By Kat Skarbek Black Country England in the 1960s was anything but swinging. It was a place of dirt and hard labour and sweat. The streets were full of terraced houses, knitted together in red brick rows, pulsing with the … Continued
Image: Distillate of Tears by David Jones emicimages.com By David Jones This poem is from my book, The Taken, a series of photos and poems to highlight the trauma of our Stolen Generations. DISTILLATE OF THE DETAINED They quailed … Continued
Where you live, by Jo Curtain SEE—THERE! ADRIAN BROOKES Out from these walls I release you, my soul, Into realms of blue eternity, Where no-one can know what you see except me— And high as you alone can soar, Far … Continued
WINTER SOLSTICE GUENTER SAHR This winter solstice sounds like fun, more time to drink goonies after dark on a bench in a cold, cold city park. * STONEHENGE TABITHA THOMPSON To walk amongst the magic That is the towering … Continued
By Deborah Hunniford. Only yesterday, walking in Geelong West, I stopped to smell the roses. Behind lace curtains a shadow twitched, as if it had been lying in wait for me. I stiffened to form an exaggerated bow, hands tucked … Continued
By Olga Hogan. ‘Don’t walk backwards!’ she tells me. We’re coming home from the lake. It is late spring and the lilac trees lining the path are in full bloom. The air vibrates with sweet perfume, making me believe in … Continued
By Amelia Hearne. TRIGGER WARNING: THIS MEMOIR CONTAINS REFERENCES TO CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE. IF READING THIS AFFECTS YOU IN ANY WAY SUPPORT IS AVAILABLE: PHONE 1800 RESPECT. Picturing his face spreads darkness in my soul. It rumbles through me like … Continued
By Chris Hansen. In the morning, often of a weekend, the sounds of mowers could be heard as far as you might wish to travel through the suburbs. My father’s mower was a Victa. Tried trusty and true it kept … Continued
