The Eureka Stockade
The Bard stopped at Footscray
on the road to Ballarat
researching The Eureka Stockade
imagined the boys
manning the barricades
police bullets flying
hoisting the Southern Cross
and dying.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Related quotes
On The Flag Of The Southern Cross
On the flagpost in the freshening winds the flag of the Southern Cross
That brave workers once fought under does flap and wave and toss
In Ballarat in Australia where history was made
For their rights brave men died fighting at the Eureka Stockade
The Southern Cross above where they fought in the southern winds did blow
There history was created one hundred and fifty four years ago
The happening at Ballarat became known of Worldwide
Some of the miners who fought the Government troops were badly injured and some even died
For workers rights in Ballarat the price in human blood was paid
For the rights of a fair go it did not seem a fair trade
Each time I see the flag of the Southern Cross Ballarat comes to mind
The miners there who fought for workers rights were of the bravest kind
That great flag has a history for historians to recall
It surely stands for workers rights and a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In Ballarat Where History Don't Fade
In Ballarat where history don't fade
They still honour the Eureka Stockade,
The miners who fought some of them even died
For their rights to them that for years they had been denied
The Town of Ballarat known far and wide
And the people there in their history take pride
Their ancestors fought against their oppressors laws
And even took up arms for their worthy cause.
The name of Peter Lalor they revere
He led the miners fight and conquered fear
But for his fame a huge price he did pay
He lost an arm on that historic day.
The miners were defeated in the bloody fight
They succumbed to the Government forces greater might
But they won their rights for which they went to war
And the story of their bravery travelled far.
In Ballarat where history was made
They still revere the men of the stockade
Who fought against the forces of the crown
Long years ago in their historic town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ned Kelly Is Proud
It's a sad sad day...
Our land, being taken from us
No care for the future..
They; take and taking,
Government balls deep'n
the miners; shut up money
A beaut dummy!
What would old Ned think?
What would old Ned do?
Eureka; those Legends!
Young Ned grew up to, truly awed..
Those Old fellas swore an Oath
under our Southern Cross..
' stand truly by each other and
fight to defend our rights and liberties '
Ned and the Eureka mob; laughing at
you young fella's! Struttin around, pill poppin
Loose pizzles, Straight off the production floor,
Medicured with your tough stickers...
Wearing my Mask; our Southern Cross displayed for all...
Have you earned IT? ? ? ?
It's a sad sad day...
Our LAND, being TAKEN from US! !
Young Fella's....
Where are' YOU 'at the Marches, why are
you NOT at your neighbors side...
Bash'n each other?
It's not your fault! ! ! ! ! !
Wild Eyed Southern Boys
Its a hot night at the juke joint
And the bands pumpin rhythm and blues
Gonna spill a little rock and roll blood tonight
Gonna make some front page news
And the ladies hate the violence
Still they never seem to look away
Cause they love those
Wild eyed southern boys
Wild eyed boys
Wild eyed southern boys
Its a southern point of honor
You got a get right in on the action
You can hear the outlaws holler
Fight for the lady in black
And she's just one in a million
But she's all I need tonight
Cause she loves those
Wild eyed southern boys
Wild eyed boys
Wild eyed southern boys
Wild eyed boys
Oohhh yeah
Wild eyed boys
A man of wealth and power
Is out on the dance hall floor
He got a champagne Eldorado parked outside the door
And he's looking for a honky tonk angel
But he don't stand a chance in hell
Cause he ain't no wild eyed southern boy
Wild eyed boy
Wild eyed southern boy
Wild eyed
Wild eyed southern boy
Wild eyed southern boys
Wild eyed boy
Wild eyed southern boy
Wild eyed boy
Wild eyed boy
Wild eyed southern boys
Wild eyed boys
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Word from the Bards
IT IS New Year’s Day and I rise to state that here on the Sydney side
The Bards have commenced to fill out of late and they’re showing their binjies with pride
They’re patting their binjies with pride, old man, and I want you to understand,
That a binjied bard is a bard indeed when he sings in the Southern Land,
Old chaps,
When he sings in the Southern Land.
For the Southern Land is the Poet’s Home, and over the world’s wide roam,
There was never till now a binjied bard that lived in a poet’s home, old man;
For the poet’s home was a hell on earth, and I want you to understand,
That it isn’t exactly a paradise down here in the Southern Land,
Old chap,
Down here in the Southern Land.
