Posted in Africa, Animals, nature, Poetry, WA Writers, tagged Africa, Frances Macaulay Forde, Inspiration, new writing, Photo blog, Poem, poems, poetry in Western Australia, words, writer, writing on March 6, 2014| Leave a Comment »
I saw this photo by on the net and was immediately inspired: nature + telephone pole = home.
RECYCLED
Sociable weaver
birds gather Kalahari
sticks, grass, cotton to
construct home-trees for hundreds.
Out-dated rest-points built to
carry distance wires become
capsules recycled for
mobile families.
.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
Posted in Hidden Capacity, Love, Poetry, Romance, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Perth City Skyline, Poem, poems, poetry in Western Australia, South Per, WA, Western Australia, words, writer, writing on March 6, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Perth Skyline, taken from the Mend St Jetty across the fiver in South Perth.
Thought I’d share another poem from my first book written during my on-line courtship, specifically what a poetry editor in Ireland deemed a ‘quirky’ title, to see what you think.
This comment, at 12.33pm on messenger,
stopped me in my tracks – I had to
question you…
Why say that? Is this where you are?
Role research? Experimenting on me?
I have opened the door for you once more.
You are the love of my life returned
to my room…
‘cos of who you are, who you’ve been.
And who I’ve been – where I’ve been.
My labels are cheap, used and tattered.
Yours exciting, money new, and ‘out there’.
Can you ignore…
appreciate the journey, walk the same road
remembering why I react from memories.
How did this happen and why now?
The director knows the outcome,
my script done…
Nuances of assistance from higher hands…
mysterious determined effort for lasting love.
If the future wanes – dumping my heart…
When I prove not to be what you want…
If my love…
can’t match your carefully constructed,
mental and emotional picture of me today…
Rejection! A resounding slap in the face.
Eternal damnation of idealism – romance.
Proving …
my impossible dreams have no right
to insert themselves into my reality.
I will still love you – hate you first but
eventually settle back to loving you again,
sub-consciously….
I will treasure always you careful words,
your considered approach – all the ‘bulls*it’!
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
From my 1st book of poems ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ Published in Cork, Ireland, 2003.
Posted in Hidden Capacity, Poetry, Romance, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Poem, poetry in Western Australia, Returned Love, romance, words, writer, writing on March 4, 2014| 2 Comments »
A photo taken by my daughter at Hillary’s Boat Harbor to show my returned love what I looked like after 28 years (very, very hard to do).
When my returned-love found my name on the net after so long, the computer was both my friend and my enemy, forming a safe barrier to hide behind until I found the courage to step into love again.
Computer Messenger
.
Banter that backfired because
literal interpretations got lost
in considered connotations,
(re-read a thousand times)
of what went way-back-when…
.
Juxtaposition of judgements.
Hastily harnessed how-comes?
Stopping me still, seriously!
Making me question us both.
.
My passionate banshee tears
initiated by tactile responses
to words type-tapped carefully.
Sometimes in casual jest
to test my reactions?
.
Is it natural to anticipate
disaster – dismissal and defend?
Not normally for me – I search
for more of your positive essence,
confirmation of my impressions.
.
I want you – all of you – now!
Every nuance of normality
shared secretly, sensually…
But other stuff too – thoughts,
reasons, why you do what you do…
.
I can’t ‘see’ the whole of you
touch your skin – breath you in.
Sense your hands on my breasts
holding me, stroking me softly.
I want – I need – I crave to.
.
Insecurity inserts itself
firmly forcing doubt-feelings
to well and grow without witness,
until you answer; you calm; you claim,
.
cover my heart and soul with caring.
Linger in my love, lay there
until we’re both sweetly exhausted
by this power, this perpetual passion
.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2002
From my 1st book of poems ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ Published in Cork, Ireland, 2003.
#FrancesMacaulayForde #HiddenCapacity #Romance #LovePoems #Poems
Posted in nature, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Glen Phillips, new writing, Poem, poetry in Western Australia, Western Australia, words, writer, writing on March 1, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Following on from Friday’s post about Glen Phillips, I wanted to share a poem which was included in ‘Landscapes’ the journal of the International Centre for Landscape and Language at ECU.
Moondyne Joe, the central character in the re-enactment.
The poem was written after we attended the Moondyne Festival, a re-enactment of the Moondyne Joe legend held every year in Toodyay.
It’s an historic town in WA which had recently been devastated by bush-fires – far too often a feature of our landscape.
I was struck by the horrendous beauty as we drove through the area, illustrated by the aftermath of death and the brilliant resilience of nature.
Toodyay
black ash still lay
where fire had licked
with devil tongues
across roadside gravel
a careless cigarette
city-slicker thrown
community fun day
re-enacting Moondyne Joe
quick fire prowled up
summer-dry gullies
stand of trees ridge
wind break – not fire-breaker
no escape allowed
as bright yellow jackets
smother white foam
contain the bush fire danger
gum tree pale striped
old bark peeled back
green growth beauty
black trees juxtaposed
fresh life canopies
halt dieback* spores
spiked hair sprouts
thousand years and counting
*Dieback is a fungal disease which decimates our native trees, reducing them to bare branches.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2011
Just another example of Glen supporting and encouraging my involvement in the WA writing community.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized, WA Writers, Writing, tagged ECU - Edith Cowan University, Frances Macaulay Forde, Glen Phillips, poems, poetry in Western Australia, words, writer on February 27, 2014| 1 Comment »
For my 50th birthday I wanted a university degree in creative writing, something I’d done all my life but never formally acknowledged. A new course was launched at Edith Cowan University which seemed tailor-made for me.
