Here squats a sandstone city, its streets choked by motley cloth, Crowd River; bank brimming over toes tucked beneath dark waters cloaked by shade
Category: Poetry
Bonding
I. In the deep woods, the decaying and overgrown world, the twisted vines snap, frail from whips of wind. I am consumed, by the
Ardent Spirits
The effects of ardent spirits upon the human body and mind: Obstruction of the liver, Jaundice and dropsy of every cavity in the body,
Den
There are rats nesting beneath the stairwell bordering the doorway to our little shared house. Their little fingers scratch in the dirt, and their
All the world’s lights went out an hour ago – Renee Farrugia
The sky will be here soon. Parts of it have arrived early, embracing the outer neighbourhoods, Where the lawns were quilted in cockatoos. There’s
Talking Poetry: Free Verse on RadioU
The university’s very own radio station was formed last semester and features a diverse range of news, music and entertainment hosted by students for
Cafe – Mark Russell
Afternoon. It is almost the close of the quiet café– The boy waiting waits for the ticking of time. But the hope that
[ ] – David Allen
…¶ One,·two,·three¶ Our·mind’s·do·seize¶ Before·that·punctual·decree¶ ¶ Hurriedly·we·fill¶ That·confronting· ¶ Small·marks·of·a·quill¶ A·displacing·defence¶ ¶ Thus·from·our·sight·is·hid¶ Those·looming· s¶ L’appel·du·vide¶ Covered·in·present·sheathings¶ ¶ The·need·for·constant·movement¶ To·prevent·irrevocable·