The Bogan Poet

The Bogan Poet New Zealand Author and Poet. A place for Rhyme, Reason and Creative Season. Instagram and Tiktok.

29/05/2026

Mind the sound quality sorry but I did an OpenMic Poetry night at Porridge Watson lastnight and managed to get myself up on stage. I practiced the one poem all day, even reciting as I did the regular Grocery shop but still had a complete mind blank as soon as I got on stage...but with the retrieval of my notebook and the forgiveness of a fantastic crowd, I managed to spill "Ode to JobSeeker" pretty confidentily as my first ever public poem reading. I can't thank everyone there enough and I will definitly be coming back next time...hopefully better prepared haha

"Ode to JobSeeker"By TheBoganPoetF**k I am broke,my Winz leash does choke,my pockets are shallow and bare.I Guess I’ll s...
23/05/2026

"Ode to JobSeeker"
By TheBoganPoet

F**k I am broke,
my Winz leash does choke,
my pockets are shallow and bare.
I Guess I’ll spend time,
in development line,
hoping for a job that is fair.

A Golden arched Chef
or bag bitch in dread,
O’ the ladders we climb.
At the end of the week,
my pay-checks still meek,
taxing a dollar per dime.

Now work becomes life,
your burden, your strife,
your children will grow up alone.
They’ll call Teacher “mum”
and turn twenty one,
still sucking their thumb to the bone.

How ‘bout instead,
we all share the bread,
enjoying an equal slice.
I sound like a co**ie,
but work should be hobby,
prioritise the family and life.

So now for today,
my choking leash will stay,
and I’ll dig my hands ever deeper.
I’ll go back in line,
cause starving’s my crime
O’ this ode to JobSeeker

23/04/2026

Read aloud poem, "Masks of Morning Madness" by The Bogan Poet ft the authors youngest daughter

Realised I hadn't even posted "Slipping Stepes" here on Facebook yet, so here is the original poem before the canvas. Sl...
22/04/2026

Realised I hadn't even posted "Slipping Stepes" here on Facebook yet, so here is the original poem before the canvas.

Slipping Stepes of Society
TheBoganPoet

The Twit Tunes their Tweet,
X-ing the ‘O’ on the screen.
Leaving a Stinking Musk,
On the Social Mind F**k,
That we Call our Cultural Scene.

Observe the Filthy Mark,
Our Faces Sorrowfully Scarred,
Left from the Words on Walled Pages,
On Books for all Ages.
Our Attentions Metabolized Fast.

As we Suffer this Drone,
That Spews from our Phones,
The Disease takes what it needs.
Our Precious Due Time,
Snapping our Moral Decline,
Instantly Tiking its Feed.

Hand painted canvas done of the poem "Slipping Stepes of Society" by TheBoganPoet.I had a couple different ideas for thi...
21/04/2026

Hand painted canvas done of the poem "Slipping Stepes of Society" by TheBoganPoet.
I had a couple different ideas for this canvas but this poem just wanted to be on that black background and I can't agree more. The sporadic-ness of the handwriting and placement really adds to the "mental mind fuxk" of our society. I am planning to do more paintings just finding the right words for the right canvas can be tricky.

Thank you for looking

Been a hell of a crazy start to 2026 but the writing buzz has never left, more like bottled and shaken, waiting to pop. ...
18/04/2026

Been a hell of a crazy start to 2026 but the writing buzz has never left, more like bottled and shaken, waiting to pop. With plenty of inspiration on the topics most affecting us, I'd thought I'd start with a more light-hearted one...I mean cancer, family dramas, societal/political issues and war are quite heavy...so does anyone else struggle with toddlers and night time routines too??

Seddlings Seldom Sleep
By TheBoganPoet

Awoken at night,
Disturbed by the cry,
Of a Seed struggling to sleep.
Beaming bright eyes,
Gleam the streetlights,
As the Sprout is still in its Spring.

Kicking away,
Its layers in fray,
Their bellies let out a roar.
Empty little tummies,
Starved by the dummy,
Expecting bottles to fall.

Humming sweet tunes,
That mimic the blues,
Babbling, the Bud rocks away.
Drunk and well fed,
Craving the bed,
The Seed lies stirring, awake.

Now sleep little one,
Your Parents have sung,
The songs they sing from the deep.
Embrace the night sky,
Where your dreams do fly,
And our angels seldom do weep.

Been a long time coming with alot of drafts but I almost have a printable copy of my first Children's Book titled: "Chum...
03/01/2026

Been a long time coming with alot of drafts but I almost have a printable copy of my first Children's Book titled: "Chum, Bums and Captain Lum."

Origanal story and illustrations done by me, J.A.Whittaker (or TheBoganPoet).
Our story follows Captain Lum Tum and his adventures into the sea. With his crazy ideas the Captain sure makes a "mark"

More updates to come 💚

Origanal poem about the crazy mornings and the crazy kids that come along with those mornings 💚"Masks of Mornings Madnes...
03/01/2026

Origanal poem about the crazy mornings and the crazy kids that come along with those mornings 💚

"Masks of Mornings Madness"

By TheBoganPoet

Gathered round the morning table
Family wakes to tell there fables
Dreams that sing
And plans to bring
Circles our mother darling

Sun it shines
Through rented blinds
On a chair soaked in goop.
Mess comes fair
Through young ones hair
With toast turned to soup.

Milk and toast
Fill our throats
As the morning fills our eyes.
Laughter and jokes
Surely boast
Our blessing in disguise.

Crowned Deafened EarsPoem by TheBoganPoetFrom the depths of our lungs,Voices screaming and flung,On ears that ignore and...
13/12/2025

Crowned Deafened Ears
Poem by TheBoganPoet

From the depths of our lungs,
Voices screaming and flung,
On ears that ignore and insult.
With the rules that they penned,
To enslave us till when?
A land that’s rising in cost.

They hide in their Hive,
Stripping mankind,
Hoarding much more than they need.
As Goblins they are,
Bleeding home-heart,
Drowning us all in their greed.

Yet they still stand,
Picked by our hand,
The power they will not release.
Until we can strip,
Rich from the whip,
Their words will not be believed.

United in front,
And silence in lung,
Our actions will talk more free.
Stop the wallet rise,
Of these power-hungry lies,
And truth will become the decree.

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