{"id":191,"date":"2010-06-09T20:49:49","date_gmt":"2010-06-09T10:49:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/?p=191"},"modified":"2010-10-11T16:19:54","modified_gmt":"2010-10-11T06:19:54","slug":"australian-bush-poetry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/australian-bush-poetry\/","title":{"rendered":"Australian Bush Poetry"},"content":{"rendered":"

A New South Wales customer rang today and told me what a caning they’d had over the last ten years or so, and that today they were drafting up sheep to send them off on agistment. To many false starts, too many times plants have germinated and not received the follow-up rain required to ensure they reach maturity and replenish the soil seed bank. Very depressing.<\/p>\n

Murray Hartin<\/a> (‘Muz’) is a fabulously talented and entertaining bush poetry writer and performer, who we first saw performing in Winton more than a decade ago. ‘Turbulence’ was initially his best known poem – the hilarious description of a bloke ‘riding’ his swag in a rough plane. Three years ago Murray Hartin wrote a poignant poem called ‘Rain from Nowhere’, promoting the ‘Beyond Blue’ help line and with a request that people donate to the CWA:<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>RAIN FROM NOWHERE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

His cattle didn\u2019t get a bid, they were fairly bloody poor,<\/span><\/p>\n

What was he going to do? He couldn\u2019t feed them anymore,<\/span><\/p>\n

The dams were all but dry, hay was thirteen bucks a bale,<\/span><\/p>\n

Last month\u2019s talk of rain was just a fairytale,<\/span><\/p>\n

His credit had run out, no chance to pay what\u2019s owed,<\/span><\/p>\n

Bad thoughts ran through his head as he drove down <\/span>Gully Road<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGeez, great grandad bought the place back in 1898,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/em>\u201cNow I\u2019m such a useless bastard, I\u2019ll have to shut the gate.<\/span><\/em><\/span> <\/span>“Can\u2019t support my wife and kids, not like dad and those before,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em>\u201cChrist, Grandma kept it going while Pop fought in the war.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em>\u201cSee, I\u2019d borrowed way too much to buy the Johnson place<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

With depression now his master, he abandoned what was right,<\/span><\/p>\n

There\u2019s no place in life for failures, he\u2019d end it all tonight.<\/span><\/p>\n

There were still some things to do, he\u2019d have to shoot the cattle first,<\/span><\/p>\n

Of all the jobs he\u2019d ever done, that would be the worst.<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019d have a shower, watch the news, then they\u2019d all sit down for tea<\/span><\/p>\n

Read his kids a bedtime story, watch some more TV,<\/span><\/p>\n

Kiss his wife goodnight, say he was off to shoot some roos<\/span><\/p>\n

Then in a paddock far away he\u2019d blow away the blues.<\/span><\/p>\n

But he drove in the gate and stopped \u2013 as he always had <\/span><\/p>\n

To check the roadside mailbox \u2013 and found a letter from his Dad.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now his dad was not a writer, Mum did all the cards and mail<\/span><\/p>\n

But he knew the style from the notebooks that he used at cattle sales,<\/span><\/p>\n

He sensed the nature of its contents, felt moisture in his eyes,<\/span><\/p>\n

Just the fact his dad had written was enough to make him cry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSon, I know it\u2019s bloody tough, it\u2019s a cruel and twisted game,<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cThis life upon the land when you\u2019re screaming out for rain,<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cThere\u2019s no candle in the darkness, not a single speck of light<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cBut don\u2019t let the demon get you, you have to do what\u2019s right,<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s in your head but push the bad thoughts well away<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cSee, you\u2019ll always have your family at the back end of the day<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

“You have to talk to someone, and yes I know I rarely did<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cBut you have to think about Fiona and think about the kids.<\/span><\/em> <\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/em><\/em>\u201cI\u2019m worried about you son, you haven\u2019t rung for quite a while,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cI know the road you\u2019re on \u2018cause I\u2019ve walked every bloody mile.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cThe date? December 7 back in 1983,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cBehind the shed I had the shotgun rested in the brigalow tree. <\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cThen it didn\u2019t rain for years and we got bombed by interest rates,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cThe bank was at the door, I didn\u2019t think I had a choice,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cI began to squeeze the trigger \u2013 that\u2019s when I heard your voice.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cYou said \u2018Where are you Daddy? It\u2019s time to play our game\u2019<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/span><\/em>“I\u2019ve got Squatter all set up, we might get General Rain.\u2019<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

“It really was that close, you\u2019re the one that stopped me son,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cAnd you\u2019re the one that taught me there\u2019s no answer in a gun.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cJust remember people love you, good friends won\u2019t let you down.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cLook, you might have to swallow pride and take that job in town,<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cJust \u2019til things come good, son, you\u2019ve always got a choice<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>\u201cAnd when you get this letter ring me, \u2019cause I\u2019d love to hear your voice.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Well he cried and laughed and shook his head then put the truck in gear,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Shut his eyes and hugged his dad in a vision that was clear,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Dropped the cattle at the yards, put the truck away<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Filled the troughs the best he could and fed his last ten bales of hay.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Then he strode towards the homestead, shoulders back and head held high,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He still knew the road was tough but there was purpose in his eye.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He called his wife and children, who\u2019d lived through all his pain,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Hugs said more than words \u2013 he\u2019d come back to them again,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

They talked of silver linings, how good times always follow bad,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Then he walked towards the phone, picked it up and rang his Dad.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And while the kids set up the Squatter, he hugged his wife again,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Then they heard the roll of thunder and they smelt the smell of rain.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Reproduced here with the permission of Murray <\/span>Hartin; copyright owner; <\/span><\/span>February 21, 2007.\u00a0 See Murray Hartin’s\u00a0<\/span> <\/em>website.<\/em><\/a> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

If you understand the story above, then you understand what life on the land is like.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A New South Wales customer rang today and told me what a caning they’d had over the last ten years or so, and that today they were drafting up sheep to send them off on agistment. To many false starts, too many times plants have germinated and not received the follow-up rain required to ensure […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[8],"tags":[162],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/191"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=191"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/191\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":864,"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/191\/revisions\/864"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=191"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=191"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fionalake.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=191"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}