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  • Allan James Saywell (12/3/2005 11:46:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The Man from Iron Bark


    It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
    He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
    He loitered here he loitered there, till he was like to drop,
    Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.
    'Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,
    I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark.'
    The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are,
    He wore a strike-your-fancy sash he smoked a huge cigar;
    He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee,
    He laid the odds and kept a 'tote', whatever that may be,
    And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered, 'Here's a lark!
    Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark.'

    There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber's wall.
    Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all;
    To them the barber passed the wink his dexter eyelid shut,
    'I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut.'
    And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark:
    'I s'pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark.'

    A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman's chin,
    Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in.
    He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat,
    Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim's throat;
    Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark -
    No doubt it fairly took him in - the man from Ironbark.

    He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear,
    And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear,
    He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd'rous foe:
    'You've done for me! you dog, I'm beat! one hit before I go!
    I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark!
    But you'll remember all your life the man from Ironbark.'

    He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout
    He landed on the barber's jaw, and knocked the barber out.
    He set to work with nail and tooth, he made the place a wreck;
    He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck.
    And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark,
    And 'Murder! Bloody murder! ' yelled the man from Ironbark.

    A peeler man who heard the din came in to see the show;
    He tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go.
    And when at last the barber spoke, and said ''Twas all in fun'
    Twas just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone.'
    'A joke! ' he cried, 'By George, that's fine; a lively sort of lark;
    I'd like to catch that murdering swine some night in Ironbark.'

    And now while round the shearing floor the list'ning shearers gape,
    He tells the story o'er and o'er, and brags of his escape.
    'Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I've had enough,
    One tried to cut my bloomin' throat, but thank the Lord it's tough.'
    And whether he's believed or no, there's one thing to remark,
    That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.

    A.B. (Banjo) Paterson

    A B Banjo Paterson

    Replies for this message:
    • Herbert Nehrlich1 (12/3/2005 11:50:00 PM) Post reply

      I love it Allan, the taste of the Great Outback. Best wishes H P.S.: I hope you are wrong with the clouds coming to P/H

  • Mary Nagy (12/3/2005 8:17:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    Hey, I just noticed something in the other forum and I thought I'd share it here........when you type short poems it turns into a link. This also works with love poems. Not sure what else would turn into a link..... death poems, christmas poems, holiday poems, ? ? Has this always happened or is it a new feature that I just never noticed?

    Replies for this message:
    • Richard George (12/4/2005 5:53:00 AM) Post reply

      There can be a silver lining to this... a haiku of mine called 'Small Solace' went straight into poems on loss, and it's my most read poem (nearly 300 hits) .

    • Mary Nagy (12/3/2005 8:18:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Ok, forget it........It does make a link but it's not a link on this site it seems........the love poems one took me to a mobile phone thing.....strange.


    To read all of 3 replies click here
  • Poetry Hound (12/3/2005 3:57:00 PM) Post reply

    Dreux,
    As you can see for yourself, it's a menagerie around here. Some people don't even make any sense. I suggest you write privately to the individuals you would like input from. Regards.

  • Allan James Saywell (12/3/2005 3:57:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    FOR DRUEX

    I HAVE GATHERED THESE STORIES AFAR
    IN THE WIND AND THE RAIN
    IN THE LAND WHERE THE CATTLE CAMPS ARE
    ON THE EDGE OF THE PLAIN
    ON THE OVERLAND ROUTES OF THE WEST
    WHEN THE WATCHES WERE LONG
    I HAVE FASHIONED IN ERNEST AND JEST
    THESE FRAGMENTS OF SONG

    THEY ARE JUST THE RUDE STORIES ONE HEARS
    IN SADNESS AND MIRTH
    THE RECORDS OF WANDERING YEARS-
    AND SCANT IS THEIR WORTH
    THOUGH THEIRE MERITS ARE BUT SLIGHT
    I SHALL NOT REPINE
    IF THEY GIVE YOU ONE MOMENTS DELIGHT
    OLD COMRADES OF MINE

    THAT IS THE PRELUDE FROM A BOOK OF AB PATTERSON IN MY POSESSION I DONT THINK IT IS IN YOUR LIST OF POEMS AND I HOPE IT WILL HELP THOSE SO CALLED POETS
    WHO THINK THEY KNOW EVERTHING BUT REALY KNOW NOTHING

    Replies for this message:
    • Ernestine Northover Rookie - 1st Stage (12/3/2005 4:14:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      I know this is written for Druex, Allan, but I would like to say that it is absolutely super, what a fantastic poem, I have never read his work before but it's definitely a great read. Thanks for putt ... more

