Tag: australian author

I’ve always found museums strange and otherworldly Down each hall collections of the past carefully staged behind glass In one stands plinths of ceramic artefacts, once a bowl or cup or plate  In another perfectly preserved species we systematically eliminated  Museums are a horrifying place with these creatures painful displayed…

Carefree in a tended garden a small child plays Running between rows of hyacinths chasing butterflies and bees A mother watches on from a shady spot under a swaying tree As little one squeals and laughs at her wild imagination Mother rests her eyes and breathes in the sweet soft…

You turn the map this way and that and stare at the ever changing horizon The paper distorts one way then another with ever changing topography It like magic but the fearful kind that pulls the earth from underneath you  The frantic worry from years ago has shifted into solemn…

I flex my fingers and curl them tight Stretch my toes and scrunch them close Seems so odd how important these are to me Loose one, the wrong one, and suddenly their even but the remaining are weakened   I flex my fingers and curl them tight Stretch my toes…

From afar it’s nothing but a ball of fluff on a stick in the wind But pick it and look in close you might see dreams within With a strong breath watch it disappear on a gentle twist of air  There goes the wishes carefully made off to come true…

Shutters once latched bang listlessly against the glass A splintered door hangs precariously from its frame  A shattered bulb swings and flickers over the sideways table The walls shift and change and bubble where the blood splattered  A shriek and howl, then haunting silence  Sometimes we don’t get a warning…