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Poetry |
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Equal Amongst Giants (Edinburgh Literature Festival)
By Oz Hardwick
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I paid my money, listened attentively,
clapped politely, filed out slowly,
stood (vaguely embarrassed), waited in line
with book at the ready to meet The Author.
I asked him to sign my favourite chapter,
which prompted reflection on means and effects,
the pangs of creation, the fears and successes.
I, of course, nodded; complicit and sage.
Later in the book tent, with the cults and the classics
I found, shoulder to shoulder with the Bookers and Whitbreads,
my uncredited page in a best-selling travel guide.
I bought a copy and signed it myself.
Copyright ©2003 Oz Hardwick 2003
continued below
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Night Driving in American Werewolf Country.
By Oz Hardwick
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Too tired for driving, too far from home,
Hypnotised by snaking lanes,
I watch the shapes in gathering mist
Form in fog-lamps, and recede again
To darkness ...
Shake my head and search
For music or voices in the static hiss.
Futile.
Above the engine's hum:
Silence. It has been like this
Forever.
Days before the roads ..
Imagine I've slipped back in time,
No human life beyond this car ..
My thoughts return. I see a sign.
Yet, somehow, this disturbs me more
Than feeling that I was alone.
It says 'FOOD LEFT AT ROUNDABOUT.'
What can it mean? Do I want to know?
A headline from the local news?
Picnicking family disappears.
No leads, no clues, just abandoned buns.
A police spokesman says he fears
The perpetrator may strike again.
I wind the window tightly closed.
I grip the wheel, palms damp, eyes peeled
For roaming psychos on the road.
Or what if that's not it at all?
What if it's something infinitely worse?
Some sacrifice left by primitive folk
Held under an ancient, nameless curse!
Some meagre, first-fruit offering
Left to appease the Awful One,
This sign a warning to those in the know,
Its simple sub-text: Turn and Run!
Too tired for driving, too far from home,
Hypnotised by snaking lanes,
I watch the shapes in gathering mist
Form in fog-lamps, and recede again
To darkness ...
Another sign flashes past.
'ROUNDABOUT AHEAD.' I feel the thrill
Of the unknown, hold my breath
And pray to the Gods of the ancient hills.
Copyright ©2003 Oz Hardwick 2003
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by Lee Cassanell
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I could not be more obvious,
It echoes from my eyes,
I'm always semi conscious,
I can't help telling lies.
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My father was a butcher,
My mother easy meat,
I strolled the streets of childhood,
With sandals on my feet.
Read more...
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By Darren Sant
Excited young faces,
Stick thin legs and untied laces,
Breathlessly chasing the ball,
Youngsters large and small.
Read more...
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Poetry - "Chemical Love" and "Digit-ull Shitty"
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By Rich Mills
I double dropped before I went in,
Being searched by the doorman put my head-in-a-spin.
I pays me money and am through the door,
Head starts to bob, soon drawn to the dance-floor.
Then through throbbing heart and a tribal beat,
Two pairs of dilated rolling eyes briefly meet.
Read more...
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Poetry - What is a Friend?
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by Scott
Have you ever asked yourself, what is a Friend?
Surely it's a special relationship that'll not break but bend.
For you've known each other for years as mates,
During which you've got into some scrapes and states,
And over time recognise each other's strong points,
Confidences and deep thoughts shared over joints,
Are genuinely happy for their luck and enterprises,
Whilst lovingly empathising with their darker surprises.
Read more...
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Opinions - Refill Not Landfill
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By Cilla
What do you think about the price of printer cartridges?
I can't afford them. My printer has long periods of rest between bouts of frenzied use while the colours still give any semblance of anything other than black and white. The very idea of the printer being useable is a treat for the whole family!
Read more...
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Driving - Jo's DRIVING LESSONS
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Here I was living alone with my 3 children, my husband having just left us to cope alone. My eldest daughter, only just 18, was keen to learn to drive and I didn't want to spend a fortune on driving lessons, at least not until she could learn as much as she could from me.
Read more...
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