He gave us magic moments

We watched in disbelief

And then so humble off the field

His bright life far too brief


A greater gift than anyone

Who’d ever played before

The man with time for everyone

Alas no time no more



There’s mayhem in the Middle East

It’s all so complicated

A war to save the people

Yet refugees are hated


The risk of greater conflict

Has just been escalated

As Britain votes for air-strikes

The Tories are elated


In Paris global warming

Is heatedly debated

In USA mass killings

Continue unabated


In Africa the Steenkamp camp

Are celebrating yet

The latest twist

Leaves Oscar Pist-

-orius upset


Back home the beef in Wellington

Is berries with Hep A

But at least we’re fully fruit-fly

Free as from today




No balmy breeze

No palmy trees

No pale pacific moon

Will ever be reflected in

The perfect blue lagoon

A tiny tidal atoll made

Entirely of sand

Fights the ocean’s motions as

They lash against the land

The silent island’s highlands

Sink in to the sea

But that’s just global warming

It’s nowt to do with me