Warning: This Poem is Revolting

Warning: This Poem is Revolting

Warning: This Poem is Revolting

The reader’s face was blank
the words had not sunk in.
The poem had been read
but then he chucked it – in the bin!

He didn’t like that poem,
didn’t ascertain its meaning,
he was busy contemplating pies
and the cost of his dry-cleaning.

But this story is just beginning
for metaphor was pissed,
his very being was compromised,
he didn’t like being dissed.

Simile was similarly outraged,
like a prisoner denied a smoke,
he didn’t like this reader
who was dumb beyond the joke,

and narrative was spewing
she was livid, through and through,
she told as much to subject and shape,
and they were fuming too.

Symbolism was gnashing teeth,
a cross tattooed on her back.
Infuriated – an understatement –
she wouldn’t take no flack.

Outrageous cried the first stanza,
turning to the second,
this reader – talk about acting the goat,
is that what you would reckon?

K’noath, that’s pretty much how I do feel,
my tone is smoky red,
I’m only short but misunderstood
is not the way I’m read.

By now allusion was going crazy,
cartoon smoke came out his ears,
bit like the lies from Abbott’s mouth
before he safely engaged the gears.

Now rhythm and rhyme were plotting,
they were going with the flow,
let’s take revenge on this dim-witted dude
he knows not how low he will go.

The attributes of the poem united
in ranting, and bristling and bridling.
The theme would be taking revenge
and in this there would be no dam idling.

They gathered their weapons so swift –
there were knives, a chainsaw, an axe –
oh yes, they were ready for battle
and reader was not watching his back.

The reader’s face was blank
as you’d suspect from someone dead,
he had failed to hear the music,
so they cut off his empty head.

(soundtrack to the poem)


Note: Recently there was an interesting comment thread on Aussie writer Nigel Featherstone’s blog where we were talking about a ‘poem … going to go wild and violent due to being shunned and misunderstood!’ Nigel asked me to write the poem (we will soon be making the movie 😉 ).

Acrostic for Sufferers of Bovinephobia 😉

Acrostic for Sufferers of Bovinephobia 😉

Run (by Michael Bryden)
Run (by Michael Bryden)


Acrostic for Sufferers of Bovineophobia

Beware the beasts
Out to get you.
Vibrations of rage, running deep
Into the heart of the ground.
Nimble thy feet will be to avoid the
Excruciating crush of the bovine burden.
Oppressed you will feel, it is only fair.
Pray for divine assistance –
Holy cow!
Oh Lordy, get me outta here.
Bovine phobia, yes
It’s a thing.
And the cattle cry – Alleluia.


Note: for bluebee who is a sufferer 😀


Nuddernote: fear of cattle is justified 😉 they are huge beasties and can squish you without even meaning too!

The Tale of Black Rosita

The Tale of Black Rosita


The Tale of Black Rosita

There was a girl child, Black Rosita

who never once did seem to cry,

but always smiled, a flash of dare.

She once broke her foot while running free

in the dark forest that embraced the town,

and still she did not make a sound or cry.

Many believed her evil for the lack of tears.

One day a troublesome witch

spun a spell to make the girl child cry,

and so the tears began to flow

like a dam had been removed,

they flowed for two years

and some more.

A salty ocean began to rise

around the girl child, Black Rosita.

She was drowning in a spell of tears

and she knew not what to do.

But the dark angel of time was listening

and had grown tired of her tears and cries.

He exhaled a powerful breath of air

to blow a life raft into her path.

Black Rosita swam with arms so weak

toward the boat, then clinging with clawed hands

as only a drowning fool can cling,

too tired to get in, but still with breath.

Black Rosita drifted back to shore,

a mollusc attached to an empty vessel.

The crying had stopped, the spell was broken

and the villagers awaited Black Rosita.


(to be cont.)

Just for Fun (Nigel’s Baby)

Just for Fun (Nigel’s Baby)

Nigel’s Baby

Baby novel on the way
Nigel’s novella:
I’m Ready Now
the name,
he’s as ready as can be
for the delivery,
from delicate cocoon
to reader’s sphere,
from launch
to baby steps,
to up and running,
running solo –
Dad waving from the margins,
letting go
I’m Ready Now
Let’s Go!


