Mad Poets Society – Poems, Rhymes and Riddles

By The Bribie Islander - Local Newspaper & Blog

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1968
Poems. Riddles. Rhymes. Lyrics. Poets. Poetry

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MAD MAX CAMP

They are yellow blue green and red

With big wide tyres full of tread

Tents and swags eskys and bait

Driving down North Street to Woorim Beach access gate

The weekend warriors heading down the street

The noise of their 4×4 vehicles thundering and indiscreet

They have purchased a beach permit just for the day

Or maybe a week depends on their stay Sausages bread big mac and coke

You know it’s them by the rubbish and the smoke

They do not give a toss about the destruction they cause

Loss of the turtles marine life and birds

The bush and the beach do not get respite at any time of the year

There here every weekend and in top gear

Who is in control of this mayhem? Please let us know!

It is open all season no rules just a hell hole

The locals just reckon it is a crying shame

There are no rules just Mad Max blame

Years ago the beach permit was for a year

You had to be a resident to receive one my dear

So the land had a chance to recover from the mob

The turtles could nest and the trees could evolve

Before you know it the place will be crammed

With plastic bottles and old jerry cans

If all this money that is paid for the visit

Could be put back into the beach as we new it

Educate the people who come and stay

Control the environment or there will be a day

Where the top end of Woorim Beach will be a ghetto

It will be a Mad Max Camp can you hear the bellow

The people responsible you know who you are

Just explain to your children why the beach is in a jar

The ying and yang of this poem is clear

Money cannot replace everything that is here

There must be a balance where trees and birds live

So the weekend warriors can give

They call it downtime a space with no one visits

Birds and animals need no noise do not disturb is this explicit

Reproduce replenish go forth and multiply

Turtle season does not qualify

What nature provided for them to see?

Camping under the stars in that swag or tent

Sharing that experience with family nothing to vent

Coming away with a nurtured soul

Sitting by the camp fire when it turns cold

Laying in the sun swimming at the beach

Sausages on the BBQ cricket by the sea

Memories made on that special bush camp

Can someone out there hear this chant?

Take a big look at what we will loose

Animals plants an environmental tool

Can someone out there balance the books?

Look out world it will be gone for good

By Sharmayne Kurtz


SKY

It is white and grey with bits of blue

Soft and flat and nothing to view

No trees or grass just moisture and rain

Mist and swirls of a fairy like plain

They call it heaven and there is nowhere to go

It reminds me of the ice and of snow

But it is just vapour and wind you see

The plane is flying and we are free

So peaceful and serene and no maddening crowds

We are sitting here with our head in the clouds

Just a trip through this place

Soft and peaceful and full of grace.

By Sharmayne Kurtz

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Mad poets society – Poems, Rhymes and Riddles – August 2018


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