Posted in Ireland, Love, Poetry, Romance, Writing, tagged FrancesMacaulayForde, PoemsWrittenInIreland, poetry, romance on November 3, 2014| 1 Comment »
Bead-work is intimate,
novel-like in the detail
– the chase a known pattern.
Crochet hooks the reader,
burrows through cotton/wool.
Knitting thrusts and parries.
Everything to do with
the size of the needle
and how it’s manipulated.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
#FrancesMacaulayForde #PoemsWrittenInIreland #Romance #Poetry
Posted in Books, Ireland, Poetry, Writers, tagged FrancesMacaulayForde, Ireland, JessieLendennie, poetry, SalmonPoetry, WalkingHere on October 30, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Since the net has been playing up, I’ve had time to do all sorts of things, pick up a pencil to draw or read books – such a luxury.
One of the first I’ve chosen is ‘Walking Here’ by my friend Jessie Lendennie, of Salmon Poetry and THE best bookshop in Ireland, fame. I’m enjoying it so much and couldn’t resist sharing one of her poems with you.
Jessie and her family are mourning the recent loss of two of her beloved ‘pack’ but I know they still run to that rock pool, whenever she goes walking around the amazing Cliffs of Moher.
#FrancesMacaulayForde #JessieLendennie #SalmonPoetry #WalkingHere #Poetry #Ireland
Posted in Favorite Writers, Poetry, Writers, Writing, tagged AustralianPoetryFoundation, FrancesMacaulayForde, FrontPageImpact, JulieChevalier, poetry, RonPretty, WRIT-Issue1 on October 5, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Years ago, Julie Chevalier and I were members of on-line poetry critique group run by the amazing Ron Pretty who established the Australian Poetry Foundation and now has a competition named after him.
I enjoyed her poem “The moon and the stars were our chandelier” published in ALPHA – Issue 1, of WRIT, Western Australia’s newest poetry review on-line zine. (Although they’re asking for submissions for the next issue, unfortunately WRIT cannot afford to pay its contributors.)
Julie gave me some excellent constructive comments for my poem: “Front Page Impact” which I posted a short while ago. I recommend you take a moment and read some of her award-winning words.
#FrancesMacaulayForde #JulieChevalier #RonPretty #AustralianPoetryFoundation #WRIT-Issue1 #FrontPageImpact #poetry
Posted in Writing, tagged Co Cork, CorkCity, Frances Macaulay Forde, Ireland, new writing, Poem, poetry, Recycling, RecyclingTyres, Returned Love, RobinsonsTyres, words, writing on September 30, 2014| 3 Comments »
In Ireland with my newly returned love we lived in Midleton, a little village 25 km from Cork City.
He enjoyed showing me around his home of only a few years – but the new home of his heart.
Chatting about the ‘mysteries’ of writing poetry, we’d driven into Robinson’s Tyres yard, littered with used product.
I’d just finished saying I never suffered from writers block and could do a poem about anything. He pointed and challenged me to write about ‘Those’.
So while he organised for a change of Tyre, I wrote about them:
Smooth Skin
Off Old Cork road, turning into Midleton
stacks of life-saving re-treads have Buckley’s
chance of reliving their youth. Discarded tyres
lay stop-piled high; like Auschwitz bodies
deflated, black, aged-old wheel-rings have
reached the end and their final journey.
Unlined rubber circles, low profile cushions
await disposal; melting erasure – incineration.
Their job is complete – no longer needed.
The largest lay prepared, neatly size-stacked,
ready and resigned, proudly age un-marked
claiming their fair share of the dumping ground.
Smaller circles know their place, are thrown
haphazardly because they’ve lost their grip;
swallowed by take-over tyrants, larger than they are.
Tractor workhorses are content to rest, miles-tired,
worn out, knowing they don’t count because the speedy
don’t care – don’t notice how many lines are missing.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
Posted in Perth City, Poetry, Poetry Postcards, WA Writers, Writing, tagged FrancesMacaulayForde, PerthWA, poetry, WAPoet, WAWriting on September 27, 2014| Leave a Comment »
My sister-in-law Grace does a wonderful job of showcasing Perth with Daily Photos and interesting facts about places.
I write short poems around it…
Cottesloe
paddlers ignore
frantically flapping flags
strike rythmically
into the folding flow
Han’s Café
Whitfords with sunset view
and one lonely seagull
trying out the new pool.
Rottnest Island
peacocks parade
scouting the scene
for opportunities
Wanneroo Folk Club
old grey whistles
same old tunes
nothing changes
just remember
Immigrant
with visa ease
he slipped
into Australia
like oiled toes
invade a shoe
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2005
#FrancesMacaulayForde #PerthWA #Poetry #WAWriting WAPoet
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 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 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 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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