Best Bludger Poems
In the land of Oz, we're all fair dinkum,
Every bloke, Sheila and Healer too.
By crikey mate, if you get us started,
You'll regret the day I guarantee you.
In bonza days some may call hard yakka,
With an esky chockers and a barbie that blares.
Strewth! I tell you even our bogans are grouse,
Where else can you find platypodes and Koala Bears?
So spend an arvo or two and don't be a bludger,
Smoke a durry and blow the froth off a few.
You'll be saying "Man, that was a bloody ripper",
So get off your dunny and tell a furphy or two!
If you're thinkin' of comin' over, but not too sure,
Just have a go, ya mug, you may just find.
The best place to go walkabout and make new friends,
But don't be a goose and leave your goon bag behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We're as Aussie as "You Beaut",
We're as Aussie as the Holden ute.
We're as Aussie as a kangaroo,
We're as Aussie as we're "True Blue".
Foul fowl
I was staggering to the mall,
in my own decrepid way,
When I got accosted by a Shiela,
who shook my hand said ‘hey’,
Busy as a flustered bee,
I brushed her off today,
A parting quip from her it came,
“With rotten breath, I'd not be game,
To walk the streets, like sweet Igraine,
A toilet duck would drown in pain,
This bludger is insane,
Beware foul, fowl, hey, hay.”
Don Johnson
i have this affect on women....
The Red Devil, Bronco Johnson in 75
I lived in Morningside, moved in a massage parlor girl
2 kids a Kangaroo dog and a white rat called Merle (Greyhound roo catcher)
We had a druggie ambo man, so Wayne put her in his bed
And they’d be a smoking weed, the Ambo and Mildred
Of course she had a Bludger who lived on her wage of sin...(pimp)
So Wayne chased him out to work used my stock whip on young Jim
Seems she started working from the house, clients were coming in
Commonwealth Police watched the place, we went to New Farm slim
Jenny came to visit me and Wayne he had Estelle
I worked at the Hacienda and the Jet club as well (Bouncer)
Estelle was jealous, maybe Jane was on the side
Estelle married a 21 year old, 42 the blushing bride
Wayne went to the local café to get a burger feed
Said how you doing Charlie Brown to a dark and swarthy weed
Who said “I’m ok mate just take a plurry look,”
Car load on the footpath, all his brothers and a chook (shiela)
Rubbish dumped on the street, we had gone and seen
Soon we had some furniture and a washing machine
We shoved some fellas to get through, then in the boot she’d ride
Discovered later it was new, plastic on the wringer side
So Wayne went back to Charleville or maybe places north
To fly across the flooded creeks, fast for all he’s worth (60mph)
For the highway does a beckon, yes he’s still a driving on
And I surely really miss him and I can’t believe he’s gone
Don Johnson
Wife stealing cousin Wayne died of prostate in 07 ?
He had stolen my wife in 1998 :)
But them's the breaks hey:)
60 miles and hour across flooded creeks
As ye sow,
you get the maybe corn,
and reap,
the stinking uncooked prawn,
cos ye n me are slack ....
ones deed comes up to speed ,
like car on the racing track,
it comes around yes indeed,
next time it gives you a smack,
karma on the racetrack steed,
a hurting memory Jack,
why the silly bludger always bleeds,
elementary, it talks back....
Don
Destroyer ~ Poet
Contest Name 5TH POEM ON THE SOUP..
POISON! 1st first.
I was coming up from Tamworth, riding on a tired horse.
Past Barraba we wandered north, on a slow and dusty course.
Near Barraba I drew short rein, and paused to watch a sight.
A boy was thrown off again, a black horse
who'd buck and fight.
It's there I made an offer grim, to the
farmer and his son.
Swop you horses and I'll ride him,
with this bludger I'll have fun.
I mounted and he bucked away,
I spurred and drove him on.
I was the winner on the day,
cantered off and I was gone.
He was a black and evil thing,
he wouldn't give me half a chance.
He'd bite and kick like lightning, surely
buck and root and prance.
Saturday morning in Moree,
saw aunt Mona at the pub.
She said "get a paper for me",
said "I'll get it for you love."
Dirty Shirt Molloy got a paper
for me, for I couldn't leave the horse.
Black Poison rooted like a flea,
reefed his head up, used some force.
An Irish cop he grabbed the reins,
and held them in his hand.
Arrested us we had no brains,
he'd jail us both quite grand.
My spurs they gouged him proper,
the black lurched down the street.
He bucked and kicked the copper,
clean bowled him off his feet.
We galloped for the border
through a sea of clinging mud.
Coppers chased us in flivver,
to a river choked by flood.
So I dived him in the Gwyder,
off a steep sharp falling bank.
Then we surfaced horse and rider,
wet as shags from nose to flank.
Ride round the coppers came the order,
and bypass all the towns.
Swam the river at the border,
dodged the police, we'd lost those clowns.
Don Johnson
A true story of my father's visit to Tamworth Australia in 1936...
