ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

I was thinking about both Manfred’s and Neville’s recent post regarding meter.
I then started to think of just why I use a particular meter depending on the poem.
A few years ago we were up on the Ashbuton prospecting during a really bad drought.
During that period I wrote 2 main poems ‘The Ugly Side Of drought’ which was quite successful and used 16 syllable lines with internal rhymes every second line and line 1 & 3 etc also rhyme, a pretty common way of writing. The other poem ‘Tough Times – at the dead finish’ was written with just the standard 14 syllable lines. Reading that poem again I’m convinced this was the right meter for this poem – a case of horses for courses so to speak.
I may have posted an early version of this poem on the old Forum, so here is the latest version, see what you think and this is a true story
This is not meant to dispute any of what has been written, just perhaps adding to the discussion.

Terry


TOUGH TIMES AT ‘THE DEAD FINISH’

East winds have blown for five days straight and strengthened with each gust
and adding to our misery, the air is thick with dust.
A red haze shrouds the distant hills and blankets too the sun
and work is at a standstill ever since this gale begun.

Our camp is battered daily by this unrelenting blast,
it covers all that’s in its path as each new gust howls past.
Dusk brings some easing of the wind, or so it seems at least,
then roars back in next morning blowing gale force from the east.

We curse these long hot days of drought and watch the sky in vain,
for eighteen months have now passed by without a drop of rain.
The land’s stripped bare of forage, not a blade of grass remains
and cattle bellow mournfully out on the barren plains.

Death stalks the creeks and gullies and around the many mills,
where stock are dying daily as they trek in from the hills.
And though we’ve only come this way in hope of finding gold,
it’s hard to now ignore the grisly sights that we behold.

At last the wind and dust storms ease which brings us some relief,
we make the most of this respite; it’s likely to be brief.
The days are hot and tiring still but we don’t really mind;
at last we search for nuggets though they’re getting hard to find.

We comb the creeks and hillsides out through country steep and rough,
where limbs cry out for mercy and your body screams, “Enough”.
The creeks are full of prickle bush that tears our clothes to bits,
you need to be of hardy stock and not the type who quits.

The gold is small and hard to find, but still we press ahead,
six weeks of this should see us right and hold us in good stead.
Our tally’s growing daily and we’re hoping to find more,
but things have changed a lot these days, from what they were before.

Night brings with it a welcome break from day-time’s hectic pace
and for awhile at least, it hides the harshness of this place.
We reminisce of days long past before this drought took hold
and ponder when it will return to pleasant days of old.

The chilling cries of dingoes’ often echo through the night,
a savage predawn serenade that ushers in first light.
Their calls are all around the camp before the break of day,
but as the sun begins to rise, their howling fades away.

Dawn sees the camp begin to stir to start another day,
and soon we’ll search the creeks and hills out where the nuggets lay.
And though our hearts are hardened now by horror’s viewed so far,
that scene is still a gruesome sight, out where the dead cows are.

I’ve climbed the highest hills and viewed what seemed a scene from hell,
so harsh and unforgiving yet so beautiful as well.
Eventually a cyclone will transform this land once more,
the heavens then will open up; you’ll hear the rivers roar.

But all that lies ahead in time; it could take years or more,
meanwhile the country’s ravaged from the hills to valley floor.
Though this was once a special spot I always had enjoyed;
until this drought is over, it’s a place I’ll now avoid.

The wind begins to pick up blowing from the east again.
our work out here is finished, and there’s still no sign of rain.
We pack our few possessions, then we start off down the track,
and live in hope there’ll be some rain before we next come back.

We pause down at the turn-off for a final look about,
and view the desolation brought on by the years of drought.
Where once we’d seen this country, when draped in its finest gown,
it’s just a barren landscape now, two hundred miles from town.

++++++

© T.E. Piggott

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Goodonya Terry. That's your way of looking at it. I certainly don't argue that what is done here shouldn't be done. Only that we should encourage our poetry friends to try different approaches from time to time.

I hope you found some nuggets worthwhile after all that agony.

G/day Neville
I’m not disputing what you’re on about, I use a lot of different meters myself but I have always felt that no matter what meter or rhyming pattern is used you have to have a good poem to go with it. If the poem is not up to scratch it doesn’t matter how you dress it up it’s still a dud.
I also think we forget that the ordinary person is not even vaguely interested in the inner workings of poetry, so who are we trying to impress. If we spend too much time naval gazing ourselves so to speak, we may lose the simple pleasure of reading and writing in a way that suits us individually.
By all means if we’re trying to improve our writing why not just try to get a little more poetic with our writing.

Perhaps there is no right or wrong way to do it, what seems right for one may not for another?

Cheers Terry

very good points Terry, one of the reasons I don't enter comps is because I can't be bothered conforming with the technicalities just to please the judges, and often it just doesn't say what I want it to then anyway.

Sometime ago I wrote a poem called "Tyele" about a young girl I met who is a victim of a road accident and will never be able to walk, look after herself etc. it took me sometime to get it onto paper so I was happy with it. I was very surprised at how little comment it attracted when I posted it on here compared to some more conventional stuff I have posted.

It also still amazes me to think I sold, or should I say we sold, 2,500 copies of our book which wouldn't have a poem in it that would win a competition, it just happens to be something that people like to read...and most as you say, "...not even vaguely interested in the inner workings of poetry,"

Horses for courses I suppose.

Couldn't agree more Ross.

G/day Ross
I reckon if you're not enjoying the experience you're not doing it right.
I've always believed you should always retain your own individuality that's what makes humans unique.

I sometimes wonder if we can get too evolved to the point we'll never be satisfied and I wonder is that the reason free verse came about.
Still it's always interesting to see other opinions from people who have obviously put a lot more thought into it than me.

I agree with you Ross that there are times when writing for Comps we occasionally use a second choice word instead of our preferred option. Top judges will tell us that we should keep searching to find a way to use the word so it passes the test, but to the person who is writing the poem it may never sound right unless written his own way and after all it is his poem and that's what counts.

Cheers terry

After having read your post terry and having seen some of what you have written about I have come to the conclusion that many writers have never seen the real true outback bush in it's ugly pathetic glory and that is what it can be ugly in real truth. As Ross wrote words that judges deem as great really don't portray the honest feeling that is there in the works of that writer. That is why my writing is frowned upon by the confines of the R, R & metre. good on you ROSS and TERRY you write what you feel good for your selves and what people enjoy and to hell with comps.


THE OLD BATTLER BILL WILLIAMS

Terry, if by " the inner working " you mean the technicalities, then the ordinary person doesn't need to understand. The poet does.
When you go to see a movie, are you concerned about the technicalities of the acting craft. No. But the actors are.

Who are we trying to impress. The listeners or the readers of course. Not with our technical skill but with what comes from our heart to speak to their hearts.
You don't go to the movies to be impressed by the actor's ability to do method acting. You go to be moved, to be amused, to be roused, to be intrigued.
But if the actor hasn't paid attention to their craft, you may experience nothing of any particular worth.

Same with poetry, if we don't pay attention to the craft, to the technical workings then we won't have that fine tuning of language that moves, amuses, interests or impassions the listener. Story telling can be done by prose or verse equally as well, poetry can only be done by poetry.

Fair enough Neville.

Cheers Terry

You didn't say whether you found any nuggets in that desolate place