The Poetry Section

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yeah mate...I'm thinking the same! :rolleyes: I've been downloading them to google docs with a view to publishing them and my short stories. The computer you kindly gave me died :mad: :mad: Apparently the disc got corrupted somehow and windows would not respond :8 ...so I had to get a new one....which meant I lost a lot of stuff....yeah I know...that's why you 'backup' stuff.Been on a bit of a downer generally speaking....the missus has refused to finance any further trips...and I can't blame her for that...the battery in the van won't charge and is therefore stuffed now I think...so I had a few bucks I;d saved and went to Mudgee and bought a 15" inch coil for the 705! :cool: Man that thing hums now...so its just along the beach nowadays...and that bores the bejesus out of me after awhile...and so I get a little depressed and that is not good for anything inspirational to occur...I've been relying on your 'friday night quiz' for a bit of fun...but it's like ...friday too far away! I am really keen to go to Sofala for the meeting...as I HAVE MADE A GOOD CONTACT up the road at Wattle flat...on a former open cut mine! :cool: :inlove: :Y: ..but alas I can't see me getting there. But anyway mate you never know what lies around the corner :cool:
 
Our better's our best.
I tell you its true
walking the beach an feeling blue
instead of feeling the walking
or seeing the blue
finding the treasure
and digging it too.
One can be oh soo up
yet feel oh soo down
swimming in thought
till the mind near drowns
And oh the calamity
like wheels falling off
when the wretched computer
$hts and goes PooF....
yes, yes, and we lose all our stuff
and the worlds never been such...
a tragedy place
loss of thought, and of time
stuff we can't just replace
but we lean when we can
and we pick up our pace
as our mates gather round
in our mind, or on ground
and we can so we've found
rise so new and refreshed
cause it's nothing thats new
just one more bl00dy test
we can rebuild anew it
yes we'll never rest
till our best is yet better
and our better's our best.
Silver
29-09-2019
 
Well done silver!....and I take your point! :Y: :playful: :cool: I'm ok...just a bit rattled with things...like a lot of people with Bi-Polar, I like to think I have things under control and running smoothly...I don't handle change very well...and as I get older things change , WAY TO QUICKLY!...FOR THIS LITTLE DUCK! :p ...i have recovered almost all of the research I had accumulated for the 'Big Bob O'Halloran Saga'...so that's a bit of an unexpected bonus...thank god for 'google docs'... where I had saved stuff that popped-up as soon as I recovered my account! :cool: :cool: ...so thanks again mate.
 
I recite a dozen or so Aussie poems. Like to do it around the fire while out camping. I also use them to help me get to sleep. Stop the brain from turning over and keeping me awake. The classic Aussie humour stuff mostly.

Man from snowy river
Clancy
Mulga bill's bycicle
Scotty's wild stuff stew
The gebung polo club
A bush christening
Skew Wiff Kelly

etc etc.
Currently working on memorising Said Hanrahan.

Highly recommend Jack Thompson's reading of Aussie classics.

A few more modern poems I know are Australiana by Austentatious and a current favourite is Bill Kearns "Entrapment" The alternate title is "The terrifying but tragically true tale of Trevor's trapped testicle." Link below.
I will have a look at learning some from this thread. Thanks.

[video=480,360]https://youtu.be/ozinIE-E0wM[/video]
 
Good on you Ramjet! :Y: There's a lot to be said for a few poems well recited by a practised Bard :Y: :cool: I on the other hand...can not for the life of me, recite more than a line or two of all that I have written :eek: in the way of Poetry. In sometimes reading through a few of them I am often puzzled as to how what's there actually came from my brain-heart. Some of them embarrass me, some astound me and some lead me to tears...but none of them sticks in my addled brain :playful: I think the thing is with me is the formulation of an idea into a working verse...the writing and re-writing, seeing it develop and evolve from something in my mind to something of substance on paper that others can do with what they will. Some I know like just about anything I write, some I know have expressed my work as balderdash and suggest I need another hobby! :lol: and perhaps I do :eek: What they might not know is that for the main part, my sole intention is to evoke a reaction...be it good, bad or indifferent I make a connection with people in a unique and tangible way...and I like that.
 
The women of 54.
Now when we look back at our history and the troubles at Ballarat.
We often think of men down on one knee taking the oath bereft of a hat
Or Captain Thomass charge with his troopers at large all baying for some gore
But nought says much of the bravery as such of the women of 54.

