Posted in Perth City, Poetry, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Healthy Burgers, Poem on September 22, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Sister-in-laws and I met for a coffee and burger at Lakeside in Joondalup a while ago – I wrote this on the napkin.
Grill’d
Life moves at such a pace
But we don’t.
We have to order our hamburger
without the bun.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
#FrancesMacaulayForde #HealthyBurgers #Poem
Posted in 1968 Notebook, Books, Favorite Writers, Poetry, Writing, tagged 1968Notebook, CliffsOfMoher, Frances Macaulay Forde, IrishPoet, JessieLendennie, poetry, RosemaryCanavan, SalmonBookshop, SalmonPoetry on September 21, 2014| 1 Comment »
In Rosemary Canavan’s book of poems ‘Trucker’s Moll’, her dedication is “for my mother who started me off”. I can relate.
My mum also encouraged my youthful angst in my 1968 handwritten notebook, long before keyboards ruined my ability to wield a pen and ink, by putting a little (accountant’s) tick of approval next to poems she liked. Done in pencil – I hope it never fades… I treasure those little marks.
Rosemary’s poem on page 61 ‘Flowers in March’ was written on St Patrick’s Day in March 2003.
I too sat newly arrived in Ireland, watching that same parade on the television, in March, 2003 and wrote on the same theme.
Baghdad Ballet
A young boy sits, on his mother’s shoulders,
smile-excited in the sunshine, taking part
in a parade. He proudly thrusts the finger
-sign of peace. Nice to see in an Iraqi child
– family bombardered by ‘Shock and Awe’
the night before, apparently forgiving.
But the visual is blitzed as it flashes onscreen,
by the plastic Sten-gun held aloft, back-
ground brandished in the child’s other hand.
Do you think the young lad plays in secret tunnels,
knows where to hide, where doubles walk
to keep the myth alive, the magic tricks
to keep awake illusions of a still-controlled-city.
Streetlights burn in defiance of invaders largess.
Traffic moves through the night while
bright glows explode in distant thunder
shower shrapnel. We sit on green comfy
sofas, presumed warm and safe inside,
miles away watching the performance
on TV young Liam wears red and white,
holds his defiant hurely high – a warrior
enjoying the sunshine day parade
– a protest for peace in Shannon…
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
#FrancesMacaulayForde #RosemaryCanavan #SalmonPoetry #JessieLendennie #SalmonBookshop #CliffsOfMoher #Poetry #IrishPoet
Posted in Perth City, Poetry, Writing, tagged City Slickers', Frances Macaulay Forde, Perth City, Perth Poems, poems on September 20, 2014| 2 Comments »
(This is my handsome hubby loving his new city.)
Found this video of a plane landing in Perth in 2009… it shows how magnificent the Swan River is, winding it’s way around our coastal city.
Bask
Perth work-block inhabitants
cannot tolerate strike of sun,
exposure to western beams.
Tinted against brilliant light,
private selves hide in calm
shaded corners of enterprise,
covering their skins in suit black
to fade into a corporate culture,
with intentional severity
they gaze down on convention centre
white elephant surfboard roof
longing for blue coast freedom.
I say: “At the end of day, joyfully
cast off those dark business mantles
and bask in the glorious sunset!”
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2006
#FrancesMacaulayForde #PerthCity #PerthWA #CitySlickers #Poems #PerthPoem
Posted in Poetry, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Poem: Quiet, poems, poetry, WA Writers on September 19, 2014| 1 Comment »
I hear my world better
when there are no words
closed library eyes see
eddying images churn
before being controlled
writing a new narrative
It’s kind of safer than
letting reality intrude
chapters re-positioned
shaded recollections
able-body paradigm
altered to glimmer
I require the world to
turn on my direction
allowed in silence
truths register deep
interpolated origins
finally recognized
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2014
#FrancesMacaulayForde #Quiet #poem #writing #WAWriters
Posted in Perth City, Poetry, WA Writers, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, poems, relection, selfishness, WAwriters on September 18, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Do you think that those who
always insist on entering first
ever open doors for others,
offer help when it isn’t needed
or even look back ~ except to
bask in their own reflection?
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
#FrancesMacaulayForde #poems #selfishness #reflection #WAwriters
Posted in MOVIES, Scripts, WA Writers, tagged ArchangelPictures, ChrisRichards-Scully, Frances Macaulay Forde, Kanowna2010, MichaelFacey on September 17, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Locally made short film I thought I’d share:
Western Australian Goldfields 1902, A Police Trooper discovers he has done the unforgivable by fathering a child to a Japanese Prostitute which triggers a series of events that threaten to destroy him. Based on actual events.
Starring:
Dustin Clare
Peta Sergeant
Ben Khaw
Clarke Richards
Written and Directed by Chris Richards-Scully
Produced by Michael Facey
Production Company: Archangel Pictures in Association with Fighting Chance Films
#FrancesMacaulayForde #Kanowna2010 #ArchangelPictures #ChrisRichards-Scully #MichaelFacey
Posted in Art as the Spark, Poetry, WA Writers, tagged Art, Art as the Spark, Creative Connections 2008, Frances Macaulay Forde, poetry, Written to Art on September 13, 2014| 1 Comment »
Three poems written to the painting No 57, 58 and 59 by disabled artists Timothy Schraman, Dennis Goater and Vivienne Sharp sold during the Creative Connections Exhibition 2008.
