For Chip Chip`` a Mate

December 1, 2013, 9:15 pm

≫ Next: Old Jim (Jimmy Gardiner)

≪ Previous: A Tribute to an Old Drover - Ron Cody

FOR ‘CHIP-CHIP’ A MATE

No more the bronco harness, or the collar and the hames,

Now we have a cradle and a crush, nothing stays the same.

What are these monstrosities, where once a bronco panel stood?

Railway line and pipe, is nothing made of wood?

We had twisted wire cables, big snappy gum posts,

Oh so many memories, oh so many ghosts.

The bronco panel's busted and almost fallen down,

You'd never know it used to see, a thousand calves a round.

At Hughie Spring on the black soil plain where you couldn't see for dust,

The bronco yard has gone and the new one's, full of rust.

And often when we killed, you know we'd keep the hide

Cut out a strand, and twist a bronco rope with pride.

But where once we'd use a green hide rope, a welder's all you need.

The old days have all gone, and it's nothing to do with speed.

We'd do better than a calf a minute, with good men on the rope,

Brand, ear-mark, castrate, dehorn and never let ‘em choke,

Leg ropes front and back up against the panel tight,

Slack the call, pull 'em down, come on do it bloody right.

It was great in the early morning to see them branding irons glow,

Burnt into the hides forever, was the mighty ONE TEE OH.

Calves, bulls, mickeys and even cleanskin cows.

The old ways are all gone, look how they do it now.

I don't deny they get the job done, I don't deny they raise a sweat,

But of bronco panels and green hide ropes, old ringers dream I bet.

Pedro and old Alan, Chip-Chip the mighty mule,

Gee she'd pull her heart out, it was almost cruel.

The Rat, Toby, Euclid, Clancy and many more,

Chip-Chip was the best, though some call her a whore.

I've seen her snap a bronco rope, I've seen her on her knees,

I guess by now she's dead, but Lord I ask you please,

All those bronco horses, those titans of the past,

Give them green pasture, for they've earned peace at last.

Today they're branding calves with crush, cradle and all the rest,

I'm not real happy, for I remember ways I thought were best.

They say I'm yesterday's man, born a hundred years too late,

But the fact I've lived the past was a simple twist of fate.

So no more the bronco harness or the collar and the hames,

Time waits for no man; I guess nothing stays the same.

↧

Old Jim (Jimmy Gardiner)

December 3, 2013, 9:46 pm

≫ Next: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

≪ Previous: For Chip Chip`` a Mate

Jimmy Gardiner was a man I worked with for a while at Camden Park Menangle south of Sydney in the late 60's .... I have another poem that I wrote about Jim called Òld Jim and the Moon Landing` which I hope to put up at a later date once I get the audio back. Jim was a good cattle man and had great working dogs.

OLD JIM

Since the age of ten, he’d been droving in the sun and the rain,

semi-retired now and the stock routes would not see him again.

He was a hard man on his working dogs, but they sure respected him,

and he told me not to call him Mister “Son, my name is Jim.”

I was not long out of school and seeking my future direction,

and my interest in cattle and horses gave us a tenuous connection.

In some ways he was my hero; I would listen to his droving tales,

and once a week he’d head into town for the local cattle sales.

When the sale was over he would drink his fair share of beer,

but I never saw him angry; this man was always full of cheer.

Every weekend I’d see him walk down to this heavily wooded creek,

no matter what the weather even when it was wet and bleak.

This pilgrimage to the scrubby creek really fascinated me,

From his house, it was a good seven hundred yards you see.

One day he called in for a cup of tea and we began to talk,

and I figured this was my chance to ask about his weekly walk.

I said “Jim, I have to ask you something, and I don’t mean to pry,

but this weekend, sojourn to the creek, could you please tell me why?

He then told me the reason and I guess I had this look of surprise,

“I go down there for a crap.” old Jim said with a twinkle in his eyes.

I didn’t know what to say and for a while I was lost for a word,

This reason for his weekly walk to me seemed quite absurd

But I have an odd sense of humour and I thought this rather funny,

So I said “What’s the matter mate, do you have a buggered dunny?”

