ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

I wrote this poem for the Open category of the Toolangi CJ Dennis Poetry Competition, but it didn't make the final cut. (You are only allowed two entries per category.)

The Ghost

© Stephen Whiteside 19.03.2011

Intro:
I was walking through Toolangi on one clear and starry night,
When the ghost of CJ Dennis crossed my way.
I stifled my first impulse (just to turn and run in fright),
‘Cause I wondered if he’d anything to say.

Me:

Hello there! CJ Dennis! What a wonderful surprise!
(My knees were knocking twenty to the dozen.
I wondered if he guessed it as he stared into my eyes,
While inside me scone me brain was fairly buzzin’.)

I never thought I’d meet you in this fashion, face to face.
I thought I’d have to settle with your books.
You summon up a lovely world of finery and lace,
And fashion handsome heroes out of crooks.

I’ve pored through all your letters. They are on the internet.
Your prose is gently jocular, and straight,
Unlike the language of the ‘Bloke’ - the strangest lingo yet.
It makes me feel a hundred years too late.

Did they really use that vocab in the lanes of Little Lon?
Are you hon’rable or not in your intention?
For if your eyes are twinkling, it’s a very handsome con.
You’d score top marks from all for sheer invention.

It makes me ponder sometimes. Should I borrow from the ‘Bloke’?
Should I speak a bit less formal, more ‘vernac’?
I was taught to speak my English in the way it should be spoke.
For swearing, I just haven’t got the knack.

I have this deep foreboding (and I know it’s mad as sin)
That if I swear the flames of earth will rise,
A fiery pit surround me, where I’ll promptly topple in,
And the frantic heat of Hell will burn my eyes.

But if I try to shrug it off (I’ve done it once or twice)
The end result’s not pretty to behold.
I tend to overdo it. The effect just isn’t nice -
‘Vulgar’s’ how I sound, instead of ‘bold’.

There’s a balance to be struck here, and you manage it so well,
For Bill, though rough, retains a certain charm.
He’s never really vicious, for he weaves you in his spell,
And he doesn’t ever trigger true alarm.

So, I ask, will you forgive me if I do not take your path,
Or I take the path of ‘Dennis’, not of ‘Bill’?
For every time I try it there’s an ugly aftermath,
And I assure you, it is not for lack of will.

Outro:
My knees had ceased their knocking, and my mind was clear and calm.
I’d stopped to hear what words he had to say.
No syllable he’d uttered, yet he’d held me in his palm,
Then let me go, and sent me on my way,

And his eyes conveyed the message I was so pained to receive.
I needn’t toss and turn, or agonise.
I shouldn’t try to find a trick hid somewhere up my sleeve.
To speak the way I wished would be most wise.

Interesting comment, Marty. Perhaps you're right. In the end, I decided not to submit this poem, because I wasn't sure it was such a great poem. I thought I'd post it today in a response to your 'call for numbers', but I might have been better off leaving it in my bottom drawer after all!

Fair enough. My point when I was writing the poem was that his slang stuff is not really my favourite of his work. I find it a bit laboured and contrived. It's entertaining enough in its own way, I just find his more naturalistic work more enjoyable. People always associate Dennis with slang these days (or usually), which is a bit of shame, I reckon. I'm thinking Book for Kids, Glugs of Gosh, Singing Garden. None of these have much in the way of slang in them, and they contain some great stuff.

Having said all of that, I'm also divulging some personal secrets in the poem about the rather oppressive nature of my Presbyterian upbringing. There are aspects of that I've long given up any hope of ever escaping!

I suppose it wasn't overtly fire and brimstone, but it was pretty strict and scary. I guess my imagination just did the rest.

Who knows where dancing can lead to? Pretty soon you're sipping cups of tea together!

Pity you judged your poem like you said Stephen.
I think it is excellent. I would have given it every chance of an award. It is imaginative and original I reckon.

Thanks, Neville. You could be right. Sometimes you just have to make a decision and live with it, don't you. Can't sweat over these things. Perhaps when the results are announced I'll post the poems I DID submit, and you can tell me if you think I judged it right!