My Light
Jenny Kathopoulis
Wodonga, VIC
Please do not dim my light
with the cut of your sarcasm
and the slap of your indifference
or the whip of your anger;
It flickers weakly.
Please do not smother my light
with your clenched back
and your waspish tongue
or your distant hands;
It fades slowly.
Please do not suppress my light
with the stab of your mockery
and the bite of your contempt
or the pinch of your silence;
It fizzles softly.
Please do not quash my light
with your bored gaze
and your false words
or your cheating lips;
It splutters feebly.
You can’t extinguish my light
with truth I spark the wick
and the flame smoulders soft
or if stoked it roars to life;
It shines too bright for you.
Ed: We liked the rhythm of this poem, the word play, the structure, but above all, the defiant, empowering, punchline. Inspirational!
Saturday 17 August 2013 4 pm
The House On Napoleon Street
Winsome Smith
Lithgow, NSW
Ah, feel it.
Feel how the empty house shrinks in on itself
like lips on a toothless mouth.
Wonder, now that they’ve gone,
how three generations found room
for massive chairs with antimacassars,
for sideboards and cabinets with cabriole legs,
whole cumbersome suites and completed glory boxes.
Reflect, if you will,
that here lived a family of bellowing rage
whose uproar of voices and booming thunderbolts of anger
made the stranger stand back, astonished.
Then consider
that in this resounding cacophony of hatred
even the walls recoiled
to accommodate the noise.
Now feel, with a shudder, the diminishing house
And hear nothing
But the slow thud of the banging gate.
Sunday 18 August 2013
Words Fail Me
Marilyn Linn
Darlington, SA
I would have, if I could have,
but I didn’t – so you see,
I’m standing here frustrated,
feeling like a tree.
My feet are firmly planted,
but my head sways to and fro,
I really want to do it,
but the words refuse to flow.
My mother always knew it,
‘You’re a ditherer,’ she’d say,
‘Always put off ’til tomorrow,
what you should do today.’
I plan to write a story,
but the plot I cannot catch,
the hero and the heroine
do not seem to match.
My imagination tangles
in a hot and steamy scene,
and my face turns red with blushes
at where my mind has been!
Does she love him? Will she kill him?
Will they run away to Spain?
Can she have another romance
while travelling on the train?
I’m feeling quite exhausted
as I put my pen aside,
motivation comes and goes,
like the slowly ebbing tide.
I’ll sort it out tomorrow,
I’ll get organised by then.
I need a snack, I’ll have a sleep,
and then begin again.
Monday 19 August 2013
Wind
Jordan Black
Cloncurry, QLD
Around my face it moves hot or cold
We all feel it day to day young or old
Gentle breeze through ancient trees
Savage winds move savage seas
It howls, flows, whistles and wails
Puts kites in air and fills our sails
Wind comes towards us and away
Blows at night and through the day
Freedom bought freedom earned
The wind is my freedom when I leave the urn
Monday 19 August 2013 4 pm
A Spell For Ireland
David Jenkins
O’Connor, ACT
As the Goddess Ériu lives and breathes,
Her rugged green land sighs and heaves.
And she weeps the rains for pity's sake,
Her tears the river, the lough and lake.
And the dotted lines from her to me,
That fly and flow her heart’s deep sea.
Though I cannot see her, and she not I,
Love traces bright arcs and does not lie.
And when this good great land is finally one,
She'll weep some more; and her peace be done.
Tuesday 20 August 2013
Sum Wee Wurds O’Praise, Marilyn
Alexander Gardiner
Bullaburra, NSW
Wance apone a time lang ago,
there wis this beauty that wis so very so.
A beauty wae lotes an’ lotes o’class ,
bit that beauty noo his came tae pass.
Reekin’ wae class ma Bonny Lass,
a remember aw yer spectacular past.
Yea wir beautiful and saft like a baby fawn,
an’ fresh Lass; as fresh as a crispy dawn.
Oh Bonny Lassy stonnin’ there,
oh tae hiv met yea wid hiv bin ma prayer.
Jings yea hid sic muckle beauty,
tae hiv looked efter yea wid hiv bin ma welcum duty.
Day an’ nicht a wid hiv guarded yea ma Bonny Lass,
nae cravin’ pervert ah wid hiv lit pass.
Cos’ a kid see yea didnae wear muckle claes,
an yer chist reminds me o’ Bonny Scoatish braes.
Jings a did luv yer Bonny roondid’ bahookie,
ah wisnae leerin’ Lass, jist had a wee lookie.
My passions came frae deep within.
ma Bonny Lass; ma thochts; ... Ding a ling ling.
Oany kidden’ Bonny Lass,
a did admire yea; Yea wir a touch o’class.
An’ ma few wurds Bonny Lass arrr’ nae simply enuf,
bit whit a hiv jist said Lass, is jist oaf the cuff.
Wednesday 21 August 2013
Two For One
Susan Kay
Bellevue Heights, SA
Shall I have a hip replacement, or a pair of rainbow coloured drawstring pants? Maybe I could have a knee replacement instead, then I’d need the pants wouldn’t I? But my hips are more trouble. If I got them both replaced I wonder if there’d be a discount? Two for one. And if they throw in the knees it might be really cheap. I should go to the free orthopaedic seminar. It’s just round the corner from the free seminar on buying land just outside Kakadu. On the same day, too. Just think, my own house up north. It’s hot up there though. My brother got ulcers working up there. And dengue. The ulcers were on his legs. Yuck. Suppurating. What a great word. Maybe if he’d used more baby powder, kept his legs drier. Still, he only had to have one amputated. They saved the other, although it has a big hole now where the gangrene got away.
Oh, is it 10 o’clock already? I’m going to be late. These magazines make you forget the time. Now where’re my keys? Oh I’m really late now. Ah … bathroom, I was putting on my earrings and, yep, they’re here by the sink. Floor’s wet, gotta get a new shower curtain. I’ll just stick a towel on the floor.
~~~
It’s cold in here. Must have fallen, silly cow. Something hurts. Got a bump on the head; hit the edge of the bath I guess. Can’t get up. Oh, shit! Something’s broken. Where’s my mobile? Downstairs. Bugger, bugger, bugger!