Poems
The Fisherman Fugues
The Fisherman Fugues Fugue 1 I think the old people still walk along the shoreline here, listening to the gentle lap lap of the wavelets
13/10/2024
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The Fisherman Fugues Fugue 1 I think the old people still walk along the shoreline here, listening to the gentle lap lap of the wavelets
This poem, written a couple of years ago, invokes my Primary School Christmas parties held in the heat of an Australian summer. There were no
I I find my past in another man’s poem, where the forgotten dead are named. It was in the days of uniforms, pressed trousers, blue
The fishing camp ghosts have changed over the years. I have recently completed the manuscript of a novel that I have given the working title
Travelling in Argentina Three years ago, this winter, I was in Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina. I went on a night time guided tour
The towns on the South Maitland Coalfields of NSW have a lot of associations between various mining regions of the United Kingdom. It is not
A Familiar Place You might not know its name, but you’ve probably seen Bamburgh Castle in a movie or on a television program. It is
A Quick Visit to East Coker. The ashes of the poet T.S. Eliot are kept in St Michael’s a church in the small Somerset village
The Joy of Shared Houses. For a couple of years in the mid nineteen-eighties I lived in a shared house in the inner-city Newcastle of
Casa Isla Negra. In 2019, when I was in Chile, I visited Pablo Neruda’s grave located at his favourite house on the Chilean Pacific Coast.