biography, Humour, poetry, writing

Australian Bush Poetry and falling into the toilet.

Australian Bush Poetry, according to the Australian Bush Poets Association has “strict meter and rhyme.” I guess it is also about Australia. In 2019 I travelled to Orange to the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Festival and competed in the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Competition where I received third place with my poem, Our Darling is Dying. The poem speaks about how the Darling/Barka River was dry and the causes as well as the effects in the first nations people of Wilcannia, the Barkindji people.

In February 2020, I returned to Orange to have another go with a piece of poetry titled Happy Harry Koala. It is about a koala who loses his home to forest destruction and then his new home to bushfire before meeting a man who plants forest corridors and this allows Happy Harry Koala to become reunited with his family and allowed koala populations to recover. I wrote this as a solution to koala population decline with the perspective of an environmental scientist(which I am) in mind and also from the perspective of someone who has worked in forest establishment (which I have). My scores from the three judges were: 1. above 90% (from the 3 times bush poetry champion) 2. above 70% from the second judge and 3. a scathing review just above 50% from the judge representing the Australian Bush Poets Association who commented words to the effect, “this is not bush poetry and is more like a kids story.” I agree that Happy Harry Koala is a kids story however it is written with strict rhyme and meter and in the form of Australian bush poetry. I didn’t place in the top three but I did a fantastic performance and the scores of the first two judges reflected that.

You can please some of the people some of the time but you can’t please all of the people all of the time. C’est la vie (That’s life).

Yesterday, the 17th of June 2021 I got a couple of new rhyming lines stuck in my head. When that happens I know that I need to begin writing and that the rest of the poem is there in my subconscious ready to be “downloaded.” In fact I often think that when I am writing that I am channelling “divine consciousness” and that “i” am only the conduit. So I began writing about a man who fell into a toilet.

Here in Australia we have a slang name for our toilets which is the word “dunny.” Back in the day our toilets used to be detached from the house and you would need to go in a walk outside, down the stairs into the back yard. These days there are some “dunnies” which are composting toilets which save on water and are basically a hole in the ground leading to a large receptacle chamber. This receptacle can be above or below ground level but is full of poo, wee, toilet paper with a bit of wood sawdust thrown in from the bucket next to the toilet.

Another peculiarity of the bush dunny is that they are often places that frogs like to inhabit. It would not be a pleasant experience to fall into a toilet but thats precisely what happened to Phil McColl. Finally, the word “thongs” in Australia refer to a type of rubber sandal that you slip onto your feet and are NOT a piece of underwear. The SES is the State Emergency Service.

Phil McColl fill me hole

A peaceful place is Froggy Flat and my story’s funny

About a man called Phil McColl who fell head first in the dunny

It was a dark and lonely night and this is not a joke

As Phil walked to the toilet, the dunny made a croak

He turned his phone torch on and opened up the door

And as he walked inside, the dunny croaked once more

Then the dunny kept on croaking in the middle of the night

He shone the torch about to find everything all right

It was long drop compost with not a pleasant smell

As he opened up the lid he tripped and his phone fell

It was dark inside the dunny but he knew his phone was right

It had landed on the sawdust and Phil could see the light

He went back to the kitchen and got a pair of tongs

His feet were cold and so he put on a pair of thongs

In the dark he couldn’t see the thongs belonged to his wife

They were too small and the cause of the coming strife

His wife awoke to an empty bed and also needed to pee

In the dark she donned Phil’s thongs because she couldn’t see

In Froggy Flat the dunny is down the garden path

In Phil’s big thongs Mrs McColl slipped and fell flat on her arse

Phil was head first in the toilet and he was leaning in

Reaching for his phone when Mrs McColl burst in

Saw her thongs on Phil and she began to yell

And in surprise Phil lost his grip and that is when he fell

Head first down the dunny and landed on his phone

He wiped it off and that is when he found he wasn’t alone

There inside the dunny was a giant green tree frog

Staring him in the face and croaking on a log

Mrs Mac looked down the hole and said what can I do

I’m busting for a pee and I really need to poo

I’ve got a turtle head and it’s starting to poke out

Call the SES you stupid woman, Phil began to shout

Mrs Mac got angry pulled up her nighty and had a sit

The she let it rip and Phil got covered in more shit

She went back to the kitchen and made a cup of tea

Called the SES and all Phil’s mates to come around and see

They had to dig him out as Phil was firmly stuck

With a pump, an excavator and the local sewage truck

That afternoon Phil was feed and he gave a happy shout

He’d been stuck in shit fourteen hours before they dug him out.