The Beer and the Bailiff were gone last night and the “temple” doorstep clean,
And our heads are clear and our hearts are light with wine from the Riverine—
With wine from the Riverine, old man, and I want you to understand
That Bard, Beer and Bailiff too long were kin down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
It is not because of a larger fee, nor yet that the bards are free,
For the bards I know and the bards I see are married enough for three;
Are married enough for three, old man, and I want you to understand,
They’ve a right to be married enough for four, down here in the Southern Land,
My girl,
Down here in the Southern Land.
But I think it’s because a bird went round and twittered in ears of men
That bards have care and the world seems bare as seen from the rhyming den,
And twittered in ears of men, old chaps, and got folks to understand
That a poet is something more than a joke down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
poem by Henry Lawson
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At cross road
Never but at cross road,
Are we at cross road?
Is there any load?
Why not we meet?
Even at cross road.
Are we blood thirsty?
And care for no one,
who may come but none?
Doesn’t concern everyone?
Even at cross road.
Can we not share?
Misery and poverty,
happiness and unhappiness,
hunger and roofless human,
even at cross road.
Why do we cut?
Burn the green forest,
and big trees,
do we want disaster?
Even at cross road.
Rain is scarce,
food also less,
nature is finished,
no bloom for ever,
even at cross road.
Why do we cut throat?
Merely for greed,
does the religion preach?
Priests or heads just teach
Even at cross road.
I may not survive,
peace may not revive,
nobody will also survive,
we will soon be extinct,
even at cross road.
Time is running out,
Still human race is not out,
We may still be in,
Kindness may be over,
Even at cross road,
Life is worth to live in,
forget not but just be in,
embrace but not embarrass them,
help but not reject them
Even at cross road.
We May still not adopt,
remain at large but not still opt,
is the nature so cruel?
Kill and get also killed?
Even at cross road
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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W. M. A.
He won the lottery when he was born
Took his mothers white breast to his tongue
Trained like dogs, color and smell
Walks by me to get to him police man (2x)
He won the lottery by being born
Big hand slapped a white male merican
Do no wrong, so clean cut...
Dirty his hands, it comes right off
Police man (2x)
Police stopped my brother again (3x)
Police man (2x)
Jesus greets me...looks just like me...
Do no wrong, so clean cut
Dirty his hands, it comes right off
Police man (3x)
Police stopped my brother again (3x)
Police man (2x)
Police stopped my brother again (3x)
Police man (3x)
All my pieces set me free...human devices set me free...
All my pieces set me free... (2x) } (2x)
Human devices set me free... (2x) }
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballade Of The Southern Cross
Fair islands of the silver fleece,
Hoards of unsunned, uncounted gold,
Whose havens are the haunts of Peace,
Whose boys are in our quarrel bold;
OUR bolt is shot, our tale is told,
Our ship of state in storms may toss,
But ye are young if we are old,
Ye Islands of the Southern Cross!
Ay, WE must dwindle and decrease,
Such fates the ruthless years unfold;
And yet we shall not wholly cease,
We shall not perish unconsoled;
Nay, still shall Freedom keep her hold
Within the sea's inviolate fosse,
And boast her sons of English mould,
Ye Islands of the Southern Cross!
All empires tumble--Rome and Greece -
Their swords are rust, their altars cold!
For us, the Children of the Seas,
Who ruled where'er the waves have rolled,
For us, in Fortune's books enscrolled,
I read no runes of hopeless loss;
Nor--while YE last--our knell is tolled,
Ye Islands of the Southern Cross!
ENVOY.
Britannia, when thy hearth's a-cold,
When o'er thy grave has grown the moss,
Still Rule Australia shall be trolled
In Islands of the Southern Cross!
poem by Andrew Lang
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Imagined
Imagined the world described as heaven
Imagined the world all is even
Imagined everywhere without evil
Imagined the absence of soldier only civil
Imagined a quest between good nature existence
Imagined people, place and body with no cause for defence
Imagined air, love, soul and all virtues show their face
Imagined the extinction of all the different race
Imagined we always praise him who live above
Imagined nature ruffs all calm like pure dove
Imagined that you are not imagining
But all this is happening
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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I Know What Boys Like
Boys, boys
He you wanna know something?
Boys, boys
Boys like girls
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I seem them looking (looking)
I make them want me
I like to tease them
And they want to touch me
I never let them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me
I got my cat moves
That so upsets them
Zippers and buttons
Fun to frustrate them
They get so angry
Like pouty children
Denied their candy
I laugh right at them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I think you're special
I might let you
You're so much different
I might let you
There's no one like you
I might let you
Or would you like that?
I might let you
Sucker!