The black
crow sat on the
stump out front,
The old man heartily
swore,
He said you aint a
cunny funt,
Followed by the 12
guage roar,
Feathers flew and a
cold wind it blew,
And the cancer bit
some more,
Just a spit of
blood, not quite a
flood,
Cos death was
coming, sure,
Joe crow was arking
out the front,
And muttering soft,
caw, caw,
Aussie crows love
eyes you know,
An the bludger
wanted more,
The old man
staggered out the
front,
And threw a brick at
Joe,
And down he went the
cunny funt,
Flapped off the so n
so,
A pain intense did
commence,
In the yard he had a
fall,
Black birds a
circling stump and
fence,
The old man tasted
gall,
On coming round on
his chest he found,
Joe crow was
perching for,
His eyes to take,
make no mistake,
Black crow was set
to score,
Backhanded Joe way
cross the yard,
The old man said to
him,
Don't put my lights
out yet retard,
Till me lights are
low n dim,
Watch the reapers
black one on the
stump,
If he comes on by to
call,
Probably caw n ark
in his defence,
No ole Joe crow he
isnt dense,
Just loves a sweet
eyeball.
Don Johnson
I you are down and can't get up in the Aussie outback man,
Joe crow will circle want a snack, fore the the Dingoes an Goanna can....
Bogged animals lose their eyes to Joe when they get to weak to resist.
Old Ewes with new Lambs have Joe landing on then picking their Kidneys out too,
The weak must pay the black bird says, don't let it happen to you?
Little chant for ya...
bloody ciggie takes me breath,
the stinker comes between,
nicotene pfinger pokes ,
me dad is dead it means,
dont get so dead ice-scream.....
suck slack tobacco is the joke,
says the man from nicotene....
chant it babe........Don
~got to have a hobby hey,
suck a ciggie all the day,
reaper waits for the END of play,
dodge the bludger if you may :{-~
GOOD ON YA MATE:}
THANKS 2 JOHN L.....
Harry and George
Harry West and Georgie Leonard,
were climbing up the hump,
Hot lead was a falling down,
through yer hat and foot, ka-thump,
So steep were the sides,
dropped grenades, a bouncing fell,
Japanese held the hilltop,
with machine guns as well,
Till the Aussies got above em,
and grenaded em to hell,
And charged in amongst em,
squealing Japs did dodge away,
So many died for the Emperor,
on that bloody day,
The green was turned to red,
with a mouldy hay-like smell,
The one you got upon the breeze,
with the jungle Japanese,
Aussies learned to know it well,
A stink to say they’s nearby,
dodge his bullet for a spell,
plonk the bugger quickly,
or spike the bludger well,
Don Johnson
Ninety-nine Australians were killed in the battle of Eora Creek
in just a few days…in 1942...on Kokoda...
Drinking with Tood at StGeorge…
Lets drink to ole Tood Taylor,
who was full of it,
Prisoner of the Japanese,
had the scours just a bit,
So the Jap’s they had him a cooking ,
And the extra care he took ,
To help out with the flavour,
Squatting over the stew, the cook,
Said they thrived on his input,
It’s a bloody wonder,
cos he was sick, so crook.
then...
About as drunk as 40 cats,
We staggered from this bar,
Ole man said “that’s the mongrel get him,”
Whistleing upper cut, caused some stars,
He’d raped our old Grannie, Win,
And here he was, oh yeah,
Punched into air, his knees touched chin,
I know cos I was there,
Ole man wanted to hang him,
but we didn’t have a rope,
so he flogged an bashed the bludger,
as the Baird was sure to know it,
So we fell into the old tilly,
And then we staggered home,
Slept like the dead, King Billy,
An so I wrote this poem……..Don Johnson
Yes in the St George hotel getting paraletic, then righting wrongs on the footpath,
the Police didn't get the Baird, family said it didn't happen, and she died soon after.
angelic kisses from the missus,
no it wasn't she?
bludger had some spiky whiskas
awful bugger werent a 4 me,
watch out for dem shirt-tail lifters,
bugger off stop bugging me...
re: 'sweet nothings' Dave Williams...
good on ya mate.....Don
love is sweet, but incomplete,
if ya strike a gal
with whiskers neat:(
diving off the old black stump,
suiciding 4 the ground,
bloody cattle dog, is a biting me,
bringing about just half a frown,
6 feet down ought ta do it,
break me neck, get hammered ears,
off me rear you cattle bludger,
best 4 flying, don't intefere
uh oh im flying skimming,
wonder here bout me women,
kerlunk....aint a grinning....
the pancake punch....
bad headache, whats 4 lunch....
thanks Anthony Nutter
Don
So I used the magic sort-of- black,
Put a crimp in his bowel, painful Jack,
Thoughts are deeds, but they hit back,
In your next life I’m advising.
Just a little black in me face,
Reborn in Africa’s darkest race,
Born to suffer, no solace,
Ol crimped bowel with me rising.
So we become the best of friends,
Old enemy crimped, he still pretends,
A knowing look,his eyeball lends,
Watch this bludger, I’m surmising .
So use your visulation, only for the good,
Shrink the bulging Aorta, minds eye could,
Try to help the sick as you should,
No nastiness on your horizon.
Don Johnson