Dinner had passed with congratulations all round for his sister’s success at her license test and corrections from his grandfather over his reports of the ridiculous song that had been inflicted on Philip in music class that afternoon. “That was ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’!” Pa had said. “Christina Rossetti and Gustav Holst. The greatest EnglishContinue reading “No Ghosts This Year #4”
Tag Archives: family
No Ghosts This Year #3
“Sorry to bother you, mate,” said the man. “I just need some directions.” Philip remained where he was but tilted his head a little towards the man. He didn’t recognise him, but something about the man made him seem harmless enough. He looked like someone his parents would invite over for dinner – though thatContinue reading “No Ghosts This Year #3”
No Ghosts This Year #2
The walk home was generally a relief. Mark caught the bus home, so he wasn’t around to be a nuisance. And mostly Philip had the time to himself, to think and daydream. Sometimes he would take a book with him and try to read as he walked, but that was a hard thing to do.Continue reading “No Ghosts This Year #2”
All our comings and our goings
Some wandered in deserts; I strayed Among Antarctic beeches and Bunya pine, Silver ferns and blood red soil, where I made Kingdoms and mountains from my trampoline. Some languished at sea; I saw an ocean Outside my window when the Easter rains Flooded the side path, and gazed at the scene In raptured delight. IContinue reading “All our comings and our goings”
Redfern When
As a child, I only knew this as the place where my grandfather was born, the name full of bright, fiery growth like I saw near home, our forests full of ferns both red and green. In history class I learnt this was the scene of old but living wars, fought, neither won nor lost.Continue reading “Redfern When”
Birthday Song (Apologies to Sylvia Plath)
Today would have been the 95th birthday of my maternal grandfather who passed away nearly nine years ago: a man who influenced me and my writing more than one poem can express. Still, I couldn’t let the day pass without acknowledging it in some way, especially while I’m in the midst of writing about myContinue reading “Birthday Song (Apologies to Sylvia Plath)”
Memory in Rain
Essendon is drenched today. On Albion And Buckley where my Granddad learnt to walk, To talk, lies last night’s deluge in puddles, In screen of watery sheen, while vermillion Morning climbs the eastern sky. When we talk Of heritage, does it sit in huddles Like these? old buildings nestled in new ones And the streetsContinue reading “Memory in Rain”
My childhood with Sting
Well, he once rhymed “cough” with “Nabakov” and poetically asked, “Hey Mr Brontosaurus, have you got a lesson for us?” And now Sting has unknowingly inspired my latest writing project. The inspiration came via this TED Talk and interview he did in 2014 about how he overcame writer’s block. What was Sting’s answer to hisContinue reading “My childhood with Sting”
Home
It snowed the week I was born; my brother and sister, fresh from Sydney, harvested July joy with tingling fingers, gathered what they could in eager clumps and pressed it like ice cream into a punnet, to freeze and store for future days. Being born late I missed the fun, but days of ten degreesContinue reading “Home”
On the Twelfth Day of Christmas
For most people, Christmas is now over. The supermarkets are already stocking hot cross buns. But in the traditional church calendar, today is the last day of the season of Christmas – a season lasting twelve days, as we remember in the old song. Why remember Christmas for twelve days instead of one? If nothingContinue reading “On the Twelfth Day of Christmas”
The Consolations of Writing 