Way Out West Of Wagga
The train winds west from wagga
Me - sitting sweating from the sun
My swag up on the swaying rack
Now beholden to no-one.
It's a morning on the sky line
The sun slides slanting rays
The countryside is counting
In years and not in days.
Way out west of wagga
Is why the journey ends
I’m off to find my people
And cast off city friends.
My mob came from out that country
That the white folks made their own
They sent us off to rail yards
And Redfern was our home.
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poem by David Keig
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The Train Winds West From Wagga
The train winds west from wagga
Me - sitting sweating from the sun
My swag up on the swaying rack
Me - beholden to no-one.
It's a morning on the sky line
The sun slides slanting rays
The countryside is counting
In years and not in days.
Way out west of wagga
Is where the journey ends
I’m off to find my people
And cast off city friends.
My mob came from out that country
That the white folks made their own
They sent us off to rail yards
And Redfern was our home.
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poem by David Keig
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Paradise Lost
When i said i'd die tomorrow
My whole family was there
I said i'd go to heaven
And i asked them for their prayers.
I'll admit my hands were sweaty
But i'd practised many times
The dry runs were quite frequent
Behind those hostile lines.
The check point was quite easy
They really didn't look at me
I looked the part, spoke Hebrew
Seemed like i'd got friends with me.
The restaurant was crowded
Women, kids, just having fun
I'd been trained to find the best spot
To detonate the bomb.
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poem by David Keig
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A Road Well Travelled
A road well travelled does not the journey ease
Nor do well placed signposts aid our itineraries
A road well travelled is rough and rutted where
Others have passed by this way overburdened with their cares
A road well-travelled may be full of risks and dangers
You keep yourself unto yourself and never talk to strangers.
This road well travelled has no final end in sight
It can be sunny in the daytime but quite frightening at night
This road well travelled can sometimes just disappear
And you stop not knowing where to go shivering with fear
This road well travelled sometimes returns you to its start
And leaves you walking round in circles with a sad and heavy heart.
My road well travelled has many toll gates on the way
Each time I ask directions there’s a need to always pay
My road well travelled is a lonely road at times
It is a real road that I know it’s not just a state of mind
My road well travelled is not just my road you see
It’s a road that many others take and it’s called anxiety.
poem by David Keig
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The Summer of Sixty Eight
It wasn’t the summer of 69
It was the summer of 68
A levels
Leaving school
Suddenly the map of life changed
School bullies puffed up on hormonal bravado
Were now like amateur men
John Marshall
A school bully
Who, strangely, I got on with
Me with my sticky out ears and buck teeth and skinniness
Him with that rascal look
Him who’d got two B’s
And me with my 4 A’s
Summer
Hot – at least for England.
We’d all got our results
No more school uniform
Eighteen
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poem by David Keig
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The Black Ships Were Low Laden
The black ships were low laden
And to portugal home bound
They rose with that deep ocean swell
Slowed by the riches they had found.
Those black ships were a portent
Of a far more deadly trade
Of human traffic taken
And transported as mere slaves.
Deep within those black ships' hulls
And flaming on their sails
A thousand souls were crying
Like a chorus in those gales.
The winds were blowing backward
Each venomous black boat
The weight inside each one of them
Fought against them being afloat.
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poem by David Keig
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Armistice day
I rewrote a previous poem of mine......
Brave buildings built in honour of
The ones they left behind
With thoughts still whole unspoken
Of a sentimental kind
Of the men who go to war without
Any question of deceit
The ones that die on battlefields
And of serious disease.
For though some wars are over
And many battles lost
These buildings tower over us
So we can count the cost
Lest we forget our fallen men
So shall we every night
Remember those who held their flag
And thought their fight was right.
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poem by David Keig
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I've Not Been To Jerusalem
No one told me it was easy
No one told me that this life
Would be only joy and happiness
And lacking any strife.
No one told me it was easy
No one said it was a breeze
With no problems on the journey
And just doing as I please.
No one told me that my future
Would be more troubled than my past
For I was young and optimistic
And lived each day as if my last.
No one told me that those black clouds
Would not be followed by blue skies
For I believed in providence
And no failure could be mine.
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poem by David Keig
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When Hitler Came To Breakfast
When Hitler came to breakfast
He just sat quietly there
With that silly little moustache
And that dark and greasy hair.
He didn't really talk much
And he had a frightened look
We tried to jolly him along
By practising salutes.
I really hate that Brooks man
He finally exclaimed
With that awful movie
Now remind me what's its name?
We all sat stunned in silence
No one dared to speak
We'd got it from the video store
Only just last week.
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poem by David Keig
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The Howard Blues
There is a federal election in just over a week in Australia. John Howard is the current PM....
I got the Howard blues
A’heavy on my mind
I got the Howard blues
So, heavy on my mind
And if he wins the next election
No sadder man you’ll find.
In this land of full employment
With real wages high
In this land of full employment
With real wages high
Why do the rich get richer
Than all us other guys?
In this time of record profits
It makes no sense to me
In this time of record profits
It makes no sense to me
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poem by David Keig
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