Andrew Mcauley
He is out there with Nature his is a watery grave
The man who loved adventure but he was truly brave
His kayak was found capsized just out of Milford Sound
A day or two and he would be with family and friends and safe on solid ground.
Andrew Mcauley the Australian adventurer was so close to history
To be the first to kayak from Tasmania to New Zealand across the Pacific sea
He was a brave adventurer one who lived without fear
And he must have known to history that he was very near.
He did not make it to land this time luck not on his side
But he was a true adventurer and on his greatest adventure he died
He went so close to history till things for him went wrong
And amongst the great adventurers he surely does belong.
Somewhere in the vast Pacific his last remains now lay
And he did not live as many do for to grow old and gray
Dear Lady Luck ran out on him in his greatest ever test
And he died in his late thirties doing what he liked doing best.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Related quotes
Soul Rebel
[Bob Marley]
I'm a rebel, soul rebel
I'm a capturer, soul adventurer
I'm a rebel, soul rebel
I'm a capturer, soul adventurer
See the morning sun (ah-ah-ah-ah-ah) on the hillside (ooh)
Not living good, yeah! - travel wide,
Said, I'm a living man (ah-ah-ah-ah-ah); I've got work to do (ooh)
If you're not happy, children, then you must be blue
(must be blue, must be blue) people say:
People say:
I'm a rebel, let them talk;
Soul rebel: talk won't bother me.
I'm a capturer, that's what they say;
(Soul adventurer) Night and day
(I'm a rebel) I'm a rebel: soul rebel!
Do you hear them, Lippy?
(I'm a capturer) Gossip around the corner;
(Soul adventurer) How they adventure on me, y'all.
But see the morning sun (ah-ah-ah-ah-ah) on the hill side (ooh);
Not living good, travel wide,
Said, I'm a living man (ah-ah-ah-ah-ah);
I've got work to do
(ooh-ooh; must be blue, must be blue, must be blue).
If you're not happy,
You must be blue.
I'm a rebel (ooh-ooh):
Soul rebel;
I'm a capturer (ooh-ooh):
soul adventurer. Do you hear me?
I'm a rebel, rebel in the morning;
(soul rebel) rebel at midday time.
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adventurer
Youre an adventurer
You sail across the oceans
You climb the himalayas
Seeking truth and beauty as a natural state
Youre a queen reborn
Worshipped from above afar
Some see you as an elixir
An elemental natural seeking perfect grace
In a catacomb
Or cave of endless drawings
Prehistoric or religious
Your accomplishments prodigious
Seeking out the perfect tone
Your language so clear
Your voice perfectly turning
As in the city I sit yearning
Blowing rings of smoke from thin cigars
Or driving fast in foreign cars
To capture your remains, huh
Youre an adventurer
A turban wet wrapped round your head
On the mountainside they predict your death
Oh how you fooled them all
But subjects are a poor excuse
When what you really wants a muse
An inspirating knowledge
Of what comes before
Ooohhh, speeds of light
The momentary flicker
Of a candle in its wicker basket
Smoking wax, facts
Did you find that superior knowledge
That eluded you in college
Did you find that super vortex
That could cause your cerebral cortex
Ooohhh, to lose its grip
Youre an adventurer
You were out looking for meaning
While the rest of us were steaming
In an inspirating
Ah, urban pit
An adventurer
You enter as Im dreaming
I wish Id never wake up
Differentiating scheming from my one true love
Youre an adventurer
You love the angles and the cherries
The height and width of levies
The natural bridge and tunnels of the human race
Youre an adventurer
Nothing seem to scare you
And if it does it wont dissuade you
You just will not think about it
You dismiss it and defocus
You redefine the locus of your time in space, race
As you move further from me
And though I understand the thinking
And have often done the same thing
I find parts of me gone
Youre an adventurer
And though Ill surely miss you
And of course Ill survive without you
And maybe good will come of that
But at this point, ah
I anticipate some grieving
And although I know your leaving
Is a necessary adjunct to what we both do
An adventurer
Splitting up the atom
Splitting up the once was
Splitting up the essence of our star-crossed fate
None who meet you
Do forget you, my adventurer
My adventurer, my adventurer-venturer
My adventuress
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hidden Place
A place is hidden on the map,
May the paper adjust for the better.
