2011 Artworks and Poems

Golden

Sunlight through a stained-glass window, floating on a breeze
Settling on water like a shimmering rainbow,
Stretching and folding back in like a soundless
Accordion

Sunset on the water, or maybe sunrise
Lacy patterns of Ruby and Gold
Coral curves pulsating, reef fish shining their scales on
Spongy fingers

Sky grazing water, trickling trail of molten metals
Fading with the light

Deb Micallef

Your applause runs
like sunlight down
rain-filled gutters…
My wife tries to talk
but I can’t hear her over
green cauliflower cooking
over red flames. My dog
jumps up to see and barks
to see such fun. (Who
ran away with the spoon?)

Andrew Burke

Hand Song

These hands gloved in paint stamp themselves on to the page
improvise a rhythm in red, white & black. Forget

'the pale hands' of poetry these hands beat and dig and jive,
navigate black, hand out hand rails go hand over hand over 

hand, take their bearings, sing the land.

Carol Millner

pomme

help me paint the sky with potatoes
. stars sing a poem of dappling the
earth, apples birthed from dirt
, ground swell constellating nightdom
, dark clumps undone. we harvest
fields, we paint pages, we mash
everything together
.

Scott-Patrick Mitchell


Potato Stars

Star bright star light
I wish upon a star tonight

my falling ones to fly me free
with potato stars I shall abide

this tide from where I come   
until it’s time to take me home

fly fly my precious one
cross over to a timeless shore

with the planets, moon and sun
the Universe and I as one

Saz Campbell (Inspired by Celine Dion’s Fly)

That’s me in the corner by the pool.
I’m bored     it’s too cold to swim.
Everything is grey   the clouds
the garden     the water.
I want to be warm and happy
so in my mind I splash it all
with sunshine  grapes   tabasco   lime.
Smile    take off my jumper.

Jan Napier

before me
the page
hospital white
inside me a colour collection
i dip my paintbrush
each splash a tenor chorus
each dab a dance dalliance
each stroke my heart message

Coral Carter

the last rays of the sun                                 
glance across                                               
tumbling cascades;                                      
an uneasy sky
shadows                                            
ferns, flowers, fireflies…                              
down to the depths.

Val Neubecker

Aurora Australis

The blue planet 
in the front row
has the best seat
for the big show
 
The dark curtain
of the night plays
all the bright shades
of the light’s grace

Dr Liana Christensen

my clever toes
know pigments
wield the brush
squish and swirl
the paint-filled sponge

trees flower
in a mid-summer garden
luminous bands appear
in an aurora borealis sky—
my happiness

Dr Sally Clarke

Acrylic and canvas take me
to a sun soaked cottage
a garden coaxed
from harsh dry earth -
hibiscus  ivy  plumbago
cling to tumbledown fences
chooks scratch around
under an old lemon tree
and there are fresh eggs
for breakfast every Sunday.

Liz Nicholls

Here is my arm - see the colour? A pretty hue.
My eye looks up; I paint it true.
Michael takes the risk and his work dances.
With his favourite disk, his work enhances.
He flourishes the brush in waving lines,
This artwork he loves and his face shines.
This for the exhibition he made very clear,
As he moved the brush in dots very near
the waving lines. Such dedication,
he paints away without hesitation.

Colleen O’Grady

Africa

So much blood in my country
of tigers, elephants, men.
So many women crying,
watering the brown soil.

Sue Clennell

In my hands the colours
of sun and foliage swirl
furl with fire and water.
Delivered in the sweep
of a brush and leap
from my fingertips
in a dance to fill dreams
with stories boldly told.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Across the yellow plain spinifex humps and hides old lizard
Rainmaker sits clapping his sticks
Calls up lightning, calls up thunder
Rumbling out of the hills
Tumbling, whipping, splintering air
Shards of white awe hunt the lizard.
And in the aftermath, the puddles
Chainstitch the sand.

Virginia O’Keeffe

‘Bending Autumn Trees in the Park’

I’m sat sitting in my favourite park
Contemplating my toes and the shadow they cast on the path in front of the bench.
I hear the sound of a duck on the water nearby and look up, noticing stuff for the first time..
The trees look like a bending blanket of awesome colours, happy together…
…the shadows the blanket casts are like blocks bending and blending…

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

STILL LIFE

You see the old masters
painting a still life.
It could be a pink bowl
full of green pears
or a tulip bouquet.

But I see colour strokes
one upon one
claiming freedom
of the canvas,
freedom of life.

