tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87268507625907062882011-10-07T08:29:30.440+11:00We're poets and lovers of poetry who, since Bello Bards was founded by Marti Guy in March, 2007, have met in Bellingen on the last Friday of every month at 6:30pm, at varying venues. We are, perhaps it might be said, a 'moveable feast' as well as a travelling band of troubadours and their audience. We always dine together and anyone who wants to get up and have a go reading their own or someone else's poetry, is as welcome as those who just like to listen. Welcome to our online home.Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.comBlogger1291100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-56440574247374928842020-05-18T02:21:00.032+10:002010-05-31T21:43:27.977+10:00

  In March, 2007, poetry lover Marti Guy (pictured below) initiated Bello Bards in her bookshop, BellaBooKafe in Church Street, Bellingen (unfortunately now no longer extant), at some considerable expense to herself. She has been the Bello Bards organizer and hostess each month (last Friday of each month, at 6:30 pm) from then until the date of this post. So, thank you, from our hearts,

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-30827356370679194212011-08-04T19:17:00.003+10:002011-08-04T19:23:35.623+10:00

I am off to Nimbin this weekend to judge the finals of the Nimbin performance poetry World Cup 2011 ... and looking forward to being in a position of real power at last!! Mwa hahaha!Iain , Marty and I are off to Nimbin and looking forward to seeing what is on offer this year. My car was declared OK to travel ( I picked up my new (used) Toyota Rav 4 on friday, was rear ended on Sunday and it

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-84022987553983289082011-08-04T19:11:00.002+10:002011-08-04T19:13:06.035+10:00

Brian Birdman has organised a get together at the Bello CWA ... BYO ... gold coin donation ...6.30 for 7pm ! See you there!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-72538303369009537382011-06-27T15:13:00.000+10:002011-06-27T15:13:36.400+10:00

I've created a new page called About Pip at http:www.wilsonsalmanac.com. The indifference about me getting murdered in Bellingen staggers me, but I carry on, with a new poem called 'Jezza' at poetry.html.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-85530346815607161862011-05-30T20:24:00.002+10:002011-05-30T20:24:47.683+10:00

http://www.australianpoetry.org

Craig Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01609653175343812891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-77836914531983198712011-05-21T11:46:00.001+10:002011-05-21T11:48:57.074+10:00

Copyright c Fiona Kendall 2011Exuberance fades,worn down, lost,bureaucracy rolls over you,at great cost.Destroyed by a system,mediocre at best,face up to oppression,ultimate test.No-one before,questioned their motive,drug therapy, boredom,and the joke that that is.Could have helped everyone in there,they said it proved, you were mentally impaired.

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-24566544195855407662011-05-20T20:52:00.000+10:002011-05-20T20:52:02.116+10:00

Apart from Lizu's recent call for more poetic contributions to the blog, you have to dig a long way down to find any poems (and there are quite a few). Is it possible to have a sidebar that says 'poems' that takes you to the archive?

Craig Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01609653175343812891noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-36962879641317289732011-05-03T18:19:00.000+10:002011-05-03T18:19:23.350+10:00

Greetings! I'm a bit of a scribbler myself, as you probably know, and probably writing more than ever. I have an online links page at http://www.wilsonsalmanac.com/pips_links.html and one of its main focuses (foci?) is Bello, and another is poetry. Any poets with any good stuff are invited to go there and email me for a free plug (I hate the commercialisation of poetry, like most poets). My email

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-44223433271284508762011-04-15T13:02:00.009+10:002011-04-15T13:27:47.933+10:00

"The weekend (of the inaugural Bellingen Readers & Writers Festival) had many highlights but a standout moment was Friday night's poetry slam, which saw more than 300 (actually it was more like half that!)pack into the local bowling club to watch performances by poets from near and far. 'There is a real appetite to see this page to stage with poetry ... the high energy of the performances was

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-31569918120371174562011-04-07T12:53:00.002+10:002011-04-07T12:57:17.223+10:00

It would be good for this event to be a success, so that down the track there will be more opportunities for local writers and poets to air their work, promote their work and expand their readership! So if you can afford it I would encourage you to check out the program at www.brwf.com.au and pick a session or two ... weekend passes have not sold well so there will be individual sessions

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-50409447735479360312011-04-07T12:50:00.002+10:002011-04-07T12:52:48.040+10:00

Looking forward to seeing many Bello Bards and others at the Slam tomorrow night! It should be a rollercoaster of entertainment! 20 performers , some on standby as we had many entrants at the last minute. Be there at 7.45 for a 8 pm start. Cheers Liz

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-40902712599282683842011-04-02T05:44:00.000+11:002011-04-02T05:44:28.905+11:00

Memidex is a free online dictionary and thesaurus, best I've seen, and very useful for many poets. It's published by Serge Bohdjalian.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-73702790602318747412011-03-24T11:38:00.001+11:002011-03-24T11:39:45.288+11:00

Where are all the new poems Folks? Submit a word doc to me at lizr71@bigpond.com

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-11682179539107299352011-03-24T11:34:00.002+11:002011-03-24T11:37:04.008+11:00

The Bello Bards will be meeting at The Bellingen Bowling Club Saturday April 2! Priority will be given to those entering into The Slam to get up and practice their 3 minute poems!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-28257490322572839682011-03-24T11:28:00.002+11:002011-03-24T11:33:44.521+11:00

Well it's looking to be a great night out! We have 17 registrations for performance including Robin Archbold and Darkwing Dub, who will definately raise the bar! They are both incredible, dynamic performance poets.There also many plucky locals ... Only 5 women so far ...The organisers of The Bellingen Readers & Writers festival are also offering The Winner and The Runner up a spot at Saturday

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-23394432505855894042011-02-21T21:19:00.002+11:002011-02-21T21:24:36.146+11:00

This month we will meet at the Bellingen Bowling Club ... we want to kick off at 7 PM ... See you there!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-57134253820802690302011-02-16T12:07:00.003+11:002011-02-16T12:11:55.977+11:00

Rules:1. Poetry is original, written & performed by poet.2. Poet must have 3 poems prepared - in case they get through each round!3. Poets must supply Titles of said poems. (Poets don't have to stick to these ...)4. Poetry should be learnt and performed. NOT read (Poets will lose marks if they read, unless they are really, really good!).5. No poems that have previously WON in other Slam Events

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-25423657253387212522011-02-16T12:04:00.003+11:002011-02-16T12:11:04.427+11:00

The maximum registrations for the event will be 20, ten will go through to the 2nd round and 5 to the last round!We already have 4 registrations including the dynamic Robin Archbold!Remember you have to be prepared with 3 poems that are maximum 3 mins long!DON'T MISS OUT!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-2166695562835783722011-02-08T10:46:00.003+11:002011-02-08T10:52:47.196+11:00

Get ready for a great night April 8th, 8pm at the Bellingen Bowling Club! We already have a couple of registrati0ns for the Slam ... remember spots are limited to 20 poets, and you must have performance ready 3 poems , no more than 3 minutes long !! Tooo Easy!Register your details with Liz at lizr71@bigpond.com ( I just need name /phone/ email / address ). $10 payable on the night.Details about

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-77056181338862228502011-02-03T11:36:00.002+11:002011-02-03T11:48:32.452+11:00

Details for registration / rulesfor the Slam will be up on the BRWF web site in the next week, but basically you will be directed to register with me by emailing lizr71@bigpond.com with your details. Basically there will be a registration fee of $10 for poets entering the competition, payable on the night. Numbers will be limited so get in quickly; because it is all happening on the one night

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-90125659618965903322011-01-23T10:12:00.002+11:002011-01-23T10:21:54.983+11:00

Calling all Slam Poets !Bush Poets, Spoken Word Artists, Performance Art Writers, Sonic Bards, Punk, Rap & HipHop (sub)Urban Word Performers...Is poetry extinkt or are YOU a Poet of Distinktion !Express yourself! Tell your story, your way! Stand up and be counted!Poets of Distinktion poetry Slam!3 Rounds, 3 poems, 3 minutes max, 3 judges!First prize $500, Runner up $100FRIDAY APRIL 88PM, BELLO

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-29355148646056096202011-01-23T09:59:00.003+11:002011-01-23T10:11:14.152+11:00

The Bello Bards welcome any visitors and newcomers to the first reading of 2011. As usual it is the last Friday of the month. We will be meeting at 6pm Friday Jan 28th @ The Federal Hotel , upstairs on the veranda.We will aslo be discussing our involvement in the Bellingen Readers & Writers Festival which kicks off April 8-10. Elizabeth Routledge and Marty Guy will be organising The Poet of

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-73733788843712613442011-01-08T18:09:00.001+11:002011-01-08T18:13:24.420+11:00

Another opportunity for Bello poets!Anyone up for it?January 28-30 2011At Harrington – part of the Manning River Summer festivalMid North Coast NSW.See: www.poetsbythesea.comFor conditions of entry and Competition InfoPerformance and written poetry sections.Ist Prize performance poetry $700N.B. Entries close 21st Jan 2011

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-4055143414411736012010-12-08T12:22:00.002+11:002010-12-08T12:25:06.830+11:00

A big welcome home from all of Bello Bards and Bellingen residents.Pip Wilson is back home after many months recovering from a head injury.He will be back posting on the Blog asap!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-29141385072123801872010-12-08T12:13:00.003+11:002010-12-08T12:22:14.854+11:00

Marty is going to be overseas until next year and it is the silly season so the next Bello Bards Poetry Meet will be at the end of January.Also we are hoping to get up A Poetry Slam event as part of the inaugural Bellingen Readers and Writers Festival - April 8-10.At this stage it will be individual poets competing for a prize ($500, plus runner up and peoples choice prizes; but there will be 3

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-77016441516845395472010-11-08T11:50:00.003+11:002010-11-08T11:56:29.059+11:00

The NSW State Final is being held Fiday 19th November 8pm, Sydney TheatreRichard Wherrett Studio22 Hickson RoadWalsh Bay, SydneyAll the winners from slam heats across NSW will compete for a chance to win $500 and a place in the National Finals in DecemberThe winner of the Australian Poetry Slam 2010 will be awarded all expnenses paid invitations to participate in writer's festivals in Bali and

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-69784399608175526112010-11-08T11:48:00.002+11:002010-11-08T11:58:29.367+11:00

www.nimbin.com/poems/index.htmlYou can see all the finalists performing ! check it out!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-2711020252487968922010-09-24T10:29:00.002+10:002010-09-24T10:34:41.111+10:00

Yoga for the mind© Copyright Fiona Kendall 2010Rise from the ashesof your past,functioning, balancedwith open heart.Confident, abletrue believerconquoring doubt, lovingthe hand that feeds ya.Built a castlefrom the ruinsabundant gardensall your doin'.Glowing firewarms the soulhappy momentslaced with golderase the old, andbegin to unfold.Replaced with hopea positive mindgone are the blinkersin

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-67633347901665440402010-08-17T09:11:00.002+10:002010-08-17T09:16:01.345+10:00

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-74528862425335250002010-08-13T17:53:00.003+10:002010-08-13T18:06:52.042+10:00

There is another opportunity for Bello bards, storytellers and the like to reveal their talents to the world, with The Spirit of Woodford Awards and The original Stories and Yarns Performance Award … check out their website for details and application form… 5- 15 mins long … a CD or DVD must be submitted by September 15 2010. Finalists will receive a free Ticket to Woodford festival and be in to

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-1721267252244382772010-08-12T16:41:00.000+10:002010-08-12T16:44:02.927+10:00

A strong showing by Bellingen poets at the 2010 Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup was capped when Hydes Creek’s Elizabeth Routledge won the cup, or half of it; the judges were unable to decide on a single winner, and split first prize between Elizabeth and Sydney’s Tug Dumbly.The other trophy on offer, the coveted people’s choice award, was also won by a Bellingen poet: Craig “The Darkwood

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-83535190845691541142010-08-08T11:12:00.000+10:002010-08-08T11:14:10.079+10:00

While we are all delighted with the success of our local poets who went to the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup, our return to Bellingen was soon met with the bad news that Pip Wilson is in hospital.A foundation member of Bellingen poets, creator of this blog and a man of many interests and talents, Pip was airlifted to John Hunter Hospital, Newcastle, NSW, a few days ago with severe head

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-66184433703533192762010-08-07T15:13:00.002+10:002010-08-07T15:16:08.992+10:00

We will let you know when the NPPWC is up on YouTube!cheers Liz

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-68424514660659166662010-08-03T21:24:00.000+10:002010-08-03T21:24:51.750+10:00

Although I've not yet become informed of the results of BELLO BARDS at the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup, the grapevine tells me that Bello Bard Craig Nelson won the People's Choice at this event. This is a great and deserved honour to Craig and to our small but dedicated troupe of scribblers. I hear, also on the Bello grapevine, that Brian 'Birdman' Hawkins also did well. Congratulations,

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-12627110534041455882010-08-03T17:34:00.002+10:002010-08-03T17:38:48.891+10:00

I would just like to clarify ...for those of you who don't know me, Craig or anyone else on this blog for that matter ... I forget this is the world wide web... the comment I made about the Peoples's Choice Winner and the freudian slip ...I was just kidding!!!!

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-87406145664651842072010-08-03T16:19:00.000+10:002010-08-03T16:19:21.604+10:00

Controversy continues as the dust settles in the aftermath of the 2010 World Performance Poetry Cup. People's Choice winner, me, takes umbrage at co-winner Elizabeth Routledge's so-called freudian slip that my award was 'bought'. I can tell you, and Ruth will testify, that I went to Nimbin broke. I couldn't buy anything other than the goodwill of the audience and a couple of schooners before

Craig Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01609653175343812891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-42187621342340984842010-08-03T13:28:00.000+10:002010-08-03T13:28:07.086+10:00

Congratulations, Elizabeth, in winning The Cup. We are all so proud of you, representing Bello Bards, and for your own talent and voice. A word of explanation: I have tried many, many times to make comments on Bello Bards, usually in approbation of the poetry of Bello Bards contributors. But for unknown reasons, perhaps because officially I am the 'moderator' of this group, every method I have

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-15615556776958431892010-08-03T11:42:00.002+10:002010-08-03T13:11:07.491+10:00

Shock Controversy ! Cup split between two finalists!! Will they cut The cup in Half!No! Absolutely NOT! Elizabeth Routledge takes the Cup home to Bellingen, telling her co-winner Tug Dumbly that he's already won before so she has first dibs!No in all seriousness, I am thrilled and privileged that the judges put me up there with Tug who is a brilliant , polished and experienced performance poet /

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-7404332323498711972010-08-02T12:05:00.001+10:002010-08-02T12:26:36.215+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 When the sun is smiling and I am warm I feel a part of nature and I'm glad to be alive. And when the sky is cloudless and as blue as babies' eyes I love to feel the heat of day, I love to be outside. But also when the friendly sun is hidden by the storm and rain is pelting hard upon the flower beds outside, I'm happy for I know that soon the day will dry its eyes,

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-80148905521899380832010-07-30T22:21:00.000+10:002010-07-30T22:21:19.576+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 Chocolate sticks! Chocolate sticks! I love my chocolate biscuit sticks. Nice and tasty all for me I eat them all GO! ONE! TWO! THREE! Crisp and yummy Chocolate sticks I gobble them quickly FOUR! FIVE! SIX! They go so fast They taste so fine I bite them, chew them SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! I eat them now, I ate them then I eat far more than nine or ten. I’m just a little

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-46144098755946932392010-07-29T16:54:00.000+10:002010-07-29T16:54:36.853+10:00

A troupe of Bello Bards are off to Nimbin this weekend for the World Poetry Performance Cup. Looks like Brian, Craig, Fiona and Liz will be performing with welcome support from Ian, Leo, Marti, Ruth, Sally and Rosie. Contestants have eight minutes to strut their stuff through heats, semis and, hopefully in all cases, the final. So, barrack for the Bello Bards this weekend.

Craig Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01609653175343812891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-67501392559860015612010-07-27T12:41:00.001+10:002010-07-27T13:13:11.636+10:00

© Copyright, Pip Wilson, 2010 Dear Death, Please don't take any more of my friends. Cunt. Death, please, please don't take Gobbo. Illustrated man Gobbo, with scars across his chest, uninterrupted tattoos adorning his mystical face, and neck and legs and arms -- and, I'm told, also his man-chop. Gobbo, who has an astonishingly beautiful new wife (named after a daughter of Poseidon, but possibly

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-83108382156694907362010-07-25T15:46:00.002+10:002010-07-25T15:53:37.842+10:00

© Copyright Cherie Pugh, 2010 Well its bad news for you and its terrible for me: the Norvag's been abandoned to the mercy of the sea. We once crewed a gallant ship that sails my memory, the strong and beamy Nordvag, from the salty Baltic Sea. Brian sailed her to Toronto on his dream journey, and we voyaged over oceans from Bermuda to Fiji, around the Caribbean, across to Hawaii, from New

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-84460474347952517232010-07-24T20:46:00.001+10:002010-07-24T20:46:58.286+10:00

We had a poets' gathering around my firepit at 'The Ponderosa' today, last rehearsal for the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup http://tinyurl.com/2dlxszw. It's a good team from Bellingen. Unfortunately, I won't be going, but Bello Bards will do us proud! Contact me if you want details: wilsonsalmanac [AT] gmail.com. Put BELLO BARDS in your email subject header for any communication at any time,

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-3781306700499637752010-07-19T13:45:00.000+10:002010-07-19T13:45:29.266+10:00

2pm, Saturday, July 24, 23 Dowle as usual. Hope to see you there ... it's the last one before the Nimbin Cup.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-48862089238027282292010-07-14T14:31:00.002+10:002010-07-14T14:31:50.040+10:00

© Copyright Brian Carter, 2010 I am but a poor man in a world full of riches The earth provides me with many bright gems of light every day As I am seeking them all the time.... I look beyond the fake film of impatience, concrete and insecurity To the blend of hope, calm and tranquility of natures creatures and the busy and peaceful human being. I am in Bororen (Boroaren) on the Bruce highway

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-22549905635401695882010-07-10T19:05:00.001+10:002010-07-29T15:02:57.037+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, http://www. wilsonsalmanac.com, 2010 When the concrete sets around your eyes and failure's demon heaves heavy on your chest; when all is lost and bands of broken dreams obtrude your brow, may mother Moon wash you in her white beams till all your cells are young again and torrents of ecstasy whoosh! up your being. When dams of tears unyielding ache, for fairness isn't in

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-19075589016130870162010-07-10T19:01:00.001+10:002010-07-10T19:08:01.322+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, www.wilsonsalmanac.com, 2010 Oh this is what it's like sometimes oh this is how it goes. A wild colonial boy in the Bellingen 'Truman Show'. and this is what it's like sometimes and this is how it goes. And it's endless sky and it's mists of grey and we must do it again. And it's hi-yi-yi and it's hi-yi-yay for don't we love Bellingen? My first wife was the Hyde St

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-64479916144938420952010-07-10T18:49:00.001+10:002010-07-10T19:07:16.765+10:00

© Pip Wilson www.wilsonsalmanac.com, 2002 - ’10 "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." United States Declaration of Independence "O beautiful, for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-79454448778145556422010-07-09T17:56:00.002+10:002010-07-09T17:59:00.577+10:00

Check out www.fanstory.com and post your poems and other writing...ongoing contests, reviews etc

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-13419939585547402112010-07-09T17:51:00.002+10:002010-07-09T18:02:19.549+10:00

Bello Bards Meeting July 3, 2010Apologies for the delay in posting …(school Holidays and preparing for family trip to New Zealand !) …cheers LizAttended by:Marty Guy, Misty Hanley, , Fiona Kendall, Iain MacDonald, Craig Nelson, Ruth Powley, Elizabeth Routledge, Pip Wilson, Sheree and RussellAt 3pm we met around the pit fire in Pip’s garden. Fiona read excerpts from her intended poem for The

