The Poetry Section

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Just how I know.
I look aloft and knowingly see
Herringbone clouds messaging me
Telling me softly it'll rain in three days
only if though all that moisture here stays.
Looking down at the ants I see verification
They've built up their turrets in anticipation
There's big lines of ants going up to the roof
They're carting up eggs, that's further proof
I feel so like taking shovel to soil
Digging and sowing a gardeners toil
So now there's no doubting
Just whooping and shouting
For rich man or poor
That rain's coming for sure.
Silver
162619062019
 
This is my favourite poem of all time.

"As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
Love has no ending.

Ill love you, dear, Ill love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

Ill love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
Tomorrow or today.

Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the divers brilliant bow.

O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what youve missed.

The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With all your crooked heart.

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on"
 
Here is a cracka.

Damn Coolgardie, damn the track
Damn it there and damn it back
Damn the country, damn the weather
Damn Coolgardie altogether

Apparently the old timers loved their poetry, I like the insight it brings us of the hardships they faced.
They definitely bred them tough
 
What Will I do
Only Blue adorns mine horizon
But engines assault on my brain
Trees in the breeze swaying gently around
While grass stands alone in a bitumous world
Bound by cement on both sides
Dappled shadows scratch at the ground
As Sunlight burns into my eyes
I wonder inside what this world will behold
When I'm withered and wrinkled, ancient, and old
Will shadows still scratch without eyes to behold
Will I do what I want, or just what I'm told
Silver
150021062019
 
"Time's a circumference
Whereof the segment of our station seems
A long straight line from nothing into naught.
Therefore we say " progress, " " infinity "
Dull words whose object
Hangs in the air of error and delights
Our boyish minds ahunt for butterflies.
For aspiration studies not the sky
But looks for stars; the victories of faith
Are soldiered none the less with certainties,
And all the multitudinous armies decked
With banners blown ahead and flute before
March not to the desert or th' Elysian fields,
But in the track of some discovery,
The grip and cognizance of something true,
Which won resolves a better distribution
Between the dreaming mind and real truth.

I cannot understand you.

'T is because
You lean over my meaning's edge and feel
A dizziness of the things I have not said"

- Trumbull Stickney
 
I love this.

The Coloured Digger Bert Beros

He came and joined the colours, when the War Gods anvil rang,
He took up modern weapons to replace his boomerang,
He waited for no call-up, he didnt need a push,
He came in from the stations, and the townships of the bush.

He helped when help was wanting, just because he wasnt deaf;
He is right amongst the columns of the fighting A.I.F.
He is always there when wanted, with his Owen gun or Bren,
He is in the forward area, the place where men are men.

He proved hes still a warrior, in action not afraid,
He faced the blasting red-hot fire from mortar and grenade;
He didnt mind when food was low, or we were getting thin,
He didnt growl or worry then, hed cheer us with his grin.

Hed heard us talk democracy; they preach it to his face
Yet knows that in our Federal House theres no one of his race.
He feels we push his kinsmen out, where cities do not reach,
And Parliament has yet to hear the Aborigines maiden speech.

One day hell leave the Army, then join the League he shall,
And he hopes well give a better deal to the Aboriginal.

(This poem, by (Sapper) Bert Beros a non-Aboriginal soldier in World War Two,
Was written about Private West one of his Aboriginal comrades)
 
Great stuff happening here...albeit not from me...I am at present at my fire in the central west with coverage on my phone...thank yuo fossicker ans Muza and all for keeping this post alive....great work....hope to gather enough material to be a ble to contribute further when i get home..having a whale of a time..
.despite only pulling a fragment of a copper jacket bullet :cool: for what i have been through ...thos is heaven
 
reefer said:
Great stuff happening here...albeit not from me...I am at present at my fire in the central west with coverage on my phone...thank yuo fossicker ans Muza and all for keeping this post alive....great work....hope to gather enough material to be a ble to contribute further when i get home..having a whale of a time..
.despite only pulling a fragment of a copper jacket bullet :cool: for what i have been through ...thos is heaven

All good brother, its a great thread. Imagine a PA book of poetry! Sounds like your having an awesome time mate - enjoy :perfect:
 
Wow, I am having more trouble working out the forum mechanics than I really should be. I'm really sorry if I already posted this :awful:

This is a poem I wrote after a dream/nightmare I had.

Last night a spirit came to me
Around the room she danced with glee
Singing songs of torment and sorrow
Fervently I wished for the morrow
For the sun to shine on hill and glade
Like a whisper the spirit to fade.

But this is not what was to be
The spirit had much to inflict on me
Of despair and decay and all things rotten
But most terrible of all, to be forgotten
For that is where her torment lay
In a long past epoch far away
There it was her heart would rot
For in her passing she was forgot.