Dr Glen Phillips

warm earth bathes
in sunlight
a fervent fusion 
beside blooms
peeking from patches 
of purity

Christina Gammon

The Orange Spider

An orange spider dropped and dangled
As I walked beneath a tree
Its web was crumpled and its legs were tangled
but it gave a smile to me
As I moved nearer, it became clearer
its smile wasn’t as it should be
with one sharp tug, it reeled in a bug
and I was invited for tea.

Debra Ratcliffe

losing North

jaundiced streetlight, losing North,
the weight of angst?
blood on the eyelids

wind freshening to thirty knots,
jaundiced North, losing streetlight
as the day’s light retires,
eyelids blooded

this day, light retiring,
dark’s consolation
in angst, waiting

        Kevin Gillam

Waiting

What fickle creatures people are
we spend our lives in queues,
in busy supermarkets
or at sales when buying shoes.

These people stand so quietly
and pay no heed to us,
their day is done and everyone
is queuing  for the bus.

Peter Rondel

A light bulb

The porch light shines into the night
to bathe the lawn in shadowed light,
and like a beacon shining there
draws moths and insect everywhere;
they dance there for the world to see
performing every night for me.
Those beetles green and moths of red
write poetry within my head,
but when the sun wakes up once more
I realize what night was for.

Peter Rondel

in this fragile geometry
he points out the multifaceted

direction of last things

of the tension formed between shape and colour

but then trees appear
in the red and gold
the road signs

of winter pre-dawn

paper and feathers
perfectly woven
threaded together

no need for rock or scissors

paper flutters
feathers fly off the page
in a tapestry of texture

and freedom

Maureen Sexton

From our central curl
we send across the floor our various breaths,
our bits, our strips and feathers. Deployed
on the clean orange space
they cluster in yellow and blue
with a green flag, a pink wink and a purple teardrop.

Their tendrils extend, quietly,
over the hard white walls
into the blankness that frames us

and make shadows there.

Janet Jackson

WORDS, WORDS, WORLDS

The word ‘poetry’ comes from a Greek word –
To make, to form, to build –
And here in lively color and every filled space
You Josh create a city of words
Which in turn relays into my collection of words.
Together we can build worlds out of words.

Peter Jeffery OAM

Come and step into my maze
and see what you can find;

a boat so blue
a boomerang, too
an open book
a crown in a nook

The deeper you wind
more treasures you find

But, now can you find .....
.....your way out?

Val Neubecker

Stained Glass

Catch me in the curved colour of the glass.
Reflect me in the whole world of the room.
Chase me in the liquid claret and indigo cubes.
And let me stain your senses
with the smooth discovery
of the impossible.

Paula Jones

Peacock Dance

Peacock dance
Bow and prance
Shake and shimmer
Dusk and glimmer
 
From those who seek emancipation
You engender admiration
Strut in gorgeous feathered glory
Tell to all, your story.

Catherine Szathmary               

THE POTTER’S SLIP

With jaunty slip of playful lip,
disarming and beguiling,
my potter’s hope through slidey slope
is set to get you smiling.

Max Merckenschlager

Echo the shape of a wheel
with your hands,
find their centre
Fill this with clay, allow
the wheel to turn, the
clay. Add water.

Create depth with
your thumbs, give it
some lip.

Find the shape of your
cupped hands, mirrored
between them. Offer this
to fire, to stone.

Amanda Joy

Blue-Red Feelings

Mulberries on the tree for
my birthday. In your garden
we eat and play Armies -
Bang bang! You're dead!
 
We laugh as we fall down
juice stains on our shirts
We find shapes in the clouds
the sun illuminating your face

Natasha L Adams

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

What can you see ... in the clouds?

I see lakes with bays, and clear blue streams
I see technicolour sheep, appear in my dreams
There are lush, green hills, and a magnificent scene
Of a cotton-wool bed, where young chicks convene

What do you see?

Julienne Juschke

Yellow Water

Balloon me to the East Alligator River 
Transport me over that vast yellow water
Let others have their Arno’s, Seine’s and Rheine’s

It is there in those Northern seasonal reeds
In the heartland of country
That we will be reminded
It is where and who we are
That  makes our art

Christopher Konrad

TADPOLES

in here almost beyond belief
catch the flicker that darts
from your shadow

am i so impressive, imposing
to cause panic
in things so small, and so complete

Alistair Bain

forest floor
continuity
and discontinuity

you want to live forever
worms will eat 
all of us

Mar Bucknell

Gathering forth
Towards the beat of the African drum
If only we could hear
Wrinkled elders as old as earth
Your ancient ways
Told and retold
On dusty trails

Tanya Jaw

Little Black Dog

My little black dog
barking at the yellow moon.
What can you see up there
little dog?
A slice of holey cheese
or maybe Neil Armstrong's footprints.