Racetrack
The static audience is a smudged yellow blur
as my Formula Ford whizzes past the stands, in blue.
Around the chicane the red Ferrari takes the inside
and I glide past, pedal to the metal with a grin.
You won’t catch me – I’m every colour of the rainbow!
Tho’ purple blobs try, they’ve got no space, in my race.
Coral Bay
Snorkeling with rainbows
just past the breaking surf,
I see the red rocky shores
of the North West Cape.
Shimmering white sands where
Coastal Daisies, starflowers
and Sturt Peas grope to grip
harsh hot terrain in fighting wind.
At Easter, a hundred yards off
the bay, coral triggers upside down
snowstorms to invite gentle giants
from the depths of Tantabiddi to feed
whilst in my imagination I squeeze
the fish colours through my fingers
to paint pictures and feel myself
swimming with whale sharks.
Passions
a wide smile
weighted hugs
Pavarotti with
new food only
hide this red
cloud thundering
over my heart
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2008
#FrancesMacaulayForde #CreativeConnections2008 #ArtAsTheSpark #Poetry #art
Posted in Ireland, Poetry, Sketching In Ireland, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, impact of photos, Ireland, morals, newpaper articles, photoographs, poems, poetry on September 12, 2014| 1 Comment »
Written in response to an article in the Irish Examiner, 9th May 2003.
Front Page Impact
Was it right to show all those bodies
in make-shift coffins, lined up like
so many bargains at a boot sale?
What’s happened to our humanity
when thirty-three elderly people die
and the focus is on the ‘exciting’ visuals
of a train hitting a bus – slicing it in half,
reveling in the mangled mess? I said
the same about recent war coverage.
Am I the only one who cringes, every time
I see pain and suffering celebrated without
thought of the mother, father, brother, friend.
Or the lover, who may chance to see a half-clothed,
disguarded pile of damaged meat and bones,
and suddenly recognize a shirt or scarf or shoe…
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
Published on the net: Write Out Loud
#FrancesMacaulayForde #Impact #DeadBodies #Exposure #Unauthorized #Poetry #IrishExaminer
Posted in Books, Children's stories, Dance, Illustrators, WA Writers, tagged 12 x 12, Children's Books, dance memory, Frances Macaulay Forde, from my notebook, peaches&Cream, ThePeachPolka on September 11, 2014| 3 Comments »
Nearing the end of my 12 x 12 picture book membership for this year, I’m sticking to the rules for writing a story a month, setting myself little tasks to stimulate my imagination.
So I thought I’d share my latest writing exercise with you. I set the rules as; to write a story about two random words, I pin-picked ‘peaches’ and ‘dancing’.
This is the 1st draft of ‘The Peach Polka’, deliberately written without dialogue, an exercise in actions for illustration. If I ever get around to illustrating it, I’ll post those up too.
Nanna couldn’t remember what started it – but it was happening more and more.
In the supermarket, suddenly her legs didn’t act like they belonged to her body at all.
Sometimes, they danced away, trying to be somewhere else – without her!
Nanna couldn’t help grabbing whoever was nearby, to dance the polka too.
Waiting to pick up her granddaughter Sonja at school, she danced with the teacher.
What made her lose control – why suddenly burst into dance – at her age?
Today, thankfully, it happened at home. It was Sonja’s new peach fairy doll.
Long peach-y hair, wings of gossamer, she even had sparkling peach shoes.
Nanna and Sonja sniffed and Surprise! Surprise! The doll smelt of peaches too!
Startled Sonja beamed with delight to see Nanna twirling and whirling around the room.
It wasn’t long before Sonja was twirling too, in the new pink dress Nanna had made.
As the white spots twirled, Sonja was almost lifted off her feet with happiness.
Then she was! Nanna took hold of Sonja’s hands as they whirled and twirled together.
For Nanna, dancing with Sonja was a very special and perfect dance memory…
Sonja had the best birthday ever and never wanted the Peach Polka to stop!
#FrancesMacaulayForde #Peaches&Cream #FromMyNotebook #DanceMemory #Children’sBooks #12×12
Posted in Perth City, Poetry, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Perth, Perth City, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, words, writer, writing on September 10, 2014| Leave a Comment »
what are you thinking
where are you looking
not at me
why?
the times
insecure
scared
private
secrets held
hands grasp bags
pats wallet
life blood exists
reassurance
woman in track-pants
yakka green
hunt food
nylon jackets
eat and walk
forget manners
quickly – no time
lighter
hidden puffs
blurred singing
sadness
plastic rustles
stumble
life wins the battle
shame bottle
executive black
cash freedom
uniform success
yellow jewelry
sustained work
blood money
comfortable shoes
mushy cardies
link arms
coats in sunshine
meander
disregard fashion
first eye contact
traditional warmth
traveling through life
together
relaxed touch
look into my eyes
I exist
I breathe
friendship
I’m secure
the day is shining
I give
look at me
I’m whole
I’m here
where are you going?
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2000
* Published in ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ Ireland 2003.
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