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March 26, 2021

They Did It Down In Freo

They Did It Down In Freo

They did it down in “Freo”,
They polished up the town,
Upped the rates on business
And closed a whole lot down.
Set the pace at a frantic rate
And milled the traffic round.

They could do what they did in “Freo”
If no-one makes a sound:
Up the rates on vignerons
And make the trucks go round.

They’ll not shift the fishing boats
And the trucks won’t go around.

Cease the incessant chatter
Of harvesters all night,
Stop the tractors’ diesel rattle
And flashing yellow lights,
Reduce the risk of spraying mist;
Simply bulldoze the vines.

They could do what they did in “Freo”
If no-one makes a sound.


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March 26, 2021

Industry On The Swan

Industry On The Swan

There’s backyards in the valley
Right on the southern end
And the shire dump all their product
For road making and such.
There’s a steady stream of traffic
Carting to and fro and the rigs are getting bigger
Thanks to Charlton, Court and correct.

Now they’ve planned a new schoolhouse
‘Tween the mill and brickyard lights
And you should see the line up
At 9am to 3 each night.
There’s Volvos and Mercedes and every make between
With carry cots and safety seats.
And baby sleeping signs
As they vie for position with no passing lane,
Depositing their older kids, dodging north and south road train,
Dodging tippers carting clay in,
Dodging brick trucks heading out
And the shire joins the antics carting tar and stone about
And up and down the valley there’s black marks on the road
Where the housewife or the farmers tangled with a heavy load.

And you’ll hear the hiss of air brakes and the klaxon horns command
As he drops down half a dozen gears and directs the rig around.

This process is repeated throughout the valley drive
And it’s a credit to the drivers there’s not some loss of life.

It’s great to see light industry flourishing on the Swan;
Great to be part of it involved here on the Swan.


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March 12, 2021

Tracking Back

Tracking Back

There’s bits left by the roadside,
Little bits left as I go,
Markers for me coming back,
Markers spaced around the run.

Tracks criss-cross,
Time for none.
Brilliant bits glare in the sun,
Blazing torches as night falls,
Flare paths forging
All points north.

Long lost ranges,
Longer stares.
Bits torn off,
Rack back there.

Jigsaw markers carefully retrieved,
Patching pieces on a tear,
Tracking back;
Soon be there.

👍 jt

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John’s novel “The Ute” is now physical

the ute novel physical copy
> Available from Lulu.com in Paperback (pictured) for AU$24.99
> Now available at Lulu.com (Digital ePUB version) for AU$3.50
> Also available on iTunes and Barnes & Noble book stores.
> 1st edition of “The Ute” (34pp shorter) still available on Kindle (Kindle)
> For our US friends, A “ute” is a utility vehicle; a pickup truck.
JT on Facebook

Paperback Electronic
Weight 0.41kg 0kg
Pages 238pp big writing 2000pp
Dimensions (cm) 14.81 x 20.98 4 dimensional


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March 5, 2021

Time out on the Swan

Time out on the Swan

They had a vision splendid to work out on the Swan,
Encouraging development in art and wine and song.
Some bought their dream, some scraped and saved,
Others just moved on,
Cashing in their properties out there on the Swan.

They had a vision splendid requiring office space
To house more office jockeys – help regulate their pace.
They have their vision splendid, sat in the Swan shire tower
Purple circle motions insidious brown shirt power,
Vision splendid on the frontline, some upped stumps and left the Swan,
Changing seasons, cultures dictate time out on the Swan.

👍 jt

Enter your email address and get a Poet Down Under poem sent directly to your inbox each Friday

Delivered by Google’s FeedBurner


John’s novel “The Ute” is now physical

the ute novel physical copy
> Available from Lulu.com in Paperback (pictured) for AU$24.99
> Now available at Lulu.com (Digital ePUB version) for AU$3.50
> Also available on iTunes and Barnes & Noble book stores.
> 1st edition of “The Ute” (34pp shorter) still available on Kindle (Kindle)
> For our US friends, A “ute” is a utility vehicle; a pickup truck.
JT on Facebook

Paperback Electronic
Weight 0.41kg 0kg
Pages 238pp big writing 2000pp
Dimensions (cm) 14.81 x 20.98 4 dimensional


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February 25, 2021

You’re in the Country

You’re in the Country

When tractor trailer units
Are novelties to comment on,
Once piled high with produce
Delivering round the Swan,

When one fifth acre holdings
Are the norm and creeping on,
And the red loam fertile valley
Grows brick condominions,

When industry is hemmed in
By creeping urbania,
Permits and grants are nothing
Against a politician’s likes,

Build up a comfy buffer zone
Round your winery or truck
To hedge against new neighbours;
My friend, I wish you luck.

Rates levied will rock you
And they’ll increase every half
As one fifth acre properties
Encroach closer every year,

And you’ll look ever despondently
At prices from your crop
And finally flog off your hedge
Against the other lot

Which lobs you in suburbia:
No spray mist or cattle yards;
Wine comes in by courier –
No space for vines or truck.

Talk about spray mist
Before talking of sub- divide,
About wineries and tractors,
About glaring arc lights.

