ASF Poetry Thread

[2020hindsight]

Here's another letter (1920) from one of those winging bushies - asking for a handout
(Henry Lawson to Clarence James Dennis)
http://www.library.usyd.edu.au/libraries/rare/lawson/dennisfull.html

By the way, here's another earlier letter (1915) - where Dennis asks Lawson for a hand. "written in response to Dennis's request for Lawson to write the Foreword to the first edition of The Sentimental Bloke". Helping old buddies out
http://www.middlemiss.org/lit/authors/denniscj/letters/tocjd/hl19150326.html

I guess since Dennis has no descendants, he was fairly wealthy, whereas Lawson wasnt - the squirrel and the grasshopper I guess.

http://www.cultureandrecreation.gov.au/articles/lawson/
Lawson was born on the Grenfell goldfields in New South Wales on 17 June 1867. He was the son of a Norwegian seaman, Niels Larson, who later changed his name to Peter Lawson.

In Henry's early years, the family lived on a poor selection in the Mudgee district. Lawson suffered from deafness and was often teased as a result.

His parents separated in 1883, and Henry moved to Sydney with his mother, Louisa. It was there that Louisa began publishing the feminist newspaper The Dawn.

Colin Roderick , who published a biography of Lawson called Henry Lawson: a life, suggests that Lawson suffered from manic depression and sought refuge from his mood swings in alcohol. Died in 1922

Interesting that in that first letter above, Lawson puts the case that he needs bush clobber - because he would be ASHAMED to go about in a suit looking like a someone from the city. With some of the attitudes us cityfolk have expressed about the bush, I would be too lol.

 

[2020hindsight]

Clarence (Clarrie or Den) Michael James Stanislaus Dennis was born in Auburn, South Australia on September 7, 1876, to James Dennis and his second wife Catherine. For reasons that are unclear, though which are probably due to the boy's and the mother's ill-health and frailty, Dennis was looked after in his early years by his mother's aunts who lived nearby. In 1883, James Dennis took up the lease on a hotel in Gladstone in South Australia's mid-North and, a couple of years later, moved again, this time seven miles further north to the township of Laura, and the Beetaloo Hotel.

Dennis's mother died in 1890 leaving his father with 3 sons and a hotel to look after. This was never going to work successfully so two of Kate's unmarried sisters left their home in Mintaro (in the Clare Valley) and moved to Laura to help with the children's upbringing. For some time in his teens Dennis attended the Christian Brothers' College in Adelaide but had returned to Laura by the age of 17. At that time he took a job as a clerk to a local solicitor, and it was during this period that he published his first poem, when 19, titled "The Singular Experiences of Six Sturdy Sportsmen" - which concerned the exploits of Dennis and a group of his mates when lost in the Beetaloo Hills just outside Laura. The verse was published in the local Laura newspaper The Laura Standard. Some time later he worked on the staff of the Critic, an Adelaide weekly newspaper. By the age of 21 he was back in Laura working as a barman in his father's hotel, .....
etc etc - left Laura for Broken Hill in NSW. etc became writer for Bulletin etcetc. heaps of books. etc - At least you know where he learn this okker'isms.

e.g. "Fellas of Australia, blokes and coves and coots,
shift your bludy asses, move your bludy boots
get a bloody move on, and get some bloody sense
and learn the bloody art of self de-bloody fence! "
(for memory and probly full of inaccuracies. Also from memory written leading into WW1)

Here's a poem he wrote for kids:-

THE ANT EXPLORER

Once a little sugar ant made up his mind to roam--
To fare away far away, far away from home.
He had eaten all his breakfast, and he had his ma's consent
To see what he should chance to see and here's the way he went--
Up and down a fern frond, round and round a stone,
Down a gloomy gully where he loathed to be alone,
Up a mighty mountain range, seven inches high,
Through the fearful forest grass that nearly hid the sky,
Out along a bracken bridge, bending in the moss,
Till he reached a dreadful desert that was feet and feet across.
'Twas a dry, deserted desert, and a trackless land to tread,
He wished that he was home again and tucked-up tight in bed.
His little legs were wobbly, his strength was nearly spent,
And so he turned around again and here's the way he went--
Back away from desert lands feet and feet across,
Back along the bracken bridge bending in the moss,
Through the fearful forest grass shutting out the sky,
Up a mighty mountain range seven inches high,
Down a gloomy gully, where he loathed to be alone,
Up and down a fern frond and round and round a stone.
A dreary ant, a weary ant, resolved no more to roam,
He staggered up the garden path and popped back home.

