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Array ( [sid] => 38005 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Weedy...part 3 [time] => 2004-03-09 18:08:01 [hometext] => Weedy is a mate, one of the last of his tribe. (with all respect and permission from David) [bodytext] => Rolling hills surround as they have done for all time
Sentinels stand aloof with silence as their creed
The Gibbers with their iron red hue don’t hinder my native step
I am a native of this land and I tend to my own need.

Distance has no meaning here time it does not count
The sun beats down on no one else but me and my spirit friends
Saltbush grasps at sand and rock it struggles to stay alive
Out here money means nothing-nor does the Whiteman trends.

My tough and rugged lines and words-hide my lonely times
They think I am a drunkard, a loser, BUT I AM THE COONGEE MAN!
I walk my country alone as I am the last one of my tribe
A lonely man whose only link now is in this silent land.

I see the spirit dreaming upon the Coongee Lakes
I dream of campfires, Didgeridoo and Corroborees
My eyes no more see my mother the one who gave me life
The one who taught me all I know under the Coolibah trees.

I feel the country through my heart, I listen to it's call
I know when it is crying or when it's feeling gay
She speaks to me through birds, through the wind upon my face
And I have learnt to listen to everything she might say.

So in two hundred years you changed a landscape
We kept safe for thousands of years
It is our mother our sanctuary
You have given her many tears.

My kind has seen the change that the Whiteman brought out here
The hatred the bitterness, his greed and poisonous way
Lies and complications follow him like a crow does to a carcass
My forefathers believed him, not knowing how much we’d pay.

When you speak to me I won't listen for I've seen the country glisten
In gold and ochre red sunsets-after stormy days
I see beauty in rugged places in my forgotten brother's faces
And you will never know, of my ancient tribal ways.
[comments] => 5 [counter] => 217 [topic] => 55 [informant] => twinkletoes [notes] => (Edited by mod_10 as requested) [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
Weedy...part 3

Contributed by twinkletoes on Tuesday, 9th March 2004 @ 06:08:01 PM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems



Rolling hills surround as they have done for all time
Sentinels stand aloof with silence as their creed
The Gibbers with their iron red hue don’t hinder my native step
I am a native of this land and I tend to my own need.

Distance has no meaning here time it does not count
The sun beats down on no one else but me and my spirit friends
Saltbush grasps at sand and rock it struggles to stay alive
Out here money means nothing-nor does the Whiteman trends.

My tough and rugged lines and words-hide my lonely times
They think I am a drunkard, a loser, BUT I AM THE COONGEE MAN!
I walk my country alone as I am the last one of my tribe
A lonely man whose only link now is in this silent land.

I see the spirit dreaming upon the Coongee Lakes
I dream of campfires, Didgeridoo and Corroborees
My eyes no more see my mother the one who gave me life
The one who taught me all I know under the Coolibah trees.

I feel the country through my heart, I listen to it's call
I know when it is crying or when it's feeling gay
She speaks to me through birds, through the wind upon my face
And I have learnt to listen to everything she might say.

So in two hundred years you changed a landscape
We kept safe for thousands of years
It is our mother our sanctuary
You have given her many tears.

My kind has seen the change that the Whiteman brought out here
The hatred the bitterness, his greed and poisonous way
Lies and complications follow him like a crow does to a carcass
My forefathers believed him, not knowing how much we’d pay.

When you speak to me I won't listen for I've seen the country glisten
In gold and ochre red sunsets-after stormy days
I see beauty in rugged places in my forgotten brother's faces
And you will never know, of my ancient tribal ways.




Copyright © twinkletoes ... [ 2004-03-09 18:08:01]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Weedy...part 3 (User Rating: 1 )
by Remy on Tuesday, 9th March 2004 @ 06:23:40 PM AEST
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ooo, i like this one! lots of good imagery, even if a lil angry... great write!! ;0)
~Remy~


Re: Weedy...part 3 (User Rating: 1 )
by Rakerman1999 on Tuesday, 9th March 2004 @ 08:32:28 PM AEST
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This is one of those stories that gets passed from generation to generation. Masterfully penned by a yoobo ( did I spell that right?) who is much more than he lets on.


Barkeep, keep a drink in front of my friend at all times.
Larry


Re: Weedy...part 3 (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Wednesday, 10th March 2004 @ 02:32:40 AM AEST
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Hey you should work for the Australian tourist board! you make it sound so nice over there.
Another excellent write.

wildejohnny.


Re: Weedy...part 3 (User Rating: 1 )
by DreamWeaver on Wednesday, 10th March 2004 @ 02:49:53 AM AEST
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I know how much these words mean to you ... your heart is in every one of these lines ... an awesome write that expresses your deep love for your native friend ... hugs Jan


Re: Weedy...part 3 (User Rating: 1 )
by ladyfawn on Wednesday, 10th March 2004 @ 03:05:53 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
this, to me, is by far the most beautiful poem i ever read that you've written, im captivated, sitting here in tears, remembering ayers rock and the sunrises, red desert, and those faces with so much expression my words do them no justice, ...i saw them being 'a part of' socioty at sydney harbor, playing didgeridoos, my whole experience in your beautiful world i will never forget, my heart goes out to weedy, blessings to him, and to you my friend, for warming my soul tonight, please never quit writing! hugs n' love nessa
@->>->-




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