Mention there’ll be cattle
Worked in those rustic yards
And the soft low
Turns to bawling
As they’re hot brand and ear marked.

Disregard the four-lane highway
And fast commuter train:
You’re out here in the country
And agriculture hasn’t changed.

👍 jt


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January 21, 2020

Season’s Plying By

Season’s Plying By

There’s blokes been out there shearin’,
share croppin’ and the like
and they’ve worked their way up slowly
to a different way of life.

A way they dreamed n worked for
an acreage they’d own
along of course with bankers,
stock agents wheelin’ by.

There’s blokes been out there workin’
with wives n kids on side,
workin’ along steady
as seasons slowly ply.

Seasons cross the ages
as seasons ply their course,
hot n dry and flooded.
Parchment landscape marks the course.

There’s blokes been out there workin’,
hard at it on their block,
clearin’ land n seedin’.
Bit o shearin’, still of course.

There’s blokes still out there working
with wives n kids n crew,
other cultures mounting.

Banks changing out their course
as agents pay attention.
‘Gainst seasons plyin’ by.
Blokes’re out their shearin’.
Still out there for a try.

👍 jt


JT’s novel “The Ute” is now physical
the ute novel physical copy
> Available from Lulu.com in Paperback (pictured) for AU$24.99
> Now available at Lulu.com (Digital ePUB version) for AU$3.50
> Also available on iTunes and Barnes & Noble book stores.
> 1st edition of “The Ute” (34pp shorter) still available on Kindle (Kindle)
JT on Facebook

Paperback Electronic
Weight 0.41kg 0kg
Pages 238pp big writing 2000pp
Dimensions (cm) 14.81 x 20.98 4 dimensional


No Comments

December 26, 2019

Freight

Freight

Before air was conditioned
Not that long ago
Truckin’ traffic dodged along
quietley with the flow.

Dollying on, cross plain and range,
gibber flats distant
in shimmering haze.

Contending with problems,
roads constant attack.
Wheel bearings, brake shoes,
rocker boxes, spring packs,
juddering along
copping flack
from the track

There’s a rail head waiting
in weekend repose.
Platforms deserted,
goods shed door slid closed.

Rakes of wagons on spur
lines waiting to go.
Trucks homin’ in on Mondays rail yard,
rail staff shunt out wagons
to unload and reload.

And labourers sweat freely,
man handling loose freight,
swingin’ crank handles,
craned weights dangle in space.

Late afternoon breeze
kicks quietly in.
Railway Pub bar
beckons within.

As the town eases back on another long day,
dust n scrap paper swirl cross the rail yard.
Platforms deserted,
goods shed doors slid closed.

Happy Christmas
👍 jt


JT’s novel “The Ute” is now physical
the ute novel physical copy
> Available from Lulu.com in Paperback (pictured) for AU$24.99
> Now available at Lulu.com (Digital ePUB version) for AU$3.50
> Also available on iTunes and Barnes & Noble book stores.
> 1st edition of “The Ute” (34pp shorter) still available on Kindle (Kindle)
JT on Facebook

Paperback Electronic
Weight 0.41kg 0kg
Pages 238pp big writing 2000pp
Dimensions (cm) 14.81 x 20.98 4 dimensional


No Comments

June 2, 2017

The Shearer

“ The Shearer ”

Listen to JT recite his poem …

He won’t push back the bat wings
On a catchin’ pen no more
Flick rivers of sweat from his brow
As he yanks the hand-piece chord

And the bottle he drank at cut-out
Will never taste the same no more
Cos he’s opted for the haul-pack
And ‘dozer on the mine
Working day or night shift
And he’s lost the rhythm of time

An air-conditioned coach cruise
Out to work and back
Doesn’t hold a candle
To a shearer’s truck on track
Rushin’ sandy crossings
Shovin’ pushin’ back and fillin’
Another shed next week.

He won’t push back the bat wings
On a catchin’ pen no more
But I’ll bet he’ll sit and reminisce
Of all the sheep he’d shore
Of ev’ry track he travel’d
As he rove from shed to shed
Of every yarn was ever ‘ad
Round every cut-out keg

John Taylor’s novel, “The Ute” – now under $5

the ute book by john taylor now available at Lulu.com


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March 2, 2015 ,

Slap and Tickle

Slap and Tickle’s carting super,
Slap and Tickle’s carting grain
Launching, loaded off a gravel
ridge at Erragula plain.

Heading for the highway,
bins a good way off,
sou-wester kicking gently in,
following road trains.

Silos rearing skywards,
bull pen line-ups chock-a-block.
White caps tumble endlessly,
grain ships anchored off.

Road trains inching slowly,
Grain receival gratings flow,
grids bared, polished silver
as trailers unload and go.

Tip bins joggle on their mounts.
Heading back, back further out.
Nest of field bins, chasers race,
‘longside headers pouring grain.

Slap and Tickle’s loaded
Roll tarps firmly clipped in place.
Off she roars
back in the race

Slap and Tickle had a refit,
Engines done a million K
the chassis and cross members
showed a bit of pain.

Sand blast and a paint job,
tensioned up against the strain,
Slap and Tickle back-loads super
with each load of golden grain.