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-76489677677356684412010-07-07T14:55:00.000+10:002010-07-07T14:55:01.859+10:00

Those interested in helping to plan a Bellingen Writers Festival are invited to email Brian Purcell bgpurcell [AT] people.net.au regarding a meeting to be held in North Bellingen, Wednesday, July 14 at 5:30pm.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-69810768149079181192010-06-23T15:18:00.001+10:002010-06-23T15:18:38.323+10:00

Green –eyed.© Copyright Elizabeth Routledge 2005My lovers eyes are greenbut his soul cannot be gleanedI talk, I open, I reveal.I would give it all away…No … not my heart, not my soulwhich is well protectednot like Ned Kelly’s in 80 kilos of steelbut sealed in a net, like spiders threadsdelicate but strong.I feel. I feel.I feel our hearts beating.I want to peel away the layersand find the jewel.I

Lizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04942399456443093596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-30285204916740579162010-06-23T13:07:00.000+10:002010-06-23T13:07:01.754+10:00

© Copyright Brian Carter, 1991 It was 1995, the war in the middle east was into its 805th year There was nothing else to do but introduce the enemy to cricket. Thus the 904th round of negoriations saw the question asked... Do you want to play cricket? Winner goes home Loser fills in the holes!! It seems there was nothing left to do In order to resolve the fighting and end the war. Their

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-23192594153392534342010-06-21T19:09:00.000+10:002010-06-21T19:09:32.496+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 By beaches of white shining, where the turquoise tide returns the sound of children's laughter rings through eucalypts and ferns; the kookaburra answers with his old familiar song -- they will be forever young. The crystal healing waters from the mystic mountains flow; the wounds are sweetly mended where the herbs and flowers grow. There is a place not dreamed of,

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-23166617219623357352010-06-20T13:12:00.003+10:002010-06-20T13:25:39.750+10:00

Doorknockers © Copyright 2009 Craig Nelson I ain't here to tell you nothin', You ain't here to sell me more, So, don't come knockin' On my front door With you proselytising, Pontificating, puritanic crap, 'Cause I'll tell you what I think And you won't like that. We're not suffering today, For some 'everafter' model, You can stick that notion Up your arse and twaddle. Take all social

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-80792908955548963152010-06-20T13:11:00.003+10:002010-06-20T13:26:10.105+10:00

Kev's Ute © Copyright 2009 Craig Nelson Kevin has a ute. What does Malcolm drive, A roller, a beamer, Or take a taxi ride? I thought they had Com-cars, With drivers 24-7, But, it seems, to have a ute Is a liberal notion of heaven. The richest man in parliament Versus one with the richest wife, If Malcolm doesn't have a ute, He hasn't had a life. A touch of Aussie envy From an eastern

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-32117224789682787352010-06-20T13:10:00.003+10:002010-06-20T13:26:36.948+10:00

23 September 2009 © Copyright 2009 Craig Nelson The world is upside down When the sky is ochre, Desert dust shrouds us, And a joker, On the radio Quotes a boffin Who claims 16,000 tonnes of dirt Blow by every hour. An apopalyptic warning Of our wanton ways. The wind howls, Close the shutters, But there are too many And the clatter and bang Of windows and doors Leaves a land-lubber stranded.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-43068500352958094482010-06-20T11:10:00.001+10:002010-06-20T11:12:18.788+10:00

I'm sorry if you phoned apologies for being unable to attend the Bello Bards meet at my place at 3pm yesterday. My phone is on the blink. While I think of it, I should also mention that I have telephonophobia and rather severe tinnitis, so all my family and friends have known for many years that I would rather pick up a spider than a phone, and therefore they email or text me. I can't put my

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-82498196019979344362010-06-19T01:51:00.000+10:002010-06-19T01:51:51.852+10:00

Lyn Thiry, one of our crew, has drawn my attention to the Australian Poetry Centre http://www.australianpoetrycentre.org.au/ and that it is "running an online workshop offering poets the chance to develop a strategy for earning an income from writing poetry without compromising their style or craft. "The course will be run by Marcus Powe (www.marcuspowe.com), starting Monday August 2nd, and run

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-11940603447223885622010-06-18T05:08:00.003+10:002010-06-18T05:09:31.308+10:00

© Copyright Annabella Bray, 1995 what a living body of land Is this country that i love The gentle curves of the green hills Fold into each other Like the folds of human flesh So sensual, soft and alluring The fuzz of green trees nestling down Into the secret valleys The downy grass rolling over the slopes In this season of bare boned trees I feel the hard packed frozen earth Stiff and cold

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-74369274981765763422010-06-18T05:07:00.003+10:002010-06-18T05:10:00.157+10:00

© Copyright Annabella Bray, 1995 I want my soul to be stripped naked before you I want my Dorian Grey portrait to be exposed The hound dogs to sniff out my soft underbelly And leave the bones glistening in the pale moonlight And when the marble statue falls from her pedestal And lies shattered on the floor Take the handful of clay that remains And fire it in the furnace of your love

