The Intro

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis 1876 (Auburn) – 1938 (Melbourne)

'Er name's Doreen ...Well, spare me bloomin' days!
You could er knocked me down wiv 'arf a brick!
  Yes, me, that kids meself I know their ways,
  An' 'as a name for smoogin' in our click!
I just lines up 'an tips the saucy wink.
But strike! The way she piled on dawg! Yer'd think
  A bloke was givin' back-chat to the Queen....
  'Er name's Doreen.
 
I seen 'er in the markit first uv all,
Inspectin' brums at Steeny Isaacs' stall.
  I backs me barrer in - the same ole way --
  An' sez, 'Wot O! It's been a bonzer day.
'Ow is it fer a walk?' ... Oh, 'oly wars!
The sorta look she gimme! Jest becors
  I tried to chat 'er, like you'd make a start
  Wiv any tart.
 
An' I kin take me oaf I wus perlite.
An' never said no word that wasn't right,
  An' never tried to maul 'er, or to do
  A thing yeh might call croook. Ter tell yeh true,
I didn't seem to 'ave the nerve -- wiv 'er.
I felt as if I couldn't go that fur,
  An' start to sling of chiack like I used...
  Not intrajuiced!
 
Nex' time I sighted 'er in Little Bourke,
Where she was in a job. I found 'er lurk
  Wus pastin' labels in a pickle joint,
  A game that -- any'ow, that ain't the point.
Once more I tried to chat 'er in the street,
But, bli'me! Did she turn me down a treat!
  The way she tossed 'er head an' swished 'er skirt!
  Oh, it wus dirt!
 
A squarer tom, I swear, I never seen,
In all me natchril, than this 'ere Doreen.
  It wer'n't no guyver neither; fer I knoo
  That any other bloke 'ad Buckley's 'oo
Tried fer to pick 'er up. Yes, she was square.
She jest sailed by an' lef me standin' there
  Like any mug. Thinks I, 'I'm out er luck,'
  And done a duck.
 
Well, I dunno. It's that way wiv a bloke.
If she'd ha' breasted up ter me an' spoke.
  I'd thort 'er jist a common bit er fluff,
  An' then fergot about 'er, like enough.
It's jest like this. The tarts that's 'ard ter get
Makes you all 'ot to chase 'em, an' to let
  The cove called Cupid get a 'ammer-lock;
  An' lose yer block.
 
I know a bloke 'oo knows a bloke 'oo toils
In that same pickle found-ery. ('E boils
  The cabbitch storks or somethink.) Anyway,
  I gives me pal the orfis fer to say
'E 'as a sister in the trade 'oo's been
Out uv a jorb, an' wants ter meet Doreen;
  Then we kin get an into, if we've luck.
  'E sez, 'Ribuck.'
 
O' course we worked the oricle; you bet!
But, 'struth, I ain't recovered frum it yet!
  'Twas on a Saturdee, in Colluns Street,
  An' - quite by accident, o' course -- we meet.
Me pal 'e trots 'er up an' does the toff --
'E allus wus a bloke fer showin' off.
  'This ere's Doreen,' 'e sez. 'This 'ere's the Kid.'
  I dips me lid.
 
'This 'ere's Doreen,' 'e sez. I sez 'Good day.'
An' bli'me, I 'ad nothin' more ter say!
  I couldn't speak a word, or meet 'er eye.
  Clean done me block! I never been so shy,
Not since I was a tiny little cub,
An' run the rabbit to the corner pub --
  Wot time the Summer days wus dry and 'ot --
  Fer me ole pot.
 
Me! that 'as barracked tarts, an' torked an' larft,
An' chucked orf at 'em like a phonergraft!
  Gorstrooth! I seemed to lose me pow'r o' speech.
  But 'er! Oh, strike me pink! She is a peach!
The sweetest in the barrer! Spare me days,
I carn't describe that cliner's winnin' ways.
  The way she torks! 'Er lips! 'Er eyes! 'Er hair! ...
  Oh, gimme air!
 
I dunno 'ow I done it in the end.
I reckerlect I arst ter be 'er friend;
  An' tried to play at 'andies in the park,
  A thing she wouldn't sight. Aw, it's a nark!
I gotter swear when I think wot a mug
I must 'a' seemed to 'er. But still I 'ug
  That promise she give me fer the beach.
  The bonzer peach!
 
Now, as the poit sez, the days drag by
On ledding feet. I wish't they'd do a guy.
  I dunno 'ow I 'ad the nerve ter speak,
  An' make that meet wiv 'er fer Sundee week!
But strike! It's funny wot a bloke'll do
When 'e's all out ... She's gorn, when I come-to.
  I'm yappin' to me cobber uv me mash....
  I've done me dash!
 
'Er name's Doreen....An' me -- that thort I knoo
  The ways uv tarts, an' all that smoogin' game!
An' so I ort; fer ain't I known a few?
  Yet some'ow ... I dunno. It ain't the same.
I carn't tell wot it is; but all I know,
I've dropped me bundle -- an' I'm glad it's so.
  Fer when I come ter think uv wot I been....
  'Er name's Doreen.

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)
 

Submitted on May 13, 2011

48 Views

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis, better known as C. J. Dennis, was an Australian poet known for his humorous poems, especially "The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke", published in the early 20th century. Though Dennis's work is less well known today, his 1915 publication of The Sentimental Bloke sold 65,000 copies in its first year, and by 1917 he was the most prosperous poet in Australian history. Together with Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson, both of whom he had collaborated with, he is often considered among Australia's three most famous poets. While attributed to Lawson by 1911, Dennis later claimed he himself was the 'laureate of the larrikin'. When he died at the age of 61, the Prime Minister of Australia Joseph Lyons suggested he was destined to be remembered as the 'Australian Robert Burns'. more…

All Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis poems | Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Books

FAVORITE (0 fans)

Translation

Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

Select another language:

  • - Select -
  • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
  • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
  • Español (Spanish)
  • Esperanto (Esperanto)
  • 日本語 (Japanese)
  • Português (Portuguese)
  • Deutsch (German)
  • العربية (Arabic)
  • Français (French)
  • Русский (Russian)
  • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
  • 한국어 (Korean)
  • עברית (Hebrew)
  • Gaeilge (Irish)
  • Українська (Ukrainian)
  • اردو (Urdu)
  • Magyar (Hungarian)
  • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
  • Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Italiano (Italian)
  • தமிழ் (Tamil)
  • Türkçe (Turkish)
  • తెలుగు (Telugu)
  • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
  • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
  • Čeština (Czech)
  • Polski (Polish)
  • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Românește (Romanian)
  • Nederlands (Dutch)
  • Ελληνικά (Greek)
  • Latinum (Latin)
  • Svenska (Swedish)
  • Dansk (Danish)
  • Suomi (Finnish)
  • فارسی (Persian)
  • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
  • հայերեն (Armenian)
  • Norsk (Norwegian)
  • English (English)

Discuss this Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis poem with the community:

Citation

Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

Style:MLAChicagoAPA

"The Intro" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 11 Aug. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/6686/the-intro>.

We need you!

Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

Other poems by

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

»

Our favorite collection of

Famous Poets

»

Our awesome collection of

Promoted Poems

»

Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.