The Poetry of Brian Langley

Several Short Poems from all books
and some not in any at all

Nautical Nonsense

A collection of short poems with a nautical theme

 The ocean is made
of blue lemonade,
Salty, so people won't scoff it.
But if it were sweeter
You'd not find a litre.
'Twould all have been sold for a profit.


Fiddle sharks come out to play
Just as night time turns to day.
They fiddle for an hour or so
Then pack there bows and off they go.


There are mountain peaks beneath the sea.
And in them, many caves.
And that's where hermit crabs abide,
Beneath the ocean waves.


A damsel fish is very poor.
She only has one dress.
She takes it off on laundry days
And is a damsel in distress.


There's lots of whales that live out there.
Whales aren't fish, 'cos they breathe air.
They're very big and very strong
And many of them sing a song
As they swim off to polar climes.
I wonder, Do they make up rhymes?

© B.Langley. Feb 10th 2002

Eight Lines is enough to tell a story - 4 single verse poems

Picking Blackberries


 I went out seeking solitude, I stood there on the sand
And so I didn’t look a fool, had fishing rod in hand;
Well somehow, even though I had, a hook that was quite bare,
A largish fish got on my line, I couldn’t leave it there.
It caused my rod to thrash about and so I wound it in,
I’ve no idea what it was, quite long and rather thin;
And people came to see that fish - my solitude was blown;
I put it back into the sea; once more, I was alone.

 ©  Brian Langley  31 Dec 2008

 I Wonder Why?

 I wonder why we don’t catch many fish here anymore?
We used to catch a lot of fish, and big ones by the score;
And pan sized ones, a huge amount, each year we’d get a ton.
We’d fill the freezer truck right up, was heaps for every one;
We’d sell the ones we didn’t want, down at the local pub;
It paid for fuel and camping fees and almost all our grub.
But things have changed, and nowadays, the fishing’s got quite poor.
I wonder why we don’t catch many fish here anymore?

 © Brian Langley    11 Jan 2009

 Spending Their Inheritance



Mobile Phones

 A few ditties relating to that most unnecessary appendage to to the modern person's ear


I left my mobile phone at home      
Whatever will I do?
I’ve got no one to talk to -
Can I please talk to you?

These days throughout Australia
Many other countries too
Each person has a mobile phone
But just remember who
It was, who was the very first
Who started this from new
Maxwell Smart, we all salute you
and your phone inside your shoe.

I see them in the shopping malls
I see them on the train
I see them sitting on the beach
Or walking in the rain
People chatting to themselves
Or so it would appear
A few years back, I might have thought
That they were rather queer
But nowadays, I just assume
Though they are quite alone
That somewhere, someone’s listening
Cos they’re talking on the phone

© Brian Langley   August 2007

On Getting Older  -  a kids view

4 short verses



 Granddad’s given in to gravity,

There’s no way he could win.

His chest’s dropped to his belly

And his hair’s down on his chin.



 Grandma’s Teeth

 Grandma’s teeth, they sometimes rattle

And flop around a bit

They must be getting smaller

Cos they do not seem to fit

But I think she’s found the answer

To make them big and strong

She puts them in some water

So they’ll grow the whole night long



Hearing Aid

 Uncle Fred has got a hearing aid

It’s stuck inside his ear

The other day he dropped it

And it fell into his beer

Well now he says it doesn’t work

Not e’re a squeak or ping

So I can say some naughty words

And he wont hear a thing



New Directions

Each night when I go, somehow I just know

Very soon I'll hear wifey complainin'

That again on the floor I've made puddles galore

Because I don't look where I'm aimin'

But I do try me best - It's just that I'm blessed

With a belly that's large and protrudin'

So I really can't see at what angle I pee

And direction can be quite deludin'

So I'm changin' me style,  It might take me a whils

If I lapse, then I hope she will pardon

But from now, in the night and in dawn's early light

If it's fine I'll go pee in the garden.



