Best Adventureold Poems
I'll tell you a tale
of our own Devil's Island
and the demonic crash
of the waves in the swell.
The smell and the taste
of the ball breaking weather;
the ghosts that deliver
poor sailors to Hell.
We were out in the water
in the Magdalens
the wind plucked the ropes
of our rigging at sea.
We looked for a port
and saw many lights flashing
"That's old Devil's Island,"
said the skipper to me.
Tongues began hurling
their fierce imprecations
"to come to the island
safe landfall to thee."
But the skipper turned round
the ship with a vengeance,
"That old Devil's Island
will never get me."
I thought he was mad
to be scared of a legend
it was my first time
in a storm on the sea
and two men washed over
to Davey Jones locker
"God bless 'em, they'll rest now,"
the skip said to me.
Protesting the treatment
of two forlorn sailors
I said to the skipper,
"It's not very well."
"It's better," he said,
"that they're resting in Heaven
than entering into
the portals of Hell."
The wind lasted the night
then the voices did falter
the lights blinkered out
and I saw very well
so many rocks, jagged
just waiting to smash us
the Devil's Isle gateways
await in the swell.
If you're on a ship
and the voices of demons
come tell you it's safe
in their harbor a lee
remember the shoreline
at old Devil's Island
then turn the ship seaward
and gracelessly flee.
Lake Eliza 2...
Out near dusty Lake Eliza
Lived sweety tart, where flies are
Sucked oddly Emu eggs some sunny days
Like a dozen egg appetiser (1 egg = 1 dozen fowl egg)
She got em off the miser
Rotten eggs old Emu walked away (in disgust)
Of course she had a rooster
Who had a name like Zac the Brewster
Who was always a riding the duck
So she shot him with a trap gun…(3/4” water pipe)
12 gauge lead did flatten one
Rooster on toast laughed ol Chuck
A Sand goanna lame
wanted eggs just the same
So he crawled into the chook house for a feed (fowl abode)
Duck Chuck saw him there
spat n shat n tore his hair
rode the old Goanna yes indeed
So we leave ol Lake Eliza
without being any wiser
just beware of Ducky Chuck
and the ol tart that lingers
and the rancid smelly dingus
just rotten emu eggs you’re out of luck Don Johnson
Cap’n Thunderbolt
The moon stood out
Any traps about
Cap’n Thunderbolt did ask
He was on the road again
Brown snake for break-in-fast
The Drover said they went way north
Blacktracker with em eh
Following your week old tracks, old mate
When you robbed the coach and dray
So back over his tracks he cantered then
And followed the Traps all day
Just to confuse the Tracker
To make him earn his pay
He left Beeswing in a paddock
And rode old Combo today
These horses were good racing stock
Fast horse flesh to gallop away
Combo’s tracks weren’t known yet
By the tracker on his trail
And friends were hiding, not to fret
More racing blood I say
He crossed the border at Hebel
And worked horse breaking for pay
Currawillinghi had him on the books
For months fore he rode away
Some say he was shot by Constable Walker
Near Uralla on an 1870 day
Others say shot was his uncle
To the US he sailed away
Don Johnson
Fred Ward was Thunderbolt his statue is at Uralla
There is some doubt if he died or not when with the Traps he shot it out. An 1871 American
state census shows that a Frederick Ward (file #SC 289) and a Sarah Shepherd (file #SC
319) both arrived in America in late 1870. This seems to be an amazing coincidence
Saddle old Brownie
A saddle on me old brown horse,
To ride away into the sunset,
Light swag on me old pack of course,
Nother horse called my Regret.
Carry flour for damper or tasty fried scones,
Sugar n tea, few spuds n onions,
Carry a stockwhip to flog off the dogs,
Or galahs with the loony some ones.
Camp every night by blazing fire light,
Out where the Coolabahs sway,
Dip water from the river and boil,
Gumleaf smelling tea today.
Seach for mussels at the waters edge,
Put him on the hook today,
Catch em a cod, good tucker by God,
Spit out the bones I may,
Protein n calcium hey….
