Halloween help
Re: Halloween help
Hey Bob, I dug these out from the Heritage Village Halloween night last year. My sister's the good lookin' one - she got the long graceful nose and the shiny gold toof!
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- Stephen Whiteside
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Re: Halloween help
Here's the only one I ever wrote, Kym. Looking at it again now (I wrote it in 2004) I'm surprised how weak it is. Still, it's on topic! (I wrote it for a fete at the primary school our kids were attending.)
The Haunted House
© Stephen Whiteside 07.11.2004
Before you should enter this haunted old house.
Ask yourself if you're ready for what lies inside,
For soon you might feel like a small, frightened mouse.
There is nowhere to run. There is no place to hide.
How will you manage with bats overhead?
How will you cope with the chill down your spine
When you find you're surrounded by all the undead,
And you're gazing at severed heads pickled in brine?
You don't have to enter. It could be an error.
Go grab an ice cream, a Coke for you thirst.
If you dirty your undies, or freeze up with terror,
You cannot now claim that you were not warned first!
The Haunted House
© Stephen Whiteside 07.11.2004
Before you should enter this haunted old house.
Ask yourself if you're ready for what lies inside,
For soon you might feel like a small, frightened mouse.
There is nowhere to run. There is no place to hide.
How will you manage with bats overhead?
How will you cope with the chill down your spine
When you find you're surrounded by all the undead,
And you're gazing at severed heads pickled in brine?
You don't have to enter. It could be an error.
Go grab an ice cream, a Coke for you thirst.
If you dirty your undies, or freeze up with terror,
You cannot now claim that you were not warned first!
Stephen Whiteside, Australian Poet and Writer
http://www.stephenwhiteside.com.au
http://www.stephenwhiteside.com.au
Re: Halloween help
Hahahaaa Stephen, good one. I'll have to get my thinking cap on and write some spooky poems. Just can't seem to find enough spare time ...
Re: Halloween help
That's because you are too busy sipping champagne and having your pinkie in the air! 

- Bob Pacey
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Re: Halloween help
So where are the Halloween pictures then ???
Those look like normal family snaps to me.
Robert
Those look like normal family snaps to me.



Robert
The purpose in life is to have fun.
After you grasp that everything else seems insignificant !!!
After you grasp that everything else seems insignificant !!!
Re: Halloween help
I know, we're a good lookin' family, hey?
Although, when we put these photos (and others) on facebook, some people offered the names and numbers of their dentists ... dunno why ...
Although, when we put these photos (and others) on facebook, some people offered the names and numbers of their dentists ... dunno why ...
Last edited by Kym on Fri Oct 07, 2011 9:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
- David Campbell
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Re: Halloween help
Hi Kym
If you want a poetry-related (although not halloween-related) ghost story here's an old one of mine.
Incident at Fisher's Ghost Creek
© David Campbell, 2003
I know a bloke wot knows a bloke 'oo as been known ter boast
that late one night in Campbelltown 'e saw Fred Fisher's ghost.
Now I ain't one ter take the mick unless I check it out,
so 'ere I am down by the creek ter settle any doubt.
In June of eighteen twenty six, it seems this Fisher gent
just disappeared and no-one knew just where the blighter went...
except 'is mate, this Worrall chap, 'oo sed 'e'd just shot through
an' 'eaded back ter Blighty's shores, though why 'e never knew.
Now people thought this story suss when Worrall tried ter claim
that all of Fisher's worldly goods were now in Worrall's name!
But no-one really knew fer sure, there weren't no evidence...
until the night that Fisher's ghost appeared upon a fence.
A farmer goin' 'ome fer tea, Jim Farley so they say,
was frightened by a spectral sight wot shimmered in 'is way.
This eerie figure, drippin' blood, gave out a fearful shriek,
then raised 'is shinin', ghostly arm...an' pointed at the creek!
Now Farley fainted right away, an' when the poor man woke
old Fisher's ghost 'ad disappeared, like in a puff of smoke.
But when the coppers 'ad a look right in that very place,
they dug up Fisher's bloody corpse...the ghost 'ad solved their case!
So Georgie Worrall went ter trial fer killin' 'is best mate,
"He's guilty!" was the jury's cry, an' 'angin' was 'is fate.
That's 'ow the story's come on down, an' why I'm sittin' 'ere
beside that creek with just some rum ter keep away the fear.