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-45950541822972435432010-06-16T00:25:00.000+10:002010-06-16T00:25:55.475+10:00

Please send your poems as attachments to lizr71@bigpond.com cheers Liz

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-30112899305637049092010-06-16T00:24:00.001+10:002010-06-16T00:27:29.873+10:00

Please send your poems as attachments to almanac [AT] gmail.com See 'How To' at http://bellobards.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-to-submit-poems-to-bello-bards-blog.html Cheers, Pip

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-64092829139362658872010-06-15T14:55:00.001+10:002010-06-15T14:57:18.079+10:00

Search without Struggle She sits, staring, out the window wondering about the future that never comes as the moment she's waiting for is always now, and always will be now. She feels as lonely as a piper playing pee'brokh as lost as a sailor without a ship. In her veins she feels 'Eros' and 'Caritas' she yearns enlightenment yet pulls the grass to make it grow. In her hands she holds atoms and

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-44304645726912551022010-06-15T14:46:00.000+10:002010-06-15T14:46:23.176+10:00

A Fond Kiss The taste of our first kiss Hidden, draped under The cathedral dome A giant fig draws elixir From the aquifer Deep below our feet Far from the villagers gaze. The shade, the leaves Dappled light The miracle that is your lips Orange, daffodil and painted twig Longing for tomorrows With prayers and bells Sweeter days September birthdays Presents of your sweetness Your delicious eyes

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-48693937725847172602010-06-15T14:44:00.000+10:002010-06-15T14:44:46.385+10:00

My Celtic Heart by Iain MacDonald Oh rowan tree Purple heather Raven's rock Celtic carving! I know you miss me Wait there patiently It has been a long time What has become of me? We grew up together I smell and touch you as I speak This thought may make the reader sad This is not the intention I had. I relate to quantum theory Involving strings and rubber bands In fact we've never been apart

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-52673481946344721072010-06-15T14:30:00.002+10:002010-06-15T14:49:48.369+10:00

Peripheral joy Peripheral happy, joy out the corner of my eye a humble affection accompanied my days whether in peace, anxiety or fear he was always there, a sideline of content by my side, always, a childlike always a golden blur on a grey day a wet leather nose flaring joyously at a multitude of delicious doggy smells the thump of his tail when I looked at him and smiled, even so briefly the

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-26112674483728552322010-06-15T12:07:00.000+10:002010-06-15T12:07:07.353+10:00

© Copyright Russel Atkinson, 2010 Though artists, architects, dancers, musicians and sculptors would no doubt object most strongly, it is my contention that poetry conveys the essence of them all. It is the supreme communication art in which all the others can be found. Poetry has the sounds of music, the colours of paintings, the rhythms and movement of dance, the fabrications and structure

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-18978563916023862762010-06-13T12:49:00.000+10:002010-06-13T12:49:42.604+10:00

© Copyright Misty Hanley, 2010 sometimes when it's raining and we've been far apart it would be good to have a chat it does good for my heart but you have phone a phobia and i am lost for words and so i have to write to you in order to be heard.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-20584728671001060302010-06-13T02:25:00.003+10:002010-06-13T02:47:32.564+10:00

Elizabeth Routledge has generously accepted the role of co-administrator of our blog, and has learned the ropes with the alacrity we all would expect of her. Welcome, Liz. Pip Wilson as co-admin will post poems (with optional copyright-free pictures if they are offered) for those of our mob whose surnames or pen-names begin with letters A-L; Liz will do the same for M-Z bards. Until further

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-47229853392953931182010-06-13T01:46:00.001+10:002010-06-13T03:00:18.154+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, November 3, 2001 till any date in the future unless otherwise announced When I was walkin up the stair I met a man named Tony Blair. He wasn't there agin today and he won't be there in the morning. Along come a man, George W Bush, Beady eyes and smarmy moosh; he's bombin from the Hindu Kush in the cold and snowy mornin. I looks agin and what'd I see, a dandelion as big

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-51055712101599265282010-06-13T01:35:00.003+10:002010-06-13T12:58:11.196+10:00

Greetings, Bello Bards and lovers of poetry, Expecting and organizing for some dozens of our mob, last night's Bello Bards poetry around the bardfire was, sadly, attended by very few (apologies were sent by Marti Guy and Steve Grey due to ill health), but we did pass some resolutions and also read some poetry in convivial circumstances. As the Winter Solstice is upon us soon -- "When the days

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-70230057593482649952010-06-11T02:42:00.013+10:002010-06-13T13:47:45.086+10:00

Copyright © Pip Wilson, 2001 - 2010 (To the tune of 'Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)' a 1948 poem by Woody Guthrie, later set to music, and popularized by Pete Seeger.) Since many a month we’ve heard not of uncle and cousin who walked to the Pakistan side. They said they would get on a boat for Australia where people are good and will listen their cry. Our cousin and uncle left home in the

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-38339299195559491252010-06-03T18:49:00.001+10:002010-06-03T18:49:42.647+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 I write it in cherry. You read it in berry and like it. The shame is that cherry I cannot abide. What shame you don't taste what I think or I write. And berry's a flavour I do not much like. How holy would be our poetical karma if only I wrote and you read in banana.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-75722359651626337622010-06-03T18:24:00.000+10:002010-06-03T18:24:05.409+10:00