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16251/16251.txt
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/16251
If you want the full book I suggest download the 103kB uncompressed version

 

[chops_a_must]

Sorry, but I enjoy Ginsberg:

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene-
ment roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy &
publishing obscene odes on the windows of the
skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn-
ing their money in wastebaskets and listening
to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in
Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their
torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al-
cohol and **** and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and
lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of
Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the mo-
tionless world of Time between...

 

[2020hindsight]

Sorry, but I enjoy Ginsberg:

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,

Sheesh - seriously mmm different lol.
Well sure is a change from the ANT EXPLORER bak there lol.

Here's one I wrote when I was a bit younger - quoted here from memory... just the ghist - It's bludy depressing (bit like yours lol). Sorry I can't condone drugs I have seen a friend of one of my teenage sons go down with schizophrenia - I've also spoken to Afghan friends who say that it's well known that heavy users end up as mental cripples, - I specially can't condone CIGARETTE companies who are no better than common pushers imho.

THE PUSHER

In the hurly burly torture - down the backstreets of debauchery
malevolent and menacing the pusher makes his way
they say he's blind to agony, the bodies on the balconies
the dirt and the depravity, the victims of his play.

The hookers dotted on the street they watch his progress sunken cheeked
a few shake uncontrollably, they call him by to deal
one blind to caution counts her bills from laddered stockings edged with frills
and gets her shot of countless kills, her brow sweats with its feel.

.........
The morning sun across her floor reveals an arm stretched out for more
a needle still impinging, and a tiny pinhole "gash"
She's neither sad, nor strictly soiled - she's simply "had her old age foiled"
they carry her outside uncoiled - while pushers count their cash

 

[chops_a_must]

I agree, and that is actually pretty good, I must admit.

Well, if you look at the problems with amphetamine use, as compared to opiate addiction, like the afghans have trouble with, I would rather deal with the opiate problems. (I'm guessing the schizophrenic was a speed addict.)

Not only are you more likely to develop mental problems on speed, you are likely to die in your 30s of heart problems. Bill Burroughs for instance, a well known heroin addict, lived into his 80s. The longevity of opiate addicts doesn't seem to be as much of a problem.

 

[2020hindsight]

Well, if you look at the problems with amphetamine use, as compared to opiate addiction, like the afghans have trouble with, I would rather deal with the opiate problems. (I'm guessing the schizophrenic was a speed addict.)

It was only pot m8 - This is a common misconception - pot is perfectly capable of inflicting "split personalties". (well that's the bottomline, but..)

They go on about subtle stupid distinctions that the pot only "TRIGGERED" the disease - it was already there as a latent problem - But the bottom line? the kid wouldn't have the problem today (nor in the future) if he'd stayed away from pot.

You wanna know what a lovely kid he was? how talented? And by contrast .. now? - the medications help of course - and he's still a fighter. But my wife and this kid's mother have cried together many times

PS - here's something I posted on another thread :- "all my arguments with "fuddy duddy oldies" in those days defending it (pot) were also nonsense. Weed is not recommended! Sorry If you're a hash smoker - but thats one of the lessons life has taught ME at least."

PPS As much as I'm enjoyinag a CONVERSATION in here lol, I wonder if drugs are getting off the subject of poetry - maybe deserve a THread of their own IF anyone wants to continue it

- I was trying to keep the site a-political as if that theory's got a snowball's chance in Hell around here lol. (see #45 if you're interested in a long winded poem that says the same thing but takes half an hour to say it lol)

 

[chops_a_must]

Marijuana
Five percent of long term users,
Will end up getting mental bruises.
Would it not have come to the fore?
Maybe, but it was not there before.

