Warrnambool City
In the coastal City known as Warrnambool
In the Winter you can swim in the heated swimming pool
And in Summer there's surfing and swimming and other good fun
As well as sunbathing in the lamp of the sun
Some beautiful beaches by the big coastal Town
But it is not for such Warrnambool knows of renown
But for it's friendly people on every street
Happy and smiling faces you are bound to meet
The population of Warrnambool in numbers has grown
And as a multicultural Rural City it is now well known
The Capital of south west Victoria Warrnambool by the sea
A welcoming Town for many a refugee
In it's parks and beaches Nature's beauty to behold
In a great City to live in for the young and the old.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I'd Love To Live In Warrnambool
I'd love to live in Warrnambool down by the Lady Bay
I would walk to the nearby beach in Summer every day
And walk along the shallows saltwater to my knees
And feel the coolness of the waves in the freshening ocean breeze
I'd like to live in Warrnambool at least of such I dream
But dreams seldom ever come true at least that's how 'twould seem
Old Warrnambool is a special place with a charm of it's own
As a beautiful Victorian Rural City it has become well known
Where the white waves of the Pacific by the breakwater roll
The rural City of Warrnambool is a City with a soul
Most of the people there are friendly they smile and say hello
With every visit to Warrnambool my love for the place does grow
I'd love to live in Warrnambool the City by the sea
And though there is no harm in wishing that well may never be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mid September In Warrnambool
An evening in September the weather dry though cool
And people out jogging, walking and cycling on the beach road at Warrnambool
And above the calm ocean in the west the sun going down
A mile or maybe even less from the famous sea-side Town
Of Warrnambool in Victoria it's beauty is well known
In size and population in a decade it has grown
As a major Victorian coastal City it has become known far and wide
And the people who live in the Bool in their Hometown take great pride.
On late Winter and early Spring off of Logan's beach the Southern Right whales come to breed
And to watch these marine giants with their huge babies is an amazing sight indeed
For Warrnambool a major tourist attraction and quite an amazing sight
To watch them breaching for air in the warm Spring sunlight.
Mid September in Warrnambool a lovely time of year
When in the coastal City one can sense Utopia near
The people are so friendly most of them say hello
A pleasant place to visit and a pleasant place to know.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Warrnambool In January
Tis warm in the full sun but in the shade tis cool
And the magpies and the mudlarks are singing in the City of Warrnambool
Their music in the Summer air where the cars buzz up and down
On Lava Street in the heart of the busy seaside Town.
A pleasant day in January a high of twenty nine degrees
And there is a nice sort of coolness in the freshening coastal breeze
And the magpies and the mudlarks pipe their distinctive melodies
Near where the traffic it is buzzing on the sunlit street trees.
In Warrnambool in January in the holiday time of year
The accents of different races in the shopping malls one does hear
Quite a nice City to visit if you are driving that way
So many people there do smile at you and bid you a good day.
An old rural City in Victoria in the coastal countryside
The famed City of Warrnambool it is known far and wide
The magpies they are fluting and the mudlarks sing pee wee
And the Summer sun is shining on the City by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In Often Very Windy Warrnambool
In Warrnambool another gusty day
A freshening wind blow up from Lady Bay
Through the coastal City bathed in sunshine
Where the pale eyed crows caw on the norfolk pine
In old Warrnambool there's many a wind burnt face
It is indeed a very windy place
O'er Warrnambool the Goddess of the Wind blows in the sky
To the coastal City she must live nearby
The weather it is mostly warm to cool
In often very windy Warrnambool
Where the residents for their hospitality are well known
The natives there have a charm of their own
Where dead leaves on the sidewalks are blown up and down
By the curling winds that blow in the big Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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No Southern Right Whales
No southern right whales at Warrnambool last year
Due to oil exploration near Logan's Beach we hear
For to give birth the females went elsewhere
At Logan's Beach for them too noisy there.
Whether or not they do return next Spring
To Warrnambool when the nesting birds do sing
Or will they swim by Warrnambool and not decide to stay
Time can only tell as some are known to say.
For to give birth they need a quiet place
For to insure the survival of their dwindling race
Where they and their young can stay for a month or more
Where human beings for oil do not explore.
Will southern right whales give birth at Warrnambool again
Or will Warrnambool's loss be another coastal town's gain?
Breaching whale mothers and their calves an amazing sight to see
And of such I retain the memory.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Tommy Carty The Musician
Tommy Carty the musician a marvel of guitar
From his Homecity of Dublin he is living far
In South West Victoria in the City Of Warrnambool
One honoured as a Legend of the Koroit Lake School.
Not into self promotion of such he seems shy
But true talent of him one could never deny
His music says more of him than words can say
One of the best living guitarists of today.
In a Human World of self promotion and so much self conceit
One as humble as he is such a pleasure to meet
Yet when it comes to playing of guitar few with him to compare
The Tommy Cartys of this World to say the least rare.
