ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

In the keeping with theme of the project that Hully is involved with, (see below) I am posting this poem. It received a HC and was published in the 'Bronze Swagman Anthology' in 2009.

Rivers On The Rise
© Zondrae King (Corrimal) 03/09

On farms north east of Walgett there is tension in the air.
A meagre crop of hay is in the shed.
The time has come for planning on what looks like barren ground.
The years roll by and fam’lies forge ahead.

It’s March. The start of autumn and the lambs have all been sold.
The ewes are in the stubble once again.
The summer has been bearable now winter’s closing in
and to the north they’re forecasting more rain.

For seven years of drought have left the paddocks brown and dry
and fam’lies on the land are nearly done.
We know our country is a land that’s known for its extremes
and every seasons challenge must be won.

When rain falls up in Queensland and the creeks are filling up,
the message travels faster than the flow.
Precautions must be taken now, before the peak arrives.
This warning’s from old timers in the know.

It’s water always water; there’s too much or not enough.
Out west the farmers look towards the skies.
The drought is breaking to the north and waters pouring in.
Now danger comes from rivers on the rise.

From creeks round Boggabilla, and across to Weemelah
and all the waterways to Mungindi,
reports are pouring in and sending messages to all
these floods could break the record for a high.

Then Morialta sends the word the Gwyder banks are gone
and they must move their stock or they will drown.
While those on higher country may have more time than the rest
and rush to help their neighbour lower down.

A mob of prize merinos must be moved to higher ground.
Store heavy farm equipment somewhere dry.
Round Goondawindi all the creeks and gullies are awash
and water levels dangerously high.

Now all the towns with levee banks are checking that they're sound.
They hope their years of planning are enough.
They fill more sand bags in advance or send the dozers in.
They sense the next few weeks could well be rough.

With water raising slowly many choose to leave their homes
evacuating children and the old,
to wait somewhere in safety til the water flows away.
They dare not go back home until they're told.

For when the Barwon’s peaking and the Boomi slips its banks
the water quickly spreads across the plane.
Advances then are double and they know they are in strife.
Not many sheds and fences will remain.

When towns are isolated helicopters bring in food
to keep the population safely fed.
The army mobilizes to bring medicine and gas
or take the injured to a sick bay bed.

The miners digging opal round the fields of Lightning Ridge
will listen to predictions with a sigh.
So many of the workings are connected underground
if flooded, well they could take months to dry.

Along the swollen rivers farmers worry through the night,
Eulalie to Bukulla must beware.
The devastation threatens all the way to Narren Lake.
“Just spare our lives, Lord,” is their silent prayer.

From Walgett past the Narren to Brewarrina and west.
Into the Darling well before it drops.
If it should spread from Pagan Creek to Mercadool and Lorne
it looks like doom for Gingi’s sorghum crops .

Then farmers bend their weary heads and kiss their kids goodnight
and put their arms around their faithful mates.
They tell them try to get some rest. We’ve done all that we can
then go to keep the night watch by the gate.

For rivers know no borders, disregard lines on a map.
The least resistance designates their run.
They have no use for boundaries of property or state
Their devastating damage sparing none.

The people of the planes and valleys, all around the world,
know floods will come. They always have before.
The silt that covers everything rejuvenates the land
and with fertility their hopes restore.

G/day Zodrae,
I had read it before but thanks for putting it up here.

Speaking of the mines being connected underground and then flooded if there was very heavy rain, the same thing happened at Coober Pedy on rare occasions when torrential rain caused minor floods. Mind you it was a fairly rare occurrence out there.

Terry

G'day Terry,

Thanks for replying. Yes, that was a strange situation, the army had provided these large volume pumps, and we had almost flooded the local golf course and the cemetery with the water we had pumped out, but the level refused to go down. Then we found out that the mines on the other side of the township were mysteriously becoming dry.

I find this poem a 'dry read'. It feels too contrived for me. Even though it tells of flooding there is no real climax. I would have liked to have an exciting and life threatening event included. A kitten up a tree perhaps or a lady about to give birth on the side of the road... oh wait... that had already happened. My second child who was born by the road, was about 8 months old when the water arrived.

Hi Zondrae,
Sometimes you have to tell your story the way it is, they can't always be as you may prefer.

I'm often aware of this in telling a particular story and don't want to wander too far of the real story.

I reckon you have told this one well.

Cheers Terry

zondrae wrote:I find this poem a 'dry read'. It feels too contrived for me. Even though it tells of flooding there is no real climax. I would have liked to have an exciting and life threatening event included. A kitten up a tree perhaps or a lady about to give birth on the side of the road... oh wait... that had already happened. My second child who was born by the road, was about 8 months old when the water arrived.

G'day Zondrae

If you do want a poem that has those attributes, why not do a fictional account based on the two scenarios (a flood and the giving birth on the side of the road)? If you have lived through both experiences, you should be able to write something fictional along those lines that does seem very real.

I have written fictional poems that have combined two or three different stories in this way. Looking at what you have said Zondrae, I think this would be well worth a try.

Regards


John Peel

Thanks John,
As always you give advice well beyond your age.

I have written a short story about a drama involving a birth, a flood, a missing person and a snake bite. It isn't a poem, but you have made me think about making it into one. Unlike a lot of my poems, the 'punch' line could be right at the end. I know I have generally produced weak endings in the past and I have made a firm commitment to myself to do better.

zondrae wrote:It feels too contrived for me

What do you mean Zondrae. Surely a poem is meant to be " contrived ". Rhyming couplets are contrived speech aren't they ?

The only bit I quailed at was the dreaded " fam'lies ".... unnecessary in modern usage.

Were you hoping to make a " punch line " I don't think that matters. You told the story, made the picture. Job done. Sounds all right to me.

With the mention of all the place names, Zondrae, it reminds me of C. J. Dennis' " A Song of Rain". Do you know it? Both poems have an almost documentary feel, which works well. It would be depressing to think that every poem needed a baby stuck up a tree, or the emotional equivalent.

Zondrae, I'm interested in your comment that you feel you have written weak endings in the past. I don't know if that's true or not - or exactly what you mean by that - but I'd be a bit wary of trying to push yourself to write in any way that is unnatural to you.

If 'weak' endings are your forte, why not concentrate on trying to make them weaker and weaker? Parodoxically, that might well prove to be the best way to strengthen them.

I love this poem Zondrae - you tell it like it is and I particularly like the last three stanzas. It's hard to know which judges are going to prefer the full words being included to the shortened versions such as 'fam'lies' and 'mem'ries', but in this case you did received an award and publication and I feel it was well deserved.