Thank you to the editor, Jo, and her team, for selecting my piece in the Geelong Writers Inc. “AnoMaly Street”, Chapbook, Poetry With A Difference, Volume 2, No. 2
A Lanterne is a cinquain form of poetry, in which the first line has one syllable and each subsequent line increases in length by one syllable, except for the final line that concludes the poem with one syllable. Its name derives from the lantern shape that appears when the poem is aligned to the center of the page.
Hi dear readers and Especially my Geelong Followers, Come along to the Centrepoint Arcade on Friday 1st December, 5 pm – 9 pm, and say hello. I’ll be there at “Ivor’s Books” stall with my books “Tullawalla & Perceptions” and various other Anthologies and Chapbooks … they could be that “Something Different” gift idea for Christmas.
Hello dear readers and followers, many of you know that I have recently been diagnosed with having diabetes, and lately my general tiredness is becoming exhausting … and regretfully I will not be actively blogging with my normal enthusiastic zest … My recovery is a steady and slow process and I definitely need a break from my extremely busy blogging programs … hopefully I will be able to resume ‘soonerer than laterer’ …
Hello dear readers and followers, I am now writing for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “A Clear Blue Jar”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … To Read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> A Clear Blue Jar – Coffee House Writers
Hello dear readers and followers, here’s a re-posting of a poem I wrote in September 2017, and as is my way I have revised the piece for today’s Throwback Friday article.
A Distant Ship (Revised)
Am I afraid, or am I being slowly discouraged.
Dismayed by the emptiness in my wavering heart.
Am I consumed, or am I being bodily starved.
Eaten by the cells of my inner sentiments.
Am I senseless, or have I been possessed.
Devoured by the recess of my lonely soul.
Am I swimming backstroke behind a distant love-boat.
Drowning in the wake of the passing recovery vessel.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 