Paul Warren Poems

How do you convey what you feel?
To craft the words and make it so real
What do they think when reading it through?
Will it give them something over to chew?
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Just out of town we saw an old Commer van
Being driven by a scraggy unshaven older man
Written across the side in hand written prose
"Outback Handyman - anything goes"
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How do I start a movement for good?
I’m sick of the death and destruction that should
Not have happened in this world today
How can a man gun down people like that - in blood to say
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How long ago was it I was thinking out loud
The first that I remember growing up so proud
A rainy morning holding Auntie Carrie’s hand
Whilst eating my first pie didn’t make me a fan
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Occam was a friar who decided that in problem-solving
One principle he was thinking and quietly evolving
It seemed to him when deciding a problem with two solutions
The one with the clearest option with fewer assumptions
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It was 1943 and the war was waging on
In Australia there was no victory song
The Japanese on our doorstep the young men volunteered
In my grand-parent's street the families for them feared
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What is there left but to put down my gun?
To know that my duty has been finally done
The uniform on me shows an older man's figure
My last posting shows that I had some rigour
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“Alea iacta est”
Or does it mean lest
Once you have looked at it
It will be right and it will fit
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You find nothing new in that
It’s all falling kind of flat
You have seen it all before
And have always wanted more
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We were tasked to attend one day
For a man chopping furniture away
He had done the dining room and chairs
And started on the lounge room furniture there
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