Amongst the musicians of South West Victoria one famed and well known
One might say of him in a class of his own
So self effacing and down to earth in his own humble way
The masterful guitarist he just loves to play.
In South West Victoria a legendary name
Yet his is far greater than a local fame
The high standard of guitar playing he sets for himself he does attain
And Dublin's loss is surely Warrnambool's gain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Great Merri River
Through the old brown paddocks it flows night and day
The great Merri river from here far away
Through the coastal lands of Warrnambool on it's way to the sea
Older than the age of the Dinosaurs it pre-dates history.
It has flowed for millions of centuries of time
The river that has inspired story and rhyme
In Nature's four Seasons Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
Through old coastal lands where the brown bushlark sing.
The great Merri river will flow forever more
To Warrnambool on to the Pacific shore
From it's dark deep pools the sea trout jump for fly
It has flowed through all Seasons and weather warm and dry.
In the long gone Dreamtime in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous people danced their corroborees
On the banks of the Merri in a corroboree ring
By the river they loved as they danced they did sing.
They had lived here for centuries before Europeans came
And for their beloved river they had their own name
The river known to all as the Merri of today
On towards the Pacific it babbles it's way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Archie Roach, Ruby Hunter and Shane Howard
He is as near to his old home in Framlingham as he might wish to be
In Killarney between Warrnambool and Port Fairy by the Pacific sea
With the renowned Ruby Hunter his long time soul mate
The legendary Archie Roach an Aussie music great.
Their neighbour and friend is Shane Howard the singer songwriter supreme
Those three together what a musical team
Together great music and songs they will compose
Great talents are born to be great one would have to suppose.
They do not come any greater it does seem to me
Than Archie Roach, Ruby Hunter and Shane Howard old Killarney's big three
For their talents and achievements them one can only admire
And to even greater things each other they will inspire.
Between Warrnambool City and Port Fairy Town
In Beautiful Killarney of scenic renown
Live three Australian entertainers each in their own right a great name
As singer songwriters they enjoy Worldwide fame.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Koroit's 09 Football Premiership
They celebrate in the Commercial and Mickey Bourke's pub
The marvellous win of Koroit Saints Football Club
The Warrnambool Blues the pride of Warrnambool Town
In the Football Grand Final to the red and black went down
To the memory of such a victory Koroit fans will cling dear
They will celebrate well into next year
The Grand Final win to the Town has brought cheer
They do celebrate there in spirits and beer
From shop and house windows red and black balloons and bunters in the wind blow
Their great love of Koroit all koroitians do show
And well do they have reason to celebrate
Their present footballers with Koroit's best do rate
Their 09 Premiership for them a huge victory
Something that is destined to live in memory.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Festival Port Fairy Town
In the music World it is a place of renown
For it's huge annual musical festival Port Fairy Town
And for it's coastal beauty it is also well known
One might say it does have a charm of it's own
A gem of Victoria's coastal south west
Where the muttonbirds in Spring come to mate and nest
On Griffith Island by the Pacific sea
In an Earthly Utopia it does seem to me
Port fairy is known as a touristy place
Though life is lived there at a leisurely pace
The locals there friendly as friendly can be
I've never met anyone there rude to me
And though homes to buy it does seem are much cheaper elsewhere
If I had plenty money I would like to live there.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Return Of The Curlews
At Mcloughlins beach in the Spring of the year
The beautiful flute of the curlews one hear
The eastern curlews they sing as they fly
Their music echo through Gippsland's coastal sky
From the colder northlands they journey on down
Above coastal City and Village and Town
Above beaches and foreshores in September they reach
The mudflats on the foreshore of Mcloughlins beach,
In fancy i can hear them fluting today
Above the white mudflats from here far away
The wild voice of Nature is a beautiful thing
The eastern curlews how lovely they sing
Their unmistakeable song in my memory remain
And in fancy i visit South Gippsland again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Hopkins River
Centuries before the black people to this Land came
An unknown Country that did not have a name
The river now known as the Hopkins through the scrublands did flow
And that is going back many centuries ago.
The dinosaurs came at the twilight of the day
For to slake their thirst at the quiet water-way
And though the dinosaurs from the World are forever gone
The old Hopkins river keeps babbling on.
Through the flat brown Countryside to Warrnambool to the sea
The Hopkins has flowed for century on century
Through places dry and stony and places remote
The river has inspired the artist and poet.
For to sketch and sing of it in decades gone by
The river that has never stopped flowing through Summer's warm and dry
And though the artist and poet now with the deceased lay
The Hopkins keeps babbling on night after day.
Through places dry and stony and places remote and brown
On down to the ocean near Warrnambool Town
And the Seasons may come and the Seasons may go
But the old Hopkins river forever will flow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The 2010 Port Fairy Music Festival
We are another year older and time is ticking on
And another Music Festival at Port Fairy has come and has gone
Great entertainment for young and for old and for those in their life's prime
And everyone there seemed to have a good time.