© Copyright Fiona Kendall, 2006 Butterflies flutter, hearts do too, plans come and go, dreams do come true. Matters of your once shattered heart, rise to the surface, you wonder, how did this start? Right time, same place, when we came, face to face.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-62522052381043132992010-06-03T18:22:00.002+10:002010-06-03T18:22:46.012+10:00

© Copyright Fiona Kendall, 2005 Driving hot streets and lonely roads, lost in fantasy, each day, it grows. Standing round, the human carousel, reality dawns, then it begins, in real life, it's bottom of the bin. Worlds within worlds, many exist, caught between, truth and myth.

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-45659822301569043752010-06-02T04:17:00.004+10:002010-06-02T05:07:54.827+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 When I was in fear of losing my livelihood Because I came into work a bit tired one morning, And said to two of my colleagues, Who I thought were my friends, "Good morning ladies", And they railed against me most fearsomely, And hissed at me, and threatened to report me to Management, I, being quite a quick learner, quickly learned to say "Good morning women", or "

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-83738071953540502032010-05-31T19:20:00.000+10:002010-05-31T19:20:27.349+10:00

© Copyright Lyn Thiry, 2009 She is gone now by her own hand, we who are left behind gnash our teeth. The closer the blood the deeper the cutting, what if's and if only's muttered through shame. Shame that we didn't, couldn't rise higher, reach the last fragments of a mind we may still have recognised. Shame before our fellows, her lack became ours. Shame before our God that we didn't see the

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-8414089446818658852010-05-31T19:18:00.000+10:002010-05-31T19:18:03.906+10:00

© Copyright Lyn Thiry, 2007 Day saw Evening approaching. She began to flush pink, remembering their last encounter. Sometimes he would swamp her lustfully. No matter how hot she had been, she always disappeared willingly into his arms. This time he approached slowly, seductively. Holding her close, whispering into her ear, teasing her, alluding to the family jewels, sparkling and unattainable

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-5131679187478030192010-05-31T19:03:00.000+10:002010-05-31T19:03:12.792+10:00

© Copyright Russell Atkinson, 2010 From round to crescent, glistening bright,you calm daughter of the night,seem supreme, beyond our cares,sailing silent, your rarer airs.But as wife of this blue sphere,you are busy with your housework here;pulling seas and oceans about,moving atmospheres in and out,affecting the life of we clever fools,you govern the flow of molecules.It is you who know,when to

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-46798210156338261122010-05-31T19:01:00.001+10:002010-05-31T19:01:45.893+10:00

© Copyright Russell Atkinson, 2010 Stream clean dusk and reeds,High cloud, flattened back,To horizons gold beamed and purpleIn the autumn cool;Birds glide to shallow water-reeds to rest –Winged eddiesIn the chill crisp air.Others comeFlying through the thick quiet;Perfect passing like theSlow breath of sleep and fulfilled waiting.Wings rise and fallAway with the black forms flying,Slowly, slowly

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-84822212830148038912010-05-31T18:59:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:59:30.487+10:00

© Copyright Russell Atkinson, 2010 Dance the air with the falling leaves, The fruitful earth, its ripening sheaves Let the merry movements weave, About the arcane void where our hearts beat. Chant to the beat of the cosmic drum, While topsy atoms spin and hum, Rhythms, movements all succumb, To the silent void where our hearts beat. Move with the sea and the rollicking waves, Sweeps of sand

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-53445142089263344682010-05-31T18:53:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:53:42.759+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2008 On the road to Ballina, I leave before first light Stop to peruse a hundred books, on the way To discover the doings or beings of secret masters. The carpenter with calloused hands White witch, bare back rider with her book of dreams We knew each other in another life I saved a child from butcher’s knives She gave me shelter, others would not We even fought,

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-90171412688163290252010-05-31T18:51:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:51:03.470+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 When the concrete sets around your eyes and failure's demon heaves heavy on your chest; when all is lost and bands of broken dreams obtrude your brow, may mother Moon wash you in her white beams till all your cells are young again and torrents of ecstasy whoosh! up your being. When dams of tears unyielding ache, for fairness isn't in the rules; when mealy maggot men

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-15946329075244753602010-05-31T18:40:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:40:43.015+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald,2009 Thoughts of someone’s romantic heart Reaching Shiraz, St Tropez jazz Ruby red eyes reckless Cobalt blue, lemon and salt The spark that ignites She warms the mercy seat Learns to forgive, fragrance still lives Lonely raven sings, a song of truth Lifts the spirits of wounded hearts Curl the blemish of barren fields Deeply breathes and shines with crisp

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-16109575461560977432010-05-31T18:38:00.002+10:002010-05-31T18:38:37.212+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald,2010 How I longed for Love to fall from a tree envelope me, wrapped In poetry sprinkled handfuls of confetti flashed memories A past life of you and I lightly tightly veiled; Blue glass, sunlight, lemon tea your wrists your eyes your smiles I’m lost those eyes permanent invisible crossroads in time; Are we real? my heart says