 

[2020hindsight]

http://www.bushpoetry.com.au/masterpoets/MasterPoetsHome/DennisCJ/tabid/682/Default.aspx

Here's one of Dennis's later posts ( must be the Harbour bridge was only built in 1932 from memory - well after WW1 when he became famous anyways. Concerns a dream in which Dennis chats with Gov Phillip about Sydney's growth - while looking at the bridge from Lady Macquarie's chair . This is an excerpt only

I DIPS ME LID CJ Dennis, Except only.

I'd strolled about the town for 'arf a day
Then dragged me carcase round the 'arbor way
To view the Bridge from Dame Macquarrie's Chair
Then parks me frame, an' gits to thinkin' there-
Thinkin' of older days; an' I suppose
I must 'ave nodded orf into a doze.
Nex' thing I knoo, ole Phillip come an' sat
Beside me, friendly like, an' starts to chat.

"Young sir," 'e sez. "You, too, in sheer amaze
Look upon this, and hark to other days,
An' dream of this fair city's early start.
In which ('e bows) I played my 'umble part-
My 'umble part - a flagpole an' a tent."
"Come orf!" sez I. "You was a fine ole gent.
Reel nob. I've read about the things you did.
You picked some site." ('E bows. I dips me lid).

"Young sir," 'e sez. "I've dwelt in spirit 'ere
To watch this city waxin' year by year:
But yesterday, from a mere staff, a tent,
Wonder on wonder as the swift years went-
A thrivin' village, then a busy town,
Then, as a stride, a city of renown.
Oh! what a wondrous miracle of growth
Think you not so?" "Too right," I sez. "My oath!"

"I've watched, young sir," 'e sez. "An' I 'ave feared
Sometimes; feared greatly when ill days appeared.
Yet still they fought and wrought. I had small need
To doubt the great heart of this sturdy breed.
Black war has come. Yet, over half a world,
Their sons into that bloody fray they hurled
And still they triumphed. Still their lodestar shone."
"Sure thing," sez I. " They kep' on keepin' on."

"Young sir," 'e sez. "The tears well in my eyes
When I behold von arch that cleaves the skies -
That mighty span, triumphant, where we view
My old friend Darwin's vision now made true:
'There the proud arch, Colossus-like, bestride
Yon glittering stream and bound the chafing tide!
'Twas so he dreamed a few short years agone.
Spoke truly, sir; they keep on keeping on." ... etc

 

[2020hindsight]

Marijuana
Five percent ....

Lov it lol - good one

PS If I ruled the world - lol - every post in here would contain SOMETHING in either poetry or prose - BUT one man's idea of prose is another man's idea of ...mmm .. a ramble through the dictionary lol.

Like the bloke who put down the phone book after a couple ofdays reading ..."mmm interesting set of characters !!! , but the plot was a bit thin "

 

[2020hindsight]

Apologies to that funny dude who sings this on the Optus ad lol (you know the one - Great Wall of China...mm to keep out the err RABBITS - yep big problem rabbits .. in China"
http://lyricsplayground.com/alpha/songs/i/ivebeeneverywhere.shtml

1. AUSTRALIAN VERSION: (Geoff Mack) (1959)

Well, I was humpin' my bluey on the dusty Oodnadatta road,
When along came a semi with a high and canvas-covered load.
If you're goin' to Oodnadatta, etc etc

Cause I've been everywhere, man,
I've been everywhere, man.
etc etc

I've been to Tullamore, Seymour, Lismore, Mooloolaba,
Nambour, Maroochydore, Kilmore, Murwillumbah,
Birdsville, Emmaville, Wallaville, Cunnamulla,
Condamine, Strathpine, Proserpine, Ulladulla,
Darwin, Gin Gin, Deniliquin, Muckadilla,
Wallambilla, Boggabilla, Kumbarilla,
I'm a killer.
....etc etc

I've been here, there, everywhere
I've been everywhere

********************
2. I'VE BEEN EVERYWHERE, Kiwi Version , Adapted by John Grenell 1966

Well I was hitching a ride on a winding Hokitika road etc etc
...I've been to
Kaparoa Whangaroa Akaroa Motueka
Taramoa Benmore Pongaroa Horoeka
Rimutaka Te Karaka Whangarei
Nuhaka Waimahaka Motuhura Waikaka
Motonui Hokonui Papanui Wainui
Matawai Rongotai Pikowai I'm a guy.
Ch. I've been everywhere, man . . .

