of passing feet,
flint-eyed scraps, tossed
nest of a broadsheet
one-eyed sleep in the underpass,
the ubiquitous predator
on the streets
He’s just a bird
is the breath between Continue reading
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Sultry African nights,
we’d drink Dutch,
(the odd bit of French thrown in)
Brightly hungover days,
with throwback English stoicism
Happy Festive Season, Fellow Bloggers
Best wishes for 2012
Hope to see you there, safe and sound
For some delightful Christmas-flavoured posts
and to see the most wonderful collection of ornamental Santas,
take a look at Nancy’s December posts
My virus checker has detected a virus in a number of comments posted in the last few days including those from Bloggers that have been visiting this site for a long time. Not sure how the virus has made it through WordPress. Anyhow, if you don’t find your comment here, it’s because your comment links are infected with a virus and, thus, I have been forced to delete your comment. I have reported the issue to WordPress.
WordPress have contacted me with the following response:
“We have contacted AVG about this and it was definitely a false-positive on their end.
Users will need to update following this guide to remove the warning:
So, it seems, it’s a case of an over-zealous virus-checker
Thanks for being on the ball, WordPress
and apologies to the Bloggers whose comments I deleted
who we are
in adulthood -
not mother -
a prosaic mosaic,
fragments of a self
but don’t ask me
to complete the picture -
time has lost
more than a few pieces
21 years married today -
cause for celebration,
wouldn’t you say?
Because it’s my wedding anniversary today, I’m celebrating my other half by posting some photos he took
on another day of celebration – NYE 2009
Sydney – NYE 2009
Sydney - NYE 2009
Sydney - NYE 2009
A place for everything,
for everything, a place,
but under the stairs,
it’s a mind-trash space -
memories secreted in dark, spidered nooks,
neurons rutted like well-thumbed books,
moody film-noir dendritic ends,
space-junk synapses, axonic strands,
dust-choked engrams, dreams, nightmares -
time to springclean under the stairs.
“ The next
train due to depart
.” first stop – Gliese 581 g,
then all stations to Kepler-22b
*** And thanks to Jo Bryant for this award ***
When it comes to rules, I’m a bit like you, Jo, but I’ll join you for some pirate tea
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I wrote this in September for Gabrielle Bryden’s National Poetry Week Challenge.
For more animal-flavoured poetry check out Gabrielle Bryden’s Penguin Week series.
I ask scribbly gum moths:
Why this graffiti on trees?
“Mind your own business,
they’re just doodles, if you please”
I ask a plodding snail:
Why the squiggles on the path?
“There ain’t nothing in it -
I just do it for a laugh”
I ask the sly hyena:
Why the tunnels ‘neath the trail?
“Well! Installation art’s
not only for the snail!”
I ask the bower bird:
Why that hoard of shining bling?
“Oh, poppet, it’s no mystery
objets d’art are my thing”
I ask the primping zebra:
What’s with the barcode?
“Poor darling, don’t you know?
Stripes are back in vogue”
But, you know, I don’t believe them -
It’s a vast conspiracy
It’s clear that they are sending
secret messages to me…
Stars in blood
In galaxies’ web
We’re spun with love
* I took these portraits of my beloved nieces a few years ago and post them here with their permission