dream of empty

in restless sleep as he dreamed the fire rose and swirled the devourer unleashed to color the skies red a storm wild and unbridled burning where it struck grey ash cinders and char in its wake in restless sleep he dreamed the fire flew in black and he knew an empty place within ~ Poem … Continue reading dream of empty

his potential

when he stood still just for a moment movement could be seen a stirring in the earth beneath … … around his feet then he would wriggle his toes a little move his feet in a sort of shuffle before stepping away always moving away from a minor disturbance of the earth in the vicinity … Continue reading his potential

Tawonga Huts (from hiking, poetry)

1# I will breathe the mountain air filtered sunlight through time through a dandelion clock inside myself rarefied ~ 2# here I am in the quietest place on earth only the sound of flapping wings a bird so high up I can hardly see her whispering a regiment of passing flies quiet hum a marching/flying … Continue reading Tawonga Huts (from hiking, poetry)

Review of Small Town Kid by Frank Prem

Thanks you to Mick Canning for his wonderful review of Small Town Kid.

I’m off to the mountains for an overnight stay in a tent tonight. I think Mick might enjoy that. Check out his writings about the Hill Stations of India.

Mick Canning

Small Town Kid (Frank Prem Memoir Book 1)

I have enjoyed Frank’s poetry ever since I discovered it a couple of years ago.

Small Town Kid is a book of poems about growing up in a small town in Australia during the 1960’s and 1970’s. The town is provincial, the way that small towns invariably are, where everyone knows everyone else, and everyone else’s business.

In those days, a small town was very different to a small town today, now the internet and social media have changed even the slow-paced life of these places forever. And so those of a certain age will recognise many of the situations and much of subject matter of these poems, while to those much younger they may well seem almost alien.

Rich in emotions, as well as in visual detail, we listen to Frank describe experiences such as hunting rabbits, letting off fireworks, and going on picnics, turning his nose up at…

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droving (the milky way)

hee-yah! hee-yah! I am herding the stars these recalcitrant stars across the wide black plain they are forming a line they are shining hee-yah! I crack the corded whip haa! I crack the corded whip haa! haa! haa!   hee-yah! Meteor! go round them up Meteor! make them line streak (you good thing) go around … Continue reading droving (the milky way)