The Wages of Lies

Wednesday, 11 September, 2024.

This poem was sent in by a NUAA community member.

By Sydney

Johnny Badlands is my name
I’ve been in prison a lot of my life.
It breaks my heart my son is in Parklea.
I shared a cell with Roger Rogerson,
A nicer bloke you wouldn’t wanna meet.
I lost my wife in childbirth.
The wages of liars is that when they tell the truth no one listens.
I was born in Gunya in Yowie bay.
I’m 78 years of age,
Would you share a whiskey with me?
I can tell a real person, a genuine person, that can’t be faked.
As a kid I dipped my feet in the water and caught fish,
I salute a fair dinkum Aussie when I see one.
I’ve been in prison everywhere.
Surry hills is not a lockup, it’s a jail.
Darlinghurst was no better.
I ride an empty railway carriage because no one can stand the smell of me.
My name is Johnny Badlands and you’re the nicest person I’ve met all day.
Don’t try and put me on the straight and narrow.
My name is Johnny Badlands
I salute you my new friend.
I’ve sometimes lived in pubs, the Harp for one.
The big book says no man should turn the key on another.
My heart breaks that my son is in Parklea
I lived in the Harp when it was the Riverview.
My best friend was killed in Long Bay.
More people entered the train carriage, they complained again of the piss smell,
The smell of urine.
I told them it was my cologne.
Johnny Badlands told them he put me onto it, a quality product.
There are too many jails now. No dignity there never was any.
My name is Johnny Badlands and you are genuine.
I know what is genuinely good.
I am going to Kings X.
Ego is not a dirty word.
I am a highlander.
The wages of a liar is that when they tell the truth nobody believes them.
The big book says no man should turn the key on another,
Yet it breaks my heart that my son sits in Parklea.
“Is that your nickname?”
“Johnny Badlands”?
Yes it is.
I’m gonna write a poem about you Johny Badlands.
Yes. Yes you are.