Poetic Perce

It  Could Be Worse Verse But I Doubt It    (To me, poetry is an escape, I write it purely as fun)


Poetic Perce was actually a character in one of Bob’s earliest poems. Soon after that he became Bob’s poetry writing alter ego.

The Journey:

Long ago I had a dream and that dream was to write
I worked two jobs ev’ry day and wrote alone at night
Baldacci was the writer I wanted most to be
Somehow got lost on the way and ended up as me
The journey stopped many times as life got in the way
Girls and cars and little kids need more hours in the day
Many nights I sat alone just the ‘puter and me
Struggled with some new idea and a cold pot of tea
Then I learned of Gayle and Jeff a great publishing team
Who gave this Aussie writer the chance to live his dream
Time’s now made it all worthwhile my goal has been achieved
I just hope it lives up to the praise it has received
At long last my life’s fulfilled the journey’s now complete
The Ultimate Betrayal is now out on the street


The Place I Want To Be  (There’s no place quite like home)

There’s a breeze that brings cleansing to our self-polluted air
There’s the peace that can be found with Grandma on her chair
There’s the warmth of a log fire on a cold and chilly night
There’s the crispness of morning Dawn’s birthing of daylight
These are but a sample of your offerings to me
Australia my homeland the place I want to be

A land so blessed by beauty in nature’s colour scheme
From the sandy arid deserts to a rushin’ mountain stream
There’s the Great Dividing Ranges rising upwards to the sky
And a coastline of ocean waters so pleasing to the eye
These are the pictures you bring to mind in me
Australia my homeland the place I want to be

Then there are the memories of a farm so far away
Of early morning milkings or the harvesting of hay
And who’ll forget the summer days ten hours of blazing sun
There’s no time to rest or waste there’s so much to be done
These are the realities you bring to life in me
Australia my homeland the place I want to be

Let’s not forget the hardships the floods, and fires and drought
And we must never lose the spirit of what being Aussie’s about
The offering of a helpin’ hand to someone who’s in need
Of standing round a barbeque for an old style Aussie feed
We call it Aussie mateship it makes our Nation strong
Australia my homeland the place where I belong


The Groom & His Bride   (My Parents: Written many years ago when they were still with us)

They’re old now and they’re grey now
They have a wisdom born of years
They’ve seen tough times and good times
And shed their share of tears
Still they can recall the years of the horse and cart
They still believe in marriage believing death alone should part
So who are these people we now salute with pride
Sixty years ago they were the groom and his bride

Now they’re nearing ninety their race is almost run
Everyday they thank the Lord for all the things He’s done
Never do they question not even their life’s most tragic fate
The loss of a son aged fifty one our brother and our mate
Through out their life they battled to raise their family
Teaching us the values of truth, honour and dignity
Now we all stand with them proudly by their side
Giving honour to our parents the groom and his bride

One day we will all gather to bid them farewell
We’ll pray to God that we might live our lives half as well
They’ll always live in memory for the decent lives they lead
The world would be a better place if it practiced what they said
Just love one another and learn to control your greed
And in God accept He’ll provide all you’ll ever need
Life really is that simple it’s truth can’t be denied
It’s how they lived all their lives the groom and his bride


Anzac  Cove  (A tribute to our soldiers at Gallipoli in 1915)

Like lambs to the slaughter they splashed through the water
Courage their weapon of choice
In that first light of dawn tradition was born
As gunfire out volumed all voice

With a chance less than nil but determined of will
They obeyed their English command
No time to stand still they charged for the hill
Leaving bodies and blood on the sand

For day after day through April and May
They watched a death toll soar higher
But their courage held true as they battled on through
Five more months of Turkish gunfire

On that day of retreat half dead on their feet
They displayed their courage and pride
As they splashed through the water survivors of slaughter
To the safety of boats on the tide

The legend still grows the whole world now knows
Courage remains their weapon of choice
They are now at peace their battles long ceased
Now ignorance out volumes their voice


A Great Woman  (We all know one)

She doesn’t have a name
That’s known to everyone
Though not rich or famous
She shines bright as the sun

She held us all together
When times were really tough
Then gave her all but feared
That might not be enough

She’s lost sons in battles
And shed her tears of grief
Talked to God on Sundays
Her faith brought her relief

She has live through many ages
Depressions and the wars
She’s proud of her country
Stood by its every cause

In adversity or trouble
You knew she’d always come
She’s the universal angel
She wears the name of MUM


STEVE  (Mr. Irwin needs no introduction. He left us 4/9/2006)

You were to conservation
What DaVinci was to art
You were a man of passion
Wild life it ruled your heart

Your goal was preservation
Reptiles your speciality
Wrestling crocs and handling snakes
It made for good TV

And yes you were a showman
The camera shone on you
You preached your message clearly
‘Preserve we can’t renew.’

You taught our generation
So much we didn’t know
By ‘crikey’ you would tell us
‘What’s good we can’t let go.’