They were present in their hundreds at the meetings held on Bakery Hill
Amid the mens burly shouts could be heard a feminine shrill
For behind the rough and ready form of a Joshua or Ted
Stood a woman in a long dress with a bonnet on her head.

And the Flag that flew so bravely above them all that day
And to which the oath they swore
Was made by the many loving hands
Of the women of 54

And as the men paraded round and manned the rough stockade
The women were there with a glass in there hands and a jar of lemonade
Twas they who did the cooking and kept things there in order
Twas they who stood beside their men when later came the slaughter.

And when the soldiers came at three in the morn and suddenly opened fire
Twas this cowardly act on the sabbath day that raised the womens ire
Elizabeth Wilson loaded the spare gun of her husband as he fired
And Bridget Hayes who rushed to the front to spur those men who tired.


And as the soldiers led her husband in chains she said to Lieutenant Richards
Leave off him you pack of bastards, do with me what you are inclined to do
For If Id been a man Id o made a sterner stand
And not been captured by a coward like you.


And when Peter Lalor was shot and was squirreled away
And they needed to cut off his arm
Alicia Dunne was the one who tended his wound
And concealed him from further harm.

And all the next day and for the next several months
It was the Ladies who came to the fore
And many lives were saved and an almighty debt owed
To the Women of 54....copyright 2019.Ross.L.Langlands.
 
Thanks Megsy!...Not enough said about how much women contributed to our current Democracy...though I fear they would turn in their graves in disgust at the way things are being done these days.
 
There's a wonderous beat to the sea

There's a wonderous beat to the sea
Say I hope it holds something to see
There's a pondorous beat to the sea
Oh I think I see something for me
There's a soulfulness beat to the sea
White capped then it's going to be
Theres a thunderous beat to the sea
Huge waves and foam deep to the knee
There's a tempestuous beat to the sea
Screaming wind stings my face like hot tea
There's a nauseous beat to the sea
NowI feel like it's coming for me
There's a raucous beat to the sea
The land now is no longer free
There's a numberless beat to the sea
Wild thrashing midst turmoil and tree
There's a rudderless beat to the sea
As it suck back to where it should be
There's a calmness befallen the sea
Where it rests yet with no sympathy.
Silver
3-10-2019
 
Betwix two oceans ever blue.
There lays a land of sunburnt hue
Has its moments green there too
Beaches built of golden sand
Time gone long in this fair land
Born out long from ice and fire
Screaming rocks hurled from quagmire
Torments filled the darkened sky
Intense pressured rocks born high
Then peace and calm as life extends
In many forms it shows no end.
Yet most was lost along the way
We're left now just with present day
Our yesterdays are gone like nothing
Two hands outreaching never touching
Shattered lives held in our hands
We pick and weave back broken strands
Now thinking fore our future too
Betwix two oceans ever blue
Silver
4-10-2019
 
Tworhi Tworhi

The storm birds calling Tworhi Tworhi
For us it is just early warning
To other birds it's Devil Calling
Sneaking cheat fast laying eggs
Spelling death and nothing less
before the summer rains.

Tworhi Tworhi the storm birds calling
mixed in with the birdcall sounds
they've slipped down from up north
racing fore the earths green call
that puffy cloud of Earths dear dew
We hear them call so hopeful too

In any ear a language clear Tworhi Tworhi Tworhi
Over mountain, hill or valley dale
That wondrous sound your ears assails
remembering clear it's telling you
Of dreams wrapped fresh in summers hue
Tworhi Tworhi Tworhi Tworhi

Silver
4-10-2019
 
I will have won.

I thought I'd sleep upon the floor
My wisdom bank upon to draw.
That back that groans and clicks and clacks
Should fix itself whilst I just sack.
But twist and twirl, roll and stretch
Was naught but pain that I did fetch,
So now my kidneys I feel two,
Chest and shoulders all strained too.
That painful movement as I roll
Behoves the price a heavy toll
From sleeping here upon the floor.
And now I must with guttural roar
Greet this day with come what may,
Force myself to rise to play
Upon that stage of life's demands
Bereft of hope for my own plans
Of pain free motioned symetry.
I know I'll get no sympathy
So up I'll get and be selective
As I reach for each objective,
Won't care of pain as each things done
For it's my day, I will have won.
Silver
12-10-2019
 
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