ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

This poem may suggest that all I did in my early days was fight. In fact it’s remarkable how few scraps I really did have back them (early to mid sixties), or even after, considering the environment where all this took place.
I’ve always felt that fighting was a mugs game to be avoided if possible at all cost. But as once happened when someone with a reputation for king hits leaps across a bed of coals swinging wildly for no good reason, the only thing that sprung to mind was to try and get in a couple of good ones first, if only to slow him down. Then hope the onlookers separated us before he managed to land a couple of his own – it was all because of booze of course


LEARNING THE ROPES

I still remember starting out; off in the bush and roundabout,
I’d led a pretty sheltered life with no idea what lay ahead.
You had to quickly earn respect and hold your tongue or end up decked,
the mining game was tough those days so you were careful what you said.

I’ve known some wild men in my day; as hard as nails as some would say,
they’d sooner fight than have a feed as many foolish blokes have found.
I’ve had to battle toe to toe; but I was young then long ago,
and though I tried to dodge a fight sometimes a man must stand his ground.

And fancy words will do no good although you wished to hell they would,
it takes a lot of tact to calm a bloke who’s spoiling for a fight.
And any sign of weakness then encourages the beast in men,
so best you learn to shelve your thoughts, that’s even though you know you’re right.

It’s all about respect you know, once earned most agro will soon go,
and blokes become the best of mates with lifetime friendships often made.
With age comes wisdom; so you hope, you learn to dodge the wild eyed dope,
and know a few well chosen words will often see his anger fade.

The language was a shock at first, but soon I too became well versed,
but seldom did you ever hear a swear word if a girl was near.
Mind you it’s rare or was back then, to see a girl; it’s mostly men
you found around the opal towns, and at the pub where they drank beer.

My life was great while I was there, with mates I’d found and times we’d share,
and it was hard to move away to follow dreams I had in mind.
I found them soon way of the track; that timeless land you find outback,
and loved the solitude out there with peacefulness that’s hard to find.

******
© T.E. Piggott

Good one Terry covers it well, I can relate to that in that era. I also thought it was a bit of a mugs game, I remember an old timer back then, telling me that even when you win you lose. He was pretty right on that count I reckon.

Ron

Terry wrote:but seldom did you ever hear a swear word if a girl was near.

When I was near some of the girls in uniform I heard some "language" ..it was the girls talking.

Violence is a mug's game all right Terry, well, not a game as recent events make clear.

That sounds like a lucky escape Terry. It's hard to imagine the Terry I know scrapping! (He wouldn't be able to get away now! )

That sorta stuff happened everywhere Terry. Us blokes with long hair and surfboards copped a fair bit.

My favourite saying was " go on and make ya first punch a good one cause it will be the last one ya get .

Got me out of a lot of trouble and thank god not many took me up on it.

Bob

G/day Ron,
The only fights I got into was when (and there weren't many) there wasn't any other option.
Mind you in fairness I was rarely picked on and fortunately I was only a moderate drinker - couldn't afford to be otherwise in those early days.

Hi Neville,
There was the odd occasion when a few harder type ladies visited town on business, I never had any contact with them myself. Couldn't have afforded to anyway and after what happened to some of the blokes on one occasion, I'm glad I didn't.

Cheers Terry

Hi Heather
I think my size helped a bit, the thuggish type tend to pick on blokes a bit smaller than themselves.
And once you earn a bit of respect that seems to help as well.
You're right I'd be battling to run away these days, mind you my reflexes have probably slowed a bit as well.

G/day Bob

It was the booze that caused most of the flareups and I tried to keep well clear of trouble if possible.
But mostly it was a good life out there those days. Fights and such things were a very minor distraction really.

Cheers Terry

A miner distraction!

I'm a moderate drinker too - must be why I avoided fights.

Great poem Terry... fights? I was the fastest runner in the district.
Wazza

Aaah, but you make up for it with your cooking skills Warren.