Don Johnson 20-july-11
Bronco Don Johnson and Bally Watson...
Oh they speak of Bally Watson and the Dirran boys don't laugh...
Yet they tell in whispers how his ear was shot in half...
Old Bronco Don had shot him for everyone to see...
Witnesses could not be found though the coppers asked all three...
Bally he bolted, drove fast to get away...
For a bullet had his number, safer up old Mitchell way...
Yes it was in the fifties an old soldier got a win...
Don was locked up for the night for the drunken driving sin...
Don had been to Kokoda and the Middle East war too...
He was quick on the trigger mate and never missed, they knew....
A mob had come to bash him, back in nineteen forty five...
Dons down the stairs a shooting quick, they were glad to be alive...
7 years had come and gone, Bally appeared they say...
Sent word he wanted to see old Don out the Culgoa river way...
Mark John went as backup a rifle in his hand...
Mark did cover the drovers, shoot low was the command...
Bally got no permission was told to stay away...
Just bypass the town is what old Don did say...
So Bally is known throughout the west ...
the earmark worn by him...
The Sheriff really did his best ...
To make his ear hole ring...
When you get a car door slammed on your head ?..
Broken cheek bone!...
You might get tempted to shoot a man dead ...perhaps..... ..Don Johnson
Pickles met a woman in town who complained about him saying she needed a martingale to
keep her head down . (Horsemen and women will know a martingale has a connection to the
bridle to stop a horse jerking up its head sometimes possibly smacking the rider in the
nose. Also it looks better if the horse doesn't do a Giraffe impression .) So pickles
said no missus I said you would need 2 martingales to keep your head down, one just
wouldn't do the trick.
One of the Dirranbandi characters Jack Laughton was heard to utter with a grin , how
would you like that old bat to fart on your last cup of flour?
The vicks
Johnson is me poor old name,
Brisbane town is where I’m staying,
Had 100 jobs I’m saying,
A some times Diversional Therapist.
(entertain the old n decrepid)
Tried burying for half a week,
Wouldn’t let me smile, or squeak,
Drove a council bus,
punched out a few,
Who’d fight, no fuss.
Bouncer in the Valley,
Loved the chicks,
Woke up in strange beds with hicks
Accidently used the vicks,
Talk about the ring of fire?
Don Johnson 21-july-11
tracie edwards
Contest Name Getting to know you
Old Flossy
by Don Johnson
Brisbane-Australia
It was there on Sharpen station, ....(ranch)
west near Adavale i'd be.
Back in the early thirties,
worst drought you'd ever see.
Five thousand cows were dying slow,
brought from lake Nash to Adavale. ....(droving trip)
They lived on mulga bushes low, ...........(13% tree leaves drought food)
to feed their bodies frail.
I was the boy who manned the pump,
fat crows in thousands waited.
With not a blade of grass or single clump,
those crows for sure i hated.
The cattle bitsa old flossy had nine pups,
more company for me.
For i'd get a visit once a month,
yes it's then the boss i'd see.
The dead cows around the trough did lie,
and i'd snig them right away.
I'd shifted hundreds by and by,
cut and quartered where they lay.
The pups were disappearing fast,
one every day for sure.
I checked the camp and missed the last,
saw snake tracks upon the floor.
Old Mulga snake would breathe no more,
he'd had his last pup meal.
He was big as nine foot four,
when the last pup he did steal.
Old flossy fought him tooth and nail,
he'd bit her also too.
She chewed his head off didn`t fail,
was dying this she knew.
I held her dying with my arm,
her pleading eyes i saw.
She went to sleep so very calm,
passed on through death's front door.
in 1936 old yellow flossy died game!
In this lonely place with death all around you, it was tragic for young Don to lose his
dog. Aussie shepherds (cattle dogs) will defend you, camp on your doorstep.
So I’m building a spaceship,
But where should I start?
When the spaceship I’m building
Is made out of art
Books for the seats
And paintings for the walls
Cause this type of spaceship
Goes nowhere at all
I do not want it to
Why should it go?
