Category Longer Poetry

by Robbie Coburn Almost burnt the pages and abandoned everything, striking a match and setting fire to the writing — that big book of your chosen suffering. you turned and left the paper as it was and stepped outside into…

by Alex Robertson Within Mt Lofty’s cooee Kaurna country (in part) Dreamings & imaginings Freeway lanes upon descent The tollgate of our environs Mind & attachment Going up or down the Ranges Geographical perspectives Interpreting the landscape To comprehend      …

by Robyn Cairns The family home Sixty-six orange brick Is full of sun Bar coded through curtains Onto green floral carpet Photosynthesizing under our feet Childhood orbited One hundred Wallpapered suns My bedroom window pushed upwards Inhaling spring jasmine Smoothing…

by Rohan Buettel The tragedy of great undertakings lies in their coming to an end. Constantine XI Palaiologus fighting at the city walls in fourteen fifty-three, dying while resisting to the last. What remained of fifteen centuries of a Roman…

by Helen Genoni-Farnham He was a very old man by then, stooped, with a cane and ready smile. Said he’d found it on a railway station in Melbourne somewhere. “I’ll give it to you if you like it.” I took…

by Pauline Cleary Shadowy, cloudy day; sprawling trees mesh together in a canopy. I crouch amongst the sprawl of asparagus fern; sticky, invasive, conquering. On my knees, I slither into the undergrowth, seizing handfuls of weeds, ripping them from their…

by Suzi Mezei The lithe dog is tethered to a post, where other lithe dogs with lineage are also tethered under the lemon-tinted arches of a mall, where shops and office space reach up towards sapphire sky, where humans prowl…

by Maria Bonar Delicate, feminine adorned with sparkling sand and shell grit A flotilla of tiny shells like babies’ fingernails cling to you When the tide surges you become your own coracle float on the waves, upside down wedded to…

by Stephanie Powell there is our front roomthe grey-green chair that rocks, its soft fabriclight from the router turns herface blue, a strange torch in those new eyes                                        hey, hey, hey,i hush to my baby. My baby as though i…

by Rob McKinnon In sweltering beds, the restless toss searching for sleep avoiding them, air conditioners and fans hum and clatter moving hot air around heated rooms. Somewhere in the searing housing estate, a lone dog howls miserably which rumbles…