Laurel Lamperd

Rhythm of waves shapes the land
where seeds dropped by seabirds
burst into life, fronds waving
in afternoon sea breezes.
Blue sky reflects blue sea,
white-topped waves beneath
white-bellied clouds.

All is peace here, tranquil,
until the school bell rings.

Andrew Burke

A Distant View

Looking out I see a new world,
new horizons filled with unknown promise.
The familiar is secure, bound by fences
Out there danger waits; ready to unfurl
excitement, peril, adventure beyond control.
in the distance I see harmony;
hard won peace, tranquillity
a map of the future unravels and unfolds.
Life is full of chances some of which we choose.
If we stay behind the fence, how much will we lose?

Veronica Lake


Doodles and Dithers

Tinctures for turtles
trains at T junctions

tiptoe with big toes
doodles and dithers
 
green aeroplanes fly
jellies in the sky

catch me to teach me
rhyming and rhythms

My mother lives in the rainbow
The rainbow lives in the sky
Not so I.

I am the green girl
asleep on the earth

awaiting with joy
my mothers calling

Dennis Greene

they say it’s the way
water gathers into light

but beam to beam
we are joined

she caresses my tears
I caress her heart

We remember in rainbows
Stretching from her to me

Every colour dances from her smile
Every colour her gift to me

Deanne Leber

Impressions

Sweeping sundrenched sands
verdant vegetation
rugged rocky outcrops
illusory impressions.

Meryl Manoy

The Continent Looks Up

It’s a short flight
between then and now 
 
in this moment
the whole is shown
 
each rock and tree  
and crop distinct
 
a perfect setting for
that rare blue gem

Dr Liana Christensen

colour my garden
sunflower yellow
salvia red
cornflower blue

placed one-by-one
delicate
glowing light
merging summer sun

Dr Sally Clarke

I can see some of the garden outside,
as I peer through the glass brick wall.
The flowers moving like an ocean tide,
their coloured heads on stems so tall.

It’s not plain to see what each could be,
looking through shiny but fuzzy glass.
There’s yellow, red and some blue I see,
But it’s warm and helps the time to pass.

Sandra McAlpine

Quinten, Dean, Andrew, Brett,
Daniel, Nicholas, Adam, Josh,
Sam, Bradd, Jack, Shannon,
Mark and Mitchell,
all make up colours of my rainbow,
as they run, dodge and leap,
soar like their namesake in the sky.

Sue Clennell

Carin'

Well, she hasn't got a photo
So I can't tell you her age
Yet I know she signs her art
At the top left side of the page
It’s got earth right at the bottom
And a nice rainbow with no sky
With the west coast in the middle
It makes me sort of wonder why
Is she thinkin’ of our long coastline
Or an eagle soaring way up high?

John McBain

Imagination

What can I see,
A tall, green tree
Reaching out its arms to me.

What can I feel a sun, warm slope
I can lean against and breathe in hope.

The sun is blue, the sky is gold,
The grass is a sea, my mind can hold.

What can you see?
What can you feel?
I paint my joy and that is real!

J.R.McRae


the world seen
through a dog's eye
may seem bland
without
rainbow colours
but love holds
all the hues
one could desire.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

WHEN EAGLES FLY

When the eagles fly,
like a flock of gold on blue,
the cheering crowd rises as a cresting wave,
breaking in a thunderous roar.
A winning goal as the siren screams!

Jacqui Merchenschlager


‘Flying High’

They make my day
Flying high
Kicking the ball
Best in the World…

They make my day
Flying high
If I could paint and drive my caravan
It would shine and fly like an Eagle ball…

The Eagles are cool bananas
Best in the World, making my day.

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

It could be van Gogh

a table set for two or three
those arms like nature blend
cherries, pears, banana too
so rich and ripe

as hunger calls
those arms lean forward
bend to welcome me

Rose van Son

take the fruit
from still life with fruit
eat, enjoy, squander, discard
bowl vine table and all
do what you will and
leave me with what is left
still life.

