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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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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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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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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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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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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City Of Beggars
The sky is always blue in the city of beggars
There is not much green in the city of beggars
There are buildings being built so fast in the city of beggars
In every corner that you encounter
The city of beggars are growing so fast
And in the city of beggars lives 30 million people
The air is not that good in the city of beggars
Because of the factories and the cars
The city of beggars never sleep
The noise goes on 24 hours a day
It is not safe to walk in the street of beggars
Because you can get robbed and killed at any time of the night or day
The traffic is chaotic in the city of beggars
Thanks God there is no snow in the city of beggars
poem by Aldo Kraas
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High In The City
I got the time, I got my feet
Lets go hit the street
High in the city
High in the city
I got my mace and you got your knife
You gotta protect your own life
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive here in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
Lets not walk down sutton place
You know everybody there got an akitas
High in the city
High in the city
Dont wanna talk politics today
I feel too good let me have my way
High in the city
High in the city
Watch out for that guy on your right
Seen him on the news last saturday night
He was high in the city
High in the city
Hey, look theyre setting fire to that jeep
Theres not much you can keep
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
So many people feeling low
And theres only one way to go to
Get high in the city
High in the city
Lets grap a pie, lets hit the park
Ill kiss and hug you till it gets dark
Here in the city
Getting high in the city
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eternal Kansas City
Chorus (choir singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city)?
(van singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Train down to st. louis
Get me there alright
Over to the city there, you know that one
Where the farmers daughter digs the farmers son
Dig your charlie parker
Basie and young
Witherspoon and jay mcshann
They will come
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Lady liberty in waiting
You know she lights the way
Her name is billie, shes a holiday
And the city is eternal -- hey, cant you see?
Its inside of you and its inside of me
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city ?
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Wild thing
You know the way to kansas city (choir only)
Thank you man (van)
You know the way to kansas city
Sing it (van)
You know the way to kansas city (van and choir)
Hit it (van)
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Baby cant you sing it one time (van)
(choir)
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh To Be Out In The Country
A hot day in the city and scarce a puff of breeze
Oh to be out in the country in the cool shade of the trees
In the shadow of the wattles leafing through a favourite book
Listening to the coot and black duck calling in the quiet brook.
Oh to be out in the country on this sunny Summer's day
In the hills above Wonthaggi more than eighty miles away
In the shadow of the gum trees many miles from city street
Stretched and resting on the fog grass sheltering from the mid day heat.
I feel tired of city living city life's a hard old slog
And I am sick of man's pollution sick of breathing smoke and smog
Oh to be out in the country by a creek enjoying a beer
In a World free of pollution many miles away from here.
A hot day in the city near thirty five degrees
Oh to be out in the country in the cool shade of the trees
In the shadow of the gum trees many miles from city street
Stretched and resting on the fog grass sheltering from the mid day heat.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Of Worcester
Worcester, the city of noise,
Walking along these city streets,
Seeing people busy,
pacing,
Cracked city walks,
Aged city houses,
Beautiful city air, '
Never seems to be a minute to spare,
As cars stream along,
Cops and fire trucks pass down my street.
Loud children playing in the streets.
As I walk down the street of mine,
I hear parents yelling at their children.
Dogs barking as you walk by,
Houses that are old and crusty,
Men and women fighting.
This right here is the city I was born in.
The City Of Worcester!
poem by Cassandra Prew
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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
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Written At Broadbeach Queensland
The noisy miners chirp in sunburnt parkway by the sea
And lorikeets are noising as they fly from tree to tree
The scaly breasted and the rainbow keets from gum to sheoak fly
A blaze of dazzling colours for to captivate the eye.
The magpies pipe their sweetest notes just as the sun go down
And freshening sea breeze cool the air in humid Queensland Town
This is the nicest time of day a cool pacific breeze
And sun retire at close of day to songbird melodies.
Sun bathers in their beach wear through parkway make their way
Their bodies bronzed from lying on beach for hours on end each day
Sun lovers flock to Queensland the cruel sun they don't fear
They sun bathe on the Gold Coast the twelve months of the year.
An evening in October the second month of Spring
The miners and the magpies in Broadbeach parkland sing
And lorikeets are chirping on gum and sheoak trees
And People walk home from the beach in freshening evening breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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City Man You'd Best Go Back To Town
City man you'd best go back to town
If living in the country gets you down
And though the songbirds sing with voices sweet
You'd much prefer the noisy city street.
These rural towns are quiet as quiet can be
There's so little to do and less to see
Save go into a pub and drink your fill
And come out feeling much more lonely still.
Pleasant is the music of the thrushes
And fragrant is the scent of flowering bushes
Here the air is pure and free of taint
But you would rather live midst smoke and paint.
City man you miss your city kin
You've little in common with rural men,
You've little love for peaceful country life,
You'd much prefer to live where noise is rife.
You are like a fisherman ashore
He find inland life is quite a bore
Unhappy the poor fisherman will be
Until he returns to his beloved sea.
City man the city's calling you
Go bid the lonely countryside adieu,
Your urge for city living's always strong
It is where a man is raised that he belong.
City man go back to your own kind
And leave this sense of loneliness behind
Country life it isn't to your taste
Go back home to the city in a haste.
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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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 Big City Type
I woke up in a big city apartment
Rode to a big city job
On a big city subway
With hip, big city people
Worked at a big city job
In a big city skyscraper
Stood in a big city line
For lunch, heard big city jazz
On a big city radio station
It was like a big city scene
In a big budget movie
When I realized I had become
The big city type
I always wanted to be
Yet I was still me
poem by Adam Artois
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Mumbai
They call it a city that never sleeps,
Dreams at large; everything in heaps
Buzzing all the time, different people different cons,
It got its roses and it got its thorns.
City of murmuring traffic and twinkling cars
The multi-millionaires, the movie stars.
We’ve got it all;
The vada-pav and the dance bars,
Crowded local trains, almost on time,
Spirit of its passengers always sublime
City where honesty is rewarded,
But bravery is crime.
Success and failure are in twilight,
City where changes happen overnight
You might be swept if caught off sight,
Got lucky, then you be on a flight
Multi-lingual, multi-religious,
City of unusual weather,
I wouldn’t be wrong; if I say,
It’s a city where country comes together,
Every city has its ups and downs and she is no different.
She gives me an identity and makes me proud.
City where I was born and city where I want to die,
My city! My Mumbai
poem by Fahim Sayed
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While in Goa!
Coming to you Oh! city of beaches
Ever nice your plesaure when someone reaches
Everyone dreams of the times to visit
A journey off the sun into a cool spirit
Pleasing is your weather which calmness teaches
Coming to you Oh! city of beaches
Ever nice your plesaure when someone reaches
Breeze of the coconut trees within a mile
The sea has an instinct of sudden smile
Healing of the shore offers gathering of riches
Coming to you Oh! city of beaches
Ever nice your plesaure when someone reaches
poem by by unknown author
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