The Banjo Paterson Bush Poetry Festival in Orange, New South Wales begins on the 17th of February. There are a number of events happening throughout Orange and the surrounding district until the 24th of February 2019.
Events include The Banjo Paterson Bush Poetry Competition which I am entering a poem titled “Our Darling is Dying”. There is also Rotary Brekky and Poetry on the Pavers as well as Poetry in the Pub featuring the Poet’s Brawl. In the poets brawl, poets have one minute to deliver any original poem, bush, slam, rhyming, non-rhyming but must use both the words “Banjo” and “Orange”.
“Andy Banjo Player” is the poem I have written for the “poets brawl”, tell me what you think in the comments.
Andy played a banjo with an orange and he played it very bad
It made a juicy squishy sound and it drove his mother mad
Orange juice went everywhere and pith and peel too
The ants came by the millions and the fruit flies flew
He played with so much gusto and a lot of zeal
Grated it and juiced, he was left with orange peel
Only when he ran out of juice did Andy’s playing stop
So he ran out to a fruit stall and bought a kilo from the shop
Playing “Orange Crush”, the song from REM
Played every single orange till he’d juiced all of them
Bottled it and marketed it and only told the truth
Under the trade make of Andy’s Banjo Orange Juice
Copyright 2019
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Sitting at home this Sunday morning and my partner says something that sounds like “mermaid juice.” OK, I think to myself, there is something funny about that and I begin to write.
Mermaid Juice
“I think I’d like a mermaid juice.” The great white shark said
So she blended up a mermaid and the mermaid juice was red.
“I was feeling pretty funny because I ate a clown
But mermaid juice has fixed my tummy since I drank it down
Now I’ve had my mermaid juice, I want some toast and cheese
But I can’t leave the water, can you call Uber please?
I’d really like a sandwich on some bread that’s brown
I love Uber eats when they bring food down
Thanks for bringing my food but I’m not a fan of bread
She opened up her mouth, bit off the Uber drivers head
Great White Shark was happy with good food in her tummy
An uber driver and a clown and mermaid juice so yummy
There is one more thing, I want some more to eat
So she called the cops and ate some raw pig meat.
If you have liked reading this and have found a litle smile, please share it with your friends to give a little smile to them.
In my daily morning meditations, I often contemplate the noise in the silence and have never found a truely quiet place. I’ve spent the last few years travelling and in the bush after living in the city in Brisbane for eleven years. In the bush the noise of the insects, frogs and birds can be almost deafening especially on a hot summer’s day when the cicadas are all singing in harmony. However the city is totally different, at 4am in the morning there is a silence of the natural world due to the loss of biodiversity in the city but the unnatural sounds are there. A motor hum, a buzz, a ping, wi-fi, creaky door, squeaky floor, drone, drone, drone, drone, drone, drone. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
NOISE NOISE NOISE NOISE NOISE NOISE NOISE
The silence is within you. Silence is an awarerness of noise.
The sounds of silence
Quieten your mouth and just sit on down
Hear the silence is filled full of noise
With an awareness of all that goes on around
Distant school ground, hear yelling boys
A barking dog, birdsong, and a car driving by
A cricket, a frog, dripping tap
In silence there’s noise of the wind in the sky
The words in my head are a rap
I turned off the tap and dripping noise ceased
A truck’s airbrake gave a loud groan
A trickling creek, the waves on the beach
Loud music in somebody’s home
But silence is just an awareness of noise
When sitting in peace and in quiet
I found silence in me and outside is the noise
Even in the middle of the night.
Copyright 2019 James Arthur Warren
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In July 2016 I was travelling through western New South Wales when my by bus Atlantis broke a fuel line. I repaired the bus with the help of a local earthmoving business. I got on my way the next day and had a blow out ten kilometers out of town.
The desert was green from a few recent showers but the Darling River was low and I was not leaving Wilcannia until I had replaced the tyre in Broken Hill. It so happened that the Barkindji mob and some other local had organised a protest to stop traffic on the only bridge over the Darling River for half an hour, every hour, all weekend.
During my stay in Wilcannia, I met the kindest and most welcoming people in all of my travels but I also met a people struggling to hold on to their traditions and way of life because the Darling River or Barka as it’s known locally is drying up.
In Queensland and New South Wales, corruption and water theft and harvesting has stopped the flow of the mighty Darling River which once flowed all year round and is a vital source of food, culture and recreation for the Barkindji people of Wilcannia. The Barka is now not even a trickle but a series of muddy billabongs with dying fish, yabbies, turtles and andthing else that once lived there.