Note: The wonderful author, columnist, blogger, editor, lane lover and chook owner Nigel Featherstone has completed his draft novella ‘I’m Ready Now‘ for publication by Blemish Books.  This is his second novella to be published (the first being ‘Fall on Me‘).

He recently blogged about the process of letting go when an author has finished writing a book. I loved his first born novella ‘Fall on Me‘ and am sure that ‘I’m Ready Now‘ will be a splendiferous sibling. He also has a novel who left home some years back (and we won’t even talk about the assortment of short stories who flew the coop).

Enjoy the process Nigel – they grow up so quickly (but it’s fun to make another one 😉 ).


Send me your lemons, lemonade and assorted citrus

Send me your lemons, lemonade and assorted citrus

'Lemonade' photo by Gabrielle Bryden


Citrus Fiesta

I love all things lemon and citrus!

I love lemons, lemonades, mandarins, oranges, grapefruit, lime and assorted sub-categories 🙂

I have written a few lemon poems in my day (I’ll repost some), but I need more.

Maybe my friends in the blogosphere can help.

I had a penguin week, and now I am going to have a citrus week (or two).

I am after poems, art, photography or even jokes about lemons and other citrus.

I will post as much as I can (depending on the volume) on my blog in the next week or so (with acknowledgements of course 🙂 )

We can all have a citrus fiesta in the blogosphere.

Regular readers can send stuff by email to:

gbryden at bigpond dot com

(just replace the at with @ and the dot with . )


ps. Thanks bluebee for giving me the idea.

pps. Lemons are my favourite.

ppps. Don’t send stuff if I don’t know who you are (ie., if you have never commented) as that would be a bit weird!


cold and hot with one letter lost to evaporation

cold and hot with one letter lost to evaporation


cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold



hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot
hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot
hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot
hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot
hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot
hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot
hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot

Frog fast food factory

Frog fast food factory

Dear Lord, thank you for the frog fast food factory!
The frog fast-food factory

Frog Fast-Food Factory

I happened upon this bug catcher,
a wondrous cage of light
in downtown veranda-villa,
sparking up most every night.

There is a family, they flick a switch,
the cage lights up, so sweet.
The bug-eyed bugs, too mesmerised
are zapped and ready to eat!

The electricity, it does its job
the moths and flies, deceased
with a flavour slightly BBQ’d
they become a sumptuous feast,

for frogs of all persuasions,
it’s an easy, laid back affair
care of the fast-food factory
for us frogs, without a care.

Frog fast-food factory.
Stay away from my bugs!
Michael’s Birthday Countdown

Michael’s Birthday Countdown

This is just a bit of fun (I try not to take myself too seriously) written with my son Michael’s voice – it’s 4 sleeps now.

Do you remember your 10th birthday?

I remember when my brother, two years older than me, turned 10 and I thought it was the biggest thing ever.

Michael’s Birthday Countdown

Five sleeps to the day
when I go from single
to double digits


this is big
it’s huge
extraterrestrially phantasmagorically


it’s hard to sleep
with the anticipation

I’m tingling inside
with vibrations
of expectations

an exclamation
marks the spot

Slow Motion Hummingbirds

Slow Motion Hummingbirds

I wrote this for fellow blogger, poet, story teller Val Brussell who is a big fan of the Hummingbird. New Phantom High Speed Cameras (200 to 500 frame rate) have captured some never before seen behaviours of this tiny, amazing bird.

Here is a youtube video about the technology and with some footage of the Hummingbird (the poem makes more sense if you watch the video)

Slow motion hummingbirds

This is a bad day for hummingbirds
the hummingbird murmured to me
sounding like a purring puddy tat
filled up on sardines and cream.

That phantom high speed camera
has shown things that we’d like discrete
unblurring our swirling invisibility sheen
revealing fantastical feats.

That super fast lens caught me right in the act
sneaking in a swift head peck
well what do you expect, it’s nectar
a delight to dehydrated beaks.

But it’s not all bad, he chortled
you humans are looking the fool
you thought that you knew us inside and out
but your errors mean you are the tools.

I’ll be off now he chattered with a smile in his heart
bustling backwards with an elegant swirl
must apologise to my mate for pecking his head
then he was gone in the windiest whirl.