This will not do my spirit friend
I know how to bring your torments end
Tell me of your life long gone
Of your loves, your laughs, even things forlorn
Tell me now and tell me true
The years have not yet won over you
Inside your heart my spectral love
Dust off the cobwebs and rise above
In your memory glistens the key
For hear me spirit, listen to me.

I will not forget your name so fair
Or how it was you wore your hair
I will remember the children that you bore
Of the man you loved who is no more
Of times of mirth, sadness and toil
How in the end you were committed to soil

I wont forget your legacy
I will profess your memory
I wont let you be forsaken...

"Oh dearheart you are mistaken."
"For when I came to you last eve,
Your mortal body ceased to be."
"Now give in to all things decay and rotten,
For you are now one of the forgotten."

Spirit do not threaten me
I lived and breathed eternity
My mind is not so tiny and small
That I am overcome with it all
For I drew breath and rejoiced in the sun
I bled and cried and knew such fun
I shared in the temporary adventure called life
All of its peace and all of its strife.

Each time a sunset is viewed pleasurably
Then that is precisely where I will be
For all the joy, the love, the pain and mirth
Through all the feelings experienced on earth
A shared symphony of what it is to be
Part of the beautiful plague of humanity
Disorder, chaos, entropy
Harmony within divinity

Look to the sunset thats where I'll be.
 
Wheremugoldat...brilliant!... welcome to the poetry section...so nice to know of others who have what it takes to produce such excellent work...well done...and give us more....hope to see you oneday....at the diggins :cool: ....Rossco...reefer.
 
Too high praise my friend, I need to work on the rhythm and flow before I can be counted amongst the poets in here. As with anything it's a work in progress and I will keep on plugging away.

I'll be happy to share more as I go along, thanks for the confidence boost Rossco!
 
Wheremuhgoldat...no not too high...your rythm is inherent..you cant teach it...it comes from within...sally forth in confidence of your minds eye...and your good heart...there are no critics to satisfy here....only friends to appreciate the effort it takes...you either have it or you don't...and you my friend ...have it . :Y: :cool: reefer.
 
When someone very close to me passed away it took a while for me to come to terms with how little time we get to spend with people we love. I came to realise that they live on in memory. The funny things they said and did, the foods they enjoyed, the times we shared. I hold them close to me and it's like they are still here. This was a poem I wrote about it.

Life in comparison is much too swift
Caught up in eternity's compelling drift
We flicker and fade, glowing much too brief
Leaving those behind consumed by grief
but however fast existence is quelled
however faint the scent is smelled
the one thing that lingers on
resonating like the sweetest song
Stopping time within its place
frozen forever, loves true grace.
 
Where is the Leader

Where is the leader be it He or She
To which we can look for a light to see
Is she out there does he exist
Or are we forever shackled to the fetid cyst.

Of those whose conceit and twisted thoughts
Feed of the nation through putrid rorts
And have no concern for the poor and unemployed
Who daily struggle in this world devoid.

Of compassion and care and human rights
The homeless on streets in cold winter nights
The old and the frail the sick and the maimed
The battler's the couples and thousands untrained.

Where is the Leader can you show me a trace
Is she yet a young lass or a Lady of Grace
Is he a strong man a principled cove
One is sorely needed in this country by Jove'

One who has foresight, a vision, a path
An eye to the future not stuck in the past
No same old same thing what's in it for me
But honest and truthful with integrity.

Where is the leader where can they be
You're needed so badly by this our country
Stand up and be counted, let's hear your voice
Your country is calling hear us rejoice.

Our land is 'Down Under' the Great Southern Land
Where is the leader who can take command
One endowed with wisdom warm heart and straight talk
Not one with a snake's tongue shaped like a fork

Where is the leader of our common good
With the courage of Ned Kelly and the pluck of Robin Hood
Or perhaps a 'Boudica' Queen of the ancient celt
With flowers in her hair and a sword on her belt

Where is the leader like a sailing ship's prow
Not to be seen in the mob we have now... :cool: copyright R.LANGLANDS.2019
 
Ode To a 25" DDX

Shall I compare thee to mine eyes?
Nay, for thou sees deeper through natures lies.....

Exciting rocks to make them sing
while exciting mine, you sexy thing :inlove:

Daughter of the Wizard winding wands for Gold & Coins,
Ye fruit sprung forth, from Rohans loins.

Oh, Dark Round Beauty, Large & Smooth,
Hanging off my shaft (ooooh, now that sounds rude!).

Gracefully gliding, slow but true
We move as one, as lovers do.
 
_O_N_E_
Aaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
Silver
1-9-2019
 

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