WauloK : The life and interests of an Aussie

Dictionaraoke

WauloK — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 01:59:26 +0000

Dictionary websites have samples of words to help you understand the pronounciation.
Someone has taken those samples and put them to an instrumental track and has the dictionary samples singing famous songs like Highway to Hell and Barbie Girl.

Guest panelist on Tech Webcast

WauloK — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 03:31:31 +0000

Today I had the privilege of being a guest presenter on the “Tech Webcast” podcast. Recorded live via Skype, Tech Webcast is the creation of Bradaus.

You can download the show in the next couple of days via iTunes and don’t forget to check out the website “Tech Webcast“.

Today we discussed the iPad, Windows 7, Microsoft shutting down a huge botnet called Waldec, a ’speed trap warning’ iPhone application called “Wikango”, Australians surveyed say their broadband speeds are typically 48% of the advertised speed and a Twitter phishing attack.

I created a new graphics logo and intro for the show, both of which will be on the new episode of the podcast.

Download Episode 61 from iTunes or listen to it shortly on the Tech Webcast website.

Hopefully I will be able to be a regular presenter on the show and have been invited back when I can.

Poem – The Good Old Days

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:58:05 +0000

As he watched the crackling fire,
The flames leapt, higher and higher,
Showing brilliant hues amongst the glowing blaze,
Warmth now enveloping him amidst the swirling haze.

His faithful dog warming his feet,
Feeling drowsy he succumbed to sleep,
Among the tall eucalyptus trees,
One with nature his body and soul at ease.

He began dreaming of the former years,
Where mankind could live free of fears,
Building log-cabins in the bush back then,
Though far away, down in the glen.

Life was modest with nought a care,
Food was plentiful though simple fare,
Living was earned by the sweat of your brow,
With horses towing the stump-jump plough.

Everyone helped their fellow man,
Everything seemed to fit into plan,
When battlers scraped and were down on their luck,
Friends rallied around and showed rare pluck.

Bartering goods was the usual norm,
The midwife delivered any new born,
Those were the days of love and caring,
Giving to others, always sharing.

Any food you may have left over,
Was shared with a swagman or a wandering drover,
People once more were returning to the good old days,
Getting back to basics and rethinking their ways.

On awakening from this refreshing dream,
He ate his breakfast beside the stream,
Then whistling to his dog named zac,
He continued his wandering down the track.

Hilda Oakley
Copyright © 25.11.1997

Poem – Rhapsody in Green

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:55:13 +0000

Curled up under bushes in a tight cocoon,
Snugly protected like a baby in the womb,
Resting in my haven, a secure safe nest,
Warm and cosy, like a child at a breast.

I’m joined to Mother-Nature and her umbilical cord,
A wondrous union in a harmonious accord,
Breathing in the perfume of pine scented trees,
An illusion of radiance hovered over me.

Drifting into dreamland where fantasies come true,
Wishing not for riches, but peace the whole world through,
I entered the cosmos, far away from harm,
Where comfort and love met as a healing balm.

Returning to Earth I awoke from the deep,
Exhilarated and focused after a sound sleep,
A fire in my belly, it came to me,
With a fierce and final urgency.

Preserve the flora for generations to come,
Grow a small shrub or eucalyptus gum,
Leafy bushes planted by hand,
Making Australia a greener land.

Hilda Oakley
Copyright © 27.07.1999

Poem – Remember

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:53:33 +0000

Remember our boys, who travelled by sea,
To fight on the shores of Gallipoli,
Remember our lads, who paid the ultimate price,
Fought for their country, lost their life.

Hearing about the atrocities of war,
It touched their hearts to what they saw,
Encouraging Australians to enlist, to make a start,
Join-up, you can make a difference, do your part.

They reached the front line; they faced their fears,
Gunfire and grenades echoed in their ears,
Bombers roared above, their target they could see,
Dropping their load with pinpoint accuracy.

By day and by night the big bombs fell,
The ground trembled; it was a living hell,
With determination, courage, and with mates, they knew,
It was a challenge, but they would see it through.

Alert to danger all around,
As they lay hidden on the ground,
Remember these highly trained men,
Fighting this war to the bitter end.

Remember our men, suffering in pain,
Wanting to be healed, to fight again,
Remember our loved ones, who never came home,
A father, a brother, a son of your own.

Sitting holding his head in his hands,
Recalling the battle in faraway lands,
In the ferocious encounter, amongst all the strife,
His buddy, his best mate, lost his life.

The war is over, the “Last Post” sounds,
Their best friend lies covered, beneath the ground,
Never again to feel the sun on his face,
His sacrifice ending in a better place.

Remember those soldiers, who kept our country safe and free,
Remember, those were the ones protecting you and me,
Now stop for a solemn minute, bow your head,
Remember those, whose blood was shed.

Hilda Oakley
Copyright © 11.11.2009

Poem – Procreation of the Bush

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:51:51 +0000

Her heartbeat accelerated as she began to prevail,
Mother nature groaned and moaned before the earth could fail,
Bush-fires had seared the fauna and flora of earth,
Now her actions would cause a fertile rebirth.
Out of ashes, dust, filth, grime,
Green shoots were birthed in the unseasoned clime,
Torn between anguish, bitterness, pain,
Generations of one family, had hope once again.
They’d battled drought, overdrafts, now there’s fire,
Work was their opiate, a pressing desire,
Struggling, tossing doubts aside,
They’d plough the burnt land with fierce Aussie pride.
Back-breaking work, yet the horrors would go,
In their place, green things would grow,
Red skies streaked above the flame scorched land,
Screams echoed from anxiety stricken man,
These were jubilant, the elements changed,
Thunderstorms burst on the arid plain.

