Cobber Poems

Can It, Aussie Style - Antipodean, Not European

It's enough to make one chunder
there used to be a time Down Under
when fair dinkum the label on the tucker tin
only stated the true blue maker's name
and the Vegemite we'd eat for brekkie contained therein
while not a porky implied mate there's something to hide
with a shonky no responsibility disclaimer
I’m spewin’ cranky as today's focus is on what's not inside
no GMO cholesterol additives gluten calories caffeine nuts
no added colouring sugar preservatives
no artificial sweeteners monounsaturated
no polyunsaturated &/or trans fats
and bloody oath cobber that's not all as I recall
no worries tho' there's also low sodium
not whingeing but one wonders if it's a dodgy admission
there's no bonzer thingo within such as ace nutrition
meanwhile I'll fill my billycan from yon billabong
surrounded by a few emu and a roo or two
as up a gum tree the kookaburra laughingly looks on
there's nothing more I can do so may as well
bung another shrimp on the barbie blow the froth off a few
have one last blast on me didgeridoo Blue and shoot through

true blue pride

under this southern sky we all should adore
for this land has never burned with any war.

our life has always been one that is free
free from dictatorship...free from tyranny.

under the southern cross we show our true pride
from the desert plains to beyond the great divide.

under the blazing sun we play, work, sweat and toil
say "she`ll be right" when life spins with great turmoil.

our way is to add O or IE to many shorten words
to outsiders it must sound off beat...so absurd.

our friends we call every bad word under the sun
no offence taken...they know it`s only a bit of fun.

" `ken oath, he`s a drongo" a true blue knows what that means
from Tassie to the Territory...and everywhere in between.

coooee cobber...fair dinkin` your such a galah
we shouted out from our beat up holden car.

whether at a BBQ or down by the sea
it's an ice cold tinny for you...and for me.

our flag is one flown on flag poles oh so high
one we should respect...show our one true pride.

so let's all come together and be as one
in this land...under...the southern sun.

............
*to all the Aussies have a bonza day on Jan 26...and have a coldie for me

The Australian

Ben is Australian, a BBQ king,
Burning and scorching meat is just his thing.

He came from Aus some years ago, and met his own lovely English rose.

He still has an accent, but has learnt to call his friends mate, instead of just cobber,
He loves fly fishing because you carry less clobber.

Ben's prefect day would be to catch a trout,
Then BBQ it and share it about

The Young Fisherman

His long cane pole limber and perfect,
Patiently waiting, his eye on the bobber
For his prey, he has the utmost respect,
The big fish almost becoming his cobber.
He’d seen it swim among the rocks alone
Unmindful of its nemesis on the bank
The water clearer, he could see the stone, 
He longed to hook it firmly, give it a yank.
Four times before he’d watched it feed
Once in the rocks, thrice in the shallows
A great catch it would surely fulfill a need
To cement his place among his fellows,
But the sun now approaching mid-morn
Signaled he was too late to catch today,
Beaming on the fisherman with scorn
No prize catch would there be to filet.

Written August 15, 2022

Pals

I remember a group of little ones
Playing in the sun having fun
Each one a mate and a cobber true
All having a say in what we’d do

We grew to care for each other specially
Inseparable together laughing so easily
Alan was the best sportsman 
Playing football and cricket was at his command

As we grew we knew that life was good
Making our way together as mates should
Growing up we started to go our separate ways
But the bond was made for all our days

One day they found something was wrong
And Alan fought cancer so long and strong
Finally he passed on at eighteen
Then the group is missing one not again to be seen

We all have mates that come and go
As we go through life and its show
But there are only a few true mates
And we are at the call of life’s fates.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Miltons Stray-Cation

Florida is definitely in the USA 
I’m kinda worried because Milt will soon be on his way
I found a map and studied it and found a ‘Melbourne’ there
I hope he gets the right plane or he could get quite a scare
So if Milt disembarks the plane and gathers up his clobber
I hope some Shiela doesn’t ask him, ‘How ya doing, Cobber!’

But fear not, Milton, if it happens, you’ll know what to do
Just dial zero, zero, zero, option eighty two
That’s should get a special secret agent sounding man
Just say the coded sentence which is simply, ‘I need Gran.’

Turbo Gran will meet you in her Speedy ice cream van
Her secret code will be to wink and say, ‘I need a man’
You say, ‘I need chocolate sauce, for chocolate sauce is best’
She’ll take you and your luggage and she’ll drop you at Key West

From there though, you’ll be on your own, for I must tell you that
They’ve got crocodiles and they’ll try to eat her cat
But Nitro-Cat will sort them out for he’ll know what to do
Which means that we can only hope those crocs do not eat you

Happy holiday Milt!

