Snapshot Poetry #9—A Poem and A Painting
Instead of my usual blog, today’s post is a poem by a young Perth writer—my son, Sam*. I loved this poem about the Swan River. I loved the sense of darkness that pervades it—the clouds, the ‘looming’ city, the shadows, the houses trapping the river,...
Snapshot Poetry #8—Graveyard Dreams
I posted this snapshot poem on my Facebook page a few weeks’ ago, but I’ve since slightly changed the wording. To tell the truth, I went back to the original wording, as it came out of my brain and onto the page. Sometimes tinkering with the words spoils...
Snapshot Poetry #7—Soft Dawn
I took this photo with my phone at about 5am, facing west, with the sun rising behind me. The sky had a soft, muted appearance, but the air was thick and humid, and thunder rumbled periodically. There was a heavy sense of foreboding, as if something ominous was about...
Snapshot Poetry #6—This Vast Country
This week’s snapshot poem: Not only this country, but the whole globe is smaller these days, and certainly looks it from way up there …
Snapshot Poetry #5—If I Could Turn Back Time
Snapshot Poem #4 is not really a poem, but some thoughts. Take a moment to ponder my beautiful words and imagery … Finished? Good. Now, for something completely different, here’s Cher’s ’80’s hit of the same name:...
Snapshot Poetry #4—Childhoods Cushioned With Green
A quick snapshot poem this week: It’s not often these days that I get to take my children to a park, or to the beach, or to anywhere with wide open spaces close to nature. Their days are so heavily scheduled:...
Snapshot Poetry #3—My Father’s Hands
These hands held mine each Sunday night and clipped my nails, while I wriggled and watched the clippings fall like sawdust into the crease of the newspaper. As broad as the spades they pushed through the dirt, they hammered and sawed, patched...
Snapshot Poetry #2—Privileged Moments
I’ve used the word privilege before when talking about being a doctor, because there are many privileges afforded the medical profession. Doctors share people’s lives in a way few other professions do. We witness intimate and private moments normally...