In the 2010 Port Fairy Festival some heavy showers of rain
And after an hour the sun shone out again
But this did not dampen the good fun and cheer
Of the Festival with such a great atmosphere.
In port Fairy close to the great City of Warrnambool
The weather it is mostly warm to cool
It is held on the Labor Day Weekend of the Fall
Where a good time is generally had by all.
It brings to people from far and near such great happiness
The 2010 Port Fairy Music Festival another great success
There's music in the festival arenas and music on the street
Where once a year lovers of music do meet.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If I Should Farewell Old Wonthaggi
If I should farewell old Wonthaggi I'll miss people that I know there
I'll miss Georgie Waters and Stella Hitchins good people like them are quite rare
And Jessica Harrison and Julie Tyrell and Jack Iversen the unsung hero of old Loch Street
One who would go out of his way for to help you people like him one always don't meet.
If I should farewell old Wonthaggi as the wanderlust is still in me
I'll miss the volcanic cliffs of Kilcunda from where one can look out on the sea
And I'll miss the hills of Archies Creek that in Summer and Autumn look brown
Those old hills one can see on clear days from the streets of Wonthaggi Town.
I'll miss Inverloch and Cape Paterson pollution and factory free
I love these old quiet coastal places they will live in my memory
And the Village of Harmers Haven Utopia on Earth it does seem
A place where one could grow old and be happy if of the quiet life one does dream.
If I should farewell old Wonthaggi I'll miss the few friends I had there
The wanderlust is stirring in me and my future I feel is elsewhere
But I will miss the coastal Countryside that surround the old coal mining Town
Of Wonthaggi in coastal South Gippsland that is no stranger to renown
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Merri In Flood
The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Port Fairy By The Sea
For culture and hospitality it has won renown
Port Fairy by the ocean a famous old Town
To it's famous music festival that is held once a year
People from all Nations they come from far and near
Those who visit there for a seaside holiday
Of beautiful Port fairy have only nice things to say
The locals so friendly, warm and free of care
And with coastal views where beauty has never been rare
Nature's coastal beauty is everywhere to see
In beautiful Port Fairy where the land meets the sea
Most of the people who live there are hospitable and kind
As near a place to an Earthly Utopia as one would wish to find
With no signs of pollution in the clear ocean sky
And the oystercatchers above the beach sing as they fly
poem by Francis Duggan
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My City, My Town
My city, my town
The day u were birthed
No one regretted
My City
The glory of both the young and old
a site for everyone to behold
My city
A place of great edifices
a town with wonderful places
Four and two-legged machines
Fills this land unconditionally
A place of constant influx
Beautiful lush green grass
Filled the lawns at every corner
Bridges everywhere
as long as monumental caterpillars
Masts of every network
as tall as the Eiffel Tower of Paris,
A total amazement..
My city,
A beauty to uphold,
Now a story yet untold
My city, oh my town
You are losing your luster,
colour and radiance
That made humans of all race
want to advance, to seek solace
My city, My town
The land that brought memories
of neighborliness,
Everyone, together as of same parents
Awake from your slumber
Oh my great city, 'The Garden-City'
The crown princess of Rivers state
Why do you constantly hibernate?
Wake up
My city, my town,
Be like David,
Defeat this Goliath called GREED!
Show your feat
and make this enemy face the heat.
Edwina Aleme, (c) 2009
poem by Edwina Aleme
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Whenever I'm In Swanston Street
So many different peoples of every different race
Whenever I'm in Swanston street I long for a quieter place
Far from the World of bustle and the noisy city street
Out there in the quiet countryside where the rill and river meet.
Whenever I'm is Swanston street I cannot feel at ease
I smell smog and pollution in the foul city breeze
The sidewalks crowded with people as they bustle to and fro
But each to their own as some might say and it happens to be so.
I am not a city type of person that sort of lifestyle would not suit me
I love the coastal countryside and the cliffs that overlook the sea
To watch the fishing gannets plunge down from a great height
With folded wings into saltwater a most amazing sight.
The city scene or city ways I never could embrace
And whenever I'm in Swanston street I feel so out of place
Many people love the city life each to their own rings true
But I'd prefer the quieter place the home of the wild roo.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Tale of Three Cities
New York blasted London blasted
Singapore -
Ripped off each other's metaphoric balls,
Crumbling walls.
Priapic city monoliths -
Blue-sky scraping bastards -
Shout about their height (but really length) .
V8 arseholes didn't care -
Pumping shit into the air,
So long as they were always there to
Fart aloud a smoggy cloud,
Laughing at the weak asthmatic,
Humoured that it seems traumatic.
Watch the greedy cities oozing
Chair-bound fat committees, though they
Look a bunch of titties as they
Waffle on about the pound.
Ever thought to look around and see
That they were dead?
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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