Boys, b-b-boys
Boys, b-b-b-boys
G-g-g-g-got what boys want
G-g-g-got
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
Yeah, I know what boys like
Come on girls, you know what they like
It ain't no secret
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Australia's Forgotten Flag
Oh! the Cross of deepest blue,
With the bright stars shining through,
That was raised, my sons, for you,
On a skirt of purest whiteness long ago,
Long ago,
Long ago,
On the field of far Eureka long ago.
Oh! the girl that sewed the silk,
Blue as skies and white as milk,
(Jeanie Scotland – of that ilk)
In the hut there by Eureka long ago –
Years agone –
Auld Lang Syne –
With her young dead digger sweetheart on Eureka long ago.
Oh! the prayer the diggers said,
With the Southern Cross o'erhead!
It is whispered by the dead –
In the graveyard by Eureka whispered still –
Whispered still,
Murmured still,
By the shades that haunt Eureka murmured still.
Oh! the brother and the mate,
In the bonds of love and hate,
Ah! the help that came too late,
When the diggers marched from Creswick to the dawn,
Years agone!
Long years gone,
Oh! the midnight march from Creswick to Eureka and the dawn!
Few, and taken by surprise,
Oh! the mist that hid the skies –
And the steel in diggers' eyes –
Sunday morning in September long ago;
And they grapple and they strike –
With the pick-handle and pike –
Twenty minutes freed Australia at Eureka long ago.
For the leader won his crown,
Though the flag was trampled down,
For it rose in Melbourne town,
Oh, it rose in Melbourne city that same year,
With a clear
Ringing cheer
Oh! it floated high in Melbourne that same year.
When the London strikers starved,
While old England's roast was carved,
And our loaf with them was halved,
Then they bore our flag through London wreathed in flowers,
Wreathed in flowers,
Wreathed in flowers,
In the dreary streets of London, brightest spot in those dark hours.
They have stained it mongrel red,
And the stars are dull and dead,
With a northern cross instead,
Oh. the bloodstain like a red star long ago,
Long ago –
Long ago –
Oh! the red star that was bloodstain on the goldfields long ago.
We're divided – we are curst,
By the paltriest and worst,
Parties striving to be first.
But the shots from far Eureka echo yet,
Echo yet, –
Echo yet.
And they rattle round my window in the wet.
Flag and banner of my dreams!
The time is not as it seems,
And the tide of freedom streams
With the spirit of the people over all.
We shall raise the bright flag yet,
Ne'er to falter or forget,
And 'twill go through many battles ne'er to fall.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Flying
All life through
Just the two -
Two birds freely flying
Two birds tacitly trying -
Together they always flew
Because they always knew
To not fly
Was to die -
Therefore, together, they always, always flew...
Right up until,
The very day their lives were through...
When they were gone
Friends gathered to sing them this love song:
'Birds of a feather were they
Always flying together unto the last day -
For what they knew is true,
Birds of a feather
Die fearless, and freest, together -
They never stopped flying,
They never stopped trying,
Until dying
They went forever together,
To freely fly
And never more die,
Nor even part -
Eternally connected, soul to soul,
And heart to heart. '
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Accidental
She went over us, after a while she halted
And turned back, the same car had stopped.
But where was the blood? It was nowhere
To be seen. It was never reported even to say ‘beware’!
I just stopped talking to the police
After I grassed on her or him, rather than release.
The police do not know me,
But could not know him or her or he.
I just panted over and over and over,
Like a wolf or a lion in a frenzied fever.
I want results, but had none,
Now I want more, but I’m feminine.
Women will want more from an occasion,
And that means I shrug and cause an explosion.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Sailing
(gavin sutherland, 1972)
I am sailing, I am sailing,
Home again cross the sea.
I am sailing, stormy waters,
To be near you, to be free.
I am flying, I am flying,
Like a bird cross the sky.
I am flying, passing high clouds,
To be with you, to be free.
Can you hear me, can you hear me
Thro the dark night, far away,
I am dying, forever trying,
To be with you, who can say.
Can you hear me, can you hear me,
Thro the dark night far away.
I am dying, forever trying,
To be with you, who can say.
We are sailing, we are sailing,
Home again cross the sea.
We are sailing stormy waters,
To be near you, to be free.
Oh lord, to be near you, to be free.
Oh lord, to be near you, to be free,
Oh lord.
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Barriers and barricades!
Is it possible?
We all have forgotten our all identity,
The only identity stands is the human,
There is no land, no border,
No religious distance, no races,
What if we all were only man?
Is it possible?
We need no passport or visa,
We are traveling all around the world,
No immigration, no customs,
No cultural variation or discrimination,
What if we all were only man?
May be one day it will,
We would be able to stand as one,
We would dissolves all barriers,
But the barricades in the walk of life,
That create complexities among us,
How can we cross that barricade?
