Daisy Hill poet Justin Geange has picked up three bush poetry prizes at the Ekka for his poem, “Old Mate”.
He won best original bush poem, best caravan bush poem, and the overall bush poetry grand champion.
Mr Geange has been writing poetry for three years, and this week shared his winning poem with MyCity Logan.
Old mate
Old mate he was a chippie
In the construction industry
With tats all down his body
And a mullet flowing free
He was a wag who loved a laugh
Yet worked the timber hard
At smoko drowning in his sweat
He was always quite the card
Often loud at prestart
With a joke, a quip or worse
Singing mostly out of key
Or reciting tasteless verse
Yet his swagger was alluring
A top bloke to be around
But something changed that Monday morn
When he didn’t make a sound
He might me off, Baz whispered
As old mate stared at the floor
And with the toolbox over
He was first to make the door
No one had seen old mate that low
Real close to leaking tears
Not even when the broncos lost
And he hoofed those flamin beers
This was a change there is no doubt
So we said just give him space
Nobody knew what might be wrong
But there was something out of place
It finally took old bluey
To step up to the plate
He was a trained connector
And he tracked down our old mate
He started off by saying
Hey there bloke ruok?
I noticed you were not yourself
At the toolbox talk today
Old mate was slow to answer
With his eyes glued to the floor
Afraid that if he looked at blue
His face would leak once more
But blue kept quiet and let him think
And gave old mate a chance
To get his thoughts together
Then he gave old blue a glance
I’m struggling my brother
From a weekend straight from hell
I lost big time on the GG’s
And me mrs left as well
To cope I sought the wrong advice
From Johnny, Jack and Jim
Then getting done for DUI
I lost my license on a whim
I don’t think I can take no more
He said with dread and fear
I’m broke and broken down old blue
I’d be better off not here
Then blue stepped in so genuine
And said old mate “that’s tough”
It sounds to me you may be thinking
That you’ve finally had enough
Old mate said yeah you got it right
I can’t do this any more
And blue said well I’m listening now
So tell me what’s the score
And just like a busted water pipe
His thoughts began to spew
While blue just sat and listened
Cause that’s the best thing he could do
He nodded and affirmed old mate
Not trying to fix a thing
And when he stopped for half a breath
No advice did bluey bring
Except to say that must be tough
And because I play with wood
How about WE call someone
To help you get to good
With that old blue picked up the phone
And together they made a call
To 1300 MIC
Where a legend caught the ball
They linked old mate to counselling
And followed up each week
While slowly he built wellness up
And again he found his peek
Once more old mate brought energy
Into every room he’d walk
But louder than his banter now
Was his need to talk the talk
He’d say that it ain’t weak to speak
When circumstances bite
And with mates around like bluey
We don’t have to loose this fight
And if we really break it down
We do it every day
We turn up for each other
In all we do and what we say
Today old mates a shining light
Because he gets what it’s about
With the gift of his experience
He now helps other tradies out
So let’s celebrate the champions
Just like blue, old mate and more
Who take the time to notice
When there their mates are feeling poor
They’re the legends of an industry
Volunteers who break the mould
Mostly Hi Viz on the outside
But their hearts, well they’re made of Gold