..... Taupo Timaru Oamaru Tihoi
Awanui Wanganui Pauanui lot o' hooey

..... Waitaki Pukaki Taranaki Te Kauwhata
Ropata Ikowai Waitemata what's the matter.

....... Tapanui Porinui Tawanui Otahuhu
Ruatapu Mosgiel Whareroa that's for sure.

....... Waimea Waharoa Dannevirke Ngahere
Gordonton Oban Kingston how ya been. etcetc

********************
3. I'VE BEEN EVERYWHERE - Johnny Cash version

I was totin my pack along the long dusty Winnamucka road
When along came a semi with a high canvas covered load
If your goin' to Winnamucka, Mack with me you can ride
... etc

I've been to:
Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota
Buffalo, Toronto, Winslow, Sarasota
Whichta, Tulsa, Ottowa, Oklahoma
Tampa, Panama, Mattua, LaPaloma
Bangor, Baltimore, Salvadorm, Amarillo
Tocapillo, Pocotello, Amperdllo
I'm a Killer

Devil's Lake, Crater Lake
For Pete's Sake

Diamondtina, Pasadena, Catalina
See What I Mean(a)

Souix City, Cedar City, Dodge City
What A Pity

************************
4. BUT lol.....the BEST by a country mile would have to be this one by a stupid idiot named Bond... lol - Graham Bond - no not the bloke with the amphibious jetski that flies - the one with the boxing glove and the Shirley Temple wig lol. Pretty talented bloke for an architect - and that's high praise comin from an engineer lol.
Check out pages 6 and 7 of this lead :-
http://www.naa.gov.au/publications/memento/pdf/memento31.pdf
Youuuuuuuu Guessed it . lol

Ive been tooooo...............
...........
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong Wollongong
etc etc

annnnnddddd.................
...........
Dapto !!!

PS comparing the Aus and the Kiwi and the US versions - you'd have to say the the aboriginal and maori placenames are more "suited" with their multiple syllables.

 

[2020hindsight]

http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1173517
The Aunty Jack Show was one of Australia's best loved television sketch comedy series, running from 1972 to 1973 on Australia's national broadcaster ABC. In the anarchic vein of Monty Python, its title character was a motor-cycling transvestite boxer. At the end of each show, the moustachioed Aunty Jack would make the terrifying statement:

Goodbye, me little lovelies! And don't forget to tune in next week to the show, because if you don't, I'm going to come round to your house, and I'm going to rip your bloody arms off. And I will too. Don't forget it.

At risk of involuntary amputation from a hirsute hermaphrodite, (LOL) all of Australia watched in nervous fear. After the first episode went to air, the ABC received over a thousand complaints from its traditionally conservative audience regarding the violent drag queen. According to director Maurice Murphy, the show only survived because the children of ABC executives pleaded for a stay of execution.

The Aunty Jack Show starred Grahame Bond as Aunty Jack, Rory O'Donoghue as Thin Arthur, John Derum as Narrator, and Sandy Macgregor as Flange Desire. Also involved in the production was Peter Weir, who went on to become director of Picnic at Hanging Rock, Gallipoli and Dead Poet's Society. The second series saw the departure of John Derum and the introduction of of Garry McDonald, who played Kid Eager, and introduced Australia to the character of Norman Gunston.

In a testament to Australia's musical preferences and the ongoing popularity of the show past its denouement, the album Aunty Jack Sings Wollongong was released in 1974. The single and theme song from the series Farewell Aunty Jack reached Number 1 and stayed in the Australian music charts for 22 weeks.

FAREWELL AUNTY JACK Grahame Bond, Rory O'D

Farewell, Aunty Jack, We know you'll be back
Though you're ten feet tall you don't scare us at all
You're big, bold and tough, But you're not so rough
There's a scream as you plummet away

Aunty Jack: Goodbye, me little lovelies!
And don't forget to tune in next week to the show,
because if you don't, I'm going to come round to your house,
and I'm going to rip your bloody arms off.
And I will too. Don't forget it.