Christina Gammon

Friday night

Friday night,
and seven jaffas
free of the box
meet up with

four grapes
off the bunch,
the possibilities

far beyond
frames of

land or sea

Kevin Gillam

Flowers

Outside my window
Flowers dance in the soft breeze
Touched by morning dew

Outside my window
Raindrops slide down the smooth glass
Flowers growing wet

Inside my window
Curtains dance in the soft breeze
Flowers in a vase

Deb Micallef

it’s impossible not to see this oiled
engine for freedom on the open road

tearing through its limitations
like a rocket through an interstate border

searching out miles of blue and gold daylight
on its way away from here

but this caravan won’t forget to come to rest
at night beside the highway

protecting us from all sorts of weather
preparing for the new day’s flight

Nathan Hondros

Icon

The caravan is so still on the page 
swiftly it passes me through all the blue green
green blue landscape camping yellow sun shower days I can remember 
playing draughts waiting for the rain to pass 
jumping in to swim in deep water watching the whitebait run 
kicking a footy climbing a tree cooking up some damper 
writing a poem reading a book 
taking a look at the country round about blue green green blue

yet the caravan is so still on the page


Carol Millner

MOTHER TERESA

Reached out to the untouchables.
Blessed the humble     fed the hungry
eased the dying.
Kindle three candles.
Celebrate a frail presence set alight
by love’s matchless passion.

Jan Napier

FROZEN FIREWORKS

Your lovely coloured trees
are frozen fireworks .
Each branch crackles with life.

Peter Jeffery OAM

Rainbow in Reverse

when it rains
the sky bleeds colours
like a rainbow in reverse
like a waterfall paintbox
spilling colours to the floor
so in springtime
they surprise us
in the carnival of flowers
of the bush

Paula Jones

Queuing for an Audition

Dressed to impress
they wait in a line,                                                     
nervously hope                                             
they remember their line,                 
their futures, you see,
are all on the line –
only one in the line will be chosen.

Val Neubecker

Hugo’s hands in the paint
The paint on Hugo’s hands
spread rumours       of giant red birds
blue lakes fed       by rain and green
and broad leafed trees
to hide them all in

Amanda Joy

The weather man warns -
giant waves will crash
wild winds will blow
trees could come down
gutters overflow
but I don't care
I'll stay home
listen to music
and paint spring.

Liz Nicholls

A beautiful painting of sand and greenery
Is Geoff’s interpretation of scenery.
A helping hand is all he requires
To get the colours he desires.
A touch of blue between the green
Is the sky’s hue easily seen.
Roadways he did in shades of brown
With other colours portraying town.
There’s the footy field in a splodge of green.
Geoff paints of things where he has been.

Colleen O’Grady

BRIGHT SENSATION

I love weekends with family and friends,
for colourful conversation.

And to go to the footy with lots of fans,
and cheer with the whole Aussie nation.

Linked to my life, a whole range of people, 
to be wrapped in great celebration.

This artwork description applies to them all.
Each one is a Bright Sensation.

Julienne Juschke

The sign of We

I do carry you within me
At the least the potential you
Whether that be the colour yellow upon meeting  blue
Or you the viewer of my wares
But this deep green is another invention
It manifests new worlds upon being aired and
Entering into me
It hails a whole new language
The sign of we

Christopher Konrad

Across the ink of squid and pippis we send our souls
The sea accepts us impartially, sometimes we are food
Sometimes we are pleasure takers
Sometimes we voyage to take for ourselves
But always somewhere the sun is setting on oceans
On squid ink and pippis down by the sea.

Virginia O’Keeffe

Life is an apple tree
Ripe and ready for me
 Shake it hard
Or
Wait for fruit to fall
Either way
I can gather
The deliciousness of it all

Tanya Jaw

FALLING APPLES

Running the race to beat the school bell’s tolling
in autumn chill days we jogged past apple trees
fogbound in a neighbour’s orchard. Newton’s apples
of gravity were no heavier than these beauties, hefty
red globules waiting to be unstemmed by rough schoolboy
tugging for a munched crisp lunch at the school’s first break.

Dr Glen Phillips

Sunflowers

Sunflowers dancing in the breeze
like Wordworth's daffodils.
Strong colours beneath a hot sun
so different to the pale golden beauties
from that other chilly land.

Laurel Lamperd

A Touch of Flowers

A touch of flowers
gold and blue, they hum with love
deep within their hearts

A bouquet of gold and
blossoms blue
dabs of flowers
Just for you

Debra Ratcliffe

Wonderland

Out beyond the garden wallwhere rabbits play and weeds grow tall,
there is a place I’ve never seen,
a place where all that grows is green
and fluffy clouds hang in the sky
but never rain – I wonder why,
Perhaps I’ll visit there some day
before I lose the will to play
and do those childish things once more
for that is what that place is for.

Peter Rondel

Sanctuary

In this quiet place,
Rocks and river water go tumbling to the sea.
Here is tranquillity, time to pause and listen,
time to see green things growing, reaching up to golden sun.

In this quