Gulargambone

[Andrew]

Hi all,
been a while since a visit....had to change my name as couldnt remember password....so 'Hully' is just plain old 'Andrew' now....been writing a bit and thinking of you...but you know, life...anyway, here's a quick one from a recent trip.

Gulargambone
©2007AndrewHull

I stopped to cool my heels today
At Gulargambone on the Castlereagh
Where shady Gum Trees bend and sway
And life drifts gently by
I found a place to sit and dream
Beside the bridge that crossed the stream
And the world to me would suddenly seem
As far away as the sky

I thought that I might wet a line
If only I had a bit more time
But that’s an old excuse of mine
For things I rarely do
Because life rolls at relentless pace
For runners in the human race
And time we borrow we don’t replace
Or follow our wishes through

I saw the town had suffered hard
By the empty pump in the garage yard
And the peeling paint on the store façade
That needed extra care
But the corrugated iron birds
Along the road that re-occurred
Said more than could a thousand words
About the people there

Their tin wings flap for miles around
With feet that never touch the ground
And beaks that shriek without a sound
Upon their iron stands
But their hearts are real, their hearts are shared
With those who loved the town and cared
And came together, well prepared
To build them with their hands

They showed me that the ties are strong
And lives are easily swept along
When people, to a place belong
And not merely 'reside'
For our lives are just dreams we fulfil
And dreams can drift away until
They’re anchored by a strength of will
That holds them deep inside

So I traced the birds to the little town
And found the time to wander around
And a place to set my worries down
Beside the shallow stream
And I tell myself I’ll return one day
To Gulargambone on the Castlereagh
But that is something I always say…
Still, it doesn’t hurt to dream.

h

[manfredvijars]

Welcome back Hully ...  .... a great place , as are the Warrumbungles, and a great write too Mate ..

Cheers,

Manfred.

[zondrae]

Hi Andrew,

Thanks for stiring up great old memories, and welcome back. I had an adventure at Gulargambone, once long ago. I will have to get moving and write it up. It is half done, like many of my works. Again, it would be in 'The Combi' series. I know you have read the two other poems. 'the cat', and 'the pig'. I think this one will be 'and the shed'.

I found this poem a good read and I particularly like the rhyming pattern. I often wonder if there are any hard and fast rules about patterns. I have written something in this pattern but had a space between the third and fourth lines. Your example looks much better and is more cohesive.

Thanks for sharing.

[James]

Andrew glad to see a post again from you Hully was truly missed James

[therese]

i really enjoyed this andrew.  and isnt  "Gulargambone"  just a beautiful sounding word!  just rolls off the tongue, lol

[the mad mare]

Hi Hully,

Glad to have you back, we've missed your wonderful poetry!  Try to drop in more often.

Kym.

[Andrew]

Thanks all,
been spending far too much time at work but I'm better now.

Zondrae, don't know if there are any rules....I am the worst at following them !...only know that if you don't write it, then it never gets writ....so, about that shed?

Therese, I agree Gulargambone is a great name. Blue the Shearer has a poem about four archaeologists who dig up some bones and then argue over whether they are 'Quambones', 'Bugalbones' (Villages on Western Slopes), 'Buttabones' (Big property near Warren), or 'Gulargambones'....very clever....the town is a great story too....suffering hard and shrinking fast, they have organised themselves into an active committee (two eight two eight - after the postcode) and set about resurrecting the town with art (e.g 30-40 currugated iron 'galahs' on all roads in and around), a theatre, coffee shop (and certified 'Barista College' - believe it or not) as well as lots of other activities....very inspiring.
 
cheers.
h

[therese]

sounds wonderful andrew.  i love to hear of small towns fighting back against the drift away from them.

[the grey]

G'day Hully.

Old Galah brings back a few memories as Chris and I joined the folk there one Australia Day and performed a few poems and then went up to the hospital was well.  Put on a show at the Bowling Club that night as well and had a great crowd.  Caught up with old Les Lemon, a noteable old character and enjoyed listening to a few of his yarns.

Performed one year at Coonamble as well over their rodeo Weekend.

Merv Webster

[Irene]

Ditto Hully - good to see you back on board!!
Seems strange seeing you sign off as Andrew - too used to seeing 'Hully' there.

Great write - sounds like a wonderful place to visit.

Zondrae - hows that poem about the shed going? Nearly finished by now?!?

[zondrae]

I must confess,

I haven't even looked for the bits and pieces I have already written about that adventure. Too busy with this new group that has started for writers here in Wollongong. They have been meeting every week and setting homework. So I have written a poem a week for the past 4 weeks (or so). Not the best quality I will admit but good for discipline. ALSO...

I'm off to the National in a few days..so I've been busy trying to commit to memory a poem or two. ALSO..

We have been looking after Matilda two days a week for the  past three weeks. She is two now. What a joy!
 
mmm something like this, if my memory serves me
'I should have written it all down. Every face in every town
of those we met along the way, who stopped to  help us every day.'

 'It happened at Gulargambone. A place without  train or phone.'

 'One foot upon the ladder tread, he pushed his hat back on his head
then looking to the sky he said "I think the part's in yonder shed." '

mmm now where did I put that old yellow folded bit of paper?? mmm Trouble is I've moved house at least three times since I started this poem. It was even before I got my computer. Even before I discovered the world of Bush Poetry and Folk Festivals.

well you did ask! Nighty night.

[Irene]

Zondrae,
that sounds like it is going to be an interesting old bloke in your poem. Or more correctly, an interesting old shed!!!
My dad had a shed like what I think you may be going to describe! He is an electrician/autoelectrician, and he has rows and rows of metal shelving piled high with all manner of obscure parts and equipment!! As well as parts stacked in piles on the floor. However, he usually knows what he has in there, and roughly where it it!!
I look forward to reading your poem when you finish it - should be good reading.

HOwever, we understand, when you have lovely little grandies to look after, that writing would take second place. She would keep you busy at that age, but would also be wonderful company!!

Good luck with the nationals - should be a good weekend for you. What poem are you learning?

Catchya
Irene

[zondrae]

Irene,

So far I have only ever performed my own stuff. I plan to do 'The Reflection', 'My Magpie Friend' (which I have always thought was a bit long for performance, but we will see)  and 'Boomerangs'. Other than that, we will see how hectic it gets. Peeley will be there Saturday and Manfred said he is coming down. We also usually get a great selection of the best of Australias performers and writers, from Blue The Shearer and Milton Taylor to Carol Heuchan and Vic Jefferies. The year before last we had the pleasure of an OS poet Les Barker and also Marco Gliori and Graham Johnson. Campbell The Swaggie usually turns up and of cause that champion of Bush Poetry Frank Daniel. So you can see it is THE BEST 5 days of the year for me.   

[therese]

oh yay.  campbell the swaggie is great.  we keep meeting up with him when he comes to wintermoon.  and hes down as being there this year.  too cool!

[Andrew]

Yeah, must confess a soft spot for Cambell....did a few K's with him in the bush a few years ago. Not sure if I have posted this one before or not, but anyway...

Cambell
©Andrew Hull2004

A rough and husky chuckle and a cautious one at that
From somewhere beneath a ball of hair, somewhere beneath a hat
Cambell is reflecting on the track that he has travelled
And the yarn is long and windy a (perhaps a bit unravelled)

He tells his tale in rhyming verse which other people write
His mind is trained to memorise, his voice trained to recite
But the poems tell the story of a Swaggie on the road
With no fixed source of income, and of course no fixed abode

There’s humour when he tells of vagrants thrown out of a dance
And there’s beauty in a bushman who is just taking a chance
There’s defiance in his soldier who is fighting with his brother
And there’s truth in his love for his spiritual earth mother

His manner mild and gentle and his eyes keen and kind
But it’s hard to guess exactly what is going through his mind
Because he carries few possessions to describe or to ‘express’
With no fixed source of income, and of course no fixed address

He keeps an honest journal though it holds no thoughts or fears
It’s built of solid facts instead of poems and ideas
Dates, times, stops and starts, the minutia of his days
I guess swaggies find comfort in many different ways

And swaggies find company in many different camps
Though few would share the lifestyle or the road that he tramps
And it’s fairly fair to say that swaggies don’t always impress
With no fixed source of income, and of course no fixed address

But a husky chuckle starts the tale and a husky chuckle ends
And the poetry in between is a way to make amends
For he brings the words to life like few others that I’ve known
Because he lives the words daily and he lives the words alone

They’re words that shaped a country and they shape a person too
And Cambell surely offers up a unique point of view
And what a great home for a poem, in a swaggies heart and dress
With no fixed source of income, and of course no fixed address

h