“No, it’s just that when I have the need to give me bowels a push,

For years I’ve always been far more comfortable doing it in the bush.”

“You see I suppose I’m claustrophobic, I don’t like feeling shut in,

Besides that porcelain dunny,

Well, I don’t like backing up to the bloody thing.”

↧

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

December 20, 2013, 3:44 pm

≫ Next: The Great Australian Freedom

≪ Previous: Old Jim (Jimmy Gardiner)

HERE WE GO AGAIN CHRISTMAS 2013

You know for some unknown reason I really dislike this time of year,

And I find it awfully false when everyone is full of Christmas cheer.

The retail shops just moan and tell us about how little people spend,

Things don’t look good for shareholders, there may be no dividend.

There are these Christmas carol singers with their angelic voices,

And the flaming TV stations, with those same old movie choices.

And this political correctness rubbish, calling it the holiday season,

Its Christmas time to me calling it otherwise is tantamount to treason.

Here in Australia, thousands will head to the coast and the ocean,

Either fishing or burning their bodies, covered in suntan lotion.

Farmers most likely check their stock; make sure the water’s right,

Even though the tanks were full when checked the previous night.

Businesses may shut their doors but for animals it’s just another day,

They still need a drink of water and perhaps a bale or two of hay.

Once those things are attended to a farmer can maybe just sit and unwind,

For tomorrow there’ll be things to do as its back to the daily grind.

You know I kind of miss those day’s and doing the Christmas water run,

When I’d head off early in the morning before the rising of the sun.

And in later years when the kids opened gates and came to give me a hand,

`Hurry up Dad we want to open our presents!` was the often heard command.

Another year must be nearly over if Christmas has come round once again,

And it’s hard to raise a smile now there are no kids here now to entertain.

But Merry Christmas everyone and I hope you have a Prosperous New Year,

Don’t spend or eat too much on Christmas Day and hey, go easy on the beer.

An AUSSIE CHRISTMAS

Santa Claus doesn’t use Reindeer when he visits the great Land Down Under,

When the Christmas time temperatures can be over 40c is it any wonder?

Reindeer like the winter cold and snow not this blistering summer heat,

So another mode of transport is required for Santa’s mission to be complete.

And don’t go thinking its six white boomers, that’s just a fantasy you know,

Just a song line someone wrote to get their record played on the radio.

No he needs something tough and reliable, something really beaut,

That’s why my friends he chooses the very best, a good old Holden ute.

He needs something for the city and something for that outback road,

Something that can carry all the presents, a huge gigantic load.

He’ll start off in south eastern states; gradually he’ll travel north,

Then head off down the Birdsville track moving back and forth.

Follow the Ghan on up to Darwin and deliver to the Northern Territory,

For every kid must receive a Christmas present for Santa its mandatory.

From Katherine down to Kununurra the old Holden ute rolls on,

Santa’s getting weary now from his Australian delivery marathon.

He zigzags his way south from the desert to the coast,

Dressed in shorts and T-shirt, he is as silent as a ghost.

Then it’s on to other countries for really his work is far from done,

And the transport that he chooses keeps him ahead of the rising sun.

So I think Santa is pretty happy that Christmas only comes but once a year,

But he loves that Holden ute when he speeds across Australia’s vast frontier.

So Merry Christmas everyone and have a safe and a prosperous New Year,

Go easy on your spending and eating and don’t forget to toast Santa with a beer.

↧

The Great Australian Freedom

December 22, 2013, 5:54 pm

≫ Next: Charity Should Begin at Home

≪ Previous: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

The GREAT AUSTRALIAN FREEDOM

Our forebears came to this country many in convict ships and chains,

And backs showed the scars where the cat-o-nine tails had reined.

Australian culture has developed since the time of the first fleet,

It has never been an easy task to put this great country on her feet.

This country was founded on Christian principles, but we allow freedom of religion here,

And even if you pray to a different God, you won’t have to hide or live in fear

We have no national motto but `In Our Mate’s We Trust`,

Here everyone gets a fair go, because that’s an Australian must.

Australia is an English speaking country, and here we say thank you and please,

Our national language is not Italian, Arabic, Polish or Lebanese.

