Clive Howlett - The Man & His Poetry

1915
They took my mates to the first world war
They never returned they never saw
The people left behind are just a rabble
They have no respect for what you’ve done
They will never know or care not one  
For it was you who cared who sacrificed, so they don’t have to pay the price
The price of life was dear back then  
To see death today they smile and grin
To go to war without a choice, somebody should have raised their voice
The cream of the crop was lost over there and we wonder today why we are in despair
They will not work, they will not toil, so many good men buried in foreign soil
They should not have gone, they should have stayed
Today we would not be afraid, of what has replaced the chosen few
The thugs, the gangs and the derelict crew
It will change one day, it must I guess
Or this country will be in an awful mess
God help us all, we have to pray
The worker will come back and be here to stay

To Muster the Cluster
Scomo rang Albo, said mate we need someone to muster the cluster of Covid 19
Albo said leave it to me, I’ll get my mate Jim Custer and his Kelpie dog Buster, I’ve known him since 73

Addicted to AstraZeneca and Pfizer vaccine

Buster was there smart and keen
He ran around Sydney fast and mean
He mustered the people like sheep in a flock and the ones he missed, Jim hit with a rock
The sceptics and greenies were ringing their bell
But Jim said to Albo I’ll jab them as well
So, they mustered them all, the short and the tall, the big and the lazy and the ones that are small
How do we do it Albo said to Jim
Leave it to me he said with a grin
Women to the left and men to the right and the ones I’m not sure of, I’ll do them at night
So, the Covid was beaten and down on its luck
Jim said to Albo tell Scomo good luck

Struggle Town
A shearer tramped to Struggle Town when sunset shed cut out
And on the corner of the street there stood a lazy roustabout
He looked him up, he looked him down and then began to say  
A roustabout like you should be at work today
I will not work it is my right, we roustabouts we rule the sheds and have the final say
The shearer turned around with a look of dismay and then began to say
We shearers are the backbone of the nation and you it’s little toe  
Well don’t go to work the shearer said
You won’t be missed, you look so bloody slow