I met him for the first time in the early summer of 1963. I was walking, guitar case in hand, to my appointed busking position. I was in no great hurry. Respectable…

Easter is a period packed with custom and ritual. How could it not be so? It is, after all, another one of those marvellous pagan revels, snitched from the 'Old Religions' and put to…

There was a time when I travelled the valleys of South Wales quite extensively. I have clear, sometimes dramatic, memories of battling both the roads and the elements. I remember Rhymney,…

I wrote ‘Memories Clear – Images of Holmfirth’ as a result of researching ‘Questions In Time’ a journal article for the magazine ‘Open Writing’.  The focus of the article being…

Somewhere in the inspirational past an erudite lecturer of economics introduced me and my fellow inebriates to the maxim ‘there are lies, damned lies and statistics’, it has…

 With the coming of every election, confusion reigns supreme at poling booths all over the country. Each party's dedicated faithful hand out a form of instant litter known as 'how to vote…

With regret I'm announcing that SydneyPoetry.com won't be running the Sydney Poetry Prize this year.

The inaugural prize was…

There is a place, behind the eyes

where calm and quiet waits,

far from cities and suburbs of noise.

I go there, glad to be away from

visual and verbal…

Half moon clinging to

early morning light,

translucent and fragile against

blue sky.

A silent watcher from above,

watching over man

and beast.

His…

A smashed up table and chairs lie piled

up against the wall in the gallery . . .

a sign reads 'Disappointment Number Seven'

In the same room, a…