  • Allan James Saywell (12/3/2005 3:42:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    dreux you would be better suited with your brand of, i dont know what to call it definately not poetry some sites that look after beginners we have heaps of beginners here do you really think you can walk into a site full of lunatics
    and get them to read your work when they dont understand themselves i mean well
    educated people and they write shit pure shit that is why i have to give them heaps of banjo because reading him they will at least understand rhyme
    because bannjo was a master i mean how many poems have you put together
    have you heard of delusions and these will play you along while ever it suits them because they have the same delusions as you they think they even after five poems they think that an editor is going to tap them on a shoulder and say are you ready to be published

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  • Allan James Saywell (12/3/2005 4:40:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    that poem from AB PATTERSON COMES FROM A BOOK PUBLISHED IN 1934 BY ANGUS AND
    ROBERTSON OF WHICH I HAVE A RARE COPY TOMORROW I WILL DO THE PRELUDE POEM
    THIS MAN WAS A GREAT STORY TELLER POET WHO USED THE OLD ENGLISH WELL BACK IN THOSE TIMES THERE WAS LOTS OF ENGLISH STILL IN OUR BLOOD THOUGH TO BE BORN HERE IN THIS COUNTRY MADE YOU TRUE BLUE EVEN THOUGH YOUR ANCESTRY WAS IRISH SCOTTISH GERMAN DUTCH AND MANY OTHER RACES I AM GOING TO CONCENTRATE ON THE WORK OF THIS POET HE DESERVES MORE RECOGNITION FOR HIS WORK

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  • Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler (12/2/2005 11:07:00 PM) Post reply

    to Herbert and fellow PHers

    re: the One-Giver(s)

    NO ENEMIES

    You have no enemies, you say?
    Alas, my friend, the boast is poor.
    He who has mingled in the fray
    Of duty, that the brave endure,
    Must have made foes. If you have none
    Small is the work that you have done.
    You've hit no traitor on the hip,
    You've dashed no cup from perjured lip,
    You've never turned the wrong to right,
    You've been a coward in the fight.

    Charles Mackay

  • Allan James Saywell (12/2/2005 9:49:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    hello old beatles rolling rocks acid head survivors folk singers and other
    bleeding hearts and people who like to lullsbye there partners to sleep
    how art thou.A little something from A.B Patterson
    I THOUGHT, IN THE DAYS OF MY DROVING
    OF STEPS I MIGHT HOPE TO RETRACE
    TO BE DONE WITH THE BUSH AND THE ROVING
    AND SETTLE ONCE MORE IN MY PLACE
    WITH A HEART THAT WAS WELL NIGH TO BREAKING
    IN THE LONG.LONELY RIDES ON THE PLAIN
    I THOUGHT OF THE PLEASURE OF TAKING
    THE HAND OF A LADY AGAIN

    FROM A VOICE FROM THE TOWN

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  • Joseph Daly (12/2/2005 8:53:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    I was reminded of this whilst I had the Beatles’ ‘Abbey Road’ playing the other day. Never noted for crediting others they lifted a lot of the words to ‘Golden Slumbers’ from a poem by the Jacobean playwright Thomas Dekker. It was a piece I came across by accident in my youth and I still love it. Dekker is a bit obscure and his plays (the few that I have come across) leave a lot to be desired. But this piece, entitled ‘Golden Slumbers kiss your eyes’, I feel is so beautiful. I don’t know whether it is addressed to his wife, his mistress, a prostitute or even his children, it has such a lovely feel to it. I hope you agree.

    GOLDEN SLUMBERS KISS YOUR EYES

    Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
    Smiles awake you when you rise;
    Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
    And I will sing a lullaby,
    Rock them, rock them, lullaby.
    Care is heavy, therefore sleep you,
    You are care, and care must keep you;
    Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
    And I will sing a lullaby,
    Rock them, rock them, lullaby

    Replies for this message:
    • Max Reif Rookie - 1st Stage (12/3/2005 8:34:00 AM) Post reply

      I find it charming that McCartney/Lennon recycled from the vast fields of English literature, however this lullaby was brought to their attention. Lends a depth. And 'A Day in the Life' reminds me a b ... more

    • Michael Shepherd Rookie - 1st Stage (12/3/2005 6:29:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      The lullaby, a rhyme to lull a baby to sleep, is quite an interesting poetic form going back centuries. It's discussed quite a bit on baby sites - and handy for New Men too! The mother will either ... more

    • Allan James Saywell Rookie - 1st Stage (12/2/2005 9:38:00 PM) Post reply

      reminds me of someone trying to wake a prositute up in between shifts and instead of saying wake up bitch like any normal bloke he pull's out a book of old poetry from an old poet who survived the ... more

  • allan james saywell (12/2/2005 5:22:00 PM) Post reply

    Morning greased snakes lubricated sausages sinners and things that float in rivers that have sunglasses so you wont know them. how are you
    thank you for the comment on the young fellows poem one response i think that
    maybe an alias was used by a naughty person to deceive me tut tut tut tut

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