Dandenong
Hard by the gate-way of the East
She dips within her market square
With provender for man and beast,
And goods and chattels round her there.
A cheery, buxom market dame,
A well-filled basket on her arm,
She calls her wares and makes due claim
Alike on factory and farm.
The neutral ground of her domain
Is loud with talk of crops and herds,
Where hucksters bargain for their gain
With judgment keen and weighted words;
Where sunburnt farmers, slow of speech,
Match wits with dapper city men
While she impartially from each
Takes toll and bids them come again.
With talk of rise and fall in stock,
With keen eyes for a horse's points,
The shrewd-eyed dealers hither flock
To peer in mouths and handle joints.
And shake their heads and turn away,
Then back again to name the price;
And jokes are mixed on market day
With loud-mouthed praise and sage advice.
Hard by the Western gate she sits,
Between the farmland and the town,
To gather all the scraps and bits
Of gossip that fly up and down;
And these she turns to her own good
A comfortable dame and keen,
Who earns an honest livelihood
As town and country go-between.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It seems to me that today if the artist wishes to be serious — to cut out a little original niche for himself, or at least preserve his own innocence of personality — he must once more sink himself in solitude. There are too much talk and gossip; pictures are apparently made, like stock-market prices, by competition of people eager for profit; in order to do anything at all we need (so to speak) the wit and ideas of our neighbors as much as the businessmen need the funds of others to win on the market. All this traffic sharpens our intelligence and falsifies our judgment.
quote by Edgar Degas
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Welcome To Sleazy Town
One hand on the controller
One hand on the re-wind
You can even watch it all in slow mo
cos you just sit at home all day
Now you got plenty of time
If you want some real live action
And the videos too tame
If you wanna touch some heat
But you dont know how to light that flame
If you want some satisfaction
Instead of studying the freeze frame
I used to have this spot on main street
It was bounding, it was hot
It was dark, it was dirty
But dull it was not
The joint was jumping every night
But now its just a parking lot
This city was cruel
This city was keen
This city was alive
This city was mean
Till the office blocks and parking lots
Came and closed this city down
I could stand outside
The kids hung round
And the neon sign said
Welcome to sleazy town
Welcome to sleazy town
Sleazy, sleazy town
Everybody hung loose
It was cool and easy
People used to meet and have a good time
Down in sleazy town, sleazy town, sleazy town, sleazy town
Then the corporations came along
And bought this piece of ground
The leases all went up
And so the buildings all came down
They built the motorways and shopping malls
And they killed off sleazy town
This city was cool
This city was keen
This city was alive
This city was till the office blocks and parking lots
Came and closed this city down
I could stand outside, the kids hung round
And the neon sign said
Welcome to sleazy town
Welcome to sleazy town, sleazy, sleazy town
City hall killed off that scene
Now sleazy town is just a dream
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sailor and the Market Man
'I ask you to see reason'
Says the sailor who is stern;
'You know full well that from the sea
A living I must earn;
I'll bother you to shake on it,
I haven't got all day;
Come on now make your mind up,
It ain't a lot to pay! '
'My friend, your price is far too high'
The market-man declares,
'Go find another buyer now
Who'll rid you of your wares.
I know the fish you bring to sell
Are fat and fresh and sound,
But I must make a living too
By watching every pound.'
The sailor and the market-man
They argue every day,
As if there's no tomorrow,
And each must have his say.
The sailor and the market-man
At odds they'll always be,
Until they've taken all
The little fishes from the sea.
Written Dec 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Me Down
Someday Im gonna pack up
And then Im goin back up
To that place where sentimental feelings arouse
Where the grass is so green
And the air is so clean
That when the wind is right you can even smell the cows
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Where time shifts into neutral
And idles away
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Ive got to get back
To that city today
If youre new in town
Then youll wanna look around
But you dont know where to begin
Well, theres bubble gum alley
And the local car rally
Not to mention the toilets at madonna inn
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Where time shifts into neutral
And idles away
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Ive got to get back
To that city today
Its not much of a hassle
To drive up to hearsts castle
And its not too far from pismo beach or morro rock
You can visit downtown at your leisure
Because for your shopping pleasure
The stores never close down until five oclock
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Where time shifts into neutral
And idles away
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Ive got to get back
To that city today
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Where time shifts into neutral
And idles away
Take me down (take me down)
To that good old slo town
Ive got to get back
To that city today
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lay Of Last Monkey
I am last in the whole world wide,
For my brothers all have gone,
One by one have the martyrs died,
That mankind might live on.
High am I set in the market square,
Widely my fame abounds,
And for me a Yankee millionaire
Bids fifty million pounds.
Keen goes the bidding; fierce the fight,
There are cries on every hand....