We are proud of our Flag, our sporting achievements, and proud of the Southern Cross?

And in settling this vast country many people suffered hardship and loss.

Australians have fought in many battles, sometimes incurring a huge loss of life,

Yet a true Aussie will always stand ready to help a mate, especially if he’s in strife.

Now that I’ve told you a few things about our history and heritage, perhaps you’ll begin to understand

Why Australians can be so parochial about this Great southern Land.

Like I said this is our country, our lifestyle, our land and our flag,

Yes, I’m bloody proud of it and on occasions it gives me cause to brag.

But strangers come here to live and then say they don’t like our regulations or our rules,

Their children often receive free education, but they don’t like what is taught in our schools.

They have come to this country to escape war, persecution and strife,

Yes, they say they left their homeland in search of a better way of life.

We’ll give them an equal opportunity and we’ll give them a fair go,

But don’t complain or start telling us how to run our show.

And if our national anthem offends you I suggest you live elsewhere,

But there is only one Australia, and our way of life is extremely rare.

No doubt some people will be offended because I speak my mind,

I’m only saying what many think; I don’t mean to be unkind.

But for people who are unhappy with their many freedom’s here,

Let me tell them something and I hope I make it crystal clear;

When they’ve finished whinging and wiping their tears on my sleeve;

Remember they can choose that other great Australian freedom;

`THE RIGHT TO BLOODY LEAVE`.

↧

Charity Should Begin at Home

January 9, 2014, 10:42 pm

≫ Next: The Black Dog Returns

≪ Previous: The Great Australian Freedom

CHARITY SHOULD BEGIN AT HOME

Clearly Charity and Drought are two words that don’t seem to fit together,

Especially here, where the government doesn’t seem to care about the weather.

But Typhoon Haiyan in the Philippines sees four million dollars in aid,

While here the hard working rural battlers never seem to make the grade.

With all their dams going dry, they daily pull cattle from the bogs,

Every night recorded in their diaries more heart break is logged.

Whatever happened to the old saying of `Charity beginning at home, `

Canberra turns its back and says `the bush must make a go of it alone. `

When stations have to buy feed and water the dollars soon run out,

But rarely do we see assistance for those that battle drought.

Orphaned calves surround the homestead; they bellow pitifully for a feed,

A heifer here, a bull calf there, and defeat their owner will not concede.

Weary eyes are bloodshot they can no longer shed a tear, hope is all but lost,

Strength of will and character is dying, when will the final line be crossed?

Every day a struggle; hoping that the weather pendulum will swing,

Drought, seven letters is a most insidious, heart breaking thing.

So come on Canberra it’s time for you to look after the people of the land,

And forget all this overseas aid; you know it’s time you took a stand.

Imagine if you will how much hay a million dollars could supply,

We have a catastrophe on our doorstep this you surely can’t deny.

When you politicians sit down for a meal spare a thought from whence it came,

The calloused hands, the tired eyes, the stooped back; yes farmer is their name.

They are proud but almost broken; drought has bought them to their knees,

Now is the time for our government to help and to listen to their pleas.

↧

The Black Dog Returns

June 15, 2014, 5:01 pm

≫ Next: A Celebrity in Prison sic `Rolf`

≪ Previous: Charity Should Begin at Home

The Black Dog Returns

There is a black dog hanging round and scratching at my gate,

For some unknown reason he seems to think he’s still my mate.

I tried to hunt the mongrel cos I don’t need a visit at this time,

But he keeps on scratching and insists he’s a mate of mine.

We were pretty much companions then he’d suddenly disappear,

Then when I was feeling down the bastard would suddenly reappear.

He would just come out of nowhere like a ghost on the breeze,

Wagging his tail wildly, the cur was so eager, me to please.

He is whimpering and scratching cos I won’t open up and let him in,

Saliva drips from his mouth and he looks at me with a very devilish grin,

I reckon he thinks I’m weak, all because I’ve nurtured him before,

But I’ll tell you something; that whimpering is so hard to ignore.

I head towards the gate, and watch as his excitement seems to grow,

But I’ve a trick up my sleeve and it’s one he doesn’t know.