You may cry, you may end this matter,
But adventure has resonance of pain
And colours of the rainbow.
Do we see our people unite with us
About the travels of the stars and planets?
The hidden adventure is about God,
Feelings cut into half are told to substances
Called elements and compounds.
But does God adjust paper of formulae
In the hope of our adventure?
Do we see God as an adventurer of mighty thoughts?
But do we see those men who do prosper?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Life Is An Adventure
Life is an adventure,
Made for an adventurer.
Made just for the boy who can,
Grow up strong and become a man.
Nothing will bother you,
You will do what you want to.
Laughes and loves and hopes and dreams,
Action will supply the means.
Living for something.
Foregiving nothing,
And youre forgiving, nothing,
Cause youre living for something.
Fast is fast, the sacred cow.
Life is in the here and now.
Got to dream and got to hope.
Broaden your horizon scope.
I told you once and I told you twice,
Japanese eat lots of rice.
You can be my assistant.
It could be to you detriment.
Ah were believing something.
Conceiving a great wealth.
Conceiving nothing
Believing in myself
Believing in myself
Life is an adventure,
Made for an adventurer.
Made just for the boy who can,
Grow up strong and become a man.
La, la, la, ...
Gordon gano: vocals, guitar
Brian ritchie: acoustic bass guitar, vocals, organ
Guy hoffman: drums, vocals
Bob jennings: tenor and baritone sax, horn arrangement
Pat basler: alto sax
Ed spangenberg: trombone
Produced by brian ritchie and gordon gano
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwaukee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Page of my History
Some laughs some tears
This is it, its what we feared
We are going our separate ways
Things getting easier by the days
You’re now a page of my history
Many days of adventure and fun
But we both know we aren’t the one
The pain eases so very slow
But it’s for the best and we know it
You’re now a page of my history
The not knowing is the mystery
But us being together is history
We will get over the misery
Even though I miss yee
You’re now a page of my history
We gave it our best shot
But it was a game we lost
Our love is lost but never gone
We will find a place to keep it safe
You’re now a page of my history
poem by Stephanie Mcgrath
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We've Not Learned From War History The Facts Never Lie
We've not learned from war history the facts never lie
For God and for Country many still fight and die
The flowers do not bloom brighter on the dead soldier's grave
As the one who died of old age and was not known to be brave.
With the words we've not learned from war history
I happen to be one of those who agree
One war leads to another it does seem to me
And we still have War Memorial day in the twenty first century.
Where there is mistrust between people hatred come to the boil
In war over borders and war over oil
And in wars over God far too many have died
To antiquated thinking many do remain tied.
Out of war and it's suffering many heroes are made
And to honour the war dead another parade
And for as long as those who glorify war do have things their own way
The flower of peace will never see light of day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told
poem by Francis Duggan
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We Need Fear For Survival
Of valour on the battlefield and in other ways we hear
But only the most foolhardy one would never know of fear
We need fear for survival may they rest in peace the brave
Their reward for their bravery the cold and darkness of the grave.
We need fear for survival the very brave are dead
And little use to them 'twould seem if good things of them are said
We need a bit of fear in us in order to stay alive
Few of the brave to a ripe old age have been known to survive.
I'd rather live to a ripe old age than have died young and brave
We need a bit of fear in us for to keep cheating the grave
Why would you even wish to die though your better days are long gone
Our will to live is always strong and it keeps us keeping on.
The fear of death is a healthy fear the brave seem to die young
Though of no use to the deceased if their praises are sung
In their graves they do never hear the bugler for them play
They lay in peace forever more that's life as some might say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Three Kinds of People
The books of my history
Begins with comedy
And end with tragedy
“Son”, do you know this
Spontaneous?
If you don’t know
Don’t mind
Your father will tell you.
There are three kinds of people
But the history knows only two
The first are foxy foxes
Who do right things and
Great good deeds
They stand at the top of history
The second are mad dogs
Who do wrong things and
Great evil deeds
They stand at the bottom of history
The third are piggy hyenas
Who are neither wise nor foolish?
Who cannot do right or wrong?
The history doesn’t know them
They have no chapter in history book
Can you choose among them for
Your inspiration and if you
Can heed my advice
The foxes are the best stars
To stick to.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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A Woman's Fancy
'Ah Madam; you've indeed come back here?