She rides a black bike
Aunty Jack: I do.
And drives through the night
She's big, round and fat but don't dare tell her that
Aunty Jack: I bloody well aren't!

Else she'll turn so mean
Her glove starts to gleam
There's a scream as she plummets away
Aunty Jack: Do you want a good smack in the mouth?

crazy drummer goes crazy at this point..- really starts "losing it"....
guitar says .....If he goes I'm goin with him ..!!!
(sorry that was from the muppets lol.......)
forget I said that

OOOHHHHHHHHHHHH FAREWELL Aunty Jack
Don't you know you'll be back
Though you're ten feet tall you don't scare us at all
You're big, bold and tough
But you're not so rough
There's a scream as you plummet away

Actually Rory O'Donoghue was a bludy good singer

 

[2020hindsight]

GRANPA'S HOKEY POKEY KNEE

My ole Granpa was "the man", legs were somewhat horseback- bowed,
Born beside the passing Ghan, where the Channel Rivers flowed,
I recall but little of him, just his grin said "pleased to meet ya"
Body mainly bone and skin, - then this knee that sorta featured.

One thing I recall for sure, Granpa's knee was "in your face"
He would line up with the door, knee would line up any place,
Knee would do the hokey-pokey when he put his best foot forward,
Buckle like a hinge that's broke, then he'd grin and "hokey" doorward.

Used to ride a horse "full bore" - was he larrikin or lawman(?),
Like the Henry Lawson Law, "make 'em buck and teach 'em Mormon"
Used to pick the rabid horse, cigarettes for when it rears,
Make the bucker show remorse, "light it as it changes gears".

Once I asked my Gran the question, how he came to be this way,
How his knee was sorta destined, to flip-flop twixt "Z" and "K",
Gran explained he'd been a party to a pub-floor test of strength,
Two men push and pull so hearty till some knee decreased in length !!!

Wide-eyed, childlike, this amazed me, Pubfloors conjured scenes of woe,
Thoughts of bent knees sorta phased me, - made a mental note "say no!!"
....
Now Im older I feel certain - twas his lifestyle catching up
Granpa probly crashed while flirtin - tryin to get his car to buck.

 

[2020hindsight]

WALLS

you Find them lining rooms and halls, Of houses boasting warmth within,
First things first when freedom calls - Get yourself a set of walls, Home to memory's scribbled scrawls,
Get a timber skin.

the Sentiments of those inside , can Permeate each wooden pore,
Listen as the memories ride -Round this room they laughed and cried, Listen as some blushing bride,
was Carried through the door.

and Maybe bumps where children fell, Babies first steps, wide-eyed wonder
Thrills that you can almost smell, Leaping hearts remembered well, Little signs of "show-and-tell",
Childhood memories boom like thunder.

Sometimes too you see walls wince, and Catch a breath, some subtle pain -
Loved ones who have moved on since, Read the walls for subtle hints, Old eroding finger prints
that Won't return again.

and Sometimes too you hear them sing, Where Courage overcomes the sigh,
Hear the happy sleighbells ring , When they do their Xmas thing, Feel the warmth that carols bring
from Happy passers-by.

and Maybe empty houses now - Walls can only reminisce,
Fondest greetings, welcome, ciao, Cutest curtsey, gentle bow, Danced embraces, lover's vow,
Sealed with gentle kiss.

and Then there's Hamlet's ghostly Dad, Countless more who nightly walk -
Apparitions crude and sad, Hide in walls of any "pad", Never speaking - drive you mad!!
Ahh, if only walls could talk

 

[2020hindsight]

INSTINCT SOULS and BIRDDOGS

I spied a brown hawk on a hovering stalk, As he straightened and swooped for some feast,
And I wondered who learned him, and what birthright earned him, The power and skills of the beast,
And it’s London to brick that he knew as a chick, Or perhaps from some parent deceased,
That you swoop or you die, with a sharp beak and eye, As your latent hawk skills are released.

