‘Going to School’ Poem by C J Dennis

IMG_20180803_091129
Published by Random House Australia, November 2011 https://www.penguin.com.au/books/classic-australian-poems-9781742753621

Going to School

C J Dennis

 

Did you see them pass today, Billy, Kate and Robin,
All astride upon the back of old grey Dobbin?
Jigging, jogging off to school, down the dusty track––
What must Dobbin think of it––three upon his back?
Robin at the bridle-rein, in the middle Kate,
Billy holding on behind, his legs out straight.

Now they’re coming back from school, jig, jog, jig.
See them at the corner where the gums grow big;
Dobbin flicking off the flies and blinking at the sun––
Having three upon his back he thinks is splendid fun:
Robin at the bridle-rein, in the middle Kate,
Little Billy up behind, his legs out straight.

Poem originally published in ‘A Book for Kids’ 1921

 

IMG_20180801_210630
Poem by Clarence Michael James Dennis, better known as Australian poet C J Dennis (Sept 1876 – June 1938) who had a variety of jobs, from bar tender, secretary to a senator, to publisher and editor. He is fondly remembered for the humorous stories and verse he wrote for big city newspapers and was dubbed ‘laureate of the larrikin’ which means he penned prose about boisterous, unruly people. GBW.

Ever get poetry nostalgia?  Australian school children learn poems by C J Dennis, Henry Lawson, Banjo Paterson and many more.  Often a particular poet’s verse follows them through life, even though their lives are nothing like the rough and tumble era in which these pioneer poets wrote.

Changes were afoot in Australia in late nineteenth/early twentieth century and were reflected in the country’s poetry.  In the evening, after dinner, someone would recite a poem or two.  Years later, I grew up with Banjo Paterson’s ‘The Man From Snowy River’, a rollicking ode to bush men, stock riders, the dangerously rugged land and the great value of horses.

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

‘My Dragon Reads Books’ Rhyme

IMG_20180629_141407

My Dragon Reads Books

My dragon gives me dirty looks,

When I borrow his favourite books.

I settle down in cosy nooks,

Or rest beside babbling brooks,

To read about pirates with curvy hooks,

And wildly passionate celebrity cooks,

And scattered flocks of noisy rooks,

And a veggie patch of scratching chooks.

There’s even a dungeon full of crooks,

Trying to hide from shimmering spooks.

My dear dragon sulks and sooks,

He folds his wings and mutters ‘zooks’,

Then joins with me to read his books.

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

Dragon Computer Gretchen

Henry Lawson’s Birthday Tribute

Henry Lawson Photograph 1902
Henry Lawson 1902

It’s Henry Lawson’s birthday today.  Writer, poet and balladist, Henry Archibald Hertzberg Lawson (17 June 1867–2 Sept 1922) redefined and immortalised early Australian life despite suffering many hardships including deafness.  Along with his contemporary Andrew ‘Banjo’ Paterson, Henry Lawson is among the best-known Australian bush poets and fiction writers of the Colonial period.  He was the son of the poet, publisher and feminist Louisa Lawson.


Henry Lawson Bush Poem

Read the full version of this ballad on Australian Poetry Library website.


Henry Lawson Poetry Book
‘While the Billy Boils’ is a collection of short stories in prose and verse by iconic Australian writer Henry Lawson, published by Angus and Robertson in 1896.  It includes ‘The Drover’s Wife’, ‘On the Edge of a Plain’ and ‘The Union Buries Its Dead’.

Quote: “Old Mathews drank to drown sorrow, which is the strongest swimmer in the world.”  The Ridiculous Family, from ‘Triangles of Life and Other Stories’ (1913)

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

Exquisite Corpse Parlour Game

Scribbles Masterclass Melbourne May 2018 05
Test your memory and see if you can name any poets from the lines I picked randomly during a timed exercise. “Like gold to airy thinness beat” is from Valediction, Forbidding Mourning by John Donne (1573–1631)

This game can be adapted for writers, artists, poets and movie fans!

 

  • There are two versions.  The version attributed to the Surrealist Movement is when the weirdest possible head, torso, legs of the Exquisite Corpse are drawn by three different players, each folding over the paper so the next person can’t see the results until it is unfolded at the end of the game.

 

  • “Consequences” is the original name of this literary pen and paper parlour game which has been played since the 1800s Victorian Era.  A random sentence is written near the top of the page.  The paper is folded over then passed to several other participants who add to it and fold until it reaches the last person, or the bottom of the page.  The paper is unfolded and the whole “story” is revealed––often with hilarious results.

 

  • Alternatively, photocopied lines from classic poems can be cut into strips and jumbled into a bowl.  Each player blindly chooses nine strips but uses only seven to form a poem.  The mind takes over, sorting and assembling into a reasonably cohesive format.  The verse pictured above is what I put together in a recent Masterclass during a timed exercise.  My Exquisite Corpse earned the comment “feels Gothic and dark”.

 

  • To quote Academy of American Poets: “The only hard and fast rule of Exquisite Corpse is that each participant is unaware of what the others have written, thus producing a surprising—sometimes absurd—yet often beautiful poem. Exquisite Corpse is a great way to collaborate with other poets, and to free oneself from imaginative constraints or habits.”

 

  • Minor changes have been added to Exquisite Corpse over time, from using a single word to including famous lines from books and movies.  For example, you can jot down your favourite movie quote, fold over the paper then pass it on.  See what you can pitch with Arnold Schwarzenegger or Hugh Jackman.  In book mode, an amalgamation of Germaine Greer and Nora Roberts could prove interesting.

 

  • This formula for fun was kindly supplied by WordPress blogger Life After Sixty-Five who wrote––“Here is my favourite version of Exquisite Corpse, though I have played the version where a human body is drawn”––

    He (male name, fold) – someone we all knew, or someone famous
    met She (female name, fold) – could be someone famous, or someone playing the game etc.
    at (place, fold)
    He wore (description of clothes, fold)
    She wore (description of clothes, fold)
    He asked, (question, fold)
    She replied, (answers question, fold)
    And along came (person, fold)
    And so they decided to (decision, fold)
    And in the end…(finish, fold)
    “…the gales of laughter at the silly stories…”


Language Is A Virus
website has the history of Exquisite Corpse and suggested books on the subject.  They started a poem which has been running since 2000 and you can add to the silliness.

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

Exquisite Corpse Quill and Inkpot

 

A Clogyrnach Poem

It’s always enjoyable learning something new, and the format of James Aitchison’s eye-opening Clogyrnach poem is new to me. It’s cleverly gruesome and funny!Dentist Drilling Teeth

Australian Children's Poetry

A CLOGYRNACH GOES

TO THE DENTIST

           (A clogyrnach is a six-line Welsh poem.  

           Lines 1 and 2 have eight syllables with an a rhyme;

           lines 3 and 4 have five syllables with a b rhyme;

           line 5 has three syllables with a b rhyme;

           line 6 has three syllables with an a rhyme.)

I went to the dentist last week;

he opened my mouth for a peek.

When he saw inside,    

his eyes goggled wide.

What he spied

made him shriek.

The news he gave me was chilling,

All of your front teeth need filling;

they’re full of decay,

I’ll fix them today!

I said, “Yay!

s

View original post 79 more words

A Poem by Pete Crowther

‘On Holding a Granite Pebble Found on the Beach’

Beach 04

How many tides

have rolled it round,

this stone I hold

warm in my hand?

 

Rose-pink and grey

it is, you’d say,

the sky at dawn,

or held this way,

the silver glitter

of sun on water.

 

Sea-washed and smooth

it seems to breathe,

familiar there

like an old friend,

or a father’s warm palm

to the hand of a child.

 

Poem by Pete Crowther

‘On Holding a Granite Pebble Found on the Beach’
https://www.poemhunter.com/poems/beach/page-2/613435/
Pete Crowther
https://www.poemhunter.com/pete-crowther/biography/
Website
https://www.poemhunter.com/

 

This is a break from my poetry and I do love this one.

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

IMG_20180309_104012

Burning Cauldron of Summer

Maud Fitch 05
Maud Fitch lives in a subtropical climate and 2018 summer has been extremely hot.

Hot nights, boiling days
Anger bites, temper frays.

Clothes stick, sweat drips
Fans click, weekend trips.

Seaside splashes, kids squeal
Sand rashes, sunburn peel.

Straw hats, ice-cream soothes
Cricket bats, sluggish moves.

Lush green, drooping leaves
Magpies preen, beetle weaves.

Shimmering heat, mown grass
Barbecued meat, chilled glass.

Family spats, neighbour snoops
Buzzing gnats, endless loops.

Afternoon heat, swaying palm
Tired feet, wanting calm.

Soft breeze, cooler places
Air-con freeze, calmer faces.

Car toots, dog greets
Unlace boots, cotton sheets.

Dissolving day, warm rain
Moonlight ray, night again.

Maud Fitch

Saturday is young … then

Sebastian 003

Boredom sets in––

Think of something
Not cooking
Not cleaning
Not walking
Not tai chi
Not writing
Not doing anything

Boredom sets in––

Start a project
Ideas flow
Creativity expands
Love it
Best work ever
I can do more
Much more

Boredom sets in––

It is tricky
It is hard
It will never end
Why did I start
I don’t like it
I hate this thing
Had enough

Boredom sets in.

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

 


Boredom – even the explanations are boring!  Etymology and terminology:

(1) In conventional usage, boredom is an emotional or psychological state experienced when an individual is left without anything in particular to do, is not interested in his or her surroundings or feels that a day or period is dull or tedious.

(2) ‎The word boredom comes from a device called a “boring tool”, a kind of drill that works slowly and repetitively; around 1768, bore, meaning “be tiresome” became a popular slang term and the word “boredom” soon followed.


 

Springtime Ode

September and spring is emerging in the southern hemisphere. And my garden!

Luminous Fluoro Flowers
My ode to springtime using DooDooLite

I have just found out what Crocosmia means!  Small, brightly coloured funnel-shaped blooms, sword-shaped foliage, grown from bulbs similar to the Iris family.  Grouped together they make ideal, butterfly-friendly floral displays.  Such a variety of colours and shapes to gladden the heart of any artistic gardener.

On Gardenia Creating Gardens website, companion planting with Crocosmia is reminiscent of English cottage gardens (see below) although they are natives of South Africa.  I haven’t planted Crocosmia, I should, they tolerate Brisbane’s subtropical climate, humidity, heat and current drought-like conditions.

Flower Crocosmia
https://www.gardenia.net/guide/Great-Companion-Plants-for-Your-Crocosmia

Since Queensland won’t be getting tropical rainfall for a couple of months yet, I will satisfy myself with what I can photograph in my own meagre garden; and add excerpts from some famous poems about springtime.

IMG_3811
“Spring” by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy pear tree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
IMG_3818
“A Light Exists in Spring” by Emily Dickinson
A Colour stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
IMG_3822
“September in Australia” by Henry Kendall 
Grey Winter hath gone, like a wearisome guest,
And, behold, for repayment,
September comes in with the wind of the West
And the Spring in her raiment!
The ways of the frost have been filled of the flowers,
While the forest discovers
Wild wings, with the halo of hyaline hours,
And the music of lovers.
Azalea and Dragon
“Lines Written in Early Spring” by William Wordsworth
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
Gnomes
“Australian Spring” by Hugh McCrae
And jolly Spring, with love and laughter gay
Full fountaining, lets loose her tide of bees
Upon the waking ember-flame of bloom
New kindled in the honey-scented trees.
IMG_3829
“Spring” by Christina Georgina Rossetti
There is no time like Spring,
When life’s alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track –
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack –
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour.

Gretchen Bernet-Ward

My Poésie Comique

Writing Quill 04

STAY HOME DAY

A clock that ticks
A window that sticks
A wet, scrubbed floor
A locked front door
Home for the day.

A shelf that needs dusting
A tap that is rusting
A load of dirty dishes
A long list of wishes
Home for the day.

A basketful of laundry
A mess from all and sundry
A need to be freed
A desire to read
Home for the day.

♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward



ODE TO MY COLD

My chest wheezes
My nose sneezes
I continually sniff
Every muscle is stiff.

My eyes are blurry
My tongue is furry
My back is sore
My nerves are raw.

How my head aches
Oh, for heaven’s sakes
Get rid of this pain
I want to be normal again.

♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward



XBOX LIFESTYLE

My daughter is not a tot
She’s a futuristic robot
The years are a passin’
Now she’s an assassin.

She’s finished her tour of duty
Her score’s a beauty
Masterful chief is circled by gore
Dead aliens become a bore.

Her swearing is profuse
I really should call a truce
She’s grandly thieving cars
And meets a hit man in bars.

My daughter is another girl
Keeping track makes me whirl
A lizard tail on the rim of sky
Oh, dear my brain will fry.

Perhaps limit the time
That she fights crime
When taking on every role
On her Xbox console.

She’s scaly, she’s rough, she’s tough
That’s it, I’ve had enough
I look very smug
In my hand I hold the plug.

 Gretchen Bernet-Ward



BLOGGER

Got myself a WordPress blog
To give my thoughts a jog
I guess I’m just another cog
In the internet machine.

Remember to post every day
So readers won’t go away
But, eh, come what may
On the internet machine.

A photograph looks nice
Attract readers at any price
Make my blog their vice
On the internet machine.

Followers, likes and tags
Stats with peaks and sags
My enthusiasm lags
On the internet machine.

A thought has stirred
I will not be deterred
Write down every word
On the internet machine.

 Gretchen Bernet-Ward

Gears and Cogs 06