To travel to space,
Where I do not know?
When in my own room
There’s mystery and tale
In pages of books
In pictures on nails
I will set up two chairs
Connect them by sheets
Webster can help me
With good wordy seats
I will need a good staff
I will need a good crew
To narrate our path
To guide us all through
Virgil can help
He’s a good guide
He knows the maps
Of the spiritual side
And there’s only one doctor
I could put to good use
The greatest of time
The old Dr. Seuss
A friend of Ernest
Our pilot to be
An old timey sailor
A man from the sea
A hatch I will make
Of a copied Van Gogh
The stars through the door
Oh how they will glow
Our ship will be waterproof
So that’s no concern
But in case there’s a problem
I will bring Jules Verne
A clock I have seen
That hung in the hall
Created by Dali
Will make up a wall
I believe that is it
That’s all I will need
I’ve got my good paintings
I’m ready to read
Oh no but wait
I almost forgot
Shakespeare, get in
We’re about to take off!
And away we go
On a journey tonight
To return tomorrow
At mornings light
Rum bottle nods with sanction
on gentle sway
The old dog spat snuff juice
that took wind
Puffins drift below the haze
Cape Flattery
is no tale
Chocolate on a white man,
the solitary wile
brackish breeze
wanders along impressions,
dints in a sea chiseled face
Heads pressed vigorously
to confine what coat resembles
beneath salted rags
Today he lives as Makah
Fair-haired;
Stained by sun and sea
Brows fall low
to hush the truth
conveyed by green eyes
Sun at high noon
jump back from the fluid sapphire
The sea, it whispers
never a lie
Sea lions yap
Snuff juice took wind
Towards Tatoosh Island
rigid draft pushes stares
Aged salt grinned at old thoughts
A child hugs heavy thighs
and bawls
It is hard for him to witness
What these elements can do to a man
Rum
Sea,
and sun
Tiny, angel faced, fuzzy headed, little girls with baggy pants, bowed legs, toddling about.
A Wet Minnie Mouse towel hanging on a makeshift clothesline,
alongside others with college logos's and Elvis ;
Fifty something year old women in skimpy, ill fitted bathing suits,
unaware that gravity has shifted when they were not looking ;
Noisy, gas, golf carts loaded with teenage boys,
looking for golf carts loaded with teenage girls ;
Pot bellied, old men looking at golf carts full of teenage girls...wistfully ;
A big swimming pool full of screaming kids, splashing and pushing
their very best pal under the water ;
Cooking aroma's wafting through the park at five o'clock each evening ;
Camp fires burning until dawn ;
Fat ladies eating huge piles of ice cream stacked on a cone,
vowing to diet next week ;
a young couple with two babies renting a cheap, on-sight camper,
waiting for fancier digs, when they hit the lottery ;
A young father, beer bottle in hand, pushing a child in a stroller round and
round the park, until the baby falls asleep ;
Old men pulling into the park with rigs costing more than a house,
not to be out done by the guys that came before them.
I LOVE CAMPING !!!
Big ol Billy
Near old Dirran, on the river, an old time pub had its day. ..
Billy Richards was the owner, had a rupture so they say. ..
There he sold the watered whisky and the rum to all who'd pay...
Earned a quid and made a nest egg till the Murrays' came his way. ..
Sitting on his front verandah chanting
calling laughing low, .."Big ol Billy, Big ol Billy," soon the rum began to flow. ..
So enlarged was Billy's rupture, so apparent his dismay, ..
every time the chanting started, fiery rum, he'd have to pay...
In the early nineteen hundreds medicine was touch and go, ...
poisons nasty, drugs so deadly, all were used by the medico...
Not the knife for Big ol Billy, fifty fifty die that way. ..
Better get another keg, stop the Murray's chanting, hey? ...
The Murray's were Aboriginal people living on the Murray river.near the south west
Queensland town of Dirranbandi.
Sponsor Brian Strand
Contest Name 1-14 any theme /form max 14 LINES
Was it Saxony Asia or Asia Saxony?
Was it Saxony Asia or Asia Saxony?