Some Little Crafty Ditties

 For an hour after lunch
With a hammer and punch
I make patterns in wallets and belts
There’s circles and curls
And squiggles and swirls
And knots first designed by the Celts

For many an hour each day
I make beads out of polymer clay
There’s red and there’s blue
And there’s yellow ones too
But the mixtures, they all turn out grey

For hours and hours I sit
And with yarn and with needles I knit
Each sweater and glove
Is constructed with love
I just hope the bloody things fit


I’d like to make bowls out of wood
It’s a hobby I think would be good
I’d like to be learning
The skills used in turning
If I had but a lathe, then I could


Out in the Bush
  4 Short Poems about leaving the city behind

Why would you stir your cup of tea
With a stick, from a Jarrah tree
There’s just one answer comes to mind
The teaspoon  -  it got left behind

We lit a fire and made our tea
Me old mate Dinkum Dan and me
A most expensive drink it was
Five hundred bucks, and just because
We didn’t know it was a crime
Lighting fires in summertime

We laid our blanket on the ground
Food in the middle, we sat round
And chatted, telling tales and jokes
‘bout footy, sheilas, cars and blokes
The water it looked clean and cool
A lovely little rocky pool
We swam a while, and splashed about
And later on we all got out
And went to eat our picnic fare
But we could see as we got there
There’d be no food for us to munch
A million ants were in our lunch


We walked along the river bank
The boggy bits, My God! They stank
The midges were as thick as flies
Up your nose and in your eyes
The grass was up above our knees
Clover burrs and double Gs
The sun beat down, and made us sweat
And then it rained and we got wet
And cold and miserable as well
I think by now you sure can tell
That if someone suggests we roam

Then we’ll say no – and stay at home

© Brian Langley   July 6 2007

And Some Miscellaneous Muses

Brussel Sprouts

I do not care for Brussel Sprouts
They make my appetite abate
Each time I see those nasty things
Before me on my plate

Now give me carrots, peas or corn
I find them all so yummy
But there is no way that I will put
Those sprout things in my tummy

New Bathers

I bought some new bathers in Chisenham
Went down to the ocean to christen 'em
I looked all about
But the tide was right out
So all I could do was just Piss in 'em


The Pimple

The other day when I arose
I found a pimple on my nose
It made my nose look red and sore  -
I hope I don’t get any more

Lost Lines

I tried to write a poem today
But rhyme and rhythm stayed away
I hope they come another day


 In early 2009 a Ferris wheel was erected on the Perth foreshore.  In my opinion it does nothing to enhance the view

 To a Ferris Wheel

 Oh circular structure
There on the foreshore,
What is your purpose?
What are you there for?
Will you bring pleasure
To folk by the score?
Or maybe, you’re there
To be just an eye-sore.

© Brian Langley      March 2009


 It’s a parent’s biggest nightmare,
They live it every day;
When teenage kids are growing up.
It’s not that they’ll be gay
Or that they’ll take up booze or drugs,
It’s not to do with sex;
Though all of these can help to make
Their parents nervous wrecks.
The nightmare that wont go away,
The one all parents dread,
Is that one night a cop will call
To say their kid is dead.


Christmas in Australia

 At Christmas time most cards we get
Show winter scenes and snow
Which isn’t quite the scenery
That we in Aussie know

For here in the antipodes
Snow isn’t what we’ve got
For usually at Christmas time
It’s stinkin’ bloody hot.

 © Brian Langley  24 Dec 2006

The Pimple

 The other day when I arose
I found a pimple on my nose
It made my nose look red and sore
I hope I don't get any more


Swine Flu

 Now pigs (or swine), they get the flu
Just like people often do.
But lately, when folk get the sneezes
Perhaps, they think— Porcine diseases?
But if a pig should cough and wheeze
Does it think “Oops—Hu-man disease”
And being quite concerned and wary
Go racing to a veteran-ary?

 A quickie from Brian Langley  24 Nov 2009

The Backyard Rule

In our backyard, we’ve got a rule.
There’ll be no peeing in the pool.
So when I’m asked if I can spell
I say, Yeah, Pool’s spelt O – O – L.
That isn’t right, folks say to me,
You know that pool starts with a P
Not here in my backyard, I say,
We do things in a different way.
We keep the water blue and clean,
No yellow bits to turn it green.
So on hot days, to get us cool,
We jump into our backyard ool.

© Brian Langley  Jan 16 2006


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