Poetry
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The End of the Dirty Thirty
April is National Poetry Writing Month, or NaPoWriMo. I decided to do it this year, sort of on a whim, and then I forgot till 5 April, so I was four behind! I’ve caught up and now have only today’s and two more to finish the ‘dirty thirty’, as my friend calls it. I’ve decided…
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Ekphrasis?
For day 13 of NaPoWriMo I responded to a drawing done of me last night at the student union at the University of Melbourne.
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Comedy Festival – GO!
Last night was the first night of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival (MICF). I went out to see two shows; Mel Buttle’s Up to Pussy’s Bow and Luisa Omielan’s Am I Right Ladies? Two beautiful, strong, funny women. I bought this awesome Bumper Book for Boys, published in 1938, from Mel for 35cents. I’m looking…
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Modern Life
So much in life needs our constant attention Be a grown up. Upkeep and vigilance Nothing is said without equivocation Waiting to be put back in your place Be a grown up. Upkeep and vigilance Anxiety weighs on us, the millstone of a Saint Waiting to be put back in your place The struggle with…
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Sometimes it just doesn’t work
Last month I wrote a super angry poem for my poetry group. It was confused and ranty and not very good. I can look at it now and see that. I had massaged it so that I could keep a couple of lines I was really enamoured of, at the expense of content. The group was…
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Welcome 2016!
So, I went out last night with some beautiful people and had a bloody fabulous time, but now I’m feeling a little bit delicate around the eyeballs*. You might know that I don’t drink alcohol, but it turns out staying up late, jumping up and down, and then sleeping fitfully coz it’s really hot feel…
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Fiztroy Garden
I can hear the rumble of traffic The clang and clatter of trams While the soft, sweet scent of trees Blows past in the a gentle summer wind Sitting on the buttressed root Of some ancient fig Looking at the needles of the Cyprus And wondering if they belong here Our heritage of colonial conquest…
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I am That Woman
I am That Woman. I’m at a market with my sister I pick up a necklace With Frida Kahlo’s face on it. I put it back on the display wrong My sister turns to me, smiling, and asks: “What are you doing?” “Destroying the joint,” I reply, “I’ve been warned about women like you,” She…
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Self-indulgent café poem
I thought it would be best to give this post a title which describes the content. But first, a little bit of a run down of my Edinburgh Fringe Festival experience now that I’m more than half way through. I have written down the name of every show I’ve seen so far along with how…
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Poetry Group V2.0
Recently I started attending a new poetry writers’ workshop type thing…
Fleur Blüm 