Poetry in Paradise 2014
The Gold Coast's ONLY non critiquing or judgmental
Established 10 years
The Poetry in Paradise Group
Below - Some of the Poets
Book of Poems
'Poems from Poetry in Paradise' is a record of poetry read/recited at each meeting. The cost to members is $2.50. Please pre-order if you want extra copies, or if you did not attend the previous P.I.P meeting and present at least one poem.
Dave 'The Banjo' Poetry in Paradise Campfire
Poetry Report for October 2014
We started the day with a few apologies from poets working and or travelling, Marta and David, The Banjo, Vincent, Jean, Gloria, and Alex.
Bob started the day off great with an obituary to common sense as he mourned its passing and that of truth and trust. It was a very funny witty poem and touched on the serious issue of religion and rights of people.
His second poem was a true tale of the day he found a bottle on the beach and a genie made him talk in rhyme for the rest of his life and that really annoyed his wife and caused him lots of strife and to reach for a knife instead of a fife and the content was rife. Bob closed the day with a funny poem about a man that had a battle with a ghost outside the hospital.
Joan recited ‘Lightning Strikes’ written on the monthly theme and very well done and presented. Her second poem was titled ‘Paradox’ and she delved nicely into some of the complexities of life and had us all applauding.
Graham recited another one of his catalogue of poems from memory and amazed us all with his experiences as a young fella many years ago in the ‘bush’, a living Aussie legend and a true wordsmith.
His second poem was an attempt to make a smile go around the world and I think he may have achieved his goal.
His third poem was another timeless piece titled “The Auctioneer”. His last poem for the day was written in the morning before I picked him up and it was titled “Australia Right or Wrong”, similar theme to Bobs eulogy to common sense.
Eoin recited a great patriotic Australian poem written by a lady that came to Australia as a ten year old child with her family from Surrey in 1855. Maybanke Susannah Anderson was a feminist and educator who founded her own namesake college in 1884.
Judi wrote on the optional monthly theme and we all enjoyed her poem “Lightning Strikes” her words were very positive and related life’s storms to the ones made by Mother Nature and how we have to our best in the conditions we find throughout our journey.
Her second poem was on the optional first line as she took us around the corner and pondered on what may be around that next bend and how life is full of surprises and how our hearts have many corners and contain all our special memories and feelings.
Alan shared his tale of being a newly arrived Pommy living in NZ teaching a difficult vegetarian arrogant American diplomat about the finesses of cricket as opposed to base ball. He took the visitor to Eden Park on day 5 of a test and had to explain how it could still be a draw, the Yank eventually got interested and enjoyed the day and was fascinated about the players going “out for tea”; he wondered how his countrymen would react with bases loaded bottom of the ninth in the worlds series and the players toddle off for tea!!!
His second poem was the recital of the brilliant “Galaxy Song” by the talented Monty Python team; he was amazed that we are thirty thousand light years from galactic central point and we go around every two hundred million years, and that our galaxy is only one of millions of billions in this amazing and expanding universe!!
His third poem was about the mix up at the funeral of a lady that was not much liked; her daughters had requested “Somewhere over the rainbow” but unfortunately by accident they played “Ding Dong the Witch is dead”.
Ted recited a poem that he wrote on a recent trip to Tassie, it include both the optional monthly theme and first line, he spoke of nature, birds, storms, writers block and ‘Wattlemania’. He also proudly spoke of work on his second novel, his first novel “Killing Season” was published a few years ago and now this one is well under way.
Joyce wrote sneaky poem that has us all thinking she lived near a boudoir but in the end it was a bunch of stargazing astronomers with their red lights that kept her up at night.
Her second poem was a comical tale told as a warning to men to wear tight fitting jocks and to woman to know their man’s legs a little better when their heads ain’t in sight, poor RACQ fella.
Mac told the tale of recent trip to the floor at the last poetry meeting and the subsequent unrelated stay in the hospital; he used the time wisely and wrote the precautionary tale in his hospital bed!!
His second poem was about a car smash ‘around the corner’ from his house and how the “P” plater was on his mobile at the time. His third poem was written in 1788 tilted “Bullocky Bill” and it was in a poetry book that their son gave Joyce for her birthday.
Marina and Bram joined us again and she has written some new poems, she shared her thoughts in “Over the Hill” and told how they are both lovin the journey and she prompted everyone to go out and enjoy life to the full, to go and do a course or ride a horse.
Her second poem was about the sadness tragedy and cruelty of dementia and how it robs people of their identity and they become lost to the world and can decline into just a shell of the person they once were.
Bram recited a poem penned by Marina and spoken inna da langquige ofa da men froma Italia, ita wassa a da very funny and he wassa onca assted to shut uppa his face. His second poem was a parody of “My Irish Rose” and was along the lines of ‘my runny nose’, very funny and he needed a tissue or two.
Manya wrote a very nice poem about and Angel she saw when she was a young lady and how it has stayed with her through her life and at times was very much needed and thanked.
Her second poem was “Suspense” and she told of a very funny couple who’s relationship came to a sudden demise due to him going on the www to look at ladies in suspenders and a whole lot less, she put on her suspenders and dressed to kill then walked in and told him to get out!!!!!!!!!
