January 2012 Blog Posts (15)

She'll be loved

Waiting, she waits for the heartache to dissolve

She dilutes her emotion with something to do, something to do…

An obese schedule to consume every thought of you

Lick the plate, she needs no scraps

Heavy hurt puts a slouch in her confidence

But that doesn’t stop her from getting around & around she goes

Sharing her beauty with those who are smart enough to take…

The advantage is for a moment,…

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Added by Jessica Lewis on January 31, 2012 at 10:29 — No Comments

She, the cat’s mother

I think we’ve woken up to her

And how selfish she is.

She, that is the cat’s mother.

Didn’t wish her brother

Happy birthday on the day.

Didn’t do the washing up

For her darling lover

Who cooked her up breakfast,

Lunch and a great dinner.

What a sinner, a sinner

Is she, the cat’s mother

Who ate it all up

Without saying thank you.

I think as a society

We’ve woken up to her

That she, who is…

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Added by Initially NO on January 30, 2012 at 15:57 — No Comments

Mausam – Seasons of Love

Mausam – Seasons of Love

 

It was a summer of light and shine,

When an ode it sang to heart mine.

Glad I was, being on cloud number nine,

Rejoicing the moment ignoring the sign,

Of times to come when I shall long and pine.

 

With thunder and lightning down came the rain,

Bringing along unwelcome pain.

I rummaged around but in vain,

Waited for…

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Added by Vinesh on January 27, 2012 at 13:16 — No Comments

REDNECKS NEXT DOOR

REDNECKS NEXT DOOR  ©JewelRainbow2009

A flash of torchlight through the window pierces the tropical night

A neighbour’s voice outside stage-whispers to his nearby wife:

“That’s disgusting,” he spits, staunching the light in his fist as I wake you.

Some say we’re strange bedfellows, you and me,

Your rainforest darkness dancing on my moonlight skin

They can’t fathom the feeling between us

“What does she see in him?”

Their love is blind to…

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Added by Jewel Vercoe Rainbow on January 27, 2012 at 12:30 — No Comments

A POEM ABOUT A GREAT SYDNEY POET

DECEMBER (For Dorothy Porter, 1954-2008) © Jewel Vercoe Rainbow

In December, the time of endings and celebration,

You quietly left this earth bereft and, so too, this nation

Your early death a selfish theft by the gods of Poesy

Who coveted you, great poetess, to recite at their nightly cosey



Piercing eyes of an eagle, cheekbones sculpted high and regal,

They recognised an Egyptian queen who once ruled in Memphis.

Your stylised words…

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Added by Jewel Vercoe Rainbow on January 27, 2012 at 12:30 — No Comments

In Glebe with JG

If a man calls himself by initials, you can assume he has been asked why that is so on more than one occasion, so what's the point in asking again? It's the same with a scar I suppose. So let's move on. My housemate calls himself JG. Jay-Gee. That's fine with me. If you say it enough times it sounds like a foreign name you've just not come across before. Before Christmas we met up by chance in the city and went about Glebe drinking Czech beers and Scotch. He was due to meet up with someone…

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Added by Louis Albuerque on January 23, 2012 at 15:40 — No Comments

Drongo was not a flyer

It is Australia Day this week so I have chosen a most Australian word as the word of the week. If you get called a drongo it is likely you have done something rather unintelligent in front of your mates. Drongo is a uniquely Australian, mild form of insult, defining a person’s wit as being at a level only slightly cleverer than idiot.

The word drongo originates as…

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Added by Tim Entwisle on January 23, 2012 at 12:28 — No Comments

breathing space event

Breathing Space: beware of the dog' Sunday 22 January PseudoSpace. Cecilia voice Ben (oboe) Michael (cello). Work based on the dog in Goethe's Faust. A circular pattern explores dis/location of self, acquiring knowledge, how the 'dog' of emotion and self talk can distract.

Added by cecilia white on January 20, 2012 at 17:26 — No Comments

Leeches were feasting on my calves

Leeches were feasting on my calves. That's how muddy it was out there in the bush today. They were only first noticed when I was getting in the shower. Somehow they made themselves up my trackpants leg. They're not something you see much where I come from. They were smaller than I would have expected, the leeches. What I would have expected was something you might have seen in the movies. Like that one with the boys out in the bush in search of a dead body they'd heard about. Only I don't…

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Added by Louis Albuerque on January 17, 2012 at 22:46 — No Comments

Naracoorte Nonsense.

Naracoorte Nonsense ?

 

Two tiny steam engines following along

both of them singing their sweet little song,

sucking up dust, spreading to air,

the farmer must feel downhearted despair.

But no !

He is just - clover seed harvesting.

Collecting seeds, expelling some dust,…

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Added by Jim Spain on January 13, 2012 at 15:32 — No Comments

Of Journeys and Destinations

*Random Thoughts for my son Christopher.....



Today I visited three old friends. I play on the word old, for these are friends who have weathered the seasons like me and upon whom the sun has shone harsh and cruel on this side of the globe.



It is always interesting to see where the passage of time finds everyone on the long road of life. In speaking of the long road of life, I liken the journey to that of a train ride. Consider for a moment a long train ride- at the end of…

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Added by THE BARD on January 5, 2012 at 14:04 — No Comments

Henry and Banjo.

 

Jim's Jottings 

Aussie Booklette Collection

*** 

My Australia Series

 

Design and production

Jim's Jottings Publications…

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Added by Jim Spain on January 4, 2012 at 14:57 — No Comments

Humble Habitat.

 

 

Prologue -                    Gum Tree Reserve.

 

An environmental activist, known hereabouts as

Banjo Hayes,

were it not for his intervention

this habitat,

would now be lost

in haze.

 

Humble Habitat.

 

This symbol in a  city, a little west of Sydney Town,

in Guildford a small suburb, deserving just renown.…

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Added by Jim Spain on January 4, 2012 at 14:05 — 2 Comments

Drama in Real Life

Take me where the wind blows

Over lush green fields and open spaces

And the eyes can gaze into

The brightness of a clear blue sky.

Here in this lost 'City of Joy'

These towers of Babel reaching for the sky

Cloaked in the glitz of neon blouses

Stare at me with the emptiness

that surrounds a prostitute.



I stand alone. Dwarfed by brick and mortar.

Mortified by some savage incomprehensible…
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Added by THE BARD on January 2, 2012 at 11:18 — No Comments

Year's End

Waves receding, back to the anonymity

of the pulsing swell,

their moment of glory dashed.

And here we stand, helpless on the shore

of almost New Year, watching as our year

of little triumphs, little tragedies float away,

with no fanfare, no farewell.

And already the waves of tomorrow

lap round our ankles,

it all begins . . . again.

Added by william james falls on January 1, 2012 at 10:59 — No Comments

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