ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

just had this accepted by Bar D Ranch Cowboy Poetry.......can you see me smiling

Goin' Piggin'

In the back of the Ute, water bag and boots,
fencing wire, ratchet and chains,
a shovel and pick and a crowbar,
and a dead roos quite smelly remains.
A carton of beer, for the day will be hot,
and a tarp and some ropes in a box,
plus an esky of food, ice to keep the beer cold.
Today we're out hunting for hog.

Those darn pigs are breeding, it's been a good season,
and lambs, well there were quite a few.
But sneaking at night like the Devil in flight,
come big pigs who kill, maim and chew..
The tables will turn, for we're now set to learn,
those darn pigs a lesson or two.
The pig traps are set and tomorrow I bet,
that we'll catch quite a few with the roo.

Carnivorous beasts, with their sharp cloven feet,
and big tusks on the boars ugly head.
They're killers of stock, not good for a lot,
though the overseas market it's said,
sells them off as wild boar, that's all they're good for.
Pig shooters take them to the box.
The scourge of the nation, on each outback station,
along with the crow and the fox.

The suckers are cute, little pink and black brutes,
but there’s no place for sentiment here.
You have to remember they'll grow - come December
on BarBQ plates they appear.
We've had good dogs killed or at least their blood spilled,
by these demons of parry and thrust.
A good dog will hold them at bay till you get there
to get a head shot as you must.

They'll rip you to shreds if unwary you tread,
cross the paddocks, unfettered and free.
And you know you're in strife as you run for your life
without spotting a suitable tree.
It happened to me, the legs went into freeze.
I then let loose with a bloody great yell.
My two dogs that were chasing, now turned back, came racing
to protect their mistress as well.

In gumboots and raincoat, with big hat on head,
it must have been a comical sight.
There was no tree to climb and I doubt my behind
would have made the manoeuvre in flight.
So I jumped up and down, screeched and flapped all around,
and waved a big stick in the air.
The pig was quite startled, and I was scared witless
until my dogs finally got there.

So climb into the Ute. Got your rifle to shoot?
For today we're not out hunting bear.
But down near the creek we're intending to sneak
for we know that the pigs have been there.
They've ploughed up the paddock, like Ute's doing donuts
we've found some small hooves from a lamb.
The lamb count is down. Pigs have been going to town.
Tomorrow they'll be turned into ham.

© 2011, Maureen Clifford

Good on you Maureen. A good rollicking ballad with lots of action.

I wonder if the Yankee cowboys know what a Ute or an Esky would be.

Just to be picky, if you put a comma after beer in line five, then we won't be wondering if you enjoy hot beer.

God forbid Neville hot beer!!!! I will rectify that immediately

Don't they have Ute's and Eskies over there???????

They stack their beer in the cooler and throw that into the pickup truck.
Also for them the station is where the train pulls in, the ranch is where they keep their stock

But you've been accepted, they stand to learn some Aussie bush poetic language

We just keep on hitting winners Maureen.

Maybe we will start to reverse the usual trend and they will follow us.

Hey had a look why no picture ????

Well done.


Bob

Congratulations Maureen, we certainly have some talent on this forum, Well done.

Cheers
Sue

Congratulations Maureen. How exciting for you. Don't change the words. Just give them a "key" so they can interpret for themselves.

Heather

Onya Maureen . . . up here piggin' is big - we just had the annual Cooktown Hog Hunt. Teams sign in Friday arvo - go bush then return for the weigh-in at the back of the pub Sunday lunch time. It gets bigger every year, is strictly regulated and hundreds of feral pigs are killed, though it surprises me the RSPCA does not condone pig hunting. Granted there is a certain amount of distress for the pig in the bailing and pinning, but most kills are quick. I reckon it's minor in comparison to the massive amount of destruction and the impact the wild pig has on native wildlife and vegetation.

The idea of a pig hunting poem has never gottten further than an idea for me - you've done it very vividly. Congrats.

Cheers, Marty

Thanks all - I am still grinning

Thanks Marty - I hate killing animals as you probably realize, and wild piglets are just as cute as any other baby animal. I know our world needs the scavenger animals to keep nature in balance, but I confess to not liking snakes or pigs, and after finding just the odd lambs foot on the ground on so many mornings or a dead ewe with her back end eaten out, attacked as she was down giving birth, and then losing Khadizia and never finding her body....catching and shooting feral pigs never sat uneasy on my conscience.

This by the way was a totally true story and I was scared witless alone on an open paddock with no trees within cooee and no rifle - the dogs and partner had got way ahead of me...this particular pig had laid doggo behind a fallen tree until they had passed by and then up and doubled back in my direction. My running days are long gone so my very undignified Mary Poppins impersonation seemed the only course of action.

Cheers

Maureen

We just make the things more and more complicated don't we. Reckon we should ban Political correctness and just replace it with common sense, good manners and general consideration.

How come we have a Jeep Grand Cherokee or is that not sold in US either and these guys should be rethinking their name perhaps Kilmore Truck & 4 X 4 ...could be a dangerous place to live in that Kilmore