'Twas sad-your husband's so swift death,
And you away! You shouldn't have left him:
It hastened his last breath.'
'Dame, I am not the lady you think me;
I know not her, nor know her name;
I've come to lodge here-a friendless woman;
My health my only aim.'
She came; she lodged. Wherever she rambled
They held her as no other than
The lady named; and told how her husband
Had died a forsaken man.
So often did they call her thuswise
Mistakenly, by that man's name,
So much did they declare about him,
That his past form and fame
Grew on her, till she pitied his sorrow
As if she truly had been the cause-
Yea, his deserter; and came to wonder
What mould of man he was.
'Tell me my history!' would exclaim she;
'OUR history,' she said mournfully.
'But YOU know, surely, Ma'am?' they would answer,
Much in perplexity.
Curious, she crept to his grave one evening,
And a second time in the dusk of the morrow;
Then a third time, with crescent emotion
Like a bereaved wife's sorrow.
No gravestone rose by the rounded hillock;
-'I marvel why this is?' she said.
- 'He had no kindred, Ma'am, but you near.'
-She set a stone at his head.
She learnt to dream of him, and told them:
'In slumber often uprises he,
And says: 'I am joyed that, after all, Dear,
You've not deserted me!'
At length died too this kinless woman,
As he had died she had grown to crave;
And at her dying she besought them
To bury her in his grave.
Such said, she had paused; until she added:
'Call me by his name on the stone,
As I were, first to last, his dearest,
Not she who left him lone!'
And this they did. And so it became there
That, by the strength of a tender whim,
The stranger was she who bore his name there,
Not she who wedded him.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Mathematics is a vast adventure in ideas; its history reflects some of the noblest thoughts of countless generations.
Dirk Struik in A Concise History of Mathematics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living A Boys Adventure Tale
(pal waaktaar/morten harket)
Ive fixed my dwelling for the night
Lights in pairs come passing by
Where I hide
I need some time now on my own
Leave my loneliness alone
To lick my wounds
Night has found me just in time
To help me close my eyes
One more time
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale
For so many days
Im living a boys adventure tale
Cant escape, if I wanted to
Living a boys adventure tale
I may be dreaming but I feel awake
Ive been lost in so many places
Seeked love in so many faces
A change of weather,
The rain pours down
My head in hands,
Pressed to the ground
And where am I supposed to go now
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale (aah)
Living a boys adventure tale
A voice I hear
Living a boys adventure tale
Singing a lullaby for me
Living a boys adventure tale
Because of you
Living a boys adventure
Oh you know its true
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways (aah)
For so many days
I love you. I love you
So many ways
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prince Liam the Brave
Young Liam loved Orange
and liked to wear ties.
To his firehouse friends
He was one of the guys.
He had his own locker
a slicker and hat.
He also had cancer,
and a bad one at that.
From early on in his life
he fought neuroblastoma;
An invasive tumor
a metastatic carcinoma.
His family who loved him
labored to save
their dear little child
Prince Liam the Brave.
He faced surgery bravely,
engaged in his fight..
He endured radiation,
Chemo and knife.
When many a New Yorker
complains about stress,
Prince Liam was stoic
When put to the test.
Then just before Christmas
he had a relapse
He became neutrapenic-
His immune system collapsed.
With blood in his urine
And a spot on his lung
Liam grew weak.
his defenses undone.
An Amethyst stone
he received from a friend -
his talisman of hope
that he held to the end.
There are brave fire fighters
Who’ll be fighting back tears
Brave Prince Liam has died,
He lived only six years
There are many old people
still avoiding the grave
Who know less about love
Than did Liam the brave
We will gather together
In St Francis’ nave
To remember the life of
Prince Liam the brave
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Break Up The Family
The strange logic in your clumsiest line
(it stayed, it stayed) it stayed emblazoned on my mind
You say, break up the family
And lets begin to live our lives
I want to see all my friends tonight
It wasnt youth, it wasnt life
Born old, sadly wise
Resigned (well, we were)
To ending our lives
Im so glad to grow older
To move away from those awful times
I want to see all my friends tonight
Yes, you found love, but you werent
At peace with your life
Home late, full of hate
Despise the ties that bind
Im so glad to grow older
To move away from those younger years
Im in love for the first time
And I dont feel bad
Let me see all my old friends
Let me put my arms around them
Cause I really do love them
Now does that sound mad ?