When I applied I didn’t really expect to be accepted because I had left school early in the mid-sixties and sat an entrance exam which I was sure I’d fluffed by going off at a tangent (as usual).
But no, to my continued amazement I was accepted and made my trepidatious way to class surrounded by clever youngsters, fully expecting to be left far behind.
The Return of Rainbows
Driving down Alexander,
(early morning rush hour)
lecture on documentary film.
Eager for knowledge, I noted
low, broad bands of color
spanning the sky above Uni.
Ignoring the grey clouds,
I welcomed the return
of rainbows to my life
Frances Macaulay Forde © 1999
Friend Leonie and I at Graduation.
I got through, only with the uncompromising support and encouragement of Honorary Professor of English at Edith Cowan University and Director of the University’s International Centre for Landscape and Language, Glen Phillips.
His poetry has always connected with me and I buy as many of his books as my budget will allow, unfortunately I won’t be at the up-coming launch of this next (three ) books because I will be working elsewhere.
In my last posting I referred to my Jacaranda carpet in my poem ‘Renovations’ directly inspired by a poem from one of Glen’s early books:
“Lovesongs/Lovescenes” by Glen Phillips
When my first book of poems ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ was published in Ireland, it proudly contained a Preface by Hon. Prof. Phillips: “A brief word by way of a preface to a unique book.” and concluded with “Sharing this book could change your days and I wish every reader a happy and rewarding time with it while congratulating Frances very warmly for the achievement.”
See what I mean?
Posted in Books, Poetry, Scripts, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Andrew Burke, Australian Poetry, Frances Macaulay Forde, Pages Cafe, Perth, Poem, poems, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, Poets Cafe, Poets Corner, WA Writers, words, writer, writing on February 24, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Andrew Burke hosting Poet’s Corner, May 2008.
I’m shocked! Andrew Burke has always seemed particularly inspired but wrote on a FB message to me that his writing “has stalled and needs a push start downhill, in gear – like in them good old days” ending with a smiley face.
It shocked and saddened me; I honestly can’t imagine that quick, witty, incisive brain NOT being inspired. He’s always been such a prolific poet dabbling in many genres (even documentary) inspiring and supporting others with his blog.
But first I got to wondering why… As John Lennon once said “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” A totally appropriate quote to use for Andrew because he’s an accomplished writer, but very much a musician in his soul.
He even has a Wiki page! (How do you get a Wiki page?)
I also discovered an e-book ‘Blue Rose’ on Smashwords which I have just purchased for a measly $4.99 (!) and because Andrew has inspired me (once again) I’ve joined the site to explore the possibilities for my own words. (Thanks, Andrew.)
Often as writers needing the head-space to write, life overwhelms us with what we HAVE to do.
Be selfish sometimes and take a moment to do what you NEED to do, too… we’ll all be better for it.
Posted in Love, Poetry, Romance, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Love, poems, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, writing on February 15, 2014| 2 Comments »
Wardrobe Mistress
.
I stood in front of the wardrobe
we shared and stared and stared.
.
I had just seen her with overalls down
below her knees, your familiar bare bum
.
tensed. It’s thrusting only previously
seen in awkward twisted mirror-glimpses.
.
Your shirts and tees hung between pink
bright lime, purple, olives, shady greens
.
of twirling gypsy skirts. My bohemian
scarves draped over one of your two suits;
.
70’s-wedding brown and grey work-familiar.
There’s nothing I recognize now. No, no
.
clothing will suit or fit my new body, the
slimmed down me. So I’ll abandon the large
.
wardrobe jammed with memories of lilac picnics,
winter barbecues, summer crocheted maternity
.
smocks… the shirt I hand-made for our first
anniversary and leave the idea of kisses
for it’s new mistress…
.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2000
Posted in Love, Poetry, Romance, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Perth, poems, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, Valentine's Day, words, writer, writing on February 14, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Eros strikes again! (Hear the poem)
.
Valentine’s Day. You
pierced me with the past,
.
forced me to recall
feelings suppressed…
.
and reminded me
of my ability to love…
.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
Posted in Poetry, Romance, Sound, Sounds, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Perth, poems, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, Valentine's Day, words, writer, writing on February 13, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Well, I’ve done it! I’ve learnt how to record my 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day and humbly offer them for your (hopeful) enjoyment:
No 1 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Sleep’
No 2 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Vacuuming’
No 3 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Water Bird’
No 4 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Committed Skin’
No 5 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Before You’
No 6 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Turning the Page’
No 7 of 7 Poems for Valentine’s Day: ‘Loose Lettuce Leaf Factory Tour’
(Illustration: Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003)
Posted in Love, Poetry, Romance, Writing, tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Poem, poems, poetry in Western Australia, Valentine's Day, words, writer, writing on February 11, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Loose Lettuce Leaf Factory Tour
.
The busload waited for another to park,
not Gingin locals
but a global arc
.
of foreign accents, ages and looks,
my concentration torn
from my favorite book.
.
I grabbed my novel – another boring tour,
the sign caught my eye
promised so much more.
.
Avenues of squashed, boxed green,
piled high like trees
wait to be cleaned.
.
Whilst gentle fingered plastic hands
maneuvered each leaf
to remove the sand,
.
bits of mulch, a sleepy slug or two
its entrails smudged
was stuck like glue.
.
Full mouth askew with unbidden distaste,
my eyes clashed with
a gently smiling face.
.
Heart skipped to a stranger’s look
as he read the title
of my romance book.
.
Like turning loose leaves under
ice cool water sprays,
my heart was plundered
.
in a thousand ways…
.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2009
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