How can we change these hearts,
Those have known the variations,
Have been self centered inside us,
How can we overcome these barricades?
What if we all were only man?
poem by Kafil Uddin Raihan.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road
The chicken was undecided on whether to cross the road,
she was a short sighted chicken
who, not being able to see across the road
couldn't quite understand the advantages
of being on the other side.
People passing by the chicken
stopped to ask if she wanted to get across the road
but the chicken just clucked, indecisively,
looking very concerned as to her own
demise if she should attempt to.
After all, should she transverse the road
and avoid oncoming vehicles
she would then be stuck on the other side
but should she not, then she may well
feel unfulfilled, unaccomplished.
Not wanting to disappoint,
let down, or cause a disturbance
the chicken did a little shake,
a little flutter and hop, skipped
and jumped across the road.
A local lorry came hurtling towards her,
she saw the headlights, heard the horn
but too late! There were chicken bits
all over the place while a local
reporter took notes, writing:
We'll never know why the chicken
tried to cross that road in heavy traffic
but she was pronounced dead
on arrival at the local hospital.
They'll be no live chicken tonight.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Through The Barricades
Mother doesnt know where love has gone
She says it must be youth
That keeps us feeeling strong
See it in her face, thats turned to ice
And when she smiles she shows
The lines of sacrifice
And now I know what theyre saying
When the sun begins to fade
And we made our love on wasteland
And through the barricades
Father made my history
He fought for what he thought
Would set us somehow free
He tought me what to say in school
I learned off by heart
But now thats torn in two
And now I know what theyre saying
In the music of the parade
We made our love on wasteland
And through the barricades
Born on different sides of life
We feel the same
And feel all of this strife
So come to me when Im asleep
Well cross the line
And dance upon the street
And now I know what theyre saying
When the drums begin to fade
We made our love on wasteland
And through the barricades
Oh, turn around and Ill be there
Theres a scar through my heart
But Ill bare it again
I thought? we were the human race
But we were just another border-line-case
And the stars reach down and tell us
That theres always one escape
I dont know where love has gone
And in this trouble land
Desperation keep us strong
Fridays child is full of soul
With nothing left to lose
Theres everything to go
And now I know what theyre are saying
Its a terrible beauty weve made
So we make our love on? wasteland
And through the barricades
Now I know what theyre are saying
As hearts go to their graves
We made our love on? wasteland
And through the barricades.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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"Ole" Baugh Road
Round Ole Baugh Road its a great place kids to grow
Some grow up and move away
Most of us decide to stay
Round the oleBaugh Road
Hard working mom and dad
Gve us things that they never had
I our corner of the world
Romance is slow for the boys and girls
Round the ole Baugh Road
The neighborhood still looks the same
just new kids with the same old names
My Baugh Roads in a southern state
Yours may be anywhere, USA
Look around ole Baugh Road.
I see the kids on Ole Baugh Road
I see the glory of the future glow
Look to the Heavens and give a shout
Like my daddy did when he started out.
Round, round, round the ole Baugh Road,
Round, round, round,
Round, round, round
Round, round, round,
The OleBaugh Road
Round, round, round,
Round, round, round...
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seven Bridges Road
There are stars in the Southern sky
Southward as you go
There is moonlight and moss in the trees
Down the Seven Bridges Road
I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
Sometimes there is a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the Seven Bridges Road
There are stars in the Southern sky
And if ever you decide you should go
There is a taste of time sweet as honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road
There are stars in the Southern sky
Southward as you go
There is moonlight and moss in the trees
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Down the Seven Bridges Road
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 2)
A few days later,
the newspapers tell the story
of a young woman found on the beach.
She had been strangled,
that is all the police would say.
There were no photographs;
the family had to be informed.
Sadness filled him.
Who was this girl whose death he saw?
The question bothered him.
What kind of eyes was he given?
Where did they come from?
Who was the previous owner of these eyes?
Days followed days,
his restlessness grew.
He had to know the answer,
of whose eyes he had.
Through the years, he had saved
a little bit of money here and there.
Maybe if he hired someone.
He could get the answers that he sought.
He paced around the flat,
desperately trying to think,
what he must do.
He must get some fresh air.
In the streets he wandered aimlessly,
faces became just a blur.
Suddenly he stopped,
and took a second glance.
It was the young woman
he had seen being murdered.
She was standing waiting
in the queue for a bus.
He had to speak to her,
warn her of her pending fate.
He tried to get across the road.
A bus stopped at the queue.
When he finally managed to cross,
the bus had driven off,
and the young woman was gone.
To be continued…….
poem by David Harris
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