Captain of games, solid framed
I stood on the touchline
Hailstones, driven home
In a car - no brakes ? I dont mind
Im so glad to grow older
To move away from those darker years
Oh, Im in love for the first time
And I dont feel bad
So wish me luck my friends
Goodbye
So wish me luck again
Goodbye
Wish me luck my friends
Goodbye
Mmm... wish me luck, my friends
Goodbye
Ahh...
Ahh...
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tye
I was once a great queen of Egypt,
Though I ‘am just a lifeless mummy now,
I was once at the heart of Egyptian life,
I became first queen of real power,
I helped shape history through my actions,
My name still lives on today,
People still carry my name after all these years,
I have become as close to immortal as any human can,
History still remembers who I was,
The Tye name lives on across the world,
People still us my name with pride,
Though I died so long ago I still live on,
Showing the world what I achieved,
I was the first woman to become an equal to men,
People respected me for my wisdom and intellect,
I paved the way for all those who followed me,
I was the first of many great queens though-out history,
I ‘am a sign of what could be achieved by one person.
poem by Christopher Tye
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From History We've Not Learned
Men crucified the one millions now worship more than two thousand years ago
Yet many men they are as cruel today and any compassion towards others they never seem to show
And the gifts of compassion and empathy to the special few belong
And many far too many seemingly cannot tell right from wrong
Two thousand and seven years ago Jesus Christ was crucified
And nailed to a timber cross on Calvary slowly and painfully he died
Yet we have not learned from human history and it does seem sad to say
That nowadays many decent people die in the foulest way,
The war supposed to end all wars did not live up to it's tag
Young people dying in war zones every day for God and Land and Flag
Before we learn the lesson of history how many more must die
War men mock the sacredness of human life and many wars based on a lie
It has been more than two thousand years since Christ died on Calvary
And from history we've not learned a thing that's how 'twould seem to be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Deer Hunting Time Is Here Again
Deer hunting time is here again
And many hunters take to the woods
After months of planning with family and friends
They gather in common brotherhood
It's a freedom that fills the soul of a man
With the peace of God's nature all around
Lessons that have been taught since time began
And lifelong memories and friendships are found
Hunting is taught by tradition still yet
Knowledge passed on from man to man
And you'll learn things that you'll never forget
And respect nature more, our wildlife, and our land
So all you hunters enjoy this time
May you be skilled and have lots of luck
May God bless you as you hunt today
And may you bag that ten point buck! !
Dedicated to my Father who enjoyed hunting with family and friends all of his life. He died of a heart attack on the opening day, while hunting with my brothers and uncles. He could not have asked for a better way to go, doing what he loved most!
poem by Kathleen West
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My Wish Is For A Perfect World
The World might well be different if religion and patriotism
died
And if mistrust and greed died with them there would be peace World wide
But with these four still prevalent what hope for harmony
And what hope for love and tolerance for all humanity.
That the clergy bless the troops for war seems hard to understand
To go and throw their lives away for religion and land
That man should kill his fellow man not written in God's will
The fifth commandment clearly state the words 'thou shalt not kill'.
Intolerance, greed and mistrust all of these go side by side
With lust for land and religion and patriotic pride
All these have given rise to wars and yet we've failed to see
The mistakes our fore fathers made nor learnt from history
I am not condemning religion in case you get me wrong
And I have great respect for those who worship God in song
But when religion lead men to war 'tis there the wrong come
in
For wars are caused by ignorance where winners cannot win.
And as for patriotism that has the strangest ring
Of the noble men who died in war the ballad maker sing
They thought it the great sacrifice to give their lives for land
But the most who lived to reap the gain never took gun in hand.
And as for greed and mistrust of those what can one say?
For human self enlightenment I hope to see the day
For all human beings have good in them or so 'twould seem that way
But some can't reach their higher self and somehow go astray
It's up to every individual to live good as they can
To make this world a better world for family of man
To learn more about tolerance and live in harmony
My wish is for a perfect world but that may never be
poem by Francis Duggan
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