I'm back.
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so burnt bum billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
* * * *
This learner would never dare to follow the 'Master'. G'day Glenny, where ya bin?
Peely I think It is done.. Perhaps we might start another with longer lines? May I suggest you close it off, John, if you can.
Collaborative Poem 1 - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
-
Zondrae
- Moderator
- Posts: 2292
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2010 9:04 am
- Location: Illawarra
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Zondrae King
a woman of words
a woman of words
-
Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8057
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
You know how those bushie blokes are -
* * * *
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
You know how those bushie blokes are -
* * * *
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
-
Leonie
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
-
Dave Smith
- Posts: 1726
- Joined: Wed Nov 03, 2010 9:12 pm
- Location: Collie W A
-
william williams
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
-
warooa
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
-
Dave Smith
- Posts: 1726
- Joined: Wed Nov 03, 2010 9:12 pm
- Location: Collie W A
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
There’ some bushies that I’ve known,
And these words to us have shown,
Why they really choose to wander,
In the country way out yonder.
DS
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
There’ some bushies that I’ve known,
And these words to us have shown,
Why they really choose to wander,
In the country way out yonder.
DS
I Keep Trying
-
Leonie
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
There’ some bushies that I’ve known,
And these words to us have shown,
Why they really choose to wander,
In the country way out yonder.
DS
Now we know how bushies
rack up high kilometers.
They're fleeing hoards of poets
with iambic pentameters.
Ooh, that's so bad, sorry.
I blame MP and DS.
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
There’ some bushies that I’ve known,
And these words to us have shown,
Why they really choose to wander,
In the country way out yonder.
DS
Now we know how bushies
rack up high kilometers.
They're fleeing hoards of poets
with iambic pentameters.
Ooh, that's so bad, sorry.
I blame MP and DS.-
Zondrae
- Moderator
- Posts: 2292
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2010 9:04 am
- Location: Illawarra
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
Title - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
There’ some bushies that I’ve known,
And these words to us have shown,
Why they really choose to wander,
In the country way out yonder.
DS
Now we know how bushies
rack up high kilometers.
They're fleeing hoards of poets
with iambic pentameters.
LP
"Now, stop that rot", the Bushman cried
"and come, sit down with me."
Again he rustled up a fire
and made some billy tea.
ZK
The ground was not too hard at least
the rocks were far between.
He made his camp above the creek
and now needed caffeine.
Z.K.
He was an old school bushman type
He'd travelled far and wide
His old ute was his fixed abode
His blue dog sat inside
M.B.
He smelt the tang of cypress smoke
loved it’s astringent smell
and knew that all was right with him
and with his world as well.
MKC
But then his blue dog sat up straight
with telltale twitching jowl.
That cypress tang extinguished by
the dingo's mournful howl.
M.P.
He threw a log on to the fire
and watched it crackle bright,
then turned his back towards the flames
and settled for the night.
H.K.
Times they have gone
And years have gone too
The swaggies now gone
Will the drovers go too
WW
Again blue growls at wild dog howls
that echo through the night.
Then settles by the fire once more
still ready for a fight
TP
There came the sounds of running feet
approaching through the trees –
the air stopped still, the temp’rature
had dropped a few degrees.
JP
A group of jogging line dancers
Dressed in cowboy gear
He asked, expecting answers
"What the hell they doing here?"
NM
"We're jogging, jogging, jogging
'cause our campfire's just gone out;
but keep your distance, we've just had
a meal of sauerkraut!"
MV
The bushman cleared his throat and sniffed
what was once pure, clean air.
He grabbed his swag, said, "Come on Blue,
we must get out of there".
SH
He packed his gear, kicked out the fire
and went back to the house,
"Hey Mum you ought to tell them off,
they think I'm Mickey Mouse."
DS
He headed back towards the bush
with dog and mum at hand -
they'd gathered up some instruments
and formed a hard rock band.
JP
They learnt three chords and thrashed them out
the joggers danced in line,
as feedback from the P.A. made
the blue dog start to whine
MP
The old bushies mum was still alive ?
we really were amazed
but they build them strong in Thologolong
se he wasnt really fazed
MB
They build them strong
They build them tough
Now that’s not wrong
But dancing's rough
WW
About this time the bushman
wakes up with a throbbing head.
and swears of booze for evermore,
he'll stick with tea instead.
TP
puts Lapsang Souchong in the pot
more than enough for two.
He figured Mum would like a cup -
she loved that smoky brew
MKC
The poor old Blue dog he lay down
Pretending he was dead
All this stuff his boss was dreaming
Was just doing in his head
DS
By now the sun was in the sky
and it was getting hot.
