Conundrum
By Geoffrey Gaskill. It began with three words in the night. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. Two lonely people. Three words. Spoken by one lover to another in the night. Now here they were in the park. Two of many, … Continued
A Chick with a Dick
By Geoffrey Gaskill. She wasn’t the most striking person I’d ever seen. It proved you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. She was new to the class and when she walked in she had a certain swagger, a je-ne-sais-pas … Continued
Nervous Seismographs
By Janet Baird. a. Ticking Time Bomb In Rabaul broad pink beetle-nut smiles adorn the faces of the fuzzy wuzzies; unhurried, barefoot, brightly adorned they seem unconcerned by 14 active volcanoes. From its eyrie high on Mt Tovanumbatir the seismograph … Continued
Otway Haiku
By Janet Baird. eager rush for gold multi-masted sailing ships groan with ghosts below London bridge collapsed one span remained defiant fierce Southern Ocean where once there were twelve apostle rockstacks standing only eight remain winter migration flukes flap, tails … Continued
Another Culture
By Janet Baird. Preface: In 1987 I visited Tonga. I hope it has not become too westernised since then or even disappeared altogether. Small black pigs with piglets in tow fossick at low tide for tiny fish and sea creatures. … Continued
Elephant & Castle
By Voices of Geelong Writers. When our members’ night was cancelled because of COVID restrictions for the second month in a row, we decided to take our creativity online. We invited writers to compose a poem or micro-story of about … Continued
Close Contact
By Janet Baird. As I leaned over the railing watching sleek bodies surf the bow wave with casual joie de vivre, one dolphin rolled onto her side and caught my eye in a moment of deep connection between two planetary … Continued
1967 Reprise – love is all you need
By Adrian Brookes. The angels of democracy dealt death to Vietnam As civil rights uprisings erupted through the land They marched the streets for justice, got cut down out of hand And Hendrix played at Monterey, the summer of love … Continued
Clearing the Land
By Adrian Brookes. A movement behind the trees. The morning was dead still. The mist had burned off, leaving the fiery orb to roast the earth at its leisure, and the bush, knowing the signs, had already slumped into another … Continued