Ronald Beswick Blogspot

  Trauma, depression, and pain are words that we hear all the time. I have experienced all three plus illness and at 66 years of age. And I cannot admit I done it tough. When I was about nine, I was bitten on the face by a dog on the school playground. My memory of the event is not very clear and it’s something I’ve rarely talked about. I was scarred for life! My recollection is there were two dogs and I patted one of them and the other one bit me. I remember screaming and running behind the kindergarten block on my way to the staff room. My hand was on my face which was covered in blood and I was crying. Other kids were in a bit of shock and my sister was about. The man from the garage next to the school came to my rescue to take me up to Doctor Carruthers who stitched and treated me. I believe my mother was at the club playing Housie at the time. A few days later Doctor Cohen took the stitches out and he may have tried a bit of humour on me. From what I recall, I had no c...

Froth of My Dinner Ale I was having a brew Near the Rocks at Barangaroo When a gentleman told me a tale He seemed that poor I could not ignore To share my delicious Braised Quail He once steered ships On exotic trips And had slept through a force 10 gale A legend of the sea Then he had to flee Because his vessel was about to sail I found a spoon To please King Neptune Who worships the habits of a whale It's a branch of my study In parapsychology That baffles the froth of my dinner ale Bring on the myths With a circle of fifths In this place with a trendy life style Eight hour day For a fair decent pay To remember the Hungry Mile They once trapped Crabs Not to feed scabs But spare a bit for the rank and file You should never forget The Labourers Sweat That made this place all worthwhile I found a spoon To please King Neptune Who worships the habits of a whale It's a branch of my study In parapsycholog...

  Filthy Rotten Cockroach Louie the fly wore a tie when he arrived at the party He seen the Mortein Before he went green Then panicked and died violently An argument began By an ego driven man Commander and chief of slavery We are all going insane Hearing bullshit from a brain The latest make up policy There's a crawl To start a nasty brawl Exposing an intruder to encroach You’re not sure what to do You can try the boys in blue To sort out this filthy rotten Cockroach I once knew a grub That came from the scrub And liked to hang around the gutter Inspired by Vermin And thrill to sin Before he was struck by a strutter she was a dove Fooled by true love But he was just a born loser He found a bath To have a good laugh They are now spreading fake butter There's a crawl To start a nasty brawl Exposing an intruder to encroach You’re not sure what to do You can try the boys in blue To sort out...

 Music was part of my earliest years of life. My mother would sing around the house until a record player arrived. She continued to sing when bathing the dog and I remember hearing, "What shall we do with a drunken sailor." I heard this repetitively!  My eldest sister Sharon had a Beatle record and Deep Purple's Machine Head. My other sister Yvonne was nearly 3 years older than me, and she had Carly Simon, Brian Cadd, Tubular Bells, and others in her collection. We had different music tastes. My folks collection consisted of Harry Secombe, The Seekers, Kamahl, Paul Robeson and I remember hearing Steve Marriott's voice when he was the Artful Dodger in Oliver. I was not a big fan of Adults music at this time.  My father did have a record with songs, "Piss Off Parking Inspector" and "long Live the Bastard King of England." When I looked at their Records after my mother died I noticed the diversity of music. My father was known to turn up the volume wh...

 Celebrating Saint Patrick's Day (In Tullamore) It was a little after four When I arrived in Tullamore To celebrate Saint Patrick's Day Hear a fella tellin' tales In the middle of New South Wales A Leprechaun with plenty to say An audience wearin' green A very creative scene Orange with a tiny spot of grey There's Guinness in a jar Only served at the bar In the pub on Saint Patrick's Day There's plenty to laugh at Even a goat to pat Just for Rosemary, Thyme and Hay No Sage for the food Colonial Goose can be stewed So you won't starve on Saint Patrick's Day Having a good time Hearing words that rhyme On a magnificent Saint Patrick's Day There's dancing in the dust Where the lizards lust And the chooks just want to lay Like an owl that hoots Wearing the latest boots The old Jillaroo has plenty to say A fake accent To make no argument On a peaceful Saint Patrick's Day Even a Bogan is there A harmless lair Squatting in his cosy drey Not like ...

 I'm not sure what this is about, but it goes back to 2004 JOHNNY THE TURK Drunk as a skunk, he tries to beat up a punk In his combat uniform They call him Johnny War games are his hobby Hell bent for weather'n a storm Oh, Johnny the turk Pen pushing is his work The battle field is where he should lurk Johnny the Turk He switched of Othello to watch Abbot and Costello Morons from planet beauty They call him Johnny War games are his hobby Hell bent on tours of duty Oh, Johnny the turk Pen pushing is his work The battle field is where he should lurk Johnny the Turk He studied Karate, then went to this party In his combat uniform They call him Johnny War games are his hobby Hell bent for weather'n a storm Oh, Johnny the turk Pen pushing is his work The battle field is where he should lurk Johnny the Turk He had an idea, with a weapon to fear Organising trick or treat War games are his hobby Hell bent for weather'n a storm Oh, Johnny the turk Pen pushing is his work The bat...