From Japan to Germany Rotarian so many!
An occasion for mix up of cultures irrespective of race & creed for world understanding
High quality entertainment, food for the thought and of course. taste buds pandering
With Rotary Governor, Saxony prime minister and the Prince all standing
At the podium, to share their feelings, thoughts and key message motivating
From the new BMW factory, enchanting Glashutte to Volks W’s transparent factory
The outstanding symbols of revival of the glory of good old days of Saxony
A woodwork museum of Daetz to depict symbolic representations of religions since ages
An exclusive collection of art and culture backed by singing and dancing outrages
The last dinner was a special treat with aurora of rich culture old and new
Participation of Prince Alexandar and all sundry and entertainment of all hew
With classic band and dances, the compere was also a person of class
His touches of humor made paper man’s ‘tricks and Japanese dance nicely pass
A sitting in the church of lady on the last day was soul enriching
And briefing of the guide of city tour, a lady of letters, truly bewitching
Our experience surpassed of all in past if any
So we say, was it Saxony Asia or Asia Saxony?
I think you have
An old soul inside
That reveals itself
Only to me
You embrace me
Knowing that
I need you to
Girl of my womb
Your hair soft
Under my nose
And you squeeze
Me so tight
As if you've known
Me longer than
Your six years
Your old soul
Warming mine
Dirranbandi plonking
27Australians and a shearer came to bash Bronco Don in 1945
He was just back from Kokoda killing Japs to stay alive
Some carried beer bottles and others 2 handed sticks
I was in hospital being born while Don he got his kicks
It was enough to put a bull camel off his dinner camp
And the richosheying bullets hummed and wizzed and danced
Down the high stairs he came laughing with old threoh shooting quick
10 shots amongst the bashers the goona it was thick (faeces)
Much screaming as they left the yard running up the gravel road
Reloading he bounced bullets between a shearer and the toad.
The locals thought he celebrated the birth of a son
Others thought the war was almost being won
But in the pub the gravel rash was checked for bullet holes
And the boys sucked and drank old fourex got a priest to save their souls.
Don Johnson 2.45 am 14-march-2011
Don Johnson enjoyed fisticuffs And In the forties
The Goodooga footballers came to Dirran for a boxing match, Old Jack McKay would poke em into line with a billiard cue while Bronco Don and Bushman Hoath fought em one at a time. The day of the shooting
with the shearer Don had knocked out 6 men and piled the up in a heap. The copper said “what are you doing with them”. “I’ll burn them” said Don “Too green to burn said the copper”reinforcements and revenge that night, perhaps? Don Johnson
Rodger Beadmore
While a droving out near Bollon at about the forty mile, (1950s)
just a following sheep through the lime bushes dense.
Moving down the stock route, a feeding all the while.
By and by shortly we passed through Beadmore's boundary fence.
Old Rodger an Aboriginal soon appeared upon the route,
A character well known for charm and sense,
Yes Rodger came to keep their sheep from getting out.
And to put his strays back through their boundary fence.
The old man said to Rodger, "waters a bit light".
"How far do you reckon is it to the next boredrain?"
He knew that Rodger just couldn't read or write,
But Rodger good old Rodger, he told him just the same.
He said "Not far not far mate, big straight road all the way."
"You'll be there by and by directly later on today!"
Now he said to Rodger "Here's a gun go shoot us a roo."
So Rodger wandered off to get our dogs a feed.
But later on when he came back, said he'd seen a big roo too.
He said "I shoot him nine times and I miss him every time."
Old Beadmore in bad temper sometimes gave Rodger the sack,
but before he left the place the boss lady hired him back.
Though one might sack and send him a walking down the track ,
the other'd come and fetch him he was family this man black.
by D Johnson ...of our mate Rodger ...
Rodger as a small child had been found on a water hole in the gulf country north west
Queensland. Rodger traveled in a saddle bag on Dougal Camerons pack horse till he came to
the St George area, where the story says he was swopped for a grey horse, to Mr E
Beadmore. See soup Dougal Cameron for more....