ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Heather said I needed to get some culture inta me.

I did try.

Poetic Licence

Now I've been writing poems for years
and the subjects do they vary.
Sometimes they tell of out back feats
or just stories that are scary.

I might write about a dunny
or Aunt Mary's Christmas cake,
a dog that chases whirlwinds
or adventures with a snake.

I've told of jobs I've worked at
of friends I've met mate in my time.
but every poem I've every written
had some metre, beat and rhyme.

I tend to write of life and loves
of things that happen every day,
ya know just plain old Aussie yarns
from now or yesterday.

So it was a great surprise to me
I got an invite, yeah just me.
To come and read some poetry
down at the local gallery.

Now I'm a real bush poet
and pretty boisterous can I get.
So I was not sure that in I'd fit
with that high browed poet set.

Inside the room they all sat down
I gazed about in sheer dismay.
The youngest looked near 80
yeah well give or take a day.

I slid into the back row
took off my old Akubra hat.
Then I sat there quietly hiding
like a mouse does from a cat.

The procession of old ladies
up to the podium did steal.
They read of love and pretty things
it seemed so dammed surreal.

They recited pretty Sonnets
in soft voices did they peal.
The audience sat dozing
I thought "is this for bloody real".

Then at last my turn had come around
and from my chair I rose in fear.
I wished that I was at the pub
with a few mates swilling beer.

But I'd said that I would do it
and I'm a man that keeps my word.
So I fastened my Akubra down.
and went to face that aged hoard.

I launched straight into my first poem
in decibels so clear and loud.
The ladies sat in wide eyed silence
my voice echoed through the crowd.

"Bastard" raised some eye brows
did this man just have no class.
But I thought all hell had broken loose
when I let fly with an arse.

I only did one poem that day
cause it all seemed rather wrong.
Then they brought on chamber music
to play a gentle lilting song.

So I sat there in the corner
and at the first chance I crept away.
I don't know if they enjoyed it
I did not give them time to say.

Bush poetry is unique ya know
it has rhyme and metre to it.
Though it may get a little loud at times
with words like hell and shit.

I've read books by Banjo Paterson
and Henry Lawson's sure to please.
Their poems just roll straight off your tongue
with fluidity and ease.

And I know I raised some eye brows
with the polished poet set.
But their style just does not suit me
their meanings I can't get.

And I suppose they do have passion
as they pour things from their heart.
I've tried at times to pen the same
but I just don't know where to start.

But I think now that I've figured out
why they do poems that are sublime.
Yeah I reckon that not one of them
knows how to make them bloody rhyme.


Bob Pacey ( C )

Great poem Bob. Horses for courses and always judge your audience.

That was a little while back Vic and I now do at least three meetings a year and they actually hava a country music and bush poetry session once a year.

Nice ladies just did not know how to laugh v


Now they do


Bob

Yep good one Bob,
Sounds like all they needed was learnin' a bit of 'Kouth & Kulture' and you were just the bloke to help them out by the sound of things!
Ron

Being single helped as well Ron. Randy old buggers


Bob