I've set meself ter spend the night, but as the hours go by
I'm thinkin' that this really was a stupid thing ter try.
But just as I'm about ter leave I 'ears this awful moan,
wot's follered by a mournful sigh...it seems I'm not alone!
I looks around and there 'e is...this figure dressed in white,
with blood all drippin' from 'is 'ead...'e's quite a ghastly sight!
But...hang on now...oh, flippin' 'eck, this rocks me ter the core,
'cos now I see there's more than one...in fact there's flamin' four!
Gorstrooth! Old Fisher's brought 'is mates, an' now they're after me...
I've 'ad it now, me goose is cooked, me fate is plain ter see!
The one in front's a swaggie type 'oo starts ter sing a song...
of jumbucks an' a tucker bag beside a billabong.
The other two then starts ter fight, ter shout an' yell an' cuss
until old Fisher does 'is block: "Hey! Cut out all the fuss!"
While me...well, I'm just sittin' there, I'm frozen ter the spot.
Me brain won't work, I'm scared ter death, me stomach's in a knot!
"Don't worry, mate," sez Fisher's ghost, "an' just ignore them two...
these bloody poets are a pest, it's all they ever do.
That's 'Enry Lawson on the left, an' Banjo on the right...
they can't agree on 'oo's the best, so all they do is fight!
Now 'Enry sez 'e's better known, but Banjo claims 'e's wrong...
'e drags around the swaggie's ghost an' makes 'im sing that song.
So 'Enry simply goes berserk an' belts 'im in the 'ead.
You take my tip an' stay alive...it's no fun bein' dead!
When C. J. Dennis brings along 'is Sentimental Bloke
I 'as ter act as referee...I tell yer, that's no joke!
Them buggers 'as an all-in brawl...they 'ates each other's guts...
they spouts their bloody verse all day an' drives me flamin' nuts!"
With that old Fisher spun around, a shining silver streak
wot shot straight up an' swirled about, then vanished in the creek.
The other three all gave a yell an' follered 'im right in...
which left me all alone again, still shakin' in me skin.
I dunno just 'ow long I sat an' tried ter think it through,
'cos maybe it was all a dream...that rum's a fearful brew.
But in the end it seemed ter me I 'ad a tale ter tell,
so now you know just wot it's like...when poets go ter hell!
If you want a poetry-related (although not halloween-related) ghost story here's an old one of mine.
Incident at Fisher's Ghost Creek
© David Campbell, 2003
I know a bloke wot knows a bloke 'oo as been known ter boast
that late one night in Campbelltown 'e saw Fred Fisher's ghost.
Now I ain't one ter take the mick unless I check it out,
so 'ere I am down by the creek ter settle any doubt.
In June of eighteen twenty six, it seems this Fisher gent
just disappeared and no-one knew just where the blighter went...
except 'is mate, this Worrall chap, 'oo sed 'e'd just shot through
an' 'eaded back ter Blighty's shores, though why 'e never knew.
Now people thought this story suss when Worrall tried ter claim
that all of Fisher's worldly goods were now in Worrall's name!
But no-one really knew fer sure, there weren't no evidence...
until the night that Fisher's ghost appeared upon a fence.
A farmer goin' 'ome fer tea, Jim Farley so they say,
was frightened by a spectral sight wot shimmered in 'is way.
This eerie figure, drippin' blood, gave out a fearful shriek,
then raised 'is shinin', ghostly arm...an' pointed at the creek!
Now Farley fainted right away, an' when the poor man woke
old Fisher's ghost 'ad disappeared, like in a puff of smoke.
But when the coppers 'ad a look right in that very place,
they dug up Fisher's bloody corpse...the ghost 'ad solved their case!
So Georgie Worrall went ter trial fer killin' 'is best mate,
"He's guilty!" was the jury's cry, an' 'angin' was 'is fate.
That's 'ow the story's come on down, an' why I'm sittin' 'ere
beside that creek with just some rum ter keep away the fear.
I've set meself ter spend the night, but as the hours go by
I'm thinkin' that this really was a stupid thing ter try.
But just as I'm about ter leave I 'ears this awful moan,
wot's follered by a mournful sigh...it seems I'm not alone!
I looks around and there 'e is...this figure dressed in white,
with blood all drippin' from 'is 'ead...'e's quite a ghastly sight!
