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Turning the Page

.

You were focused

on study so I

waited,  peeking

through the crack,

watched you turn

a page, rushed

to kiss you quick.

.

I twirled to leave,

let you get back to

reading but you held

my gaze, turned

the page again and

again, and again

.

until I kissed

you again and

again, and again…

.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003

 

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Before you…

.

I slept in a bed without creases

only pulled up sheets to straighten

smooth – no effort at all

ready for the next Dreamtime.

.

Now I love my wrinkles…

.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2006

 

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At lunch with a friend last week,  someone I hadn’t seen for many years stuck her head around the corner; Joan’s sister.  She looked so genuinely surprised and pleased to see me I was quite taken aback!

We’d never particularly been friends but I had been very close to her sister, until we lost touch nearly 20 years ago.

After a hug I was told exactly how Joan had passed away within a couple of years of our losing touch, correcting my long-held and erroneous belief that she was so depressed she’s taken her own life.

The truth was not exactly as I had suspected but she definitely suffered with a broken heart; such a sad and lonely ending for someone who gave so much to others.

Standing in front of her still-grieving sister, I felt very guilty for not making more of an effort to see her, before her life soured.

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In the very early 1990’s Joan Medlicott started a small community group operating with enthusiasm, zero budgets and a fun atmosphere up here, in the Northern suburbs of Perth.  Most of the members were there for a good time and for three years, it really was a lot of fun to be involved.  

Our first performance was 3 x 1 act plays at Ocean Reef Senior High School’s theatre.  I did costumes, make-up, programs and tickets while my daughter helped with props and appeared in the hilarious ‘It’ll be Alright on the Night’ – her first acting role.

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(Curtains from the local Op Shop made reasonable dresses I thought…)

Then came a few Cabarets upstairs in The Mullaloo Tavern, right on the beach, doing skits and murdering favorite songs – but the drinks and the camaraderie saved each performance.

Our next serious performance was the Hammersley Recreation Centre ‘A Parade of Plays’ again 3 x 1 Act plays to make sure as many who wanted to act, got a chance.

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(Sorry I haven’t scanned the photos from this performance yet.)

I directed ‘Monday to Friday’.  My daughter Jessica McCallum was a very good actress but hated being on the stage.  I couldn’t cast anyone else because she was perfect for the role, so she overcame her nerves and took the part for me.

However, Angela Bray was magnificent  as Thursday.  She was so nervous on the first night, to give her  Dutch courage, she had one too many champagnes…

Naturally, as Director I also became a little more than concerned when she stood in front of me and offered her lipstick saying; “I can’t find my mouth”.

She looked perfectly alright but was totally somewhere else!  All I could think of were how many important lines she had and how she’d been word-perfect in rehearsal!

But I needn’t have worried – Angela didn’t miss a single cue or drop a word.  She did however drink and share around the Props Port while she delivered with perfect ease and timing – her face when the bottle was empty was an absolute picture.  The whole performance was conducted perfectly and totally in character.

If there’d been an Oscar available – Ange would have received it with my blessing and eternal thanks!

We’d grown in confidence and wanted to do a longer project – a play with 3 acts.  We also needed to try and add funds to our pot to get better equipment and cut down on hire fees.

The pantomime Joan had written called ‘It’s a Prairie Tale’ meant everyone could be involved, it also incorporated musical numbers and therefor the cast had to ‘dance’ a little too!  Again, I did many of the costumes, programs and tickets, while my daughter worked on her first love – props and staging as well as acting a small part.

It really was a case of all hands on deck – all of us did things we’d never attempted before or in many cases since.  Bit like film-making really…on a zero budget too!

A significant challenge but hopefully one which would appeal to many and put bums on seats – not just our family and friends cheering us on but the general public as well.

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The pantomime was fun and surprisingly somewhat of a success but although I thought it would bring everyone together, unfortunately the worms were turning.

Some expressed the opinion they wanted to be more serious (now their egos had grown with their confidence) so the group’s next project was a very well-known, tried and true English play called ‘The Anniversary’.

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The group asked me to direct and I’m happy to say the cast and crew of ‘The Anniversary’ did a wonderful job.  It was the group’s first SOLD OUT play and actually made money for  us.  

One member had decided she wanted to be in charge of the group and proceeded to denigrate and dismiss everything Joan was or wanted for the group, worrying and working behind the scenes until she had her way and turned everyone against Joan.  The bitchiness got too much for me so I resigned as soon as the play was done.  

I wanted to start a Youth Theatre Group for 12 – 25 year-olds because I felt there was a need for one – and I was right (but that’s another story).

In the 80’s I’d been involved in film and knew the value of documenting things so during the years I had done just that; I’d taken photos and recorded video (or got someone else to hold the camera) as often as possible.

And nearly 20 years later when I’d told her sister that I’d only been looking at video of Joan, tears came to her eyes.  

Although it had been more than ten years since her loss, the grief was still very raw.  (I don’t think we ever stop grieving, we just learn to cope better on a day to day basis, until someone reminds us.)

Because I’d recently converted some of the old VHS tapes of the plays to DVD,  it felt really good to be able to share moments with Joan which her sister hadn’t been part of.  

A reminder of earlier days and fun times when Joan was in her absolute element organizing performances for the theater group she’d poured her heart and soul into – until they kicked her out!

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Although I was invited to the inaugural Avon Valley Writer’s Festival last year, to speak and workshop with my screenwriter’s hat on, I wanted something tangible for the audience to purchase so (as mentioned previously) self-published three small books.

Since writing the poems in 1998-2000 on the train between the Northern Suburbs, to the City of Perth then on to University in Mt Lawley, they appeared in my first book published in Ireland ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ and more recently re-assessed and ‘tweaked’ to appear in the stand-alone chapbook for sale.  Some pieces have also appeared variously in publications and on the net.

