Tag: bronte
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Poetry pack number 9
Back in the cafe village by the sea for a while. For a short time, I read poems semi regularly on the community radio station Bondi Radio. Once I was asked to write a poem about hindsight, and one about Halloween. Here they are. Blue days. Conversations and thoughts about depression, triggered by a sense…
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La Donna Maria
Until about three years ago I had been living for twenty years in a small beach-side suburb not a million miles away from Bondi Beach. This poem is an attempt to pay recognition to a wonderful woman who has been living there on the beachfront for far longer than me. Everyone is touched by her.…
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Nightclubbing
Riding the night club juggernaut In our smoky minds … Spilling out of Cornucopia We wandered the party nightscape Before checking out Hysteria Peering into Myopia Then settling for Fantasia for a while Moving on as the night grew hazier We forgot about Amnesia Something fishy about Miasma Dystopia was too crowded Landed in Nirvana…
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My New Hat
I won’t go back to Nebraska She said as she sold me a hat There’s more of the world here in Newtown And that, my man, is a fact The hatband grabbed my attention Rasta red, yellow and green Then the shape, pattern, colour and pricing Completed the hat of my dreams Perfectly weighted for…
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When Dad had a stroke
Tidying up before you go OBE (Over Bloody Eighty) Tripping through your roots Back home on family soil Touching base with sisters and bro Measure your survival in memories England Scotland Ireland Wales Your Four Nations tour With your loved one by your side O lucky man, To have a second chance and get it…
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Bronte Midnight
Water darting in the rockpools Quicksilvered by the moon Rugged raggedy waves roar In the nooks and crannies of the stalwart stones A crinkling luminescence Pulses on the horizon just off Bondi As a darker poem struggles Beneath my hurt and aloneness for the breath of life
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Remembering Mankavitch
Gary K. Mankavitch: Spiritual Detective More than twenty years have whipped by since Max Thrower and Phil Muscatello opened an Audio production house in a room in a dodgy men’s boarding house in Darlinghurst. They called themselves “Really Really Big Productions” because they were so small. (That’s irony for those of you up the back…
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THE CAFE VILLAGE BY THE SEA
Summer In the café village by the sea, Angels live among us, Held dear to my heart, Spreading warmth and joy. As do the bouncy, smiling sirens Flitting between the Bays. From the Admiral’s to the Soldier Poet’s Sharing comforts of a kind. Alas, their song no longer confounds Adventurers needless of earplugs or restraints…