Mountain Plains Present Skies-

Mountains are higher than the plains;
Plainly seen are the distance and present skies;
Skiing those things than presently seen;
Peaks the visage horizon stains;
~
Oceans seas sink the table water streams;
Streaming is the voltage reefs;
Cave caverns distance beams;
Cobber stone pebble marbled feet;
~
Mountains are higher than the plains;
Plainly seen are the distance and present skies;
Skiing those things than presently seen;
Peaks the visage horizon stains;

10/16/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©

Crikey

Crikey

The fires are burning out of control
All hands on the pumps
Let’s Rock and Roll
Crikey was the Fireman’s name
And putting out fires was his game
He was here, there and everywhere
Crikey was a cobber, a friend and
Most of all, a Volunteer
From Sun-up to Sunset, he was never late
And always greeted you with a smile
And a “Gidday Mate”
Crikey would like to thank you all for your support
Special thanks to Nick Kyrgios and his sport
New Zealand sends our thoughts and prayers 
To Crikey and all the other Volunteers

The Aussie Pie

Such a compact meal
To an Aussie the real deal
Square, round or oval be in it
Just add sauce and don’t let it drip

Eat the corner and suck it in
The gravy and meat delicious then
And once you’ve mastered this you’ll say
Cooee cobber it’s on your menu always.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Walk Then Fall

WALK THEN FALL
                                       By James Edward Lee

                    Walk these cobber stone paths of unrighteousness alone
                  I stumble trip I fall all onto the diverse grounds covered up
                with the dust, gravel, concrete, and dirt that surrounds us all

A Lost Cobber

I heard it in the evening
As I vetted reports in the office
The sun was waning
And the air was cool

A friend of his came in to say
You had died from your own hand
The life you led as a copper had done you in
And I am left to wonder now how it happened.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Our Digger

It was a bright cold sunny morning
The mist lifted without warning
As we walked through the cemetery gate
It had been nearly a hundred years wait

Outside of the Ieper Menin Gate
We had come to honour you, mate
About a kilometre down the Menin road
You marched this way with your pack and rifle load

But counter battery fire had put paid to you
When you died with your mates too
And you lay so long asleep
With now a promise we did finally keep

To visit you from Australia the Great Southern land
Keeping a family promise made long ago without demand
Honouring a fallen Digger lying far from his home
In Belgium's sacred soil 
"Good on you, cobber" you've finished your earthly toils.

If I Could Talk To the Aussies

I have a couple of internet Friends in Australia
We like to joke around some, so I wrote them this,
To the tune of "Talk To The Animals"  (Dr. Dolittle)


If I could talk to the Aussies
just imagine it
Babbling to a Bloke, in Blokaneses
Imagine Bantering with Bludgers
Chatting to a Cobber
What a neat achievement that would be

If I could talk to the Aussies
Learn all their dialects
Maybe get an Aussie slang degree
I'd study Cone Toad and Dag
Galah, Dill and Bag
And of course Ab-bor-rid-gin-e

I would parle in Punter and Piker
And would curse in fluent Kangaroo

If i'm asked , "Can you speak 'Banana Bender' "
I'ld say "Both Genders, can't you"

If I could talk to the Aussies, learn their languages
Think of all the things we'd disagree  
If I could walk with the Aussies
Talk to an Aussies
Slang and Bang and hang with an Aussies
And they could Slang
                          and Bang
                                  and Hang
                                         with  Me !

Cobber From the Bush

Cobber from the bush.

We had the Rockers  an the Surfies
Crazy wild buggers true,
I was walking down the street ,
An they said “what are you ?”

I said “I’m a Bushie, don’t be pushy
Or you’ll smell the gum leaves too,”
So I went a riding Nortons,
And the Trumpys, just a few.        (Triumph motorbike)

Would ya persecute an rob me,
Said shelia,giving me a push,
I’d hold ya down an scruff ya ,
Said me Cobber from the bush.

Would ya live off sin of harlots,
Would ya think it bloody good,
Would ya skim a quid to start with,
“my flaming oath I would “.

Beatle long hair was a flowing,
And we’d catch em one or two,
Short back n side, just one side,
Sometimes fisticuffs, a blue.

Don Johnson 

1960s when I came away from the bush in Australia  to the big smoke.

	craig cornish
Contest Name	Talk That Way

Mute Mutterings

Mute Mutterings
Of Carolyns Confessions Bartender... 
Pistol packing momma lay that pistol down, 
as the old song goes:) 
sounds like the probby was suitably addressed, 
bullet in kneecap, just a little perplexed, 
back in ya corner you ***** cos your next, 
hold on while im sukkin me last cigarette ... 
on ya cobber, mine....Don


The world is in a spiral spin,
negative needs reversing in,
is the fix another bloody war,
blood n death of millions more,
yes mankind's mortal sin... 

 
very just and kind of words,
hope, humanity, not unheard,
every man is just a brother,
every woman may be mother,
on the healthy scale of things.

Tony, beware of the deep,
the thoughts that creep,
memory searches one,
shut your eyes n go to sleep ,
and memory canters some,
beware the deep, of thinking some...

Bob
different views, different states of mind,
what is important, to that fellow of kind,
some of the spiritual, some money blind,
kindness to all doesn't leave us behind?

Don Johnson

• Short Cobber Poems
• Famous Cobber Poems
• Best Cobber Poems
• Read Cobber Poems
• Long Cobber Poems
• Cobber Quotes