I saw a white dove, that pure symbol of love, Who so gracefully slipped through the sky,
And she flew to her nest, to the ones she loved best, That her hungry young tribe wouldn’t cry,
And I watched oh so slow, as they formed a small row, On a wee little branch nearby,
And from somewhere within came a flight instinct grin - They somehow decided to fly!.

My dog watched them both with a soft whimpered oath, And she stopped in her tracks in the dirt,
-- Tail as straight as a die, -- and one foot bent and high ! Like a motionless arrow alert.
And I haven’t a clue where she learnt what to do, But it wasn’t from me that’s a cert,
And I guess some subliminal signal from mum, Has entrenched and refused to revert.

We learn half our ways under parental gaze, The other half’s there on day one,
And millions of creatures have dozens of features, And all someone’s daughter or son,
The lion kills true, as his parent’s did too, With a soul - cruel - akin to a gun,
While the soul of a deer knows only to fear, And its legs know only to run.
..............
And hawk and dove and parents may die , But the soul will live on in the son.
..............
And the soul of the dog knows to serve, and to try, And to lick at your hand – and have fun.

 

[2020hindsight]

Serious amateur hour with this one
A PUPPY's PERSPECTIVE

The wrought iron men have their i(r)on the (w)rorts, and real estate's real overstated,
and Hollywood's all about sex on the screen , and sex on a screen's overrated,
…..But puppies know only to live by one rule - to serve and deserve us - we're fated.

The Bond market's marked down with undies and jocks, with most of the stockbrokers broke,
The stocktaker's taken most all of the stocks, and comedy's 'coming a joke;
…..But my little puppy's in love with my socks, the same smell that makes the kids choke.

The Railways are off the rails, ferries are sunk, and Airlines are up in the air.
The trams can't think laterally, taxis talk bunk, and driving is driving us spare;
…..But my little puppy she nests in my junk, and smiles at the foot of my chair.

And vet'rinry service has gone to the dogs, and retailing tails out of fashion,
and dogfood's rejected by most thinking mogs as "goo" and/or "lacking in passion";
…..But my little dog friend, she smiles as she bogs in, ecstatic with life and her ration.

The weight losing outlets are making a loss, and tree-lopping's sure hit its peak.
While wholesaling holes keeps a council job poss-ible, backyard's are gettin real bleak;
…..But - find an old bone - and she's straight to the boss, and plants a big lick on my cheek.

When Pamela Anderson takes to the floor, the nightclub's in need of a lawman,
Her knockers have broken three ribs and a jaw, and KO'ed three grooms and a doorman;
…..But wagging a tail when you stand side-by-paw, is real and sincere as a Mormon,
…..So puppies remind us of good times of yore, So puppies make princes of poormen.

 

[2020hindsight]

And more amateur yet ... (if you can believe it) - might give someone a smile , who nose, someone out there might be REALLY desperate for a joke? lol.

SCHREK One-Point-Five

now This is a story you just may have heard -
it’s aBout “Sleeping Beauty Meets Frog”
this Witch spiked her schnapps, she was shaken not stirred,
she was OFTEN in trouble - or trouble deferred -
that Night she was OFF’N her face we’ve heard !! now she’s Sleeping it OFF ON a log.
(and a low log at that - How else is the frog going to jump up to her, stupid?)

she Lay with such beauty so superimposed - and he Hopped on her nose and he smiled
her Eyes were like – were like – well, actually closed - (she’d Been asleep probly six months he supposed)
and Only the hint of a snore as she dozed,
and her Hair? well – six months? - superwild (of couse it was wild! – cripes you’re stupid!)!.

the Frog carefully turned to see lips so red
- by Now slime all over her face
and he Pictured them frogmarching up to be wed
and he Pictured them both in his slimy-creek-bed
(well – her place, or mine, whatever - some of ‘em get so fussy)
and he Pictured the wonderful offspring they’d shed
off- Springing all over the place. (And stop jumping on your sister).

and Yes - as he leant out to kiss her so soft
and Yes (sigh) - at the moment of fusion
as he Dreamt of the girls he had wined, dined or troughed
(that’s eating at McDonalds – with or without fries - haven’t you been around?!)
- as the Six months of BO presented a waft -
as a Bloody great flash from some Heavenly loft
went off “BOOM” - so too the illusion.!! (sheeeesh).

