They had all come before Captain cook,
Hartog, Dampier, Vlamingh and Nuyts,
To the north, west and parts of the south,
But no one dared set their roots.

Too barren and too desolate they wrote,
And the vegetation is stunted,
Not quite the land for a utopia,
Upon which their motherlands had punted.

The inhabitants are wild and primitve,
Communication way too hard,
So no explorer settled the land then,
And the aborigines stole a yard.

Cook set east where the land was fertile,
And pure liquid gold was water,
He took possession of New South Wales,
Now mother England had daughter.

A convict settlement was first built,
At a place they called Port Jackson,
Where this nation would begin it’s roots,
And the prisoners sought salvation.

Paolo copyright 1980

I had to make a decision,
And really show no fear,
So while I stood there thinking,
I had another beer,

Suddenly, then it hit me,
A huge brainwave I could tell,
Gotta’ get a job in a brewery,
And taste success as well.

My first week was a ripper,
Job training every day,
Tasting all the different beers,
This is heaven I would say.

With my training lessons over,
I reckon now I’m made,
Free beer for everyday I work,
And I’m even gettin’ paid.

Now you’d never guess whats happened,
They’ve given me the flick,
Said, since I started workin there,
Their profits have been sick.

Unfair dismissal, I claimed by law,
And the judge said that was true,
He made them pay me a million,
Now I own a brewery too.

Paolo copyright 1972

What say siblings my love’s made of truth
That’s for remembrance of youth
That thereby our love might never die
You know tomorrow could easily be goodbye
Rough justice and love unfitting doth matter not
Blow am I the one envious of this plot
My best love was as a sibling as a friend
Thou cans’t not surely let families come to an end
Fume all of you I have wrath of mother
Damned if I will forgive that she loved another
Littlest doubts are gigantic fears for me
And oft I wonder would Old Joe agree
Thou art all less temperate it seems
Warlike tis an humourless dream
That should acompany each of you to old age
Alas tis’ destiny will any of you turn the page
Too short is thou lease of life
Age’s breath is short then sickness and strife
Would thou not comprehend easier fickle existence
Thou art not conquer’d lest we merit least resistance

Paolo copyright 2003

You can’t always plan,
How the future turns out,
But you take what you get,
You make your own route.

The most important opinion,
Will always be your own,
It follows you through thick and thin,
And wherever you should roam.

Your memory of events in life,
Are not in your control,
They’re snapshot of circumstance,
Part of your inner soul.

To substitute thoughts of hatred,
When the simple truth would do,
Is how I stand accused today,
From siblings sad and blue.

Great barriers of time and distance,
Bisect our points of view,
But I am a man of dogged resolve,
Which for you would never do.

So hate me not for what I say,
Nor for all the things I feel,
Hate me because I hurt you,
Then I will know that you are real.

Love dost’ bother me on this Xmas day,
Forthcoming I think not, not a card or a letter,
Thou hast’ celebrated with thy very self,
No family interaction, no calls, no thoughts of well being.

Move over hatred, thy complacency of family true,
No longer important to the heart,
Yet be there when on thy love stage,
And only the once in a while ear for thoust.

Sail into thine madness of Paolo’s grief,
Years of splendid rambling and things,
Speaketh the truth old man sure,
Xmas, New Year, same as any day afore!

Oh! Great defenders from our far north,
I’ve heard the toads are through,
I’m sorry, sad and disheartened,
They’ve made it to Kakadu.

Queensland couldn’t contain them,
New South Wales didn’t care,
But I really thought the Territory,
Was more environmentally aware.

Please bang your drum ever so loud,
And let the politicians know,
The rest of the world is watching,
Wondering, why they act so slow.

Paolo copyright 2002

Brothers are we not,
Peter, Paul and Dazza,
Whatsoever the great ones,
I have spoke it.

Phillip shall fall like Caesar,
Thou mis-taken lad,
For good youth, he went,
Tis, nobler, good marriage and glad.

And all the men of Joseph,
Ratbags all, a blessed plot,
Bohemia, sad stories,
But, regret not, we are a band of brothers.

Speak again oh! David,
Robert never did run smooth,
Victim of fate old Bro,
But yonder window opens.

Why would’st thou not?
Be it affairs of us men,
Form a band of brothers,
And start thy lives again.

Michael, oh! Michael, we calleth,
What doth your silence bring?
Fix’d thy band of brothers,
I bid thee do sing.

Sleep no more thy brothers,
Nor congratulate old age,
A Brother has gone missing,
Missing chapter and a page.

Michael shall live this day,
Free from all the others,
Is it not in his stars?
To join his band of Brothers.

A’Fore the disappointment,
Grief yielded not a brother,
Joy unto Robert Milton,
Enigma, shower’ thee mother.

Vietnam Veteran an enemy of truth,
Cans’t not hide a heart that’s down,
Big brother title usurped,
Move forward Robert Milton, take thy crown.

Fortress on thy Mudgeerabah hill,
What, the enemy cover blown,
No doubt be it a skilled author,
As Robert Milton has shown.

And God give thee a chance,
To judge more skilled than he,
That Paolo, Robert Milton and Michael,
Are not the brothers three.

Revel in Elizabeth’s love,
Shy not from her need,
As age ply’s it’s generosity,
Older Siblings forgive, others simply bleed.

Cast aside our bleeding hearts,
Sweet loves’ and foreign belief,
To teach such ill, saddens me,
Like mother you spread thy’ grief.

So brick up the glasshouse,
And defend the Northern hill,
Paolo, Robert Milton and Michael,
Are a band of brothers still.

Paolo
Copyright 2002