Australian poet, Dorothea Mackellar, wrote the poem "My Country".
It is something of an Australian icon and most Australians know a bit of it,
especially the line that reads "I love a sunburnt country".
This Australia Day, it seemed to me to be in need of modernizing.
My Barbie
The love of stew and couscous
Of rice and sushi-ed fish;
Or orange sauce with duckling
May be your favourite dish.
Strong love of stir-fried chicken
Noodles or gourmet pies -
I know but cannot share it
My love is otherwise.
I love a gas-fired barbie
With tongs and forks and things,
To carbonise some lamb chops
Or steaks and onion rings.
I love her cast iron hot-plate
I love her spacious grill,
For family or for parties,
My barbie fits the bill.
Standing tall with manly pride,
(Clutching a beer, of course)
You char-grill anything that walks
Then top it off with sauce.
It doesn't matter what you cook,
Snags or chops or game,
Dose them well with tomato sauce
And they all will taste the same.
Core of my heart, my barbie!
She shows that I'm a man
Who can do his share of housework,
Drinking lager from a can.
When the little woman's fuming
At the mess around the bath,
I can stick my manly chest out
And boast I do my half.
Core of my heart, my barbie!
I polish you like gold
The centre of my manhood
To cherish and to hold.
Under the plastic awning
Beside the wheelie bin
You are my pride and joy,
I gaze at you and grin.
A twelve ring gas fired barbie
Is a vision truly grand! -
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
A kitchen holds many splendours,
With rice cookers and woks
But I know my gas-fired barbie
Can incinerate an ox.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---
Print this post
It is something of an Australian icon and most Australians know a bit of it,
especially the line that reads "I love a sunburnt country".
This Australia Day, it seemed to me to be in need of modernizing.
My Barbie
The love of stew and couscous
Of rice and sushi-ed fish;
Or orange sauce with duckling
May be your favourite dish.
Strong love of stir-fried chicken
Noodles or gourmet pies -
I know but cannot share it
My love is otherwise.
I love a gas-fired barbie
With tongs and forks and things,
To carbonise some lamb chops
Or steaks and onion rings.
I love her cast iron hot-plate
I love her spacious grill,
For family or for parties,
My barbie fits the bill.
Standing tall with manly pride,
(Clutching a beer, of course)
You char-grill anything that walks
Then top it off with sauce.
It doesn't matter what you cook,
Snags or chops or game,
Dose them well with tomato sauce
And they all will taste the same.
Core of my heart, my barbie!
She shows that I'm a man
Who can do his share of housework,
Drinking lager from a can.
When the little woman's fuming
At the mess around the bath,
I can stick my manly chest out
And boast I do my half.
Core of my heart, my barbie!
I polish you like gold
The centre of my manhood
To cherish and to hold.
Under the plastic awning
Beside the wheelie bin
You are my pride and joy,
I gaze at you and grin.
A twelve ring gas fired barbie
Is a vision truly grand! -
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
A kitchen holds many splendours,
With rice cookers and woks
But I know my gas-fired barbie
Can incinerate an ox.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---
ha...very clever.
ReplyDeleteMy American brain made me think you were talking about a Barbie doll. After a couple of lines it hit me so I went back to the beginning.
d:-)
Time for a barbie? I'll bring some wine...
ReplyDeleteLove it dear J Cosmo ... Happy Australia day, I hope you had fun with your barbie today. xo ♡
ReplyDeleteBless you for sticking your manly chest out and bringing tears [of mirth, of course!] to my eyes!
ReplyDeleteamen brother
ReplyDeleteslather on a bit more sauce over there on that rib in the corner
Oh goodness -this is funny!
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your manly barbie! ;-)
Very drole. "Incinerate an ox"... that's a good one. Can almost picture you, beer in hand, slathering on the sauce. Do you wear your beige sweater or something snazzier when grilling?
ReplyDeleteSo...it's ox is it?
ReplyDeleteWhat wine with ox?
late harvest zinfandel,
sweet even from a box.
Let's remember to
shed off that leather'n'fur
and not forget when we
forgot to rid the innards that year.
(Uncle Joe thought it
a really grand stuffing then.
He got so very sick finding out
guess he won't be back, y'reckon?)
Well have a good chow
and remember the cooking trends
But most of all,
enjoy being with your friends!
your barbie is way hotter than our barbie!
ReplyDeleteand still at the poetry, my good man! im impressed, each visit. continue on!
oh man haha many kudos for this one! very clever!
ReplyDeletepeace!
heheheheheheh
ReplyDeleteenjoy that barbie! Its way too cold for that here in Philadelphia... no matter how deep the love.
Cheers!
This is fantastic!! :)
ReplyDeleteAnd now I'm hungry.
i'm quite partial to bbq. next time you see some strange woman with a foamy beer lurking about your premises it might be me ..
ReplyDeleteOh, this was great. I feel the same way and so miss my barbie in the winter months.
ReplyDeleteSir, faithfully have I cherished an opinion of myself, long and dearly held, as peerless and unrivaled in the realm of Manly Belles Lettres.
ReplyDeleteI confess that if I do not quite waxen at your Ringing Words, then I blanch; if I do not quite blanch, then I grow pale; if not pale then pallid, and with perspiration although not Profuse.
Should you choose to enter this or some other Masterwork in the Competition that I have recently announced upon my blog then my bluff is called. Perforce I shall enter something of truly Towering literary proportions and with equally vast Implications for the Human Spirit.
No Mere Marshmallow Toaster Either,
Sir Percy Bisque Silley (Knighted)