But I mean to take to the woods tonight;
And they'll never get my gland!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Market Square Heroes
(derek dick, mark kelly, steve rothery, peter trewavas, michael pointer, brian jellyman, diz minnett)
I found smog at the end of my rainbow
I found my thoughts shift slowly into phase
Declared the constitution of the walkway
I realise its time to plan the day, the day
Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse
Are you following me, are you following me?
Well suffer my pretty warriors and follow me
I got a golden handshake that nearly broke my arm
I left the ranks of shuffling graveyard people
I got rust upon my hands from the padlocked factory gates
Silent chimneys provide the silent steeples
Cause Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse, the streetpulse
Are you following me? are you following me?
Well suffer my pretty children and follow me, follow me
Change, change, change!
Change, change, change!
I am your antichrist show me allegiance
Are you following me
I am your antichrist pledge to me defiance
Are you following me
Suffer my pretty warriors
Suffer my fallen child
Are you following me
The time has come to conquer and Ill provide your end
Suffer!
We march!
I give peace signs when I wage war in the disco
Im the warrior in the ultra violet haze
Armed with antisocial insecurity
I plan the path of destiny from this maze
Cause Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse, the streetpulse
Are you following me? are you following me?
Well suffer my fallen angels and follow me
Im the market square hero
Im the market square hero
Were market square heroes
Were the market square heroes
Are you following me?
Im the market square hero!
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Do You Post A Poem Posted Days Ago?
i notice it
you keep on posting
and reposting poems
days ago
like wares
in the flea market
left unsold
last sunday
on a monday
i see your
poem again
looks like
a commodity
and you the
poet becomes
the cheap
vendor
shouting
for the
possible
victim?
i see, poems
too are goods
that you display
over and over
again
and reading
them makes
me feel
like i am
this shopper
repelled
by this
persistent
hawker?
ok, today
is another
poetic market
day
excuse me,
how much
is that poem?
yes the one
with lesser words
the one that
is worn out
yes, the one
that never
sells
yes the one
that is
outmoded
discount, please.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memo To Human Resources
I'll be in the back, and I don't need the help
I'm good here in the back
I'm good all by myself
I'm busy taking stock of all the things that I've forgot (5 4 3 2)
And making mental notes of just exactly where I lost the plot (2 2 2 2)
I stuck around too long feeling sorry for myself
A disinvited guest rifles through the bathroom shelf
I'm searching for some disbelief that I can still suspend (5 4 3 2)
But never mind the furthermore-the plea is self-defense again (2 2 2 2)
Then the people came to talk me down
And I got some advice
Then the people came to talk me down
But I don't need advice-I'm down
Later in my car I considered what you said
I'm good here in my car
I'm good with what you said
And I'd be shouting out to you but I was mighty hoarse
Talk you through the finer points and issues much too small to force
Then the people came to talk me down
And I got some advice
Then the people came to talk me down
But I don't need advice-I'm down
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the market is always going to be around. The goal is not to say, let's get rid of the market, because the market does render a huge number of services, and I don't want to have a fight about the price of something every time I buy a book or a bottle of water.
quote by Susan George
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food Left To Rot
market price
market fixed
market profit
not worth picking
costs more picking
than sold price paid
never fruit picked
never taste eaten
never starving fed
global waste sickening
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard Times In New York Town
Come you ladies and you gentlemen, a-listen to my song.
Sing it to you right, but you might think its wrong.
Just a little glimpse of a story Ill tell
Bout an east coast city that you all know well.
Its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Old new york city is a friendly old town,
From washington heights to harlem on down.
Theres a-mighty many people all millin all around,
Theyll kick you when youre up and knock you when youre down.
Its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Its a mighty long ways from the golden gate
To rockefeller plaza n the empire state.
Mister rockefeller sets up as high as a bird,
Old mister empire never says a word.
Its hard times from the country,
Livin down in new york town.
Well, its up in the mornin tryin to fins a job of work.
Stand in one place till your feet begin to hurt.
If you go a lot o money you can make yourself merry,
If you only got a nickel, its the staten island ferry.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Mister hudson come a-sailin down the stream
And old mister minuet paid for his dream.
Bought your city on a one-way track,
f I had my way Id sell it right back.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Ill take all the smog in cal-i-for-ne-ay,
n every bit of dust in the oklahoma plains,
n the dirt in the caves of the rocky mountain mines.
Its all much cleaner than the new york kind.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
So all you newsy people, spread the news around,
You cn listen to m story, listen to m song.
You cn step on my name, you cn try n get me beat,
When I leave new york, Ill be standin on my feet.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tale of Emma Chissett - for Dan Dan the Betcha Man
Emma Chissett’s
missed out lunch;
she’s suffering
a credit crunch;
Emma Chissett
checks out who
today is offering
three-for-two;
Emma checks
the cornbeef tins
in those illegal
‘sell by’ bins;
finds ‘eat by’ dates
passed (hard to see..):
mentions this;
and gets them free;
Emma’s icebox
shelves for meat
holds tougher cuts:
chew first, then eat..
