The smell of cowpats mixed with sun-warm grass and wildflowers, Rough bark and silken butterfly wings, Muddy lake feet and pursed lemon lips, Bonfire crackle and the cracking of crab shell, Crimson sun melting into indigo, And the cricket sings. The velvet night holds secrets and promises, Soft laughter and guitar strings, The mysterious clink of glasses, Skin touching skin, The symbols…
Category: writing
Poem: The pleasure of being witnessed
Nothing exists in a vacuum. Not heaven nor hell (if indeed such things exist at all). Nor you nor I. I do not dance for your approval. I do not write for your judgement. I do not create for validation. It is for the pleasure of being witnessed. I was here. I was part of this….
Sarah& things that are scary pt 2
Aaand part 2, inspired by this git:
Sarah& things that are scary pt 1
I’ve been crazy busy the last few weeks finishing up the second draft of my book about my walk to Berlin, and I did it – yay! It still sucks – booo! But now I have sent it off to my lovely beta readers for some feedback so I will have to put it out…
Sarah& the heatwave
Inspired by last week’s trials…
“Departed” – micro fiction competition, second place
My lovely friend Joe has started a monthly micro fiction competition where part of the proceeds go to charity, so you get to flex those writing muscles while supporting a good cause. With an entry fee of only 2 AUD and a maximum length of 100 words the threshold is really low. If you are…
Why I’m proud to be a failure
I have one of those some lines a day journal that lets you write a few lines every day for 5 years, and I’m currently on year 4. The writing space is very limited, and I admit that at least 50% of it is filled with mundane details like what I ate or how I…
Poem: I go to the sea
Where do you go, when you lose someone, You ask I go to the sea I whisper her name into the waves, and let the sea carry my love, the memories of things that never had a chance to happen, and the way she crinkled her eyes when she laughed, to distant shores so she…
Poem: A little bit more
A little bit more of you is like toast with butter and honey, A little bit more of you is like dappled sunlight through spring-green leaves, A little bit more of you is like the tang of salt and seaweed on the sea breeze, A little bit more of you is like freshly roasted coffee…
Poem: Hardcore self-love
I stand in front of the full length mirror, naked. I breathe in, deeply – the breath I’ve not allowed myself all day. I caress the swell of my belly, the rough cellulite on my butt and thighs, my hairy arms and legs. I trace each scar – seen and unseen, each memory. And I…