The Barkindji people of Wilcannia are tough and self sufficient but their community orchard and garden can’t be watered and fresh produce is prohibitively expensive due to the freight costs. Without access to freshly caught fish and fresh produce, the health of the Brakindji people is being adversely impacted. There are also important social and cultural remifications of the Barka not flowing. There are a whole generation of young people who aren’t getting to fish, swim or go camping on the river and learn culture. This also leads to depression and alcohol abuse in the community.
In 2016 vwhen I stayed in Wilcannia there was still water in the river for the town because of the weir but in January 2019 the situation is dire and the water quality is decreasing in town all allong the river to the point of being undrinkable.
This problem is not isolated to Wilcannia but ultimately affect the whole Murray Darling Basin and the ecosystem of the continent.
Why has thias happened?
Two main reasons:
1. The drought caused by 200+ years of land clearing and deforestation has lead to a vastly different and drier climate in Auastralia.
2. Mismanagemant and corruption by politicians, farmers and large corporate cotton agriculture.
The solution is simple. Restore stream flow and mass tree planting and reforestation accross the entire catchment of the Darling. This could be done by a National River and Forest Brigade and reassigning the military forces to productive and nurturing purposes instead of destructive purposes.
The management of the Murray Darling should be by a single national body and responsibility taken away from the states as the Murray-Darling crosses borders.
There are some many other steps including the covering of irrigation canals, changing from cotton to hemp farming for fibre, restoring cross land flows by removing artifical barriers. However for now, I have written the following song/poem to raise awareness of this important national issue of environmental, ecological and socio-cultural significance. Please share to bring awareness to this issue.
Our Darling is Dying
Our Darling is dying and running quite dry
The Barkindji man said, I just want to cry
I went to the Darling and all I could see
Was a dry river bed, no longer flowing free
Dead fish were floating with poison and sick
Long muddy billabong, blue green algae slick
“Our river would always flow to the sea
Even in drought she always flowed free”
“There was always abundance and plenty of feed
But now she’s exploited by corporate greed”
Dinners and deals and networks of corruption
The Darling River is dying, this is it’s destruction
National politicians take donations of greed
From cotton corporations with their GMO seed
Four hundred thousand Megalitres for just Cubbie Station
But no water or fish for the Barkindji Nation
Other farm’s water theft is also a crime
The new laws don’t stop them our Darling is dying
Cotton farms, water theft, corruption as donations
The Darling is dying because of greedy cotton stations
Out there in Wilcannia there’s no fishing for feeds
No water for veggies so the garden’s just weeds
Two dollars for an apple, a lettuce ten or more
A dry river makes us sick and keeps us all poor
Just drinking and fighting and wearing a frown
Waiting for the Darling River to flow down
There’s no fishing, or swimming or camping anymore
There’s nothing to do and life is a bore
A dead roo in the river but it didn’t drown
It died when it drank the poison river water down
It’s time that we started the Barkindji man said
If the river doesn’t flow the whole country will be dead
Free up the Darling River and bring it back to life
Or the whole ecosystem is in trouble and strife
Everything must be done and we have what it takes
To naturally refill the whole Menindee lakes
To bring back silver perch, yellow belly and cod
Our Darling, Our source of life, Rainbow serpent God
If we don’t let the water flow I will sing this song
Till the Darling River is no more a muddy billabong
Clean up the river and make it like long before
and the Darling can waltz and flow forever more
But our Darling River’s is dying and our Darling is dry
The Barkindji man said, I just want to cry
Song Copyright James Arthur Warren, Thundercloud Reparian
Sung to the tune of Music Waltzing Matilda composed by Christina McPherson 1895 all instruments played by Charles Whitmer https://youtu.be/L-jftwjDzc4
You can contact me below if you are interested in using this song.
It’s Christmas eve in Nimbin and yesterday I was invited to an interview and reading of my selected poetry at 2NCR 92.9fm (link to live stream) Northern Rivers Community Radio in Lismore. Before I left, I went back to get a couple of copies of my books, “Love in Nimbin” and “Lust in Nimbin” to give to the presenters.
I grabbed my books and saw my box full of handwritten notebooks. I randomly opened the note book called “Do what you love” and there was two “lost poems” from 2017 that I had missed adding to my books when I hurriedly published them for Mardi Grass 2018. The poems I found were one about and experience I had when I first arrived in Nimbin. The other poem was one that I had written at a Medical Cannabis wotkshop during a symposium put on by the Hemp Embassy in Nimbin. This has inspired me to add these two poems to the second and revised editions of Love in Nimbin and Lust in Nimbin.
I am pretty careful with the storage of my manuscripts and this episode reminded me that I need to continue with my storage practices so that I leave behind a legacy of the original writing.
This morning, I awoke on the 24th of December, Christmas Eve and Facebook reminded me of a seven year old post which was one of my early poems that I had totally forgotten about. I will publish this poem in one of my upcoming books, however I have also decided to share it with you as a gift of love to hopefully put a smile on your face.
On the table.
He laid her on the table.
So white and clean and bare.
His forehead wet with beads of sweat.
He rubbed her here and there.
He touched her neck and then her breast.
And then drooling felt her thigh.
The slit was wet and all was set,
He gave a joyous cry.
The hole was wide…he looked inside.
All was dark and murky.
He rubbed his hands and stretched his arms…
And then he stuffed the turkey.
This morning when I got up there were a lot of birds hanging about the spilt compost bin. There were four bush turkeys, three magpies, a pied currawong and this kookaburra of which I managed to get a few good photos. I like to listen to the messages from the animals and when I am attuned in and calm then the messages flow.
One of the things I have noticed living in the bush and also being an early riser, is that the kookaburras are often the first birds to wake and anounce their presence in the very first light of the day. I was born in the Chinese year of the “cock” and love the birds. I often wondered what the kookaburras were saying each morning but now I think they are just yelling out “Yip yip yip yipeee its awesome to be alive in this awesomely beautiful world and I am awake to celebrate it, yiiiiippppppeeeeeeee”
This morning’s message comes from Big Kev the Kookaburra
Big Kev the Kookaburra had a lot of need
Big Kev the Kookaburra had a lot of greed
Big Kev the Kookaburra was always swooping down
Picking snakes and lizards up sunning on the ground
Kev Kookaburra wasn’t always a big fella
It started when magpie called him Yella
Kev Kookaburra Yelled “I’m not afraid”
The magpie had meant the noise he made
Kev Kookaburra yelled’ “I’ve got what it takes
I eat lizards and I eat snakes
I’m not scared and I won’t die
I eat snakes, I’m one tough guy.
Kev Kookaburra gave a loud shout
Swooped down and ate a water dragon laying about
Swallowed it into his tummy
Said to the magpie, “that was yummy
I’m going looking for more to eat
There’s plenty of lizards and snakes to eat
He flew above the dusty track
Snakes sunning themselves in the outback
Kev Kookaburra found so much feed
He couldn’t control his pride and greed
When Kev Kookaburra came back
His stubbies wouldn’t cover his bum crack
Kev was heavy and weighed down
His belly stopped him flying around
He sat around, could fly no more
Watched TV sitting on the floor
“I showed you magpie, I’m not afraid
See the empire I have made
There’s so much more than I need
Could not fulfil my pride and greed
Got so much stuff in my life
I can’t fly now I’ve lost my wife”
Kev Kookaburra was now a real heav
The magpie renamed him Big Kev
Big Kev the Kookaburra the magpie said
You can’t fly now you will be dead
If one of those snakes comes along
You’ll never sing your happy song
Big Kev Kookaburra will be snake food now
Big Kev can’t get off the ground
Big Kev the Kookaburra said, “I don’t want to die”
To supplant: verb, meaning to replace and bring about higher knowledge through subversive means, working from the roots up to plant seeds and nurture the conditions for growth and change into higher life forms.
Thunderclouds bring rains that sprout the planted seeds
Thunderclouds bring rains that grow the trees for free.
For me it is important I nurture thee with food.
Loving words to inspire you encourage you to good.
I wrote the following piece so you might plant a tree
Because you can grow a forest just like me.
Supplanting Trees
A tree was standing beside the road, the next day I came along.
The tree that once was growing was cut down and was gone.
I asked a Woman standing there what happened to the tree?
they cut it down to build a road and suburbs answered she.
A forest grew beside a lake to the north of the city
They cut it down now you can buy land at North Forest Lake cheaply
Roos love open forest but Farmers use a chain
to clear all the scrub and round up they are spraying
A place that once grew trees is now dry and bare
A field, a road, a roof, a fence no trees to clean the air
There was a man who planted seeds and trees in the ground
A lush green forest grows there now it’s no longer Dusty Brown
You can plant a seed and grow a forest too
Repair the Earth, grow homes for birds and beautify the view
if we cut down all the forest there will be no falling rain
but when we plant trees and seeds lusciousness grows again
giant old tree stump
Thundercloud Repairian AKA James Arthur Warren is a Nimbin based educator, poet, artist and writer. His first book The Flea and the Dinosaur is a children’s book fully written and illustrated by Thundercloud is available to Buy Nowat lulu.com