David’s poem was on the monthly theme as he also relayed life to lighting strikes and storms to both nature and people, he spoke of the positive things we can all do to fulfil our destiny. His second poem he wrote in April and his recital was tributed to Roger and his absence overseas for love, it reminded David of Hinkumboobies and Rhabdomonists and was very funny.
Bob our resident ‘Dr Bob’ recited some nice poems from one of his several published collections. The first was “Daily Life” and told of his past loves and dreams floated away on the ebb of life’s ocean.
His second poem was “The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth” and he started with the introduction stating that some poems are just not likable at all as recited the dark themed poem of death misery and loss of young soldier’s lives and how he doubts that the meek will inherit anything other than the task of fertilising the soil. His third was more uplifting as he spoke of love and good things in life as he floated through he nectar of love and time.
Trish recited a poem about her time spent in a desert in a Tunisian prison, and we all thought she was such a sweet innocent ‘Lady”, but as the poem went on we discovered her lodgings on a holiday were in fact a former jail and she had to sleep in a single cell on a hard bed with no electricity and no toilets!!
Her second poem was about a hypnotist she once encountered and she tried to out stare his powerful gaze into her soul but she lost and had to walk away defeated and leave the lizard on the rocks by the pool!! Her third poem was faultless as she recited “Faultless” and stated it was not really her fault and that she was innocent and not guilty and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, honestly.
Thank you everyone for a great month and for your poetry and friendship. Next months optional theme is “Robots” a word that Marta informed me is from her native Poland and originates from a church word “Rabota” meaning “servitude”. The optional first line is “I had a favourite pet, it was …………………….”
Enjoy coming up with new poems and I’ll see you all in November on the 16th.
Directly after the poetry meeting Irene and I have invited everyone to the historic “Anglers Arms Hotel” (about 800 metres to the south) for a lemon lime and bitters and then for an early pre Christmas poetry friends dinner.
Bye for now and thank your Mother for the Rabbits, Jeff, Irene, Joan and the Poets in Paradise.
January: 19th – Roads.
June: 15th – Sunshine.
Optional First Lines
January: I was just being me …………………………………
"The Mudgeeraba Budgerigar"
Banjo's Camp Fire 2012 - Jeff Goudy
The guests came from miles around with one single heartfelt desire
they all wanted to share the warmth of Banjo's Bush camp fire
Dawn came back out at dusk and welcomed all to the fold
Banjo stoked the campfire. she was all as good as gold
Aussie damper was cooking as we watched the billy boil
the sparks were flying high as Banjo continued with his toil
Tea an coffee were on offer as were lamingtons and dips
salami and cabana were all nibbled thinking of impact on the hips
Irene got in from the Philippines arriving just in time
she turned up in my ute for she is the love of mine
Joan came down from Tennant Creek with tales both tall and true
Proud of where she came from and proud of her Father too
Alex came over from Mt Nathan found the note that he was after
Alpaca's came from some bonogin road up that a way hillside rafter
Roger from South Africa was there and keen to share his verse
generously he fried up his authentic home country made damper an Boerwors
Judi our lovely resident celebrant was there to share and celebrate
sharing her ode to Banjo and we all thought it was great
Sandra seemed to have misplaced her poem for it was not there right on hand
after she ventured all the way over from the long white clouded land
Balmain got a look in too hey with Carlene and O'l Bob
The wine warmed the cockles hey and the saxaroo did it's job
Cathy came so far away I forget how far she drove and flew
folded chair and savouries shared both ole verse and the new
The food was quickly eaten all jaws we did employ
the damper was delicious smothered in ol'cockies joy
The poetry began to flow tales tall and all so true
from aliens to bastards some poems that we all knew
The night was bloody great the campfire chats are our tradition
those that couldn't make it out you don't know what you were missin
Everyone that was there was special we all agreed that we are a truly decent mob
we all hugged and we thanked Banjo for a truly wonderful inspired job.
(c) Jeff Goudy 22/09/2102
A little west of Rathdowney
Where the Logan River flows,
In the shadow of Mt Maroon
Where a breeze so gently blows.
Lies a lonely, dusty gravesite,
Marked with a sad little cross,
Several rough hewn logs surround it;
Not a word to explain this loss.
As far as resting places go
It’s a magic spot to be,
Safe within Flanagan Reserve
Under a eucalypt tree.
To a casual observer
One ponders the circumstance.
Most likely a pioneer,
A burial left to chance.
Who was this spirited person
Who braved the risks and the rough?
Who ventured untrodden pathways
Each day backbreaking and tough.
Who was this forgotten person?
And how did he or she die?
Were there comforting last moments?
Were there mourners left to cry?
A few enquiries to locals
Unearthed the saddest of tales.
Seems this spot was a stopover post
For drovers and coaches trails.
In the middle eighteen hundreds
‘Twas an outpost faraway,
A young and frightened mother
Felt her baby on its way.
When complications settled in
For some help her man did ride,
But sadly nature turned her back,
The young mum and babe both died.
And as you gaze upon her grave
You wonder at her fear.
Alone and unattended,
Sheer terror; her man not near.
That poor young would be father
Who rode in panic for aid,
Buried his wife and his baby
In a faraway, lonely glade.
We owe much to those pioneers
For their lot was sweat and tears.
They built this splendid country
With their dreams, their strength, their fears.
The locals talk about a plaque
To commemorate this grave.
It would be a fitting gesture
For those early folk so brave.
Kathy Watt August 2014