If you like my poems . . .

The Ute by john taylor
Consider buyin’ my yarn “The Ute”
Less than 5 bucks for Kindle.

Check it out on Amazon Kindle.


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February 2, 2015

They Will Go Forever

They will go forever
Following the line
On and on wherever
Load ‘er up and try
Rivers running bankers,
cross mountains as they fly.
Down a range on bull dust flats.
Hours and days crawl by.
Lost out in the loneliness
Of guide post silent nights
Welcome morning star appears,
heralding first light.

They will go forever
Following the line.


1 Comment

January 26, 2015 ,

Hanging Around

Hanging round a truck yard,
waiting on a load.
Moonlight beaming gently.
Seasons ebb and flow.

Gleaming chrome and Alloy
bull bars in the night.
Polished rims and shiny studs
holding them on tight.

Ice packs diesel chatter.
Welcomes in the night,
Comfort in the knowing,
mozzies held back tonight.

A coupla cans you’d reckon,
Bit of time to think.
A couple more till nothing matters,
just get off and sleep.

Start up on the morrow,
Shaking musky heads
Just get up and into it.
Thinking up ahead.

Hanging round a truck yard,
coming on daylight,
People moving, doing,
getting on with life.

Following the roadway, following the life.
Upfront oñ the business,
Busy business life.

Hooking in, trailers swing,
Had a taste last night, ice paks Working wonderfully.
Pull up, what’s left the night.


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November 17, 2014

Livin’ the Dream

Hobbled down
Shuffflin’ in
From way out back
Where we begin

Siftin’ through the wheat from chaff.
Steady Steady, establishing.

Hobbled down, guided in.
Long wings in sight.

Hidden ‘mongst fluoro lights ‘n’ boom access, denying rights.
Herding onwards day n night, in fluoro
Garb, toward the wing.

Hidden ‘mongst clip board staff.
JSA’s and OC health stuff
That never ever mounts to much,
in apart from taking up our day

in tickin’ boxes,
linin’ up from aeroplanes
to gettin’ grub ‘n’ don’t forget

we’ve fly buy points that take us further in our quest
experiencing much more than the rest,
in this scramble where we live ‘n’ work,
if call it live ‘n’ work’s where we’re at.

Tickin’ boxes n OC health
stuff ‘n’ smorgasboards ‘n’ linin’ up.
Three more sleeps,
I’m pissin’ off,
back to reality.

Which when I reckon lining up
in dreams ‘n’ schemes
‘n’ could’a been
‘n’ fly buy points
‘n’ distant dreams.
And my how time goes
flying by with
fly buy points
spent ‘fore you fly

and JSA’s a way of life,
boom gates recording day to day
still in the wing we trudge away,
never quite gettin’ gettaway

from fluoro lights
‘n’ OC health stuff
‘n’ guide lines drawn indelibly
of how your life’s planned out to be.

Workin’ slowly long the wing
of life’s best practice as they see.
By those in charge of would’a be!
We’re now hard up upon the wing,
sludging on
in this old dream
of live ‘n’ work,

if live ‘n’ work is what it’s at.
Out on the mine

“livin’ the dream”


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September 8, 2014

Camped Up

Goin’ along
Slowin’ down

Bit of tucker, takin’ its toll.
Early starts workin’, slowly its way,
slowin’ down properly comin’ midday.

Chasing that slowly swirling black spot.
Mind’s eye following the 3D plot.
Droppin’ below a level in space, needing a spell.
Under a shade, on a dry shingle creek.

Lost for a while.

Chasing that spot, swirling round slowly, deep in my mind.
Out to it properly, half hour respite.
Back up in a moment refreshed for the night,
heading on out, alert, Gaining pace.


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July 28, 2014

Muir

Muir’s in limp mode
Draggin’ behind
Steam hammer taps slowly,
back of his mind.

Waiting on thoughts,
stacked up in his head.
Sorting out slowly
to forge on ahead.

Clearing his mind
out clearing his shed.
Stacking coal bins
heaped near the forge.

Close handy shovel
to feed on some more.
Coals flarin’ softly,
steel heats and glows,
golden sparks arc
as bellows blow.

Steam hammer’s cranking,
flails out a beat.
The blacksmith quick shuffles,
steel in the heat,
tappin’ and whackin’
shaping the mould.

Sledge hammers close handy,
a coupla red cans,
just breakin’ even,
sweat runnin’ free.

Steam hammer flails on through the day,
hammers and tongs all stacked away.
Forge banked well back,
hot plate swung down,
sizzling aroma wafts through the shed.

A stack of shaped steel
for tomorrow’s long round,
blue print indelibly
stamped in his mind.

Steam hammers resting,
sock a few down,
sketchin’ chalk sketches,
ideas flick round.
Sorting out angles

forging ahead.


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They Did It Down In Freo
Industry On The Swan
Tracking Back
Time out on the Swan
You’re in the Country
Season’s Plying By
Freight
Flat Out
The Shearer
Happy Christmas 2016
Slap and Tickle
They Will Go Forever
Hanging Around
Livin’ the Dream
Camped Up
Muir