The young bulls are downright wild
And the ringers mighty tough And each brags with his mates How he’ll give the other enough. The ballsy males will clash When muster time is here And young bucks stir the dust To hide their very fear. Now in the muster yard The bulls and boys are penned For the locking of the horns That honour will defend. In the middle of the yard Is the altar to the battle Where man and beast and hormones Hang from the Bronco Panel. Upright and rigid built The Panel is where we win The locking of the horns And the cutting of the skin. The rope is thrown upon the beast And cinched to the middle rail The panel holds, the ringers cast him And grab him by the tail. Many a bone is broken Many a head is bust The bulls come off the worst When their balls land in the dust. The Bronco Panel. Dead Man’s Waterhole Yards, Ettadina Station, Coopers Creek. The Bronco Panel. Dead Man’s Waterhole Yards, Ettadina Station, Coopers Creek.
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They knew of the great turmoil
when the land was made and formed by the creatures cast in stone and star when the very sky was born. The lessons of countless fathers Are the legacy of this race that sighs and breathes and listens to the very essence of this place. The songs of a thousand years brought them face to face with songs of another people from a faraway distant place. These were born to bring the Lord to those in heathen despair with the weight of the wooden cross a lifetime’s burden to bear. Driven from their own ancient land By those of another god They were steeled with resolve and angst to lay their hands upon the sod. They carried their crosses across the sea and filled their wagons with needs on a mad journey to the inland sea to devote their life to deeds. Then the hot wind stirred the salt on the shores of a sometimes sea as two cultures from two different lands collided with fateful misery. The stars had hardly turned and the water came but once then the songs were silent and the spirits returned to rocks. Now on the shore of the sometimes sea lie bits of stained glass and crockery amongst the stone tool armoury and the bones of human history. Written at Lake Killapaninna on the Coopers Creek, near its mouth into Lake Eyre. Site of the ruins of Bethesda Lutheran Mission (1867-1917). The site is littered with stone tools, bits of coloured glass, and human remains (both Lutheran and Aboriginal). |
Author"Words are clumsy pretenders of the images of my mind." Categories
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As a practicing artist I have travelled far and wide across Australia, walked on country, camped on country and rolled out my swag. I thank the custodians and I acknowledge the traditional owners of country throughout Australia and their continuing connection to land, culture and community. I pay my respect to Elders past and present.