But...hang on now...oh, flippin' 'eck, this rocks me ter the core,
'cos now I see there's more than one...in fact there's flamin' four!
Gorstrooth! Old Fisher's brought 'is mates, an' now they're after me...
I've 'ad it now, me goose is cooked, me fate is plain ter see!
The one in front's a swaggie type 'oo starts ter sing a song...
of jumbucks an' a tucker bag beside a billabong.
The other two then starts ter fight, ter shout an' yell an' cuss
until old Fisher does 'is block: "Hey! Cut out all the fuss!"
While me...well, I'm just sittin' there, I'm frozen ter the spot.
Me brain won't work, I'm scared ter death, me stomach's in a knot!
"Don't worry, mate," sez Fisher's ghost, "an' just ignore them two...
these bloody poets are a pest, it's all they ever do.
That's 'Enry Lawson on the left, an' Banjo on the right...
they can't agree on 'oo's the best, so all they do is fight!
Now 'Enry sez 'e's better known, but Banjo claims 'e's wrong...
'e drags around the swaggie's ghost an' makes 'im sing that song.
So 'Enry simply goes berserk an' belts 'im in the 'ead.
You take my tip an' stay alive...it's no fun bein' dead!
When C. J. Dennis brings along 'is Sentimental Bloke
I 'as ter act as referee...I tell yer, that's no joke!
Them buggers 'as an all-in brawl...they 'ates each other's guts...
they spouts their bloody verse all day an' drives me flamin' nuts!"
With that old Fisher spun around, a shining silver streak
wot shot straight up an' swirled about, then vanished in the creek.
The other three all gave a yell an' follered 'im right in...
which left me all alone again, still shakin' in me skin.
I dunno just 'ow long I sat an' tried ter think it through,
'cos maybe it was all a dream...that rum's a fearful brew.
But in the end it seemed ter me I 'ad a tale ter tell,
so now you know just wot it's like...when poets go ter hell!
Re: Halloween help
Thanks David. So, that's your poem hey? I've heard/read it before, but didn't know it was yours. Gor strooth ...
There must really be a ghost of Fred Fisher who's supposed to hang around, cos I've heard other poems about him too. What's the story behind it and where is he supposed to be located?
K.
There must really be a ghost of Fred Fisher who's supposed to hang around, cos I've heard other poems about him too. What's the story behind it and where is he supposed to be located?
K.
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Re: Halloween help
Great Poem David, I really enjoyed reading it.
Cheers Terry
Cheers Terry
- David Campbell
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- Joined: Sun Nov 28, 2010 10:27 am
- Location: Melbourne
- Contact:
Re: Halloween help
Hi Kym
Yes, the poem is in my book Skycatcher so it's been 'out there' for a while. Perhaps that's where you saw it. On the other hand, although nobody has ever actually sought permission to perform it, it's also quite possible you may have heard it somewhere. As Glenny (and others) have observed, there are some people who use poems without bothering with the courtesy of asking first...and even a few who don't worry about proper attribution. Put 'em in the stocks, I say! And yes, the legend of Fisher's Ghost is based on a true story, much as I've described it in the poem. If you want the full tale you can find a version of it at: http://www.campbelltown.nsw.gov.au/defa ... CatID=2029 I wrote the poem for the 2003 FAW Macarthur Region Bush Verse Competition because Campbelltown, where the story of Fred Fisher is based, is in the Macarthur Region of NSW.
Thanks, Terry!
Cheers
David
Yes, the poem is in my book Skycatcher so it's been 'out there' for a while. Perhaps that's where you saw it. On the other hand, although nobody has ever actually sought permission to perform it, it's also quite possible you may have heard it somewhere. As Glenny (and others) have observed, there are some people who use poems without bothering with the courtesy of asking first...and even a few who don't worry about proper attribution. Put 'em in the stocks, I say! And yes, the legend of Fisher's Ghost is based on a true story, much as I've described it in the poem. If you want the full tale you can find a version of it at: http://www.campbelltown.nsw.gov.au/defa ... CatID=2029 I wrote the poem for the 2003 FAW Macarthur Region Bush Verse Competition because Campbelltown, where the story of Fred Fisher is based, is in the Macarthur Region of NSW.
Thanks, Terry!
Cheers
David