With chain and a padlock called Love the gate I firmly lock,

The slavering beast is now yelping as he looks at me with shock.

With his tail between his legs as he slowly slinks away,

The black clouds covering the sky are now turning grey.

As the sun breaks through I realize the Black Dog has disappeared,

It’s amazing how you see the world; once the sky has cleared.

↧

A Celebrity in Prison sic `Rolf`

March 1, 2016, 5:54 pm

≫ Next: Save Our Sons

≪ Previous: The Black Dog Returns

A Celebrity in Jail

I wonder how it is for a celebrity in jail, for Rolf was popular once,

Now he’s doing time in an English prison, guilty of being a nonce.

Most of us thought him talented and clever with his paintings and such,

Not knowing at the time that it was young girls he yearned to touch.

He was even commissioned to paint a portrait of Her Majesty the Queen,

All the time committing vile, insidious acts unspoken and unseen.

Now fallen so far from grace, I would have thought he’d show some remorse,

But there again like most abusers he considers the victims at fault of course.

Is he entertaining other prisoners with the wobble board and didgeridoo?

With that long tubular piece of wood I know what the victims would like to do.

He used his celebrity position it seems only to empower and intimidate,

People like Rolf Harris the general population would like to castrate.

↧

Save Our Sons

August 26, 2016, 7:04 pm

≫ Next: The Battle of Long Tan

≪ Previous: A Celebrity in Prison sic `Rolf`

Save Our Sons

The front page headline of The Sunday Times newspaper August 14^th 2016 screamed at us with the headline `Save Our Sons` it contained some frightening figures of service people that were unable to assimilate back into society and had then taken their own life.

`Save Our Sons` 2016

`Save our Sons`the Sunday Times newspaper headline screamed,

Returned service people are taking measures which are far too extreme.

41 Australian diggers were killed in Afghanistan over a period of 13 years,

The first 8 months of 2016 has seen another 41 take their own life it appears.

They were no longer on active duty but veterans returned home,

With wars horrific memories they choose to suffer all alone.

A national disgrace you say, but tell me please what is being done?

To prevent so many veterans finding solutions from the barrel of a gun.

Deployed in different theatres of war they had acquitted themselves well,

Only to return home to Australia and their own private living hell.

Veterans with invisible wounds but they were wounded all the same,

They thought there was no help, Australia this is a crying shame.

Empty promises of support both sides of politics bravely spout,

Promises as meaningless as those offered to farmers during drought.

Sons, brothers, sisters, daughters, husbands, fathers, mothers, wives,

Families wonder why the loved one back from overseas is still not alive.

The DVA entitlements procedure involves paper work galore,

Bureaucracies seem to forget that these people have been to fight a war.

I don’t know the answer, perhaps more medical help would be a start,

Losing so many of our Veterans is breaking their family’s heart.

To say you are not okay or for the toughest person to shed a tear,

Carries not a trace of stigma, believe me, there is no cause to fear.

Try and share the demons that haunt you because yes we bloody care,

Australians are proud of you and for your safety we offer up a silent prayer.

↧

The Battle of Long Tan

August 26, 2016, 7:07 pm

≫ Next: Political Correctness Gone Mad

≪ Previous: Save Our Sons

The Battle of Long Tan

The Battle of Long Tan

Fifty years ago in a rubber plantation in the Asian country of Vietnam,

D company of the 6^thRAR were forced to take a stand.

Engaged by small arms fire and rocket propelled grenades on the flank,

Outnumbered nearly 25 to 1, not the odds you would take to the bank.

108 Aussie diggers against up to two and a half thousand Viet Cong,

If the enemy thought the Aussie’s doomed they were soon proved wrong.

Pinned down they called for artillery as the monsoon rains began,

Anzac soldiers fought what would be known as the battle of Long Tan.

Heavy fighting with poor visibility and nearly surrounded, their ammo low,

When two RAAF choppers arrived to resupply them with its precious cargo.

The Aussies fought hard till near on dark when vital reinforcements arrived,

Nowhere in military history against such odds had a small force survived.