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-353205924644521902010-05-31T18:37:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:37:20.730+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2010 The river hasn’t always been muddy. The river used to run clear. Tasted so sweet! Quenched the deepest thirst. We could spear fish, count pebbles with our toes. The dreamtime was a constant meditation. How do people know when they are being sedated? Freedom, safety, without control at ease without medication! Now we have a mono-culture nation hungrily

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-39276137893173571042010-05-31T18:35:00.002+10:002010-05-31T18:35:49.978+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2008 Envelop eating snail Underwater breathing fish Wettest garden scale How long the winds prevail Pine tree stance, high top mountain Strong against the howling gale. Philosophers and poets, artists entrenched town planners, all receive emails, niggling thoughts ‘To do’ lists, sliding scales Tomorrow Rego papers, BAS statements Birthday cards to grannies, snail

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-18025679646210455172010-05-31T18:34:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:34:04.795+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2009 These awkward days In lots of ways A light weight skylark sings Who owns the starry sky? After crimson sunset Torchlight flashes skyward. To whom do I belong? I have no faith I hope I am not blind I cannot see What’s stopping me From seeing The truth. Wading through the mists of time I finally realize what lies ahead Way, way ahead My destiny. Now at

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-68059043528105098262010-05-31T18:32:00.001+10:002010-05-31T21:13:37.565+10:00

© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 I'm glad I was born an Australian Not the clone of some lesbian Raelian; I'd feel rather weird To put dye in my beard. To an Australian, that's rather alien. I'd hate to be somebody's lackey Especially to someone so wacky As a shyster rapscallion Who wears a medallion And a moustache like some Boston Blackie. It's a picture that’s better unpictured, A moustache

Pip Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07986982118098061403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8726850762590706288.post-8584627117137286712010-05-31T18:28:00.000+10:002010-05-31T18:28:15.599+10:00

© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2008 This world, the one I love I understand, I am attached Bird song in winter's ear Happy blood runs through my veins. Sunshine on my perfect cat He always smiles because he knows Happy blood floods my Celtic frame I feel at home when I’m alone. Jasmine reaches I inhale Floating piano strains All the way to Christmas Island And back again All my washings hung out

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© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2008 Standing on wooden pins Warm inside, cold underbelly Fado springs from my radio The Atlantic shapes many shores My hearth dreams Of love and smokes Requests of elements Insects unknown Run Russian roulette In frozen moonlight shade Avoiding shafts of light Scented twigs and vine Trace sparing piano note Sift atoms of language Rest on pillows of

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© Copyright Stephen Grey, 2010 Last night I dreamed of a song already sung Old men grew younger towards deeds already done and winter frosts journeyed back to enjoy the summer sun After breakfast I accidentally went to work for a holiday A slightly puzzling situation; The train went backwards out of the station arriving yesterday I found my work my work already done I didn’t mind at all . It

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© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 Sometimes grief descends on hearts before bereaving. Thinking on my hearty sons can set my heart a-grieving that distance might divide us when my children are a-leaving. Sometimes grief descends when all around is shining. Venus fades into the day when Erebus is declining. And Jamie passing into James And Remy turning into Rem can set my spirit pining. Sometimes

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© Copyright Pip Wilson, 2010 Chocolate sticks! Chocolate sticks! I love my chocolate biscuit sticks. Nice and tasty all for me I eat them all GO! ONE! TWO! THREE! Crisp and yummy Chocolate sticks I gobble them quickly FOUR! FIVE! SIX! They go so fast They taste so fine I bite them, chew them SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! I eat them now, I ate them then I eat far more than nine or ten. I’m just a little

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© Copyright Stephen Grey, 2009 Oh to whom I am so grateful For the small examples shown by to you to me In those earlier years; which have now grown into Great signs too large not to plainly see. It was you dear woman who planted the seeds that grew and I who grew alongside them; and with them so totally enchanted Could I but see you now And talk with you somehow we would agree on so

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© Copyright Stephen Grey, 2008 (An Australian tale of love greed and terrible perfidy) Apologies to both William and lewis Shall I compare thee to a summers day or even a woman? Thou art more temperate than either And ,lasting longer, can’st then be taken lovingly in my arms as oft as I desire: Gracious when captured from the wilds of the breezy meadow Thou art less plaintiff and more down to

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© Copyright Stephen Grey, 1009 Dedicated to the right Honorable Lady Landrover We first met when she was about 43 a good match ,about the same age as me I knew at once she had to be mine A beautiful girl, still looking fine. There she sat unmoving; Abandoned; unalive Just waiting waiting waiting on the dusty drive I looked at her ,concerned, for quite some time She was dirty ,covered in a

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© Copyright Stephen Grey, 2008 When life is difficultUphill without ever a break It seemsAnd nothing enjoyable is being enjoyed anymoreThe only things left of value are your dreams. This state of affairs,perhaps unknown to you in your sad and weary aspect of mind,Is absolutely right and proper;indeed the way it should be.Do not complain for it is not wholly unkindBecause all you have is what you

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