Now I’m hoping to give it yet another life, to convert the chapbook to an e-book for purchase on-line.  Any suggestions?  The service at Amazon has been recommended although I’ve been told not to expect ‘many dollars’ it’s a chance for many to see the poems and a whole new experience for me so I’ll have a look at it.  As I’m not really clever technically, I’m looking for something laywoman easy 😮

Meantime I thought I’d share a story and poem from the book just in case you wanted to investigate further either by purchasing a hard copy from me  or perhaps later an e-book from Blurb, Issuu or Amazon.  These are the first couple of pages:

Edgewater Station, 7.45am.

 The first time I climbed the ramp to cross the empty freeway I thanked my daughter’s advice for nervous, first-time train-travel.

“Don’t make eye-contact and take something to read.”

Embarrassingly unfit; I was truly unworthy of riding to city steeples and naked greed.  However, I was able to slow my breathing before reaching the platform, populated by corporate black.

Like others in smart casual I waited unprepared, searching and praying that I had correct change.  No way would I approach anyone to help if my Target Special revealed only notes.  An extra minute to read the zones and I felt their impatience stab my shoulder blades.

First rule: be prepared.  Why doesn’t someone press the ‘Next Train to Perth’ button?  How long have I got?  Finally, the clunking use of coins and metal spit of ticket, loudly confirmed my lack of railway sophistication.

As I claimed my waiting spot, the gentle morning sun warmed my arms and I began to relax.

My head moved left to spy an approaching train. Then swung right, to relax the tension.  The violent clash of eyes focussed on the anticipated train, brought heat and colour flooding to my face.  Have I broken another rule?

I turned away. Moved left and slid around to a corner bench, hiding under graffiti steps.

A cleaner diligently wiped the dead remains of habit from a shiny steel surface.  As our eyes met, she smiled in understanding. My isolation lifted with the corners of my mouth. “Good morning.”

A distant sparkle from Joondalup Tunnel caught my attention.  Although I had lost my place for the central carriages, I joined the stragglers just as the last door swept toward my flat comfortable-s.

The unsmiling silent wave surged toward the precipice, eager to rest their feet or continue sleep.  We were swallowed with a whoosh.

All around people take off their Sunnis and don clear glass, casually opening their oft-thumbed pages: Time magazine, corporate handouts, New Idea, ‘Bondage – a love story’ the latest Patricia Cornwell…

I am starting my own new adventure – a new life.

No husband ~ he’s decided to share his bacon with a younger model.

No children to care for – they’ve all moved out, no-one who needs me, just me.

So I’m dealing with the empty nest, taking my new life into a different direction ~ a city job direction.

The first day of my new life: new job; new me.  Is it obvious?

No one speaks, except the odd un-sophisticate, who broadcasts gossip as if it elevates them.

I lose myself in Harry Potter and block out the other occupants, cocooned against intimidation.

Priority Seating.

Chivalry’s not dead.

Young man offers an older

person his seat, but

not the young lady. He stands

silently, matching her sway.

 

Freeway Sprawl.

relaxed – half asleep

compassionately floating past

overheated motors crawling

without air-conditioned silence

forced to queue as road workers

widen a future path.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013

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12May24WaldecksNursery (3) For too long, I’ve ignored this blog totally unsure of how to proceed but yesterday, I plunged and wrote about Self-publication.  Well, I’ve had such lovely people sign on to follow me I’m now enthused and confident enough to do another post – the day after the last!  So here goes… One of my new followers is Charlotte Hoather with the voice of an angel, who welcomes readers to her blog via a message about following her dream.  So I thought I’d post a little piece I wrote  when a poetic friend and I met for lunch at a local garden center cafe and were discussing dreams.  As we left, these colorful sculptures captured my poetic sense of humor – the metaphor was too good to waste.  Enjoy!

Pigs might fly…

Who says they can’t?

Is there an omniscient

oinker monitor float-

ing in the same tree?

Who has the right

to tell watchers

who dream

the impossible

that pigs might…?

In deepest despair

we need hope,

need dreams

to fall back on.

A competitive spirit…

Who says we can’t?

I need to soar

above my world

sometimes, believe

there’s something

sizzling just

around the corner,

if I could only see ~

take a butchers

into the future

and grab

a curly tail…

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2012

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I spent 14 glorious months living and learning everything I could in the ‘Cradle of Storytelling’, Ireland.  I became a member of  Munster Literature Center in Cork and attended inspiring weekly workshops with masters of poetry and short story.  I also joined the Midleton Writers Group and attended their monthly meetings, welcomed warmly by local writers.  Anne, Joan and Mary shared many an inspiring pub lunch and writerly discussion.

The opportunity to publish my first book of poems arose and I took great advantage. The book was very well received and reviewed and I thank all those who encouraged me to go ahead, particularly my partner Padraig.  Cover 'Hidden Capacity ~ a poet's journey'

Cover ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’

Since returning to Perth, I’ve had the self-confidence to publish more:

Book PC: Pages Cafe '05 Antholody

Pages Cafe ’05

Pages Cafe ’05 a thank-you to the 60+ poets who participated at my Poets Corner events during 2005 National Poetry Week.

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‘Rail Tales’ a chapbook of just those pieces written on the train travelling between Perth and the Northern Suburbs, previously published in my first Irish book.

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‘Love’ a book concentrating on poems written about that universal theme of love.

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‘Santa’s Swim’ a children’s story with pictures.

The last three were necessary to have something to offer when the invited guest of the Avon Valley Writers Festival as my first book was sold out.

I still have some copies of the last three book available – there’s further information regarding purchase here:  http://francesmacaulayforde.com/buy_books__postcards

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