Eighteen Australians died a further twenty-four needed medical attention,

Anyone thinking the Aussies had suffered defeat was under a misapprehension.

A major setback for the Viet Cong with at least 245 of their number dead,

This was not an ANZAC defeat but a major Australian victory instead.

Remember these brave men, who fought as ANZACS have fought before,

The 18^th of August is a date no Australian or historian should ignore.

We pay our deepest respects to the these men of some 50 years ago,

Our servicemen always ensure that the ANZAC legend will forever grow.

`Lest We Forget`

↧

Political Correctness Gone Mad

August 28, 2016, 4:15 pm

≫ Next: More on the Flag an older poem

≪ Previous: The Battle of Long Tan

Political Correctness Gone Mad

This Political Correctness crap, well I think most Aussies have had enough,

Of the things that are really important the PC brigade couldn’t give a stuff.

They always seem to be so worried about someone getting offended,

Chastising people for not following the guidelines they recommended.

I’ve never heard the PC brigade speak up when someone sets our flag alight,

Does their silence suggest that in their eyes this disgraceful action is alright?

To support the desecration of something for which men have fought and died,

Will surely cause division among Australians, as patriots show their pride.

Whenever I see our flag raised, I remove my hat and show some respect,

The same for our National Anthem I believe this to be politically correct.

If you think these actions are old fashioned, so be it, I really couldn’t care,

But disrespect my flag sunshine; I’ve just one word and that is `beware`.

The 3^rd of September 2016 will be our Australian National Flag Day,

First raised in 1901 Aussies should and can be proud of the flag on display.

So if you burn and spit upon our flag we won’t just stand idly by,

Be prepared for all hell to break loose as our pride we satisfy.

If you don’t respect our flag then you disrespect where you live,

It’s an insult to proud Australians and something we can’t forgive.

Jails far too good for you and besides it costs us tax payers money,

Live in another country, you’re not wanted in the land of milk and honey.

If this verse upsets you because it is politically incorrect; too bloody bad,

Because all the flaming Bull Shit you carry on with makes me blooming mad.

Our flag is a symbol of who we really are, so show some fair dinkum pride,

Beneath the flag that bears the Southern Cross Aussies will stand side by side.

↧

More on the Flag an older poem

August 28, 2016, 5:12 pm

≫ Next: The Great Australian Freedom

≪ Previous: Political Correctness Gone Mad

OUR FLAG-(Rewrite)

I saw on the news one Australia Day, some bloke burn our flag,

I tell you when he spit upon it; I just about lost me rag.

Our flag is something that once would cause the whole country to unite,

Now we allow people to spit upon it so they can vent their spite.

I couldn’t help thinking of all who had fought to keep this country free,

I thought about the service men that had made the ultimate sacrifice for me.

The majority of us do not forget those that paid the ultimate price,

But their comrades in arms might ask why they made that sacrifice.

To burn and spit upon our flag shows disrespect for those that went before,

Disrespect to all who fought for our rights in the horrors of the war.

So was it all a waste? No mate we thank you for what you done.

And like you we’d like to see them flogged, the flag burning SCUM.

What about our athletes who are so proud, as our flag is raised on high?

And when they play the National anthem a tear forms in their eye.

Some Aussies said they wanted flag burning to be against the law,

But the Prime Minister shook his head and said “He wasn’t sure.”

I can’t believe anyone is allowed to desecrate our national flag;

But to see them spit upon it; well my anger makes me want to gag.

The journalists don’t help when they put these Wankers on the news,

Let me tell you; flag burning is no way for anyone to air their views.

They should be locked up; I don’t think they’ll be any loss;

I’ll salute the service men and I’m proud of the Southern Cross.

No one should be aloud to burn the flag under which so many died,

The government must pass a law and restore some ANZAC pride.

↧

The Great Australian Freedom

October 8, 2016, 7:00 pm

≫ Next: `Don't Feel Sorry For Me'

≪ Previous: More on the Flag an older poem

I recited this poem at the markets in Jurien one day and a woman came up to me and said she felt sorry for me :) so when I got home I wrote a poem called `Don't Feel Sorry for Me`
If this poem upsets you too bad listen to the words I make no apology.