Hilda Oakley
Copyright © 01.09.2001

Poem – Our Military Heroes

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:50:31 +0000

Remember the first Anzacs who journeyed by sea,
Onto the shores of Galipoli,
Young, fit, courageous men, standing proud and tall,
From Australia and New Zealand, they answered the call.

Our Drill Sergeant, powerful and strong,
Trained, skilled and ready to get the job done,
A fire in his belly, no fear he had,
Trained and protected each of his lads.

Leading the new recruits, showing the way,
How to dodge enemy bullets in the affray,
He was patriotic and ready for war,
Ill prepared for the carnage and atrocities he saw.

Under cover of darkness the barges hit the beach,
Wading ashore, protection out of reach,
Gunfire roared down on us from the cliffs above,
We immediately moved each and everyone.

Beneath these cliffs, across the sand,
Here we dug in and made a stand,
Horrendous, putrid, rotting stench,
Squashed like sardines in a trench.

The word to ‘advance forward’, came that day,
Orders are orders, we had to obey,
Climbing from trenches, scrambling through mud,
Passing the wounded covered in blood.

Many hours later, tired and worn,
We stopped for a break at the light of dawn,
Heads were counted, one was gone,
Sarg backtracked and did the search alone.
Finding the soldier lying deep in the mire,
Pinned down by enemy, sniper fire,
Anger ran through him, he had to try,
To rescue the new recruit, no one knew why.

After shooting the sniper out of the tree,
He ran to the young lad instantly,
Another bullet went astray,
The sergeant was killed that very day.

The horrific news came, the lad was his son,
Shock in the camp, it touched everyone,
In the spirit of camaraderie, mateship grew,
Bonding together to get them through.

Many Anzacs were killed on that perilous day,
They became a legend in their own special way,
Their pride of their country, they paid such a price,
We will forever remember their great sacrifice.

Hilda Oakley
Copyright Ó 08.03.2009

Dedication
Today we come together to remember each and every Australian and New Zealand Service Person in each and every war, but today we honour and remember those men who were the reason for today’s celebration, Anzac Day. The young men the ANZACS, who paid the ultimate price in giving their lives, to help keep our country safe and free.
We will remember them.

“Lest We Forget”

Poem – Magic at the Beach

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:49:29 +0000

What happened to me that day,
Was totally radical in every way,
The seaside beckoned with urgency,
Luring, inviting and exciting me.

Grabbing my basket with cosies in,
The water may be warm enough for a swim,
Searching around I found a secluded place,
Cooled by a gentle breeze, caressing my face.

Here dreams came and went,
Reminiscing of life past and present,
A brand new year, a fresh start,
Love with its power touched my heart.

Renewed in spirit as it washed over me,
As waves upon a refreshing sea,
Sensational was this happening, moving and rare,
Feeling vibrant, alive, a thrill beyond compare.

Connecting to the cosmos, strolling on the beach,
Bonding with nature I felt totally at peace,
Strolling along the glistening sand,
Happiness welled up inside making me glad.

Further along, little treasures I found,
Driftwood from the tide lying all around,
Sea-shells scattered in a fairy ring,
This walk along the beach changed everything.

This calming atmosphere healed life’s past,
Giving me peace and contentment at last,
Freedom I had never felt before,
Amazing was my experience on the lonely shore.

It was as though my life had just begun,
Gone were all my problems, everyone,
My eyes were opened in an awesome way,
The ‘New Year’ will be special from this magical day.

Leaving the beach I scoured the ground,
Plastic bags and rubbish were lying all around,
Fired up now to keep the landscape pristine,
I wanted this hallowed sight to be kept natural and clean.

Poem – Harsh is the Land

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:48:07 +0000

Patched trousers, dirt on his hands,
Working hard, he challenges the land,
Up at dawn, splashes his face,
There’s work to do around the place.
Cows to be milked, animals fed,
A quiver on his lips, shoulders squared,
Things for him were extremely bad,
Shockingly, war had killed his dad.
Overnight he’d grown into a man,
The only son, this sturdy lad,
Twelve years old today,
He’d meet life’s challenges in every way.
Responsibility lay like a heavy cloak,
He’d struggle, but would he cope?
Mend fences, would it be too hard?
Ploughing acres yard by yard.
The bush telegraph did the rounds,
When needed, neighbours, friends were found,
Help and advice were given now,
Grasping the use of the stump-jump plough.
Idleness never had been a part of his life,
Working hard from dawn til night,
Drought visited his place,
Death written on it’s face,
When perils come to the man on the land,
Aussies in the outback, rally together to lend a hand.

Poem – Angels on Life’s Pathway

WauloK — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 23:42:19 +0000

I believe in angels, they’re everywhere,
Beautiful, radiant, glowing and rare,
Coming to me when I was down,
Lifting my spirits to higher ground.

Moving on to another day,
A different angel came my way,
Magical, mystic, I’m not alone,
As I welcomed this person into my home.

Burdened by life, feeling despair,
You brightened me up and showed me care,
An angel of mercy, sweet and kind,
Bringing harmony into my mind.

Radiating peace, beauty and calm,
Soft and gentle, a healing balm,
As the angel looked into my face,
Love flowed as a warm embrace.

Wiping away tears from my eyes,
A kind gesture, a loving surprise,
When you placed your hand in mine,
It was spiritual, almost divine.