cos she Wasn’t a frog and she wasn’t a girl
and she Didn’t have glamour bestowed
“well Hi – my name’s Toadstool - she sat with a whirl
and Come here you gorgeous, you frog-a-al-pearl
I Much prefer action than poems and spirl
cos I’m Just one horny young toad!”.

and they Jumped and they humped all the way to the sunset
their Thighs became massive from kickin’
till they Sadly ran into a Chef from the gunset
and in Time they became, well, the toast of the funset
- and Poetry wise, well, the toast of the punset -
and their Drumsticks? they toasted like chicken.

so if Ever you’re eating a French coussine
and you’re Trying out frog’s legs and snail
just reMember the moral – when the future’s unseen
and you’re Kissing a blind date that might just turn green
that you Might get so horny and dangerously keen
that your Getaway means might fail!
(that’s his legs for chrissake stupid! – do I have to explain everything)!.
so the Fairy’s tailend ?– tale ends? woops - I mean
So the End of this fairy tale.

And dont bludiwell larf - or I'll jump right outta this monitor! ....and rip your bludy arms off!! - specially you, stupid.!!

 

[2020hindsight]

PS before you read too much here - I would summarise this as an unsuccessful attempt to translate Nessum Dorma into English (but to be fair, you at least get a ghist I spose lol)

TRANSLATIONS ... website http://translation2.paralink.com/ which very kindly translates things into other languages for you.
....PS I am reminded of the story of the engineer who used a computer to translate "hydraulic ram" into Russian , and it came out the equivalent of "water buffalo".

Sadly I had to go Italian > Russian > English.
Gotta feeling that we've ended upwith another "hydraulic ram/buffalo" here lol

NESSUM DORMA, ITALIAN:-

Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!
***Tu pure, o PrincipeSSA,***
Nella tua fredda stanza guardi le stelle,
Che tremano d'amore e di speranza!

Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò,
Quando la luce splenderà!

Ed il mio bacio scioglierà.
**Il silenzio che ti fa miA!**

[Choir:] Il nome suo nessun saprà!
E noi dovrem ahimè morir, morir!
Dilegua o notte!
Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle!
All' alba vincerò!
Vincerò! Vincerò!


NESSUM DORMA, RUSSIAN :-

Никакой спите! Никакой спите!
*** Ты также, или Принцесса, ***
В твоей холодной комнате он смотрел на звезды,
Что дрожат любви и надежды!

Но моя тайна закрыта во мне,
... etc etc

*************
NESSUM DORMA, ENGLISH

Any sleep! Any sleep!
*** You also, or Princess, ***
In your cold room it looked at stars,
That shiver love and hope!

But my secret is closed in me,
My any name will know!
No, no, about your mouth I it shall tell,
When light splendera!

And my kiss will dismiss.
** Silence which is done to you by mine! **

[Kojr:] Its any name will know!
And we dovrem ahime to die, die!
Dilegua or night!
Tramontate, stars!
Tramontate, stars!
In a dawn I shall be on

"Tramontate stars ???" lol

"No, no, about your mouth I it shall tell, When light splendera!" - oh you sweet talker you lol.

PS Here's another clue :- Dictionary.com gives no help for "tramontate", BUT
"transmontane". means :-
1. being or situated beyond the mountains.
2. beyond the Alps as viewed from Italy; transalpine.
- so I guess that's what they mean - like, the stars are somewhere over in Switzerland lol.
?? maybe he's saying " pis* off to Switzerland stars !!" ?

 

[2020hindsight]

http://www.sing365.com/music/Lyric.nsf/Nessun-Dorma-lyrics-G4/366FEAA32DCB5D9B48256FCF0014153D

Found a better translation

NESSUM DORMA

No man will sleep! No man will sleep! (elsewhere "no one must sleep")
No man will sleep! No man will sleep!
You too, o Princess,
in your virginal room, (elsewhere "cold room"?)
watch the stars
trembling with love and hope!

But my secret lies hidden within me,
no one shall discover my name!
Oh no, I will reveal it only on your lips
when daylight shines forth!
And my kiss shall break
the silence that makes you mine!

Nobody will discover his name
And we shall have to die, alas! Die!

Depart, o night! Set, you stars!
Set, you stars! At dawn I shall win! (elsewhere "I shall conquer")

 

[2020hindsight]

THE ECONOMY

I live up on a mountain far away from all the strife
We live beside a fountain, there’s just me and Flo me wife
- Some dollar coins for countin when we play a round of whist
- But even those could go and not be missed
- there’s options like strip poker – get me ghist

I grow me own potatoes and I make potato wine
It tastes a bit like bathwater (at least the bath was mine)
- The other day I braved the world and took a trip to town
- I read the bloody headlines with a frown
- Some Noah says we’re all about to drown!

“Economy’s in chaos and the whole things built on sand
The mindset of a yo-yo held by some sadistic hand
- The bubbles gonna burst unless the pressure cooker melts
- And bulls must learn to tighten up their belts!!
- And bears should stay asleep – or they’ll be pelts!!"

I raced back home to missy and I called an urgent meeting
I chaired (well strictlly woodlogged – cos it’s what we use for seating)
- “That’s it my dear there’s no more bloody bubble baths round here
- They’re gonna burst – and somehow that means fear.
- And – er - careful with the pressure cooker, dear."

And as for bulls we have a few we use em for their excrement
We use it on the cornpatch like I read in the Ole Testament
- Well HELL I fitted them with belts- till they stopped making goo!!
- (Maybe economists should be belt fitted too.
- They’d maybe stop to think before they moo.)

I called in five economists and they gave five opinions
And one more to adjudicate – a sixth – (of fifteen trillions)
- And – JUST before the meeting ended and they all departed
- Then SUDDENLY !! the bull-belt broke and farted!!
- This GIANT MOOing - like the earth had parted !!!
..........
(And that's the best opinion since we’d started.!)

They all said “ HELL an omen!" And they grabbed their mobile phones
“buy TLS and West Australia" – all excited tones
- “and don’t stop there – buy USA - and England and Japan!!"
- And next day ? guess what paper headlines ran?
- “The markets up bigtime – and to a man!!

So now they ring me sometimes – ask me what’s my bull’s advice?
Commissions just keep pooring in , it's great, my beer’s on ice
- And sometimes too they give me tips- like, swap your shorts for longs,
- But Jesus, then they’re mixed up with me thongs!!
- And good news is , strip poker's going strong

 

[2020hindsight]

Franklin D. Roosevelt: Happiness is not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort. (like when you get out of bed on the other side !!)

Izaak Walton: Look to your health; and if you have it, praise God, and value it next to a good conscience; for health is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of; a blessing that money cannot buy. (well I'll give you a case of bourbon and a packet of marlboro for good health for a start cough cough)

Jane Austen: Business, you know, may bring money, but friendship hardly ever does. (ahhh - it's music to my ears when friends ask me for a fifty till payday)

Ralph Waldo Emerson: Money often costs too much. (yep - yesterday I paid 3 perfectly pristine bigmac vouchers for a stupid 10 bucks!!)

Thornton Wilder: Money is like manure; it's not worth a thing unless it's spread around encouraging young things to grow. (kids - get away from that manure and tomato-looking-bush thingy!! and come over here and study your maths!!)

Henry Fielding (1707 - 1754) If you make money your god, it will plague you like the devil. (This from a man who hadn't even heard of AUSTRALIA !! let alone the ASX!! lol - "will plague you like PLAQUE without colgate!!")

C K Chesterton: The golden age only comes to men when they have forgotten gold. (and where they hid their easter eggs!)

Pablo Picasso: I'd like to live like a poor man - with lots of money. (and a coupla billionaire concubines thrown in? - whose dad owns a paint supply shop)

Albert Camus: "It's a kind of spiritual snobbery that makes people think that they can be happy without money." (In that case call be a snob )

Richard Armour :-
The money talks,
I'll not deny,
I heard it once,
It said "goodbye"
(and it usually adds "and I'm not coming BACK!!)