Now our nation is in mourning
We’re still bereft in shock
God’s claimed our greatest treasure
The man we knew as Croc

It’s thought God needed someone
To help Him run His farm
Someone who loved all animals
One rich in wit and charm

So when the angels went in search
They scarcely could believe
They found the perfect applicant
An Aussie guy named Steve


We Are Who We Are

You might be an Aussie, a Yank or a Pom
It doesn’t really matter what country you’re from
You’re the generation advanced in your years
Blessed with fond memories, old friends and ideas
You might be a Nanna, a Poppy or Pa
But you’re the real reason we are who we are

We sit back and recall all the stories you’ve told
Of the days without work and sleepin’ in the cold
When money was something you shared with your mate
What was left on Sunday went on the Church plate
You’ve lead by example dear Nanny and Pa
You’re the real reason we are who we are


‘My Pant’s,’ cried The Senator      (A piece of absolute nonsense)

“My pants,” cried the Senator as he ran from the room
His privates concealed behind the brush of a broom
With his face now downcast all the cameras went flash
He sped like a sprinter on a fifty yard dash
Across the large foyer he ran to his car
Hanging round his neck was a frilly lace bra

But the car door was locked and his keys were inside
He stood there stark naked all he wore was his pride
And that was soon dented by the gathering crowd
They giggled and sneered then mocked him out loud
Next day he was featured in bad jokes and cartoons
As senator sinner and a bumbling buffoon

When the senator confessed the story he told
Was of a lonely young girl so broke and so cold
So as a gentleman should I then tried to assist
How was I to know she would so strongly insist
In repaying my kindness the one way she knew
There are times when it’s hard what’s a man ‘sposed to do?’

With an election upcoming I might need her vote
So I did as she asked and her words I will quote
‘It might be more comfy leave your clothes on the floor
Now come lay beside me she wore a smile no more’
As a God fearing man all my thoughts went askew
When she wriggled her hips what’s a man ‘sposed to do

Next thing I remember I’m again on my feet
I’m stark bloody naked and out there on the street
The cameras are flashing the crowd’s chanting for blood
My mouth’s dry as a desert I’d die for a Bud
Then I came to my senses wondered if she might sue
But she said I was better than Bill you know who

A Christmas Offering

In a tiny little country town a long long way out west
Rudolph and the sleigh were parked ’cause Santa needed rest
It was the morning of Christmas they’d worked all through the night
Delivering all of Santa’s gifts they had finished ‘fore daylight

As Santa took a look around at the dry and dusty field
He understood the farmers plight of another zero yield
Then in the faraway distance he heard an awesome sound
Floating atop the gentlest breeze suggesting peace had been found

‘Twas the sweetest sound of singing it danced across the land
Santa recalled the rocking beat it was McNamara’s band
The music was loud and scratchy the vocals way off key
They were singing ’bout a birthday for some bloke named JC

As Santa glanced around he felt a tear form in his eye
It trickled down his cheek then dropped to where it was so dry
Dark clouds then rolled across the sky the rain began to fall
And Santa saw what God could give the greatest gift of all

Now Santa was a happy man was time for him to go
Looking down at river beds the rain would see them flow
It was Santa’s very best Christmas everything had gone just right
He’d never forget McNamara’s band and their singing ‘Silent Night

Through The Eyes Of A Book

I’ve climbed the rigging of an old sailing ship
Ridden the wild west with a gun on my hip
Soared into space like a real astronaut
Served as a soldier many battles I’ve fought
I can see on your face the strangest of looks
I’ve been all these places through the reading of books

I’ve listened to Caesar on the steps of old Rome
Sung with the Beatles on the stage at the ‘Dome
Sat with Miss Mitchell as she struggled with Rhett
Seen the genius of film with DeMille on the set
A book’s like a visit it can go anywhere
Any time, any place and it’s free as fresh air

They can tell of tomorrow or be set in today
From Harry Potter to a Shakespeare play
There’s fiction and fact intrigue and true love
A book called the bible tells of the Man up above
So my friends I suggest you take a good look
And learn from the lessons contained in a book

Dreams Of Peace (My first ever poem)

As I look out my window
At the everchanging skyline
I can’t help but see
This old world’s not going how
It’s supposed to be
There’s wars in the west
and riots in the east
Will these problems ever cease
Or do I live in a fantasy world
In my dreams of peace

Can’t politicians work out
What is wrong from right
Must they send innocent men to do
In a never ending fight
Don’t they know in a war
Everyone must lose
Isn’t there a better way
For them to choose
Who owns what and who goes where
Will these problems ever cease
Or do I live in a fantasy world
In my dreams of peace

Don’t industry leaders understand
The need for global restraint
The future of the world is in their hands
Mother Nature is growing faint
Destruction of her jungles & pollution of her seas
Purged in man’s quest for greed
Must be halted immediately
If there’s to be a future for our breed
Don’t these people care at all
Will their avarice ever cease
Or do I live in a fantasy world
In my dreams of peace


Old cars, old men and old memories
Model T’s, 1914 and the war
Anzac, Gallipoli oh God the slaughter
There still there the memories I store

A tattered photograph album tells so vividly
A wedding, a home and six boys
She’s dead, they’re gone I’m alone now
With memories of sorrows and joys