Emma’s sharp eye
spots bruised fruit;
negotiates
a price to suit;
Emma does
these shops a good turn:
avoids some angry
customer return;
she’s there before
every Church bazaar:
spots the mispriced
from afar;
turns the expensive
fashion gown
to show the tear or stain;
brings the price right down;
and woe betide
a market stall:
‘emmachissett? ’..
and prices fall..
Emma Chissett, with
her sharp-eyed corncrake voice,
weather-hen of our economy;
true star of Market Choice..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Two Old Bachelors
Two old Bachelors were living in one house;
One caught a Muffin, the other caught a Mouse.
Said he who caught the Muffin to him who caught the Mouse,--
'This happens just in time! For we've nothing in the house,
'Save a tiny slice of lemon nd a teaspoonful of honey,
'And what to do for dinner -- since we haven't any money?
'And what can we expect if we haven't any dinner,
'But to loose our teeth and eyelashes and keep on growing thinner?'
Said he who caught the Mouse to him who caught the Muffin,--
'We might cook this little Mouse, if we had only some Stuffin'!
'If we had but Sage andOnion we could do extremely well,
'But how to get that Stuffin' it is difficult to tell'--
Those two old Bachelors ran quickly to the town
And asked for Sage and Onions as they wandered up and down;
They borrowed two large Onions, but no Sage was to be found
In the Shops, or in the Market, or in all the Gardens round.
But some one said, -- 'A hill there is, a little to the north,
'And to its purpledicular top a narrow way leads forth;--
'And there among the rugged rocks abides an ancient Sage,--
'An earnest Man, who reads all day a most perplexing page.
'Climb up, and seize him by the toes! -- all studious as he sits,--
'And pull him down, -- and chop him into endless little bits!
'Then mix him with your Onion, (cut up likewise into Scraps,)--
'When your Stuffin' will be ready -- and very good: perhaps.'
Those two old Bachelors without loss of time
The nearly purpledicular crags at once began to climb;
And at the top, among the rocks, all seated in a nook,
They saw that Sage, a reading of a most enormous book.
'You earnest Sage!' aloud they cried, 'your book you've read enough in!--
'We wish to chop you into bits to mix you into Stuffin'!'--
But that old Sage looked calmly up, and with his awful book,
At those two Bachelors' bald heads a certain aim he took;--
and over crag and precipice they rolled promiscuous down,--
At once they rolled, and never stopped in lane or field or town,--
And when they reached their house, they found (besides their want
of Stuffin',)
The Mouse had fled; -- and, previously, had eaten up the Muffin.
They left their home in silence by the once convivial door.
And from that hour those Bachelors were never heard of more.
poem by Edward Lear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Like
It makes you wonder just who they really are
They say money is no object and weve got a car
They kidnapped tony where did they go
They went to get it done before he got too old
Theyre incognito, theyre into fame
They think they know it all you know their familys to blame
Isnt it funny, isnt it sad
You come up empty thinking bout the good times that you had
But:
I like, when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
I like, when it blows real hard and it doesnt even show
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
It makes you wonder bout the things they say
We are never gonna leave, we are never gonna stay
They talk for nothing, they talk for free
They talk behind your back and to youre face theyre really sweet
Check out the language, check out the clothes
Their mother buys them shoes n where she gets them no-one knows
They go to parties to steal the show
By talking really loud n try to tell you what they know
But:
I like, when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
I like, when it blows real hard and it doesnt even show
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
I like when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
Say, I like when it blows real hard and it doesnt even show
Say, I like when they havent seen a thing and try to tell you where to go
Say, I like when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
What do they really know?
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like
It makes you wonder just who they really are
They say money is no object and weve got a car
They kidnapped tony where did they go
They went to get it done before he got too old
Theyre incognito, theyre into fame
They think they know it all you know their familys to blame
Isnt it funny, isnt it sad
You come up empty thinking bout the good times that you had
But:
I like, when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
I like, when it blows real hard and it doesnt even show
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
It makes you wonder bout the things they say
We are never gonna leave, we are never gonna stay
They talk for nothing, they talk for free
They talk behind your back and to youre face theyre really sweet
Check out the language, check out the clothes
Their mother buys them shoes n where she gets them no-one knows
They go to parties to steal the show
By talking really loud n try to tell you what they know
But:
I like, when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
I like, when it blows real hard and it doesnt even show
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
They say: its plain to see, life is not a mystery to me
I say: thats plain as day I hope youve got yours right anyway
I like when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
Say, I like when it blows real hard and it doesnt even show
Say, I like when they havent seen a thing and try to tell you where to go
Say, I like when they talk really loud trying to tell you what they know
What do they really know?
