University calling:

Well, I’ve really gone and done it this time 🙂 In my frustration at myself for feeling like a failure for achieving virtually nothing with my writing for three years (apart from keeping my toe in with Social Media groups and writing blogs, memoir & poetry), I’ve signed up for Uni!! Those who know me more

Poets Are A Weird Mob:

I get up before the sun, And before the household, So I can write poems for you, It comes out of my fingers. In reams. One day when I finally meet you, I will give them to you and, Unless you are a poet, You may not understand, The significance. You’ll hand them back, And more

My Magnum Opus:

“Is it? Is my work going to live? I wanted to be a writer, that’s all, I wanted to write about it all – everything that happens in a moment – the way the flowers look when you carry them in your arms, how it smells, how it feels. All of our feelings – yours more

Everything I know about writing practise…

I learnt from my mother: nothing, absolutely nothing stopped her. Not husbands coming and going, poverty, sickness, a house full of children, friends & relatives dropping off the perch all around her. The show must go on … she said 🙂 Thanks mum!

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Friends for life:

There will come a day, When all of those people who were there for you, Have gone – fallen by the wayside, And that’s when you have to make do with you And just hope like hell that you’re someone who you can tolerate, Because it’s a long, insufferable life if you don’t like the more

More Snapshots of my life:

 

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The needlework that I saw at NGV almost made me wish I did that for a vocation instead of being a writer :)
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Just so much detail…

A quandary, a quandary:

Hermits would rather write, Far into the night, And watch their words take flight. And pickled men will lose the fight, When they see that she won’t bite, She wants their sex, But that’s not right! Unless she slaves for them in the daylight, Dragging up their brats, With all of her might, So stick more