Now that I finally have my very own Website I suppose it will be a good idea if I put something on it.

Being a bit of a competition addict, most of the things that I write have been sent out into the world to try (usually in vain) to win me prizes.

But this poem isn’t any good for prizes because it has actually been published. Yes, in a proper Australian magazine called ‘Quadrant’. Opinion pieces, often with a right wing leaning unfortunately, literature, poetry etc.

So we’ll start with this:

Cry baby,
for your trust has been sold.
Sold by pale men and paler women.
Living wraiths who consume your future,
as they kiss you and proclaim their love.
Such duplicity.

You are Isaac,
bound to cold rock.
Looking up in disbelief,
at the knife raised above you.
Your father’s hand.
Such treachery.

For you, no reprieve.
No fickle deity to spare you,
no trapped ram, nor feckless man.
So cry baby,
Screw up your eyes,
and wail the treason to the skies.

I wrote it when I was in a bad mood because we had just elected a new Australian prime minister who took a piece of coal into parliament and waved it about to show that it was harmless.

I’m not really over it, but I’ve got used to it now.


Reading-wise. Nearly finished ‘The Testaments’. I think it is very good, and a clever follow up to ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’. I love Margaret Attwood, but I don’t think this is Booker Prize winning material.

Finished ‘The Mirror and the Light’. Despite its size, an enjoyable read to the end, except for flagging a little about two thirds of the way through. I felt so, anyway. Then a good gallop to the finish for poor old Cromwell, who we had all grown to love. Even though I doubt that we would have had that feeling had we been alive in those times and got on his bad side. Brilliant writing but I could have done with a few less descriptions of people being burnt at the stake. Just me, I guess.

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