Ramble: TRAVOLTA DROOLS, SUMMER COOLS, RABBITS RULE

2 Comments

So, you hear all these rumours about John Travolta? If you’re unaware, 5 or 6 men have come out with increasingly graphic descriptions of their gay encounters with the Urban Cowboy. Travolta and his camp have denied or ignored all these ‘revelations’ but you have to wonder, don’t you? My own theory is that Travolta is either trying to break away from, or gain more power within, the alleged ‘Church’ of Scientology and this is payback or warning of some sort (whether or not its true). I reckon they play dirty in that club for sure – hopefully they don’t come after me just for posting this (although I could use the readership…)

This sort of shit never happened to Tom Cr … oh, wait just a money-grabbin’ minute!

….

While we’re on the celebrity news, sad news this week about the Queen of Disco, Donna Summer, who passed away this week. I am just old enough to remember when “Love to Love You Baby“, “I Feel Love”, and “Hot Stuff” were huge hits on the electonical wireless radio, and they are still played on the radio today (well, on the stations I listen to anyway). Farewell, classy lady.
Still, no reason to let a good pun slip by unused – thanks to Ian Bateman for the one captioning this pic.

I know what you did last, Summer.
You rattled.

….

One of things my wife and I do is foster small animals, rabbits & guinea pigs mostly. If you’re on my Facebook, you will have seen many photos of our various houseguests, who we look after until they are lucky enough to find a permanent home. I could, I suppose, post all of those photos here if people ask me to, but if you’re interested in learning more about the shelter we work with and seeing some of the critters we’ve assisted, head over to Porsche’s Rescue and have a look. In the meantime, here’s some sample cuteness.

Tara and Puffin. NAWWWWWWWWW!

 

Cheers, Darryn

 

 

 

Poem: ODE TO THE IBIS

4 Comments

A few days back I mentioned that I’d misplaced a poem, and a couple of days after that I praised my lovely wife Tara. So, naturally, with a large dollop of appropriate serendipity, Tara then found my missing poem, which I present for you below. Enjoy!

Ode to the Ibis

O! Long legged bird with the probing bill;
Sacred symbol of Thoth;
Black & white eater of rubbish renowned;
To praise you I am quite loth.

O! Grubby invader of parkland;
Freeloading bandit of zoo;
Louse ridden and tapeworm infested;
Naught good can be said about you.

O! Pestilent threskiornithus;
Even your name causes grief;
Dirtiest bird in creation;
Scavenger, vermin & thief.

© Darryn Roberts 2007

Poem: MY ANGEL

2 Comments

Have I mentioned that I’ve been sick lately? No, not ‘feeling up your cousin’ sick, ‘proper sick’ sick. I had the flu. In fact, I had the worst dose of the worst variety of flu ever known on planet Earth. I swear, nobody has ever been as unwell as I was for three days last week, and its a testament to my own fortitude that I managed to make it seem like it was only normal flu and I was just complaining a lot. However, no matter how awesomely self-correcting my immune system is, I would not have gotten better so quickly if not for the gracious and gentle ministrations of my lovely wife Tara. Not only does she have her own blog where you can find delicious and innovative recipes; not only does she run her own remedial massage business; she also makes a kickarse ginger-and-turmeric tea.
Seriously, I’m not much of anything, but I’d be far less without her.

My Angel

I have a guardian angel
Who watches over me.
Her skin is pure like alabaster.
Her eyes shine like eternity.

She is formed unto perfection,
Both on the inside and the out.
Her spirit is as lovely
As the sweet curves of her mouth.

When I’m lost or damaged,
When I’m sure that I’m in Hell,
My angel’s magic touches me
And tells me “All is well”.

She lights my way throughout each day;
She warms the coldest nights;
She makes my body feel alive;
She makes my soul take flight.

Her generosity is boundless,
And her capacity to care.
Even though I cannot always see her,
I always know she’s there.

Without my guardian angel
I’d be a crumpled, shambling mess,
But with her watching over me
I know, instead, I’m blessed.

© Darryn Roberts 2002

Poem: HEART OF LIFE

1 Comment

Its Mother’s Day! Make sure you tell your mother, and everyone else’s mother that you might run into, how special they are. Hell of a job, being a mother – probably harder than anything I’ll ever have to do. I was lucky enough to be able to take my Mum (and my Dad) out for a lovely lunch today, but unfortunately had to miss out on dinner with my mother-in-law last night due to illness. I love them both dearly though, and I hope they know it.

Heart of Life

Under Your heart
from before I was ‘I’
Next to Your heart
everytime I let cry
Warming Your heart
as I learned and I grew
Breaking Your heart
with the things I would do
Knowing Your heart
would always be there
Using Your heart
to carry my cares
Wishing Your heart
had never known sadness
Sorry Your heart
got hurt in my madness
Holding Your heart
ever precious and near
You gave me MY heart,
my own Mother dear.

© Darryn Roberts 2003

Poem: TWO FURRY SPIDERS

2 Comments

I seem to have misplaced a poem, called ODE TO THE IBIS. I was prompted to post it after visiting the zoo earlier this week; the place is full of Australian White Ibis running free and scavenging whatever they can. But I’m buggered if I can find it at the moment, so here’s another animal related piece. Enjoy!

Two Furry Spiders

Two furry spiders
Sitting in the eave,
Each one spinning
Their web to weave.
The first spider wove
A web quite grand,
Proud of the strength
In every strand.
The second spider, too,
Spun a glorious cob;
Not a single flaw
In all the job.
Stronger than cable,
Lighter than air,
Two fine lattices
Dancing in the air.
A fly buzzed in
And managed to get
Stuck at the point where
The two webs met.
Two spiders skitter
To the very same place
And stand there
Staring face to face,
Neither one willing
To back away
And let their rival
Claim the prey –
Yet neither one willing
To take first bite
And risk provoking
The other to fight.
The fly looked at both
With his segmented eyes
And wondered if the
Spiders would compromise.
Said he “If I’m not soon
Bitten and bound,
I’ll die and I’ll rot
And I’ll fall to the ground.”
But the spiders just stared
At what they both had.
It seemed they would both
Just let it go bad
Rather than offer
Their neighbour a share;
As far as I know,
They are still standing there

© Darryn Roberts 2003

Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: