supporting local Artists
supporting local Artists
by Pauline Cleary When I reach the gate, the call of a mopoke cuts through the night, haunting and melancholic, a two-beat song, repeated. The moon rises, glowing and evanescent, floating on orange-rimmed cloud; tossed into the sky by some…
by Andrew Hede Hamas hostages massacre survivors in netherworld darkness initial helplessness descends into hopelessness ~ witnessing from afar brings deep sadness tinged with despair a young boy weeps beside his parents wrapped in white shrouds their home a heap…
by Andrew Hede gentle winter breeze ~ bees flutter among blossoms of golden wattle a faint scent of nectar a soft sound of buzzing ~ I reflect on the grandeur of planet earth a hidden grove of seven scribbly gums…
by Les Wicks My boat was an argument. Like all arguments it leaked when subjected to pressure, once dragged out of shadows was unable to endure the corrosions of the sun. It took some tacking a modicum of sweat but…
All New Life Showroom by Wayne Pollard On the edge of transcendental space life is. Neon moons allude to the entrance of the All New Life Showroom. A velvet starfish points to a room and slips those that enter a…
inlaid shells and stained glass saints embracing the light – a mission bell rings above souls at rest in hallowed ground St Barnabas Chapel, Norfolk Island
by Peter Roberts Y Niwl means the fog in Welsh Gaelic For the Celts, my stock, the fog made all unaware of time. Today the high country in Omeo is cloaked in cloud. Smokey greys and green. No sharp lines.…
wind-battered window – all week long a snail on the rattling pane while every train passes without you bent forward a boy and his father take off the electric guitar plate soldering-iron to the blue sky what is this the…
Keitha Keyes lives in a tiny house in Sydney, filled with her husband’s model ships and her many antique irons and trivets. She enjoys writing haiku, senryu, gembun, tanka, kyoka, cherita, sequences and tanka prose. Her work is published in…
two thousand yearsborne on the broken columnsof Ephesus –my feet at the grand theatrein the footsteps of St Paul Ephesus Archaeological Site, Turkey in the cornerof the white-walled rooma sad ficus…bright slices of outsideplay across the slow clock Specialist’s waiting…