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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John The Baptist At The River Jordan
I see them standing in their best clothes as holy people
at the market square, the threshing-floor and the well
hitting with their fists proudly on their breasts,
even where rich old men doze off at the city gate
as if they want to shout, that they are children of Abraham
are saved as his descendants,
are free from their lineage but as a brood of vipers
they rise around me with love missing from their hearts
where they only wait for a moment,
are waiting to strike and backward to rob, plunder
and they think that they are saved
and where I am baptising
they stand and gossip backwardly,
are coming with questions set as traps
and I wonder if I have to walk up to them,
have got to drive them away
and have to rub in their sins
in front of the people, the city, the whole world?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The stock market can be down, but the stock market is not an indication of where people's spirits and enthusiam are, and where their intellectual energy is.
quote by James Daly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sound Of The Crowd
Put your hand in a party wave
Pass around
Make a shroud pulling combs through a backwash frame
Find the copies in a carbon mount
Pass around
Stroke a pocket with a print of a laughing sound
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
The shades from a pencil peer
Pass around
A fold in an eyelid brushed with fear
The lines on a compact guide
Pass around
A hat with alignment worn insde
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
Get in line now
Get in line now
Stay in time with the rhythm and rhyme
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Talk
Dont talk back to me, dont talk back to me
Dont talk back to me, dont talk
Going round in circles, hearing too many points of view
Just words to tire me out, small talk I could do without
I would be amazed if you returned to see things my way
Now that youve been disrespectful to my sense of pride
Isnt it a shame that you were lying when you said to me (small talk)
I was the only one, you and I were meant to be
I expect youll never really feel the way that I do
All of this is with regret, Im sure you will agree
Say something to me, anything at all
I want you to mean what you say
Ive seen all I want to see, and you mean the world to me
Ive lived for each moment to be with you, with you, with you
Small talk, small talk, small talk, small talk
You say I dont talk enough, that applies to both of us
Dont try to sound me out, something I could do without
So much goes on inside your head, I often wonder
Have you heard enough to know, theres nothing left to say
Say something to me, anything at all
I want you to mean what you say
Ive seen all I want to see, and you mean the world to me
Ive lived for each moment to be with you, with you, with you
Small talk
Small talk
Ooh small talk
Thats all I ever hear
Small talk
Ill be alright
It may take sometime
But Ill be alright (dont talk back to me)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (dont want to be alone, nothing worth to carry on)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (try hard to understand, you wont seem to lend a hand)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (without youll fail to see, you never spare a thought for me)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (so many things you said, going round in circles)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (Ill rise above it all, enough to see another day)
Ill be alright
Ill be alright
Dont talk back to me...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Walgett Episode
The sun strikes down with a blinding glare;
The skies are blue and the plains are wide,
The saltbush plains that are burnt and bare
By Walgett out on the Barwon side --
The Barwon River that wanders down
In a leisurely manner by Walgett Town.
There came a stranger -- a "Cockatoo" --
The word means farmer, as all men know,
Who dwell in the land where the kangaroo
Barks loud at dawn, and the white-eyed crow
Uplifts his song on the stock-yard fence
As he watches the lambkins passing hence.
The sunburnt stranger was gaunt and brown,
But it soon appeared that he meant to flout
The iron law of the country town,
Which is -- that the stranger has got to shout:
"If he will not shout we must take him down,"
Remarked the yokels of Walgett Town.
They baited a trap with a crafty bait,
With a crafty bait, for they held discourse
Concerning a new chum who there of late
Had bought such a thoroughly lazy horse;
They would wager that no one could ride him down
The length of the city of Walgett Town.
The stranger was born on a horse's hide;
So he took the wagers, and made them good
With his hard-earned cash -- but his hopes they died,
For the horse was a clothes-horse, made of wood! --
'Twas a well-known horse that had taken down
Full many a stranger in Walgett Town.
The stranger smiled with a sickly smile --
'Tis a sickly smile that the loser grins --
And he said he had travelled for quite a while
A-trying to sell some marsupial skins.
"And I thought that perhaps, as you've took me down,
You would buy them from me, in Walgett Town!"
He said that his home was at Wingalee,
At Wingalee, where he had for sale
Some fifty skins and would guarantee
They were full-sized skins, with the ears and tail
Complete; and he sold them for money down
To a venturesome buyer in Walgett Town.
Then he smiled a smile as he pouched the pelf,
"I'm glad that I'm quit of them, win or lose:
You can fetch them in when it suits yourself,
And you'll find the skins -- on the kangaroos!"
Then he left -- and the silence settled down
Like a tangible thing upon Walgett Town.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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