A peaceful place is Froggy Flat but you won’t find Phil McColl

The locals now refer to Phil McColl as Fill me hole

Copyright 2021

Not everything is shit and as Thundercloud, I know that every cloud has a silver lining. After the Banjo Paterson Poetry Competition and festival in 2020 I decided that I was in no hurry to return to Nimbin and decided to take the slow road home and stop in the little country towns along the way. What is an 8 hour drive took me more than 24 hours. I left Orange late in the morning, stopped in Molong and saw the New South Wales over 50s cricket championship final and I was one of the only spectators. Then I stopped in Dunnedoo for lunch. It was late in the evening and I was tired when I reached Bendemeer so I stopped in a park, drove up beside a picnic shelter and rolled my swag out on the picnic table by the creek. I awoke early the next morning and continued to Armidale where I got a coffee at Maccas, then I continued up the hill through “the Pinch” to Black Mountain where I turned off and went to see Captain Thunderbolt’s Cave. Thunderbolt was a famous Australian bushranger a bit like Robin Hood in that he took from the rich and gave to the poor.

It was 6:30 am and a misty mystical morning with crepuscular rays of sunlight beaming through ancient yellow box and white box eucalyptus trees. Small white flowers lined the track and the beauty and silence of the Australian bush made me feel blessed to experience its tranquility while dainty birds tweeted, flitted and flew from bush to bush. Butterflies danced about in the air and dew drops glistened from spiders’ webs in the mist. I entered Thunderbolt’s cave and could imagine his big black thoroughbred horse in there with him waiting for the clang of tackle and chains and clop hooves of the Cobb and Co mail coach coming up “The Pinch.” In the distance I heard a more modern sound, a truck coming up the Pinch.

I returned to my car and there I found a necklace with a rocking horse and a wishbone. The next stop was Guyra ten kilometres up the hill and instead of passing through on the New England Highway I decided that I’d get another coffee and visit the town. It was 8:30 am and as I drove into Guyra I noted all the empty shops with “for lease” signs. I thought to myself, “this town has a lot of potential” I got out of my car at the Northern end of town near Kirks IGA and as I walked down the street looking for a place to buy a coffee I looked in the empty shops and thought about what business I could put there. Finally I saw a shop that I thought would make a lovely gallery, and then I saw this place I am sitting in now writing this blog.

I looked in the doors and saw a foyer with shelves down the side and behind that I could se a grand empty theatre and a stage. My jaw dropped. I walked on to the Council Chambers and spoke to John who was raising the flags. When I returned to the theatre I pulled out my phone and called the owner of the building. He came down and we walked inside. As soon as I got into the auditorium I said, “I’ll take it.” he showed me around and I knew I was going to something big. I got back into my car and started driving.

Then it hit me. “The Australian Poetry Hall of Fame.” We could celebrate all the great poets and the unknown poets of Australia. We could nurture poets. We could preserve Australian poets, poetry, languages (not just English but the first nations languages) songlines and more. We could make “The Greatest Poetry Show on Earth” That was February 2020 and I opened on the 24th of March 2020 the first day of COVID19 lockdown. It’s been a tough first 16 months, I sold my double decker bus “Atlantis” the Free blue Library to finance the Australian Hall of Fame but I am still here. You can support the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame gofundme page to help me continue to build this as a successful venture to celebrate Australian poetry and poets.

I started the Guyra Farmers and Craft Market in the theatre every Saturday morning and two of my stall holders have gone on to open businesses in Guyra. I started Wednesday Words open mic poetry night every Wednesday evening and have made a wonderful friend, Gladys Wilson who is my dad’s age and has been inspired to write poetry. Guyra is a cold town in Banbai Country, halfway between Sydney and Brisbane. At 1330m altitude it’s one of the coldest towns in New South Wales; but it snows and we can make snow people.

Guyra Strength

The sun shines and the winds blow

It’s dry, wet, there’s sleet and snow

If you live in Guyra you will get cold

Become tough and strong, live real old

Living in Guyra has wind and sun

People here walk fast and run

Frosty, brisk and wide blue skies

Red sunset and misty sunrise

Ice on Mother of Ducks Lagoon

Spring rains bring more ducks soon

Sunset and the fresh day ends

Sitting around fires yarning with friends

If you enjoyed this and would like more to read more of my poetry the you can support me at www.buymeacoffee.com/thundercloud

Guyra Strength by Thundercloud Repairian
book, change, health, Humour, poetry, poetry, politics, prohibition

My new Book Check this out at Amazon

Poetry To End Prohibition: Thundercloud Repairian (3) https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/0648346889/ref=cm_sw_r_u_apa_fabc_3jV8Fb8D9PBY6

Djanbung's Peaceful Protest in Nimbin
animals, book, ecosystems, health, Life lessons, poetry, writing

Pete the surfer

Please support Thundercloud as an independent writer,publisher, and poet and buy his books by following the links. 

Nimbin, 2018 sitting in a cafe on the street I was approached by an old mate, Pete. Pete loves surfing and was excited to tell me about his day surfing the day before. Pete left and went into the chemist and by the time he walked out I had finished this piece of poetry and read it back to Pete. He was stoked and now finally it is published.

14, 16, 28, 44 in his head 

I’ve had a great day Pete the surfer said

I went down to Ballina. No one could get out

Even the jet ski driver wouldn’t tow me out

 

The surf was too big, 4 meters or more

It was messy and swirly no one could leave shore

So I walked out the rock wall and dived in the rip

Iit took me out way back on a round about trip

 

I was surfing alone, a pin prick from the shore

I got some big rippers one five meters for sure

I was out in the big waves. I was surfin’ alone

It was bliss, I’m so happy, the wind wasn’t blowin

 

It was glassy and smooth and I got in a tube

It took me back 20 years to when I was a Juvenile 

I dunno what they’ll say at the hospital tomorrow” Pete said

“They’ve been working two years to fix this stuffed leg

I couldn’t give a shit. I’ll enjoy my life too

I’ll sleep well tonight. You know I’m seventy two

But age doesn’t matter, it’s great to be alive

Said Pete the surfer, “ I only feel twenty five”  

 

You will be able to buy this and much more of my 2018 poetry in a 218 page book soon to be released, Djanbung’s peaceful protest in Nimbin. (Djanbung is the Bundjalung word for Platypus)

Thanks Pete.

The following is the first two verses of “The Platypus” which is the introductory poem in Djanbung’s Peaceful Protest in Nimbin.

The Platypus

14/1/2018

Down in the creek the platypus lives. 

On the fish and insects water gives. 

Down in the creek the platypus dreams.

Of abundance in crystal clear streams. 

It’s brown and furry with a duck-like nose.

With a tail that looks like a beaver goes. 

Webbed feet help it swim through the creek 

With a rubbery electromagnetic sensitive  beak. 

 

The platypus’s home is crude but good

He lives in a burrow by the creek that won’t flood

The platypus lays its eggs underground. 

The babies are born in a burrow they’re found.

Because the platypus swims there in the creek 

The platypus has a big rubbery beak. 

A mouth that’s like a duckbill nose 

It’s got claws on its feet and spikes on its toes. 

The platypus burrows underground

Where it lays its eggs, its babies are found. 

 

Thanks Djanbung and stay alert for “Djanbung’s Peaceful Protest in Nimbin” book 4 of the “Love and Lust in Nimbin” poetry series by Thundercloud Repairian out not as ebooks and paperbacks. Just click the links below to buy my books and support me as an artist.

 Love in Nimbin: Love and infinity in Nimbin for all eternity and for our corroborees of song and stories of our dreamings (Love and Lust in Nimbin Book 1)
Lust in Nimbin: Love and infinity in Nimbin for all eternity and for our corroborees of song and stories of our dreamings (Love and Lust in Nimbin Book 2)
Poetry to End Prohibition: The voice of the tawny frogmouth (Love and Lust in Nimbin Book 3)

poetry, poetry

Creation of the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame and Museum

Monday 24th of March 2020

Driving home from the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Festival and competition, I stopped in a small county town of Guyra on the New England Tableland. I got out to have a walk and stretch my legs and found an empty theater. I met the owner and he showed me around. I thought about it for 5 seconds and said “I’ll take it”

What to do? I had a lot to imagine on the remaining three hour drive home to Lillian Rock near Nimbin.

LIGHT BULB MOMENT

“THE AUSTRALIAN POETRY HALL OF FAME AND MUSEUM”

Tuesday 25th of February to 29th of February 2020

Furiously writing business plan, begin selling all my excess belongings, transition plan, income streams, advertise Atlantis for sale, cost benefit analysis, expenses, projected income, planning space, poets in residence.

Brainstorming and more brainstorming: Mission Statement

Register domain name and website: http://australianpoetryhalloffame.com/ 

Sunday 1st of March 2020 8:04pm

Register Business Name online at ASIC website: AUSTRALIAN POETRY HALL OF FAME

Sunday 1st of March 2020 8:33pm

HURDLE: Receive automated email “Application Rejected

Monday morning, JUMP HURDLE: LODGE APPLICATION TO REVIEW DECISION

Monday 2nd of March 2020

Midday: Go to the Bush Theatre in Nimbin and write projected benefits for town, withing two years 10 direct FTE jobs, 20 flowon FTE jobs, 3 to 5 new businesses, new industry of tourism, contact solicitor, contact and engage local accountant, expenses, Xero, Square POS,

More Brainstorming: Hall of Fame big murals, Songlines Room representing artists and poets from all original nations, functions, events fundraiser, poets breakfasts, craft and farmers market, annual poetry competition, festival, bush poetry, comedy night, ” The Club with No Beer” night club, fun, yoga and fitness classes, free adult literacy classes, giving to the community, writing workshops, poetry slams, community dinners, open mic night. bush dances, drumming circles, timeline, rewiew, independent film, theatre productions,  story telling nights, video productions, fun, publishing books.

So much to think about and do that I think I need to go to bed and rest,

I will keep you updated on this exciting new journey in my life.

However before I go I will share my newest poem.

GENESIS CHAPTER ONE: CREATION ACCORDING TO THUNDERCLOUD REPAIRIAN

On the seventh day he rested, relieved beyond belief
that he had overcome his fear and self limiting belief
When he looked below at all the things he’d done
He cried with joy and thanked his strength and then he thanked the sun

Then on Sunday

On the day of the sun after rest he made a plan
There is a lot of work to do this week to make this life more grand
Everything was dark so he lit a light
on the day of the sun he shone very bright
He took a pen paper, plotted, calculated, planned
Calculated more, dreamt his future shinning grand
But then Monday came again and he thought, “Oh Mate!”
I am very excited by this plan of mine that is great
But it is now time to make these waters flow
Open the flood gate to the firmament seas and rivers grow
Then the seeds were planted and he brought forth the grass
the trees the herbs flowers and beauty that would last
Then came the lights to the firmament to divide day and night
and stars came in seasons to dance and sing day and shine bright

And the stars were set into the firmament like a “hall of fame”
After that the water creatures and gave them all a name
Then water creatures arrived and abundance for all
Whales, dolphins, every flying creature celebrated in the life of the hall
Of Life came next the beasts of the land, the koalas and sheep
Next came Jackaroo and Jillaroo with Little Beau Peep
And he said “OK you mob, yas can be just like me”
“Nurture the earth and you will all live fruitfully
You have every seed and herb and fruit of earth to eat
Why on Earth insist on eating beasts and eating meat?
On the Sixth day he looked back at what he had achieved and said “I have done my best”
So I reckon that tomorrow should be my day of rest
When all his work was finished he went walking in the wood
He sanctified it all and said “Life is fukin good”
“I made the earth and heavens and Jack and Jill are mates
I think I will stir up some trouble and temptation I’ll create”

So he made a tree of life in the garden of eden
Jill became Jacks wife and then they were even
because they were locked into a marriage contract
Jill was tempted by a big banana and Jack absolutely cracked
He said “if you loved me you wouldn’t have eaten from the tree of life
Get out of my garden you are no longer my wife
I forgive you Jill but until you repent
“I will live here alone in my garden with this here serpent”

Stay tuned for more information as the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame develops.

 

 

Thundercloud Repairian artist poet writer
biography, ecosystems

Biography

Thundercloud Repairian AKA James Arthur Warren is the creator of the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame in Guyra in the 3rd of March 2020. He is a passionate educator, poet, artist, writer and publisher. His first book The Flea and the Dinosaur is  a children’s book fully written and illustrated by Thundercloud. “Love in Nimbin” and “Lust in Nimbin”  are his two volume poetry anthology Love and lust in Nimbin. as well as the soon to be released Poetry to End Prohibition 420 2020 edition.

A finalist in the 2017 Nimbin Performance poetry World Cup with “Street Poets News”

3rd in the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Competition with “Our Darling Barka is Dying”

Thundercloud is an environmental scientist and socio-cultural educationalist. Through his writing and the Nimbin underground “slam poetry” scene Thundercloud has established himself as a formidable revolutionary consciousness lyricist.

He is currently working on his next three children’s books which includes another  a book of animal verse for kids. Thundercloud is a father of three sons whom he has always enjoyed telling stories to and lives in his magical colourful double decker bus, Atlantis.

As a passionate environmentalist Thundercloud pledges to donate 25% of all profits to revegetating creeks and rivers and connecting forest remnants with linking corridors to facilitate the safe movement of koalas and enabling species recovery after the bushfires.

“Thundercloud writes poetry that you will keep resonating with you for days”

Thundercloud: Washing away the garbage and leaving behind rainbows.

“A peaceful warrior has no need to raise his sword and he acts from compassion and has a shield of love”  — Thundercloud Quotes

 

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The Journey Begins