April 2013
"The Kitchen Window"
I can see a short grey coupleDiagonally two doors over,From our bathroom,Invisibly joined at the hip.
Just like my late grandparentsKarl and Marie, washing dishesTogether in the kitchen window,Their…
Discussion
"The Kitchen Window"
1 Like
October 2012
Holy Harmony
What we need aren’t more jobs or more things.
What we need is more joy. More love. A better experience of life.
The sense of being awake. Alive.
The experience of…
Blog
Holy Harmony
1 Like
September 2012
Proposal
Do not listen to the voices, dear,
who say love will never age,
whether style, machismo or fear.
They are wrong however solemn they appear,
the poet, the prophet and the sage.
The future must remai…
Discussion
Proposal
2 Likes
August 2012
Fourteen Lines
My sofa is a book-yard,
A silent crash;
Anorexic pages thick with irony,
A poet’s graveyard in my living room,
Dulled jackets half open half eaten,
Dog-eared archetypes.
You compliment our 21st cen…
Discussion
Fourteen Lines
1 Like
July 2012
On a Bus Running Late and Bound For Bankstow…
On a bus running late n bound for Bankstown station
During post graduation
In primary education
On a bus running late n bound for Bankstown station
My peaceful meditations
Upon Dickens’ Expectati…
Discussion
On a Bus Running Late and Bound For Bankstow…
3 Likes
The Secret Life of Poetry
On the 19thof May I sprang out of bed, printed out a selection of my poems and headed to the State Library of NSW. With my precious poems clung to my chest I found my way to the…
Blog
The Secret Life of Poetry
1 Like
Paper Storm
Last night in my dreams, I had drawn a tropical storm. Dark, menacing beauty. Gusts of charcoal somehow rendering paper houses ripped and torn. Magnificent anger and movement without a trace of my ha…
Discussion
Paper Storm
2 Likes
boxer shorts
Boxer shorts
(or jackpot for the patriarchal privates)
At arm’s length often with phantom peg
on my nose, I’ve handled my husband’s
boxer shorts a million times.
God knows. Off the floor. Into…
Discussion
boxer shorts
1 Like
June 2012
Stupid Man
He looked straight at me and said"I won't write you poems":-/I knew then that love had diedbefore it beganthe stupid man criedwhy has life turned out this way?stupid stupid man
Discussion
Stupid Man
2 Likes
Elizabeth Bay
winters afternoon footpath winding home silver sheen of rain on tar branches beckon passing sun yearning for warmth... love pinholes of blue ink-washed sky comfort frightened dove trees whisper an…
Discussion
Elizabeth Bay
1 Like
May 2012
There once was a Limerick maker named Lear ...
This year marks the bicentenary of Edward…
Blog
There once was a Limerick maker named Lear ...
2 Likes
Cascade
Long black hair. She turns Streams of shade, a jet cascade mirrors leaves above
Strolling, taking in …ev’rything.. the trees, the grass sudden flock of doves Fountain sprays like shards of glass sl…
Discussion
Cascade
2 Likes
April 2012
Tunnel of Love
The Time . . .10:07 A.M. Saturday
The Place. . .Pedestrian tunnel from
St James Station to Macquarie Street.
Five or six bodies lie entombed on the
walkway, in…
Blog
Tunnel of Love
2 Likes
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…
Blog
Drama in Real Life
2 Likes
A MODERN ODE ( FOURTH ATTEMPT )
Being some lines on modernism
using modern methods not a
trace of punctuation no comma
no period no structure as such
lines leaching from the cranium
along…
Blog
A MODERN ODE ( FOURTH ATTEMPT )
4 Likes
March 2012
william james falls
Member
william james falls
2 Likes
November 2011
Brain Cells
Ghosts of the past are waiting,
waiting to break free
from the subconscious prison.
They lie dormant, like trees
in winter, down dim and
dangerous avenues in…
Blog
Brain Cells
5 Likes