THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
walkaboutsverse
to Aborigines, hence I post this poem...
Poem 76 of 230: LAND RIGHTS
If there is a good thing
From the Second World War
It's that most peoples learnt
To conquer lands no more.
In Africa, Asia,
And the Pacific, too:
Post-war independence -
Steps only bigots rue.
But for some indigenes,
Outnumbered much-too-much,
It has all come too late
For liberty, as such.
So 'tis in Australia,
And America's sites,
Where the best now, I think,
Is to respect land rights.
(C) David Franks 2003
From my free site - http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
Aint 'ad a chance to read your work closely...
read your one abart t' 'picker' been an old picker
from wayback... begun with carrots and spuds
and now I pick peaches an such...
welcome aboard...
David.
walkaboutsverse
> On Feb 19, 10:41 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>
>
>
> > Last week, the new PM of Australia, Kevin Rudd, made a formal apolgy
> > to Aborigines, hence I post this poem...
>
> > Poem 76 of 230: LAND RIGHTS
>
> > If there is a good thing
> > From the Second World War
> > It's that most peoples learnt
> > To conquer lands no more.
>
> > In Africa, Asia,
> > And the Pacific, too:
> > Post-war independence -
> > Steps only bigots rue.
>
> > But for some indigenes,
> > Outnumbered much-too-much,
> > It has all come too late
> > For liberty, as such.
>
> > So 'tis in Australia,
> > And America's sites,
> > Where the best now, I think,
> > Is to respect land rights.
>
and healthy experience, in Aus., during uni. holidays, more than 20
years ago.
> > (C) David Franks 2003
> > From my free site -http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> Aint 'ad a chance to read your work closely...
> read your one abart t' 'picker' been an old picker
> from wayback... begun with carrots and spuds
> and now I pick peaches an such...
>
> welcome aboard...
>
> David.- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
David George
> Thanks David - I've only ever picked onions, but it was an enjoyable
> and healthy experience, in Aus., during uni. holidays, more than 20
> years ago.
pickled onions, huh?
I have preserved pears... ...
walkaboutsverse
> On Feb 20, 11:36 pm,walkaboutsverse<david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > Thanks David - I've only ever picked onions, but it was an enjoyable
> > and healthy experience, in Aus., during uni. holidays, more than 20
> > years ago.
>
> pickled onions, huh?
> I have preserved pears... ...
I had a pair of pickled onions, with baked beans and crisps, between
two pieces of toast, for lunch today, but that's not the point - it
was large Spanish ones I picked at Echuca, Victoria, Aus., David.
David George
I met a couple of pickled onions once
outside the Wooloomoolonga pub...
come to think of it I can't remember
if it was me who was pickled, or them...
it must have been them because they offered
to take me home in the shopping trolley
I had borrowed from the shop up the road.
They said "mate" and that said it all...
...I woke up in the bath with the beetroot
I had got pickled with the day before.
The moral of the story is there is no moral
jus don't get pickled like there's' no tomorrow.
walkaboutsverse
I'd agree with the recently-retired Fidel Castro on many - not all -
things, including I'm sure this...
Poem # 41 of 230: EVEN AFTER LINCOLN, STEINBECK, AND KING
Written at a public toilet by the
Statue of Liberty:
"What of Equality, Fraternity;
And Democracy!?"
The U.S.A. has aided dictators -
Right-Wing leaders, of course;
So some's bestowal of democracy
Is hypocrisy.
(C) David Franks 2003
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> I'd agree with the recently-retired Fidel Castro on many - not all -
> things, including I'm sure this...
>
> Poem # 41 of 230: EVEN AFTER LINCOLN, STEINBECK, AND KING
>
> Written at a public toilet by the
> Statue of Liberty:
> "What of Equality, Fraternity;
> And Democracy!?"
>
> The U.S.A. has aided dictators -
> Right-Wing leaders, of course;
> So some's bestowal of democracy
> Is hypocrisy.
>
> (C) David Franks 2003
>
> On Feb 21, 4:08 am, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
>
>
> > On Feb 21, 11:33 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > > On Feb 20, 5:17 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > > On Feb 20, 11:36 pm,walkaboutsverse<david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > > > > Thanks David - I've only ever picked onions, but it was an enjoyable
> > > > > and healthy experience, in Aus., during uni. holidays, more than 20
> > > > > years ago.
>
> > > > pickled onions, huh?
> > > > I have preserved pears... ...
>
> > > I had a pair of pickled onions, with baked beans and crisps, between
> > > two pieces of toast, for lunch today, but that's not the point - it
> > > was large Spanish ones I picked at Echuca, Victoria, Aus., David.
>
> > I met a couple of pickled onions once
> > outside the Wooloomoolonga pub...
>
> > come to think of it I can't remember
> > if it was me who was pickled, or them...
>
> > it must have been them because they offered
> > to take me home in the shopping trolley
>
> > I had borrowed from the shop up the road.
> > They said "mate" and that said it all...
>
> > ...I woke up in the bath with the beetroot
> > I had got pickled with the day before.
>
> > The moral of the story is there is no moral
>
> - Show quoted text -
Are you any relation of Don Franks in Wellington NZ...?
walkaboutsverse
immediate family are in Australia - where I repatriated from in 1997.
On Feb 23, 5:57 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
> On Feb 24, 12:33 am,walkaboutsverse<david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>
>
>
> > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > I'd agree with the recently-retired Fidel Castro on many - not all -
> > things, including I'm sure this...
>
> > Poem # 41 of 230: EVEN AFTER LINCOLN, STEINBECK, AND KING
>
> > Written at a public toilet by the
> > Statue of Liberty:
> > "What of Equality, Fraternity;
> > And Democracy!?"
>
> > The U.S.A. has aided dictators -
> > Right-Wing leaders, of course;
> > So some's bestowal of democracy
> > Is hypocrisy.
>
> > (C) David Franks 2003
> > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > On Feb 21, 4:08 am, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
>
> > > > On Feb 20, 5:17 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > > > On Feb 20, 11:36 pm,walkaboutsverse<david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > > > > > Thanks David - I've only ever picked onions, but it was an enjoyable
> > > > > > and healthy experience, in Aus., during uni. holidays, more than 20
> > > > > > years ago.
>
> > > > > pickled onions, huh?
> > > > > I have preserved pears... ...
>
> > > > I had a pair of pickled onions, with baked beans and crisps, between
> > > > two pieces of toast, for lunch today, but that's not the point - it
> > > > was large Spanish ones I picked at Echuca, Victoria, Aus., David.
>
> > > I met a couple of pickled onions once
> > > outside the Wooloomoolonga pub...
>
> > > come to think of it I can't remember
> > > if it was me who was pickled, or them...
>
> > > it must have been them because they offered
> > > to take me home in the shopping trolley
>
> > > I had borrowed from the shop up the road.
> > > They said "mate" and that said it all...
>
> > > ...I woke up in the bath with the beetroot
> > > I had got pickled with the day before.
>
> > > The moral of the story is there is no moral
> > > jus don't get pickled like there's' no tomorrow.- Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -
>
David George
>
> - Show quoted text -
Hmmm same politics... Don is a guitar man too...
we still ask these questions in NZ because
it helps locate people...
we have several Ozzie writers around about here...
one is an ex-kiwi who works in Sydney...
this newsgroup is supposed to be for and about
US writing... it works for me because at the moment
it is not blighted by trolls [what are invariably american]
a kind of writer's refugee camp...