My Friend Jack Daniels

My friend Jack Daniels don’t help me
When it comes to thinking straight
But he’s always there when I’m alone
Or when the night is drawing late
He warms me up when I am cold
Eases the pain of growing old
but he’s always there when I awake
And the doubts start over again

My frield Jack Daniels don’t lecture me
On the mistakes I’ve made in my life
Like quitting my job and walking out
On the woman who was my wife
Jack offers explanations for every doubt
Convinces life is better without
Responsibilities and friends
Who never really cared

My friend Jack Daniels helps me forget
By shielding from reality
But not even he can hide the things
I don’t want to see
No longer can I deny the pasy
The hurt remains the memories last
I would give anything
To be allowed start over again

My friend Jack Daniels is no more
Than a fading memory
The woman I loved so long ago
Has come and rescued me
My empty heart she filled with love
Forgave all the sins I was guilty of
How can I ever repay
Her loving me back to life

So it’s goodbye Jack Daniels and hullo love
She’s given what I’m not deserving of
How can I ever repay
Her loving me back to life

A Life Without Love

A life without love
Is like a ship without seas
Like a night without stars
Like a forrest with no trees
Like a day without night
Without wrong without right
A life without love
Is no life

While we must define
What is it we seek
Commitment or courage
Resolve is so weak
But there is one question
We dare not to speak
Why does true love
All too often grow bleak

The answer’s not simple
It’s somewhere inside
Life is so complex
Like the ebbing of tide
We know not tomorrow
What fate may decide
Life is but a battle
It won’t be denied

So know now my friend
All is not lost
Just live for today
And fear not the cost.

Poetic Perce (Against better judgement I include this. It doesn’t even qualify as woeful)

Pammy Ayres from England came to spread her words of verse
Well I’m her Aussie counterpart, me name’s Poetic Perce
She writes about her dogs and cats and her little kid of late
Well I’ve got no kids or cats but me dog is me best mate
Many a night I’ve gone out and got too drunk to see
And never once when I awake has he come and lectured me

I remember well the other morn when I’d not a bite to eat
He scared off next door’s poodle and we shared that doggies meat
He never asks of anything but to stand loyal by me side
And never makes a fuss or carries on when it’s obvious I’ve lied
What better mate could anyone ask than me shaggy canine mate
Sure Pammy your kid might be nice but me mongrel dog is great

Pam Ayres was a very successful English poet of the 70’s

The Booze Bus (Another of my early attempts)

I was motoring along humming a Humperdinck song
And I’d downed a tube or two
The world seemed serene I hand’t yet seen
The flashing light and the man in blue

I said a quick prayer which in itself was quite rare
Still he flagged me in to stop
What could I say might a bribe pave the way
For escaping this booze bus cop.

He came to my door I slurred “What is all this for”
He wore a confident grin
From the look in his eye I sensed he’d not buy
My claim of one solitary gin

It was so plain to see he disbelieved me
So I opted for plan number two
A quick twist and kick I became violently sick
And all up over the copper I threw

He seemed most displeased he went pale and wheezed
And screamed ‘For this you will pay.
When I fronted the court the penalty he sought
Was hard labour for life plus a day

The magistrate concurred I said not a word
Cause inside I knew he was right
So despite my protest the booze bus can’t rest
It makes our roads safer at night

Lanky Leroy (Another old write)

Lanky Leroy was a preaching cowboy
Harry the horse was his steed
Lee limped with gout as they together set out
To spread the word of his creed

The first port of call was the old drinker’s hall
Poor Harry waited by the door
Lee began to shout, “Let me tell you about”
A full bottle dropped him to the floor.

Undeterred he went on with a lump on his scone
The size of a big green pear
“Please listen my brothers, I’m not like the others”
This time he was dropped with a chair

It flew through the air then parted his hair
He remained silent a moment or more
Retreating with style he gave a half smile
“Is this the way to the door?”

As he combed back his hair, “Let’s try over there,”
He said to his trusty grey mate
He strode right on in to the den of great sin
The saloon of Calamity Kate

The music was blaring the men were all staring
As ladies danced partially clad
“Stop it’ he yelled again he was felled
This time by the barmaid Glad

Determined he rose feeling his nose
Now spread all over his face
“Please listen” he pleaded “the devil’s succeeded’
They hurled him out of the place

Two big bulky drinkers, by God they were stinkers
They hoisted him high in the air
He sailed with ease in the evening’s cool breeze
Till he collided with a cast iron chair

When he finally came round he just lay on the ground
Wishing he was dead
When he opened his eyes he surely realised
In a new direction he must head

From religion he turned the good life he spurned
He became a man of sin
When he’d see a preached he’d scream at the creature
“Get out man who let you in

From a heavenly sell he landed in hell
He asked “Why am I here?”
“I needed a poker and you’re the right joker”
Replien Old Nick with a sneer

The moral of the tail don’t quit if you fail
Perserverence now there is the key
Success it will come if you keep off your bum
Opportunity’s there for the taking you see


Poetic Perce — 1 Comment

  1. Thank you for your suggestion. I must confess to two things, one a computer illiterate and two, I’m a skeptuc when it comes to offers such as this. I do appreciate your time in dropping by and offerong advice. Have a great day Margaret

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