He prodded Blue to wake him up;
he’d best be on the trot.
H.K.
The blue dogs ears prick up alert
the sound of strangers near
It's Marty P and some Bloke Mad Mick
Dropping in to have a beer
MB
He told them that they couldn’t stop
they should be on their way.
He didn’t have much beer to share
he said they couldn’t stay!
HK
It turned out that the bloody lot
were poets in disguise
so Burnt Bum Billy, Blue and Bushie
shot through with the flies.
GP
For he was just a simple bloke
who didn't mind a beer
but he was dammed if he would sit
with poofy poets near
MKC
The poets were offended
so together they gave chase.
Now Billy’s back’s against the wall
and Blue has lost the race.
LP
I’m backed up there against the wall
I’m sure they won’t they grab me
Old blue he grabbed them by the legalls (sorry that don’t ryhym)
That dog then shook them free
WW
Enjambed hard up against the wall
he felt a strange sensation.
He braced himself for assonance
but copped alliteration
MP
There’ some bushies that I’ve known,
And these words to us have shown,
Why they really choose to wander,
In the country way out yonder.
DS
Now we know how bushies
rack up high kilometers.
They're fleeing hoards of poets
with iambic pentameters.
LP
"Now, stop that rot", the Bushman cried
"and come, sit down with me."
Again he rustled up a fire
and made some billy tea.
ZK
Zondrae King
a woman of words
a woman of words
-
Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8057
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
Re: Collaborative Poem - The Camp Fire Billy Boils
OI OI OI ---ok lets put this one to rest - we've had a bit of fun and those who were a bit dubious about it can see it is nothing to be scared off and might have a go at this one.
This one is designed to stretch you a little - just a little and like a crossword has more than one prompt that can be woven into it.
Lets set some rules - easy ones to start with
Each verse must have 4 lines and lets suggest the first line has 14 syllables--then mix it up a bit just to add a degree of difficulty so that we run with 14//12/14/12 - OK with that? Rhyming pattern to follow on from the first verse - so if whoever writes the first verse goes with AbbCthen the rest of us like well trained sheep follow nicely through the gate - no stragglers or we will have the send the dogs after you.
Now Heather will want to know the Dogs names - so we have Lucy, Sally, Jodie and Fly.
Set of prompts - Bush Poetry right? How's about?? Try to weave them in as we go along and I don't mean everyone use them - if one suits what you are writing then go for it - we don't want six verses all with a set of longyards beneath the cypress ridge out the back of beyond with Kangaroos grazing on Mother Earth.
Cypress Ridge
longyard
back of beyond
Native animals (free choice)
Mother Earth
It is 1pm Saturday - if there isn't anything up here by 6pm Saturday - (come on 5hours - that's plenty of time) I'll put the 1st verse up.
Whoever kicks it off can choose a title - Right oh folks - get po'in lets see who is first out of the gate..... now Lucy, Sally - come behind, come behind.
Have started a new post for this - see Collaborative Poem Number 2
Cheers
Maureen
PS - Z &L - Chickens
This one is designed to stretch you a little - just a little and like a crossword has more than one prompt that can be woven into it.
Lets set some rules - easy ones to start with
Each verse must have 4 lines and lets suggest the first line has 14 syllables--then mix it up a bit just to add a degree of difficulty so that we run with 14//12/14/12 - OK with that? Rhyming pattern to follow on from the first verse - so if whoever writes the first verse goes with AbbCthen the rest of us like well trained sheep follow nicely through the gate - no stragglers or we will have the send the dogs after you.
Now Heather will want to know the Dogs names - so we have Lucy, Sally, Jodie and Fly.
Set of prompts - Bush Poetry right? How's about?? Try to weave them in as we go along and I don't mean everyone use them - if one suits what you are writing then go for it - we don't want six verses all with a set of longyards beneath the cypress ridge out the back of beyond with Kangaroos grazing on Mother Earth.
Cypress Ridge
longyard
back of beyond
Native animals (free choice)
Mother Earth
It is 1pm Saturday - if there isn't anything up here by 6pm Saturday - (come on 5hours - that's plenty of time) I'll put the 1st verse up.
Whoever kicks it off can choose a title - Right oh folks - get po'in lets see who is first out of the gate..... now Lucy, Sally - come behind, come behind.
Have started a new post for this - see Collaborative Poem Number 2
Cheers
Maureen
PS - Z &L - Chickens
Last edited by Maureen K Clifford on Sat Nov 20, 2010 1:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.