David.
walkaboutsverse
pardon the pun!) with what you've just said, I've certainly taken
something of a hammering on uk.music.folk!
> David.- Hide quoted text -
David George
Most usenet forums are very provocative,
for two reasons my opinion...
firstly, because we are silent and anonymous behind the keyboard
and this seems to bring out the feral in people
secondly, flaming seems to be a prevalent pastime on usenet
I have made the best use of my time online...
these postings are much more fluid than
print on a static page
there is a potentially huge audience out there
but as usual it is necessary to win and hold your audience
no mean feat...!
-D.
walkaboutsverse
(Google groups, BBC, and mudcat) plus myspace and Write out Loud, as
well as particpation in folk and poetry clubs and festivals.
> -D.- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
I made this journey 20 years ago...
Poem 10 of 230, walkaboutsverse.741.com: LAND'S END TO JOHN O' GROATS
At the bold age of twenty-one
(Via Hong Kong, China, Macau)
I flew from Sydney to London -
Land's End to John o' Groats my vow.
I took a train out of London,
Found a highway and thumbed a ride;
I headed down toward Brighton,
Then hitch-hiked roads the coast beside.
On the face of my shoulder bag,
A sketched map of Aus. was my tag;
For said a Scot who'd hitched Europe:
"Some emblem may well boost your hope."
And drivers throughout the island,
Over a two month riding span,
Were the kindest folks I have met -
I swear not once did I get wet!
I stopped overnight in Portsmouth,
And one or two nights in Torquay;
Then headed along to Plymouth -
Still travelling beside the sea.
After viewing rugged Land's End,
I began the long journey north -
North-east, rather, before a bend,
Somewhere in a bit from Bournemouth.
On the way, I saw relatives,
Whom after leaving I did miss -
Their homes' cosy atmosphere,
And their local pubs' good cheer.
And the hitched-lifts came from many:
An off-work Bobbie, a truckie,
As well as on-duty soldiers -
Thanks, and I've not said where each was!
I headed west through South Wales,
And viewed Cardiff Arms from afar -
I was hitching with local males,
And they showed me from in the car.
I stayed a while at Swansea -
Saw the local footballers play;
Then hitched north through Llandovery -
Beautiful farmland, I must say.
I slept mostly in B. & B's,
Where the full breakfasts sure did please;
But also stopped in Youth Hostels,
Where it's the comradeship that tells.
My favourite sites were Torquay,
Old St. Andrews (noted shortly)
The road Glasgow-to-Inverness,
The Lakes, plus London's spots, no less.
From Colwyn Bay, I headed east
To Manchester, my place of birth;
Then on the Lakes my eyes did feast,
Before I passed by Solway Firth.
Onto Edinburgh, Glasgow,
St. Andrews, before Inverness;
Then waves from locals were the go -
Warm folks round John o' Groats, I'd guess.
(c) David Franks 2003
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
Its about time you did Cape Reinga to Sydney Cove...!
Worst night hitching for me was sleeping in a woolshed
with a horse cover pulled over me...
I always pick up hitchers when i can... return the dividend!
-D,
walkaboutsverse
travel-poems, I've retired and haven't been abroad for more than a
decade. Also - fancy sleeping in a woolshed without a woollen-blanket!
> -D,- Hide quoted text -
David George
> I did too, David, but I don't have a car at the moment. And, as for
> travel-poems, I've retired and haven't been abroad for more than a
> decade. Also - fancy sleeping in a woolshed without a woollen-blanket!
Ah, I must be gettin' old and tired...
I am sure i could have turned that one into a sheep-shagging episode!
Well you are true to your tails as a folk artist... not many today are
prepared to lean against the fence post and have a bit of a yarn.
-D.
walkaboutsverse
At last, the BBC have produced a series, called "White", allowing
English people to openly lament the loss of traditional English
culture and values, due to the mass immigration (and emigration) of
the last 50 years, hence I post this poem...
Poem 213 of 230: MORE AMOR PATRIAE
There is Tai Chi and there is tennis,
Line is fine but so is Morris,
There is curry and there is the roast,
And, when England is playing host,
It is the rest-of-the-world's good wish
To sense culture that is English.
From - http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> At last, the BBC have produced a series, called "White", allowing
> English people to openly lament the loss of traditional English
> culture and values, due to the mass immigration (and emigration) of
> the last 50 years, hence I post this poem...
>
> Poem 213 of 230: MORE AMOR PATRIAE
>
> There is Tai Chi and there is tennis,
> Line is fine but so is Morris,
> There is curry and there is the roast,
> And, when England is playing host,
> It is the rest-of-the-world's good wish
> To sense culture that is English.
We have cywyd and englyn
ydych yn siarad yr iaith am Queen
my people fly the red and green
y ddraig goch, and sing mean
ye saisneg drink your beer and honk
we Wenglish come and steal the plonk.
Yr eisteddfod am byth!
walkaboutsverse
Welsh, Scottish, etc. cultures - indeed, I love THE WORLD being
multicultural, and, therefore, believe strongly in the English nation
and the United Nations (NOT the EU, The Commonwealth, nor the UK).
Accordingly, I like the idea of eco-travel and fair-trade between
countries, via a stronger UN, rather than yet more conquest and
economic immigration. I'm sure this is the best way forward for
humanity.
David George
>
> - Show quoted text -
Yes and the English and English culture are top spiffing
as well... no doubt about it.
-D.
walkaboutsverse
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
A response to the Cheltenham Festival...
Poem 146 of 230: HORSES FOR COURSES?
To some, in income-anticipation,
Horse-balking at gates is a small debase;
To me, it seems a memory/fear case
Over the coming whip-castigation.
To some, the winning jockey's elation
Is the highlight of an ended horserace;
To me, the horse's bulged veins and scared face
Undermine the winners' celebration.
I can't condone a punter's desire
To gamble rather than earn a living,
But can acknowledge a jockey's courage;
I can't see and think as a raced sire,
Nor feel the scrapes hedges are giving,
But find horses choiceless in their bondage.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> -D.- Hide quoted text -
David George
>
> Poem 146 of 230: HORSES FOR COURSES?
>
> To some, in income-anticipation,
> Horse-balking at gates is a small debase;
> To me, it seems a memory/fear case
> Over the coming whip-castigation.
> To some, the winning jockey's elation
> Is the highlight of an ended horserace;
> To me, the horse's bulged veins and scared face
> Undermine the winners' celebration.
> I can't condone a punter's desire
> To gamble rather than earn a living,
> But can acknowledge a jockey's courage;
> I can't see and think as a raced sire,
> Nor feel the scrapes hedges are giving,
> But find horses choiceless in their bondage.
Got this this morning- my mum is 77 years of age:
I'll write this out as a "found Poem" but it is all
written by my brother Peter George.
Mum had a fall off Shadow today
riding in the hills near Waimate.
She got a scenic helicoptor flight
to Dunedin, spent the usual ages
in A&E and has now been admitted
to 7A, she will be there for a few days.
Broken shoulder blade, and multiple
rib fractures, punctured lung.
She is perky enough, seems to have
come through it reasonably well,
but quite sore and uncomfortable.
She won't be able to drive for a
month or two, and will be
hanging up the saddle for the winter.
I'll go back to the hospital tomorrow
to get an update, and then have to
pick up Shadow, truck and float
and drop them all in Roxburgh so
the round trip will take most of the day.
F O U N D
walkaboutsverse
Poem 16 of 230: A BEAUTIFUL STAGE
If a couple, with plans to wed,
Asked me, off the top of my head,
For somewhere I thought well in tune
As a place for a honeymoon,
It would have - flashing back - to be
Beautifully-honed Italy.
from http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> F O U N D- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
A tad early this time as it's the 41st gathering this coming
weekend...
Poem 193 of 230, walkaboutsverse.741.com: THE 35TH MORPETH
NORTHUMBRIAN GATHERING - SPRING 2002
Toward Morpeth's Gathering,
Either side of Great North Road,
Daffodils gleefully showed
Their stalk-dressing flowering.
And then, at the Gathering,
Another great flowering
Of English heritage, showed
Through competitions that glowed
With competent folk-singing,
Storytelling, bag-piping -
The small-pipes rapidly rode
By hands, in staccato mode -
Clogdancing and stick-dressing:
Things that are worth addressing.
On Mar 22, 11:43 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 16 of 230: A BEAUTIFUL STAGE
>
> If a couple, with plans to wed,
> Asked me, off the top of my head,
> For somewhere I thought well in tune
> As a place for a honeymoon,
> It would have - flashing back - to be
> Beautifully-honed Italy.
>
> fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
walkaboutsverse
After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem sung on
myspace.
Poem 162 of 230: TEES TO TYNE: FIRST IMPRESSIONS - SUMMER 2001
Where traditions are not so rare;
Sea, country and works scent the air;
A multitude of monuments,
Planted tubs and patterned pavements.
The longish pedestrian malls;
The remnants of defensive walls;
"Broken-roofed buildings" are a gauge
Of the respect for heritage.
Wheat, rape and pines in the fields;
Estuaries guarded by shields;
Long sandy beaches and wide scenes;
Romantic-ruin go-betweens.
Rivers in parts licked by trees,
Or fringed by boat clubs, wharfs, gantries,
And crossed by practical delights -
Varied spans, forming pleasing sights.
Fine churches headed at Durham;
Football kits ad infinitum;
Kept castles - one for study;
Masonry behind masonry.
And, with moulding-works out that way,
It's somewhere for a longer stay..?
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 23 of 230: ABOVE EVEREST
When flying from Nepal to Thailand,
I was given a "good-side" seat;
And, as I looked out the plane window,
The view I saw was really neat.
For breaking through a thick sheet of cloud
Were the high Himalayan peaks;
And, rising the highest of them all,
Mount Everest - heaven bespeaks!
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Apr 5, 11:11 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
(They say most attempts at commedy are aimed at someone - here I aim
squarely at myself.)
Poem 14 of 230: NIGHT OR DAY?
In the far north of Sweden,
A "Land of the Midnight Sun,”
A strange thing chanced upon me -
And I’ll tell you, just for fun.
Got off a train late-morning
(Had to catch same one next day)
And trudged far to the Youth Hostel -
Paying for a one-night stay.
I spent the afternoon sightseeing,
Then, after a latish dinner,
Returned to my own small bedroom -
The comfy bed proving a winner.
For I soon dozed into dreamy sleep -
Waking what was just two hours hence;
But my watch was an analogue,
And night or day I couldn’t sense!
I quickly packed all my things
(My train an hour or thirteen on)
And hurried out the bedroom -
The bright sky a sneaky con.
I wandered down the track a bit -
The Hostel office empty -
Before a smiling helpful local
Did kindly enlighten me.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Apr 12, 11:10 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 23 of 230: ABOVE EVEREST
>
> When flying from Nepal to Thailand,
> I was given a "good-side" seat;
> And, as I looked out the plane window,
> The view I saw was really neat.
>
> For breaking through a thick sheet of cloud
> Were the high Himalayan peaks;
> And, rising the highest of them all,
> Mount Everest - heaven bespeaks!
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
(About 20 years ago, I was passing through Checkpoint Charlie.)
Poem 17 of 230: THROUGH WHAT WAS
During Europe’s summer, ‘88,
At a wall my bag was checked:
A brief smile at what gave it weight;
Sun-cream lid back - mood unwrecked.
I walked past plain buildings and cars,
And entered a small food-store.
Its goods were plain, also: no sweet bars;
The essentials - not much more.
As I bought crispbread, with money changed,
A row began, at counter,
Between two, it seemed, Germans estranged -
Clothes, to me, the sole pointer.
I headed back through the wall that was,
Then signed a reunion book.
Reflecting, I’m happy/sad because
The Left-cause, too, has been shook.
(C) David Franks 2003
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
With local elections just held here in England, my outlook remains
much the same...
Poem 135 of 230: ON THE 2001 ELECTION
Morally Tory;
Economically
Old Labour:
Cold waiver.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Apr 26, 4:16 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> (About 20 years ago, I was passing through Checkpoint Charlie.)
>
> Poem 17 of 230: THROUGH WHAT WAS
>
> During Europe’s summer, ‘88,
> At a wall my bag was checked:
> A brief smile at what gave it weight;
> Sun-cream lid back - mood unwrecked.
> I walked past plain buildings and cars,
> And entered a small food-store.
> Its goods were plain, also: no sweet bars;
> The essentials - not much more.
> As I bought crispbread, with money changed,
> A row began, at counter,
> Between two, it seemed, Germans estranged -
> Clothes, to me, the sole pointer.
> I headed back through the wall that was,
> Then signed a reunion book.
> Reflecting, I’m happy/sad because
> The Left-cause, too, has been shook.
>
> (C) David Franks 2003
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
With talk about the unbeatable "big four" in our news, it's worth
remembering that, not so long ago, club football in England was mostly-
locals in MEANIGFUL competition...
Poem 98 of 230: REREGULATE
One Premier world-eleven v.
Another such company,
Or wage-caps and say half each-club’s squad
From the local-junior pod?
And, perhaps, heed the cricket-fan's call
To convert to county-football..?
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On May 3, 9:22 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> With local elections just held here in England, my outlook remains
> much the same...
>
> Poem 135 of 230: ON THE 2001 ELECTION
>
> Morally Tory;
> Economically
> Old Labour:
> Cold waiver.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 113 of 230: FOLLOWING THE SUN - SPRING 2000
Having moved, by buses, up the hill from Salford to Bury
(To be within walk of new work, again),
These stimuli surround between my abode and the factory
As I follow the sun - its wax, its wane:
Walking toward work and the rising sun, a morning chorus
Rides the crisp breezy air of hill-farmland,
While gravel, of road and path, beneath my plonked feet crunches,
And P.V.C. flaps loose of its hay-stand.
Bumble bees, tree sparrows and robins bob along the hedgerows,
Squirrels and hares hop ahead on my route;
And on a weather-wrapped reservoir - glassy, or dulled by blows -
Glide mute- and whooper-swans, ducks, geese and coot;
Horses, goats, sheep and cattle laze and graze on fields of green -
Fields they, in turn, feed, helping make hay;
And, above, swifts and herons sometimes grace the aerial scene -
A scene framed by a moorland chain of grey.
Slugs - some rusty, others pitch-black - slither on a clayey path,
That slopes sharply beside the reservoir;
And a whitegood on green-grass (a horse trough, once a human bath)
Amuses me as I view from afar;
As does Peel Monument, atop a distant Holecombe mount -
By which an uncle and I once took lunch;
Disturbed nettles - brushed in such distraction - make their bulwarks
count,
And a shed-side arbour demands a hunch.
One time, three sheep-dogs determined me lost, and rounded me up;
Oftentimes, the Metro. tram rattles by;
And, sometimes, a horse will urge me make handy a grassy cup,
Or nudge for a scratch down its back and thigh;
On cooler mornings, the dew on grasses soaks my joggers through,
But beautifies clumps of whimsy grass-heads;
And, already proceeding on his routine of chores to do,
A farmer strong-hoses out the cowsheds.
Caravan-people leave their grouping to walk the well-worn track,
And milk- and mail-vans squeeze tightly by;
Antique farm-machines rust away in a grassed ramshackle-stack,
And pigeons startle from their grassy
lie;
In sun, fishing-people and bathers dot the reservoir’s shore,
And, in shade, ferns the sides of path and stream;
Near gates, manure fills the air and makes stepping a chore,
But elsewhere the views are a poet’s dream.
Magpies, near horses, bop around - perhaps for aroused worms;
Laburnums sprung yellow, and hawthorns white,
Pleasingly, in nature, border the fields of farming-firms,
And help enclose this Radcliffe rural site;
Plus, as I meander home from a day’s factory toil,
The sun, when it sets in a clear sky,
Forms a large amber ball, behind a converted cotton-mill -
Signalling another day almost by.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On May 10, 10:13 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> With talk about the unbeatable "big four" in our news, it's worth
> remembering that, not so long ago, club football in England was mostly-
> locals in MEANIGFUL competition...
>
> Poem 98 of 230: REREGULATE
>
> One Premier world-eleven v.
> Another such company,
> Or wage-caps and say half each-club’s squad
> From the local-junior pod?
> And, perhaps, heed the cricket-fan's call
> To convert to county-football..?
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
Oh my gawd- signs of intelligent life...!
=~^^~=
' '
^
~
walkaboutsverse
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G
(A tad early this time, as I'm off to the Hexham Gathering tomorrow,
where there should be more "intelligent life"/folk music, David!)
Poem-come-song 111 of 230: THE MERSEY AT DIDSBURY - SPRING 2000
Took bus one-four-three,
From Piccadilly,
Along Oxford Road;
Passed the old uni’s,
Those shops with saris,
And my first abode.
At Didsbury Village,
The Old Parsonage
Looked neat, and gave sound,
As I walked the way,
At about midday,
To a Mersey mound.
From atop this bank,
No longer a blank
Was the strong river,
Nor the wide fairways -
Where I’d filled two days,
Twelve years earlier.
I then headed back,
On Stenner Woods’ track
(Hearing more birdsong,
And seeing mossed stumps
Plus well-layered clumps),
To a human throng.
This throng was viewing -
Justly pursuing -
The smart Rock Gardens,
Sloped on Fletcher Moss,
Which I, too, did cross,
Before homeward wends.
David George
My great grand-dad sailed down the Mersey to come to NZ in 1878.
His name was George George, so pick which name to call him by.
I like long lines, and short to be like either Whitman, or cummings
needle or thread, or long dangling boot laces,
to stitch together time and places and memory...
walkaboutsverse
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
Poem 112 of 230: FROM AN ECCLES FLAT - SPRING 2000
The bedroom window’s southerly views
Contained allotters paying their dues -
All kinds of veg. brought to fruition,
And youngsters receiving tuition;
Starlings and sparrows I’d often see -
On a roof or a nearby tree;
And, in a distant poplar perched high,
The large twiggy nest of a magpie;
In spring, daisies would yellow the floor -
Matched by Forsythias, grown next door;
Behind terraces, a moony crest -
The Dome of the new Trafford complex;
And the moon itself, in the right spot,
Would light the night’s clouds up quite a lot.
The kitchen window’s northerly views
Included an agent selling news;
A butcher struggling with position -
Much sunlight aimed at his nutrition;
And a popular English chippie -
Mashed peas and red sauce on top, for me;
White gulls dotting a sombre grey sky,
Plus light- and large-aircraft flying by;
Walkers and traffic would make a roar -
At peak travel hours all the more;
Handsomely-set skies toward the west
As the day’s sun took its nightly rest;
And a bucket-pond and ivy plot,
That, on a shoestring, I loved a lot.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> to stitch together time and places and memory...- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 229 of 230: JOYS OF LIFE
Leightons, and other great art;
Plumes of fireworks at night;
The vivid reds of sunrise -
Repeated at day’s last light.
The beats through us of a drum;
Winter’s sun felt through closed glass;
Handing in the last exam;
Awakenings – alarmless!
The ball off thee whacks their net;
When to palms leather has stuck;
Orange juice during half-time;
A warm bath to wash the muck.
Viewing set-over cricket;
A golf ball, for once, well struck;
Viewing velodrome cycling;
From net-chord, levelling luck!
Sticks, chants, didgeridoo,
Haunting harps, and all bagpipes;
Clog, flamenco, tamure,
Hula, and other dance types.
Out, by a cast, being told;
In - taking tea and T.V.;
Highland views that command rest;
The buildings of Italy.
Thrifty plant-propagation;
By a wave one’s body hit;
Upstream of camp - with paddle;
By a fire - strongly lit.
Forest spent-leaves under foot;
Tasting a host-nation’s fare;
Alcedo atthis at work;
Just bills being brought to bear.
Allegros when feeling low;
An andante to wind down;
Spoken French and chorused song;
The quiet when out of town.
A stroll through a kept garden,
Before Sunday’s roast dinner;
A pub game, drink and meal;
One’s team a comeback winner.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 204 of 230: ON FISHING REGULATION
It’s not just what’s taken
That needs regulation:
Alive, caught fish suffer -
Sometimes, right till supper;
And, when some fish are farmed,
Homing instincts are harmed.
But to most it’s insane
To fret over such pain -
Though as much to a dog
Would leave many agog.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
Hmmmmmmmm ah should be paying more 'tention to this thread...
the only real sign of life in this sad sick scenario........ huh?
riting this from macdonalds in the beeg sitty...
need a little slice of sanity...
here on good ol'usap
reckon "dog" is both a noun an' a verb
could make a minimalist construction out of that one { }
I like your work... i feed off of your constructs...
genesis- synthesis... not yr carbon copy... oh no!
ka mau to wehi!
hwyl fawr,
David.
walkaboutsverse
words, but I doubt I pronounce them correctly.)
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
Poem 195 of 230: MUSING ON WIMBLEDON - SUMMER 2002
2001 got somewhat cheeky,
So, on my T.V., I was pleased to see
Old-fashioned etiquette about the net...
But oh! to get among the coaching set.
Thus, here is a feature that I'd teach:
Two-hands each side – either off when can't reach.
And, as for thoughts on pay, I do not say
"Amateur play" but "spread-out the outlay."
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
David George
> (Hi David - was that some Maori you used?...I only know the haka
> words, but I doubt I pronounce them correctly.)
Ae, he tika, ka korero au te reo rangatira i te kaimahi...
yes, I can speak the maori of the worker....
most people don't... but in fact the pronounciation from tribe to
tribe
was a variant as English amonst the various counties...
my writing career has taken a turn for the better
feel assured that i will be mining your work for
interesting words and turns of phrase lol....
-D.
walkaboutsverse
(A tad early this week, as I'm off to the Durham Traditional Music
Festival tomorrow)
Poem 136 of 230: LANCASHIRE SUNG SIMPLY
Lancashire:
Cut by rivers, met by sea;
Patched by farmland,
Mills and other industry.
Lancashire:
With your Pennine boundary;
Steeped in hist'ry,
Through your buildings, there to see.
Lancashire:
Where, through Graces, moorlands be;
Wooded parklands,
Flowered gardens - kept neatly.
Lancashire:
Red Rose County, God's blessed thee.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
A Lancshire lass called Ann Schade
owned a shanty near here.
Where the golddiggers came to drink.
I could make up a poem about it
but then I would have to think.
I like my verse to be fluid
a twentyfirst century druid
and if Ann came back
she would take up the slack
and lubricate my parched worker's throat...
with her oil and juice
and her banter- what's the use?
defending and countering her wiles.
She did two months for shooting
a punter [in the foot].
Now thats not a poem...
or rather a poem like a frayed piece of rope...
I want my work to be real and imediate...
David.
Rob
<1a77d7fe-153c-450b...@j22g2000hsf.googlegroups.com>,
walkaboutsverse <david1...@yahoo.com> writes
>THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>(A tad early this week, as I'm off to the Durham Traditional Music
>Festival tomorrow)
>
>Poem 136 of 230: LANCASHIRE SUNG SIMPLY
>
>Lancashire:
>Cut by rivers, met by sea;
>Patched by farmland,
>Mills and other industry.
>
>Lancashire:
>With your Pennine boundary;
>Steeped in hist'ry,
What the f'ck?
>Through your buildings, there to see.
>
>Lancashire:
>Where, through Graces, moorlands be;
>Wooded parklands,
>Flowered gardens - kept neatly.
>
>Lancashire:
>Red Rose County, God's blessed thee.
>
>From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
>On Jun 22, 8:25 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>> On Jun 21, 8:02 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>>
>> > (Hi David - was that some Maori you used?...I only know the haka
>> > words, but I doubt I pronounce them correctly.)
>>
>> Ae, he tika, ka korero au te reo rangatira i te kaimahi...
>>
>> yes, I can speak the maori of the worker....
>>
>> most people don't... but in fact the pronounciation from tribe to
>> tribe
>> was a variant as English amonst the various counties...
>>
>> my writing career has taken a turn for the better
>>
>> feel assured that i will be mining your work for
>> interesting words and turns of phrase lol....
>>
>> -D.
>
--
Rob Evans
--
Posted via NewsDemon.com - Premium Uncensored Newsgroup Service
------->>>>>>http://www.NewsDemon.com<<<<<<------
Unlimited Access, Anonymous Accounts, Uncensored Broadband Access
David George
> What the f'ck?
this character caint even spell his expletives correctly
'so what the heck?' you might ask- this is usenet-
if he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning
and if we were billygoats gruff we might 'pass the buck'
and carry on tO the grazing fields of fresh pasture.
Rob Evans at his best can be more or less companionable
but he prefers his close associates who can be less than edifying-
so lets posit here one gruff billy goat and three or more trolls
and let me, the johnny-on-the-spot, deal with this character...
this item does not appear to have a soft spot anywhere
it might pay in that case to wear him down with damp praise
to piss on his knee in like mind and force him into dumb-
founded but incipient rage. Watch him, my leg lifts, aims...
squirt. His ginormous head lowers mometarily. Our chance!
D A V I
D
walkaboutsverse
http://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
walkaboutsverse
Poem 118 of 230: WHALLEY ABBEY...WHAT TALES? - AUTUMN 2000
Cistercian monks have clearly been -
Their Abbey’s ruins can still be seen;
And, sounding for centuries before,
Calder flows have passed - seeking the shore.
Lords of the grounds have, more lately, stayed -
Their manor houses reused and unscathed.
Through beautiful gardens insects fly -
The ruins of folk just a pass-by;
And, by viaduct, trains pass above -
Folk thereby viewing a town I love.
Anglers and C. of E. delegates,
Hikers and tourists, have crossed the gates...
Opportunistic masons, kings-men,
Model makers, Turner, and men who pen...
Perhaps the witches came down from the hill,
And do ghosts haunt - still questing their fill..?
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Jul 2, 9:28 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Footnote - I've just posted a recording of "Lancashire Sung Simply" onhttp://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
> > D- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
(Tad early this week, as I'll be at the Rothbury Traditional Music
Festival tomorrow.)
Poem 16 of 230: A BEAUTIFUL STAGE
If a couple, with plans to wed,
Asked me, off the top of my head,
For somewhere I thought well in tune
As a place for a honeymoon,
It would have - flashing back - to be
Beautifully-honed Italy.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Jul 5, 10:48 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 118 of 230: WHALLEY ABBEY...WHAT TALES? - AUTUMN 2000
>
> Cistercian monks have clearly been -
> Their Abbey’s ruins can still be seen;
> And, sounding for centuries before,
> Calder flows have passed - seeking the shore.
> Lords of the grounds have, more lately, stayed -
> Their manor houses reused and unscathed.
> Through beautiful gardens insects fly -
> The ruins of folk just a pass-by;
> And, by viaduct, trains pass above -
> Folk thereby viewing a town I love.
> Anglers and C. of E. delegates,
> Hikers and tourists, have crossed the gates...
> Opportunistic masons, kings-men,
> Model makers, Turner, and men who pen...
> Perhaps the witches came down from the hill,
> And do ghosts haunt - still questing their fill..?
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> On Jul 2, 9:28 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>
> > Footnote - I've just posted a recording of "Lancashire Sung Simply" onhttp://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
>
> > On Jun 30, 10:20 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > On Jul 1, 2:53 am, Rob <r...@mla001.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>
> > > > What the f'ck?
>
> > > this character caint even spell his expletives correctly
> > > 'so what the heck?' you might ask- this is usenet-
> > > if he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning
>
> > > and if we were billygoats gruff we might 'pass the buck'
> > > and carry on tO the grazing fields of fresh pasture.
>
> > > Rob Evans at his best can be more or less companionable
> > > but he prefers his close associates who can be less than edifying-
>
> > > so lets posit here one gruff billy goat and three or more trolls
> > > and let me, the johnny-on-the-spot, deal with this character...
>
> > > this item does not appear to have a soft spot anywhere
> > > it might pay in that case to wear him down with damp praise
>
> > > to piss on his knee in like mind and force him into dumb-
> > > founded but incipient rage. Watch him, my leg lifts, aims...
> > > squirt. His ginormous head lowers mometarily. Our chance!
>
> > > D A V I
> > > D- Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
The Open is on at Birkdale, hence...
Poem 221 of 230: MAJORS
If golf taps the world for its players
(And few would deny that so),
Why, then, are three of four majors
A United States Tour show?
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Jul 11, 3:35 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
> (Tad early this week, as I'll be at the Rothbury Traditional Music
> Festival tomorrow.)
>
> Poem 16 of 230: A BEAUTIFUL STAGE
>
> If a couple, with plans to wed,
> Asked me, off the top of my head,
> For somewhere I thought well in tune
> As a place for a honeymoon,
> It would have - flashing back - to be
> Beautifully-honed Italy.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G...
Poem 48 of 230: THE PROMS
We walked through Kensington Gardens,
Then made a left for Albert Hall.
Promenaders were in their tens,
While others had found their stall,
As we took our pre-booked seats.
The seats were of restricted view -
Three-quarters of the orchestra.
But the music sure bettered par:
The beautiful sounds of Mozart;
The daring drama of Ravel.
And we liked it - me and a belle.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Jul 19, 11:26 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
> The Open is on at Birkdale, hence...
>
> Poem 221 of 230: MAJORS
>
> If golf taps the world for its players
> (And few would deny that so),
> Why, then, are three of four majors
> A United States Tour show?
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
(I wrote this just after repatriating 11 years ago.)
Poem 43 of 230: A BAYSWATER BED-SIT
Arrived in London,
At Heathrow Airport -
With sixty kilos
Of luggage I'd brought.
Found a paper, Loot,
And called an agent;
Stored two heavy bags,
Then to him I went.
For one week of rent,
He'd ensure a bed
Within Bayswater -
A bed-sit, he said.
It was eighty pounds
Per week, nothing more,
With a lift arranged
To the building's door.
Knackered and sleepless,
I took the deal;
Checked-in quickly,
Had a rushed meal.
Collected my bags
(Tube there, shared-van back),
Then carried them up
To my top-floor shack.
A penthouse - no need,
It did me just fine;
A cook-top and fridge,
A table to dine.
Seated, I could watch
The clouds roll by -
Often from the west -
Or jets cut the sky.
There were large plane-trees,
A squirrel or two;
And pigeons dropped by -
Foregrounding the view.
Plus, at dawn, the sun
Shined in from the east -
Filling the small room
As on egg I’d feast.
And contemplating,
It occurs to me -
If all lived that well,
How great it would be.
But a lot do sleep
Outdoors many nights -
On sheets of cardboard,
Without basic rights.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Jul 25, 7:10 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> A tad early this week as I'm out tomorrow at the Durham Folk Party -
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G...
>
> Poem 48 of 230: THE PROMS
>
> We walked through Kensington Gardens,
> Then made a left for Albert Hall.
> Promenaders were in their tens,
> While others had found their stall,
> As we took our pre-booked seats.
> The seats were of restricted view -
> Three-quarters of the orchestra.
> But the music sure bettered par:
> The beautiful sounds of Mozart;
> The daring drama of Ravel.
> And we liked it - me and a belle.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
Oh a bruised, burst jugular!
> Found a paper, Loot,
> And called an agent;
> Stored two heavy bags,
> Then to him I went
that fourth line clangs like two descending bollocks.
it builds the rhyme but at what a cost?
-D.
walkaboutsverse
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
Poem 36 of 230: WALKABOUT MEXICO
In late December,
1996,
I can remember
Being in a fix -
For time and pesos -
And, thus, unable
To see Mexico’s
Sights commendable.
So, in Tijuana,
I enjoyed the show
At a miniature
Rep. of Mexico.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> -D.- Hide quoted text -
David George
> (Sorry, David - can't think of a better alternative at the moment...)
>
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 36 of 230: WALKABOUT MEXICO
>
> In late December,
> 1996,
> I can remember
> Being in a fix -
> For time and pesos -
> And, thus, unable
> To see Mexico’s
> Sights commendable.
>
> So, in Tijuana,
> I enjoyed the show
> At a miniature
> Rep. of Mexico.
>
yep... keeping your foot in the pool...
reading your work switched me on to Woger Whittaker...
his Durham town sort of thing... Utoob is great and i
use it regularly now...
-D.
walkaboutsverse
UKMusicFolk, how titles are changed.
David George
> ...okay David, and I've just discovered, and complained about on
> UKMusicFolk, how titles are changed.
Our forum here is taking a turn for the better. One officianado,
'creator' has held the floor
for some time. Left to their own devices such posters so get puffed
out eventually. This
is a good stamping ground, the net... instant publication. I went
through that phase of
excessive zest and I would recommend it.
Capturing an audience is another thing again.
:>)
-D.
walkaboutsverse
Poem 33 of 230: TO CARE AND SHARE
(This is also 1 of my 17 "Chants from Walkabouts" CD.)
Within sunny California
(Just a wisp of smog arriba),
Not far from L.A’s Chinatown,
A rich driver looks, with a frown,
At a beggar sat on a crate:
Gaunt, it seems long since she last ate.
As the driver stops at the light,
The beggar moves her hand upright.
But, though the cap clasped holds small cash,
The rich man shares not his large stash.
Yet, to all it is plain to see,
This beggar lives in poverty.
But, like a fifth of humankind,
Little help this woman will find.
For too selfish the wealthy fare
To help the poor - to care and share.
And, in Tijuana, Mexico,
Another has no place to go -
It’s an hour before midnight,
And he’s curled outside a shopping site:
“He is sick,” I’m told, passing by;
“Him and the system,” I reply.
Then my hand to my pocket goes
For all my coins - sixteen pesos.
Enough for three meals - beans, rice;
But, for a home, it won’t suffice.
Yet, to all it is plain to see,
This pauper dwells in poverty.
But, like one fifth of humankind,
Small help this sick hombre will find.
‘Cause too competitive most fare
To change the scheme - to care and share.
In Bangkok and Barcelona,
Bombay, Melbourne and Manila -
Such woes exist all round the globe:
Poor food, poor clothes and no abode.
These are Maslov’s essential needs,
And they can be met - with good deeds.
The beggars all could leave the street -
With some kit for body and feet.
But voted leaders cut the aid
From which much housing could be made.
Yet, to all it is plain to see,
Too many live in poverty.
But, from the rest of humankind,
A lack of help they tend to find.
For too greedy most snug-ones fare
To fix the need - to care and share.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
There's one line here which seems to clash:
[> But, though the cap clasped holds small cash,]
> The rich man shares not his large stash.
I'd be tempted to change the line
because you have to force the rhyme.
-David.
walkaboutsverse
guess it's...
Poem 54 of 230: HOBSON’S CHOICE
During a day trip to Cambridge,
My uncle showed the confined space
That left punters no choice to face -
Using Hobson’s trade of carriage.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 149 of 230: FOR BETTER OR WORSE
Largely due to America,
English - to use Italian -
Is now the world’s lingua franca,
Where, it seems, it once was Latin;
But, while brogues are a good thing,
I doubt American spelling.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Sep 6, 11:12 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Can't think of any other way of putting it, at the moment, David, so I
> guess it's...
>
> Poem 54 of 230: HOBSON’S CHOICE
>
> During a day trip to Cambridge,
> My uncle showed the confined space
> That left punters no choice to face -
> Using Hobson’s trade of carriage.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> On Aug 30, 6:31 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
>
>
> > On Aug 30, 8:13 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > There's one line here which seems to clash:
>
> > [> But, though the cap clasped holds small cash,]
>
> > > The rich man shares not his large stash.
>
> > I'd be tempted to change the line
> > because you have to force the rhyme.
>
> > -David.- Hide quoted text -
David George
> THE WEEKLY WALKAOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 149 of 230: FOR BETTER OR WORSE
>
> Largely due to America,
> English - to use Italian -
> Is now the world’s lingua franca,
> Where, it seems, it once was Latin;
> But, while brogues are a good thing,
> I doubt American spelling.
>
>
> On Sep 6, 11:12 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>
> > Can't think of any other way of putting it, at the moment, David, so I
> > guess it's...
>
> > Poem 54 of 230: HOBSON’S CHOICE
>
> > During a day trip to Cambridge,
> > My uncle showed the confined space
> > That left punters no choice to face -
> > Using Hobson’s trade of carriage.
>
> > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > On Aug 30, 6:31 pm, David George <dafyd...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > On Aug 30, 8:13 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > > There's one line here which seems to clash:
>
> > > [> But, though the cap clasped holds small cash,]
>
> > > > The rich man shares not his large stash.
>
> > > I'd be tempted to change the line
> > > because you have to force the rhyme.
>
> > > -David.- Hide quoted text -
>
>
> - Show quoted text -
Yes. I am sick of americans trying to tell me how to spell
as far as i am concerned their lexicon can go to hell
as and for punctuation, well, cain't they see we are on-line
this is a brand new ball-game and you and I are doin' fine.
-dumb David.
walkaboutsverse
WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G. is...
Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM
No income-scale would be unjust -
It’s a matter of degree;
And, to have less inequality,
Regulations are a must.
For, in Millennium’s status quo,
The pay-gaps for human work,
And what’s gotten simply as a perk,
Are wrong - inhumanely so.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> -dumb David.- Hide quoted text -
David George
> Following the free-market farce of the last week, this week's
> WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G. is...
>
> Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM
>
> No income-scale would be unjust -
> It’s a matter of degree;
> And, to have less inequality,
> Regulations are a must.
>
> For, in Millennium’s status quo,
> The pay-gaps for human work,
> And what’s gotten simply as a perk,
> Are wrong - inhumanely so.
>
The global village thus immures
each nation lost once now ensures
as we teeter all on our earth's crust
our common code: in thee we thrust.
The yanks are going bye the bye
and common folks will wonder why
each empire falls each to its own
as wandering dogs fall to a bone.
The new world order is a boon
if only we all had the room
kashnolikovs rule the day it seems
and good folk see our ruined dreams
as greed looms forth and hate abides
the creature lurches to its doom
there aint no longer ways to hide
too many hide in one single room.
So ride the dream my friend and come
and dance to all but no one drum
see the world achieve, or collide,
the choice is ours, or someone lied.
David.
walkaboutsverse
Poem 82 of 230: ON ACTS 4:32-35
Believers were all one in heart and mind -
They shared their excesses, giving in kind.
No-one claimed any possessions one’s own -
Yes, it was socialism on the throne.
So not long were there desperate folk -
Fair distribution was the tongue they spoke.
And wealthy owners would sell part their deed -
Funds, via apostles, to those in need.
Yet today, all round our troubled earth,
Some Christians, safe at their own snug hearth,
Vote for their electorate’s Right-Wing party -
That’s hypocritical, it seems to me.
From http//:www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 2 of 230: WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
Once drove an old sedan, up north,
From a place in Sydney to Cairns;
Then to Kuranda I went forth,
By train, to look without set plans.
I browsed through the trendy market,
With fresh fruits of tropical kind;
Walked to the creek through lush thicket -
Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.
I dined in a scenic cafe;
Then, outside, as I wrote for yen,
Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey,
You go walkabout with your pen.”
Request or question, I don’t know -
Assured voices, elderly men.
That’s now several years ago,
And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
Or have a listen to it sung at http://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
walkaboutsverse
Poem 61 of 230: WORSLEY VILLAGE
Where earliest of coal-canals meet,
And have their waters ochred
By the seepage of old-deep-mine earth;
Where mock-Tudor is a treat,
And classic boats are newly coated
At dry-docks before rebirth;
Where miners made tough risky efforts,
Working seams for hours non-stop -
Cramped, often without the room to stand;
Where security experts
Now fill the Nailmakers Workshop -
On a canal-made island;
Where offices come from granaries,
And granaries from a forge -
Wheel-powered through a brook’s tillage;
Where coal moved down arteries,
And sandstone was quarried to a gorge:
Lies antique Worsley Village.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Oct 4, 8:19 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 2 of 230: WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
>
> Once drove an old sedan, up north,
> From a place in Sydney to Cairns;
> Then to Kuranda I went forth,
> By train, to look without set plans.
>
> I browsed through the trendy market,
> With fresh fruits of tropical kind;
> Walked to the creek through lush thicket -
> Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.
>
> I dined in a scenic cafe;
> Then, outside, as I wrote for yen,
> Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey,
> You go walkabout with your pen.”
>
> Request or question, I don’t know -
> Assured voices, elderly men.
> That’s now several years ago,
> And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> Or have a listen to it sung athttp://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
walkaboutsverse
Poem 138 of 230: AN OPIUM
National Lottery passes -
Slight chances to be richer,
With lots more than thy neighbour,
Gained without any labour -
Keep the system in favour:
An opium of the masses.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Oct 11, 9:53 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 61 of 230: WORSLEY VILLAGE
>
> Where earliest of coal-canals meet,
> And have their waters ochred
> By the seepage of old-deep-mine earth;
> Where mock-Tudor is a treat,
> And classic boats are newly coated
> At dry-docks before rebirth;
>
> Where miners made tough risky efforts,
> Working seams for hours non-stop -
> Cramped, often without the room to stand;
> Where security experts
> Now fill the Nailmakers Workshop -
> On a canal-made island;
>
> Where offices come from granaries,
> And granaries from a forge -
> Wheel-powered through a brook’s tillage;
> Where coal moved down arteries,
> And sandstone was quarried to a gorge:
> Lies antique Worsley Village.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
David George
>
> National Lottery passes -
> Slight chances to be richer,
> With lots more than thy neighbour,
> Gained without any labour -
> Keep the system in favour:
> An opium of the masses.
>
30 million is a lot-
between five people
just a sop
the eagle passes every home
and landed elsewhere
for everyone
but for those who hold the pot
some are sydicates, not the lot
a cool six million, one came south....
I watched the punter when a kid
rip up their tickets, dig out one more quid
hope is blind, an easy trip
paid for by the duped.
-D.
walkaboutsverse
THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
Poem 163 of 230: ON A CLEAR DAY - SUMMER 2001
Far - the Lakelands behind Blackpool Tower;
Well-ebbed - the ocean and estuary;
Odd - a sand-digger and wagons that cross;
Tonal - the flats left by tidal power;
Patched - the grasses surviving the big tides;
Plonked - the driftwood sprouted in other lands;
Clinging - the coastal flora to the dunes;
Busy - the bees and folks on Southport rides.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> -D.- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 116 of 230: MOSES GATE - SUMMER 2000
Bordering Bolton
Lies land with lodges -
Grassed and paved around,
With decking built on.
As well as these lakes
Of human-made kind,
Croal, Irwell, canal
Meet there like three snakes.
There’s ‘paths for horses,
A birdwatching hut,
An info. centre,
Plus walkers’ courses.
And, surrounding these,
The woods have grown thick,
So, viewed from afar,
Form a sight to please.
http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Oct 25, 10:19 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Thanks for your poem, David...a travel poem from me this time...
>
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 163 of 230: ON A CLEAR DAY - SUMMER 2001
>
> Far - the Lakelands behind Blackpool Tower;
> Well-ebbed - the ocean and estuary;
> Odd - a sand-digger and wagons that cross;
> Tonal - the flats left by tidal power;
> Patched - the grasses surviving the big tides;
> Plonked - the driftwood sprouted in other lands;
> Clinging - the coastal flora to the dunes;
> Busy - the bees and folks on Southport rides.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
in time for Armistice Day.)
Poem 212 of 230: REMEMBER THEM?
Back when we became defenders
(We have plainly been attackers),
Defenders’ blood, sweat and years
Were paid to keep a good home-way -
A way yet to be part stealth-blown,
As mass immigration gained-sway
And as we slipped as maintainers.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 187 of 230: A SOUTH SHIELDS WALKABOUT - AUTUMN 2001
Out of the museum-and-gallery
(Wiser on Cookson and the local way),
Down Ocean Road with, to the right of me,
Its eateries and, left, neat places to stay;
Before, on either side, Marine Parks -
The southern-one a most beautiful place,
Teeming with moorhens, swans, grebes and mallards
In a small lake at a scenic-hill’s base.
Then (holding chips from the parade’s cafe
And, thus, a flock of gulls squawking above)
Onto the South Pier I made my way:
Seeing seaweed over rocks - like a glove -
And high-and-dry sands held from transgression
By growth of grass and the weaving of wood,
Plus, in the dim light of a sleepy sun,
Fishing boats returning to Tynemouth’s hood.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Nov 7, 12:12 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> (A tad early this week as I'm at the Alnwick Gathering tomorrow, and
> in time for Armistice Day.)
>
> Poem 212 of 230: REMEMBER THEM?
>
> Back when we became defenders
> (We have plainly been attackers),
> Defenders’ blood, sweat and years
> Were paid to keep a good home-way -
> A way yet to be part stealth-blown,
> As mass immigration gained-sway
> And as we slipped as maintainers.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> ...
>
> read more »- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 95 of 230: A GOOD LIFE
To fauna,
Home-flora.
Sheep for wool -
Fed till full.
Chooks for eggs -
Free-range legs.
Milk from cows -
Should well house:
Better grade
Can be made.
Fish for game -
Cut the pain.
Dogs for pets -
No regrets.
And question
Castration.
This does say
Buddha’s way,
And Blake’s way:
A good life -
For all life.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Nov 15, 9:20 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 187 of 230: A SOUTH SHIELDS WALKABOUT - AUTUMN 2001
>
> Out of the museum-and-gallery
> (Wiser on Cookson and the local way),
> Down Ocean Road with, to the right of me,
> Its eateries and, left, neat places to stay;
> Before, on either side, Marine Parks -
> The southern-one a most beautiful place,
> Teeming with moorhens, swans, grebes and mallards
> In a small lake at a scenic-hill’s base.
>
> Then (holding chips from the parade’s cafe
> And, thus, a flock of gulls squawking above)
> Onto the South Pier I made my way:
> Seeing seaweed over rocks - like a glove -
> And high-and-dry sands held from transgression
> By growth of grass and the weaving of wood,
> Plus, in the dim light of a sleepy sun,
> Fishing boats returning to Tynemouth’s hood.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 95 of 230: A GOOD LIFE
To fauna,
Home-flora.
Sheep for wool -
Fed till full.
Chooks for eggs -
Free-range legs.
Milk from cows -
Should well house:
Better grade
Can be made.
Fish for game -
Cut the pain.
Dogs for pets -
No regrets.
And question
Castration.
This does say
Buddha’s way,
And Blake’s way:
A good life -
For all life.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Nov 15, 9:20 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 187 of 230: A SOUTH SHIELDS WALKABOUT - AUTUMN 2001
>
> Out of the museum-and-gallery
> (Wiser on Cookson and the local way),
> Down Ocean Road with, to the right of me,
> Its eateries and, left, neat places to stay;
> Before, on either side, Marine Parks -
> The southern-one a most beautiful place,
> Teeming with moorhens, swans, grebes and mallards
> In a small lake at a scenic-hill’s base.
>
> Then (holding chips from the parade’s cafe
> And, thus, a flock of gulls squawking above)
> Onto the South Pier I made my way:
> Seeing seaweed over rocks - like a glove -
> And high-and-dry sands held from transgression
> By growth of grass and the weaving of wood,
> Plus, in the dim light of a sleepy sun,
> Fishing boats returning to Tynemouth’s hood.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 199 of 230: BEDE’S WORLD - WINTER 2002/3
During Advent, I returned to Bede’s World,
Where I, already read, was further schooled -
Via walks through the museum, the farm,
The ruins, and the church with its old arm.
With gifts, I left, after some four hours,
To round off, at home, my thoughts on ours.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Nov 22, 10:09 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 95 of 230: A GOOD LIFE
>
> To fauna,
> Home-flora.
> Sheep for wool -
> Fed till full.
> Chooks for eggs -
> Free-range legs.
> Milk from cows -
> Should well house:
> Better grade
> Can be made.
> Fish for game -
> Cut the pain.
> Dogs for pets -
> No regrets.
> And question
> Castration.
>
> This does say
> Buddha’s way,
> And Blake’s way:
> A good life -
> For all life.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 224 of 230: THE NATIVITY
Vis-à-vis S.C.,
I prefer to see
Christian children’s glee
When they play-out the
Coming of J.C. -
The Nativity.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Nov 29, 9:53 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 199 of 230: BEDE’S WORLD - WINTER 2002/3
>
> During Advent, I returned to Bede’s World,
> Where I, already read, was further schooled -
> Via walks through the museum, the farm,
> The ruins, and the church with its old arm.
> With gifts, I left, after some four hours,
> To round off, at home, my thoughts on ours.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 154 of 230: GETTING TO KNOW GOD
God lets us go
Our own way -
Until the Day;
Now and then, though,
He has a Say
In His own Way -
Prophets to Sow,
Deserts to Pay.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Nov 22, 10:09 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 95 of 230: A GOOD LIFE
>
> To fauna,
> Home-flora.
> Sheep for wool -
> Fed till full.
> Chooks for eggs -
> Free-range legs.
> Milk from cows -
> Should well house:
> Better grade
> Can be made.
> Fish for game -
> Cut the pain.
> Dogs for pets -
> No regrets.
> And question
> Castration.
>
> This does say
> Buddha’s way,
> And Blake’s way:
> A good life -
> For all life.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
230 of 230: CHRISTMAS SUNG SIMPLY
As gospellers have said,
Beneath signalling skies,
On land dusty to tread,
A trough in a stable
Was the strawy first-bed
Of a divine baby -
The forgiving Godhead.
A season for new hope -
There then and here now;
The yuletide of goodwill -
There then and here now.
In respect of this chance,
Beneath bright or dark skies,
Faith's the star that we glance
Attending Christ's churches
And trying to enhance,
With singing and ritual,
Our God-loving stance.
A...
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com or hear it at
http://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
On Dec 13, 9:43 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 154 of 230: GETTING TO KNOW GOD
>
> God lets us go
> Our own way -
> Until the Day;
> Now and then, though,
> He has a Say
> In His own Way -
> Prophets to Sow,
> Deserts to Pay.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
walkaboutsverse
Poem 219 of 230: FURTHER ANTI-IMPERIALISM
Let each Christian nation have its own Church -
Equal, before God, with the others’ Search.
From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
On Dec 20, 10:49 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> 230 of 230: CHRISTMAS SUNG SIMPLY
>
> As gospellers have said,
> Beneath signalling skies,
> On land dusty to tread,
> A trough in a stable
> Was the strawy first-bed
> Of a divine baby -
> The forgiving Godhead.
>
> A season for new hope -
> There then and here now;
> The yuletide of goodwill -
> There then and here now.
>
> In respect of this chance,
> Beneath bright or dark skies,
> Faith's the star that we glance
> Attending Christ's churches
> And trying to enhance,
> With singing and ritual,
> Our God-loving stance.
>
> A...
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.comor hear it athttp://www.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse