Why Didn’t Our Politicians Gruntle Us This Year?

Des Pensable copyright 2016

I’ve had a sad and unhappy time this year

When I should have been all gruntled with cheer

You see it all started quite well

Our politicians had decided to gruntle us, that’s fine

They had signed the climate agreement in Paris

Then returned and approved the Adani coal mine.

I wasn’t gruntled at all,  in fact I was angry

Disappointed, annoyed, cross and irate.

 

Next the government  kicked out their leader

As his approval polls had dropped too low

Abbot wasn’t gruntling many people so

They chose another idiot, a banker to the core

The one that ruined our Internet who

wants to tax the pensioners and the poor.

I wasn’t gruntled at all, in fact I was displeased

Exasperated, Irked, piqued and dissatisfied

 

Then we had new elections and promises galore

They promised jobs to gruntle the unemployed

and  gruntle  the corporations that paid no tax at all

They promised a gruntling budget and warned us

Not to vote for Independents, Labor or the  Greens

I tried to vote them out but failed.

I wasn’t gruntled at all, In fact I was displeased

Fed up, vexed, miffed, riled and pissed off.

 

Finally we had the gruntling spectacle

of the US empire elections in all their glory

We were not gruntled when misinformation,

Media lies and election fraud was the main story

A pathetic choice between Clinton the war hawk

Or Trump the heroic climate change denier.

I wasn’t gruntled at all when Trump won, in fact

I was thoroughly disgruntled with all politics this year.

 

Notes-

The verb disgruntle, which has been around since 1682, means “to make ill-humored or discontented.”  .” In the 1920s, a writer humorously used gruntle to mean “to make happy”—in other words, as an antonym of disgruntle. The use caught on although it isn’t used very often.

This poem refers to the elections in the year 2016. Australia’s most unpopular prime minister Abbot was kicked out and replaced by Turnbull who was marginally more popular.  The US elections were a dark carnival of farce where the choice was between two psychopaths both intent on world destruction.

see also A Global Warming Denier US President – How Did It Get To This?

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No Not In MY Backyard

fracking kill wildlife

A new environmental poem…. (slightly modified from when first published).

by Des Pensable (c) 2016

My  neighbor has a flash car and boat and is an important commercial banker,

He likes to flaunt his wealth, his pedigreed dog and is a bit of a loud mouthed wanker,

He’s only concerned about the stock exchange and how it’s continually changing,

He said the market is down and Aussie debt was up and it really needs rearranging,

He said the yanks are making fortunes from fracking, a type of unconventional gas mining,

We could do it all over Australia if the farmers and greenies would just stop whining,

He said … but I don’t want it my backyard mate, no not in my backyard

 

The mining company director was really happy, he’d secured another good deal.

The foreign shareholders would all agree to the payment of his bonuses with great zeal.

He wanted to build hundreds of coal seam gas mines in the middle of prime agricultural land.

He was going to flood the world with gas if the prices stayed as high as planned.

He wasn’t worried about the water needed, there was plenty deep underground.

He’d paid all the pollies quite well, but he was worried about greenies hanging around.

He thought … I don’t want them in my backyard mate, no not in my backyard.

 

The Pilliga farmer was unhappy, he’s just found out what the local council had planned,

They had agreed to a coal seam gas mining lease on the block adjacent to his land.

In panic he went to see his local MP, a fine country bred National party man.

His MP said there’s money to be made, we need to build CSG mines as fast as we can.

With Global Warming coming, there’ll be drought and your farm’s as good as dead.

I can’t help you at all, I’ve quit farming and welcomed the miners to my land instead

The farmer replied..but I don’t want them in my backyard mate, no not in my backyard.

 

The farmer studied up on coal seam gas mining and it soon became crystal clear,

It would pollute the underground water and poison the air for animals and people living near,

It would ruin the farming land for generations and speed up Global Warming as well,

It was invented by foreign investors for profit but makes the environment as toxic as Hell.

The farmer cried for help, the farm unions were deaf but the greenies heard of his plight

They rallied the city slickers and tree huggers; thousands came to help him fight

This is our farming land … we don’t want gas mining in our backyard mate, no not in our backyard.

 

The moral of this story is quite clear, when you see a greenie give him or her a hug and smile

Say thanks for your help in caring for our great land; I couldn’t understand you for a while

Now I realize your intentions were pure, I listened to the pollies and got the message wrong,

Those political bastards have sold us all out, there will be nothing left before long

Aussies all over this great land are all in the same boat, we must unite while we can,

We need to vote out all the corrupt pollies and create a national gas mining ban.

Australia is our backyard and we don’t want it in our back yard mate, no not in our back yard.

 

I think I’ll come out and join you protesting. I hope your pub hasn’t run out of beer.   I might even vote Greens next election. What about you?

You might also like Dodgy Dick the Fracking Engineer

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The Plight of the Mighty Hawkesbury River

A poem about a mighty River called the Hawkesbury that defines the northern boundary of the sprawling metropolis of Sydney, Australia.

Postmans-Run-Hawkesbury-River

photo- Sunset on the Hawkesbury. Image from www.hawkesbury.com

 

The Plight of the Mighty Hawkesbury River

Copyright Des Pensable 2015

I was born near a mighty river, a panorama of life, strength and awe.

Flowing majestically through time, Nature’s powerhouse and nursery

for yabbies and mussels, eels and fish, shags and pelicans galore.

In the dawn it was a sleepy golden serpent stretched across the land.

At midday, a busy highway for a myriad of small craft weaving white wakes.

In the evenings, a dark and mysterious, sinuous, silver moonlit brand.

My earliest memories were of excitement, laughter, joy and fun,

of diving and swimming, canoeing and fishing, in the cool swirling eddies

of that generous host of small green islands basking lazily in the sun.

Later in my youth I took my first love up to the birthplace of the stream.

We picnicked and skinny dipped, laughed and made love on the bank.

Its essence was fresh and healthy; my memories, a beautiful dream.

I ventured to Sydney to find work; we needed money they said to live.

An eternal rat race, a soul sapping drab endless fight for a gulp of fresh air,

I yearned for the inner peace that only my beautiful river could give.

I journeyed back in time to where my memories happily lived as a child,

to replenish that spirit of life that nature’s magic wand freely recharges.

What I saw shocked me to the core and left my mind uneasy and wild.

Oh my Hawkesbury! What have they done to your majestic metallic sheen?

You lay there ill and bloated with effluent from the city’s bowels and sewers,

tainted with slime and weed; pitiful, ailing and weak; now fetid and green.

We were charged to share; to be stewards and protectors of the land’s health.

Why do we toil for idiot goals, value printed paper, call companies people?

Why do we loot, pollute and scoot from our responsibilities for illusory wealth?

Why do we hide behind locked doors, mindlessly ignoring the growing blight?

It’s time to escape, to grow up, to renew our timeless contract with Nature.

It’s time to transform from zombie barbarians to caring eco warriors with might.

It’s time to balance the books with the land; the Hawkesbury’s not a drain!

It’s time to say no to profit before Nature and only the bottom line counts.

Let’s unite and fight to fix the Hawkesbury so it’s healthy and proud again.

hawkesbury3

photo courtesy of the NSW Dept Natural Resources

Check out more on the Hawkesbury river story below.

The Australian Traveller – The Hawkesbury 

Everything commercial you wanted to know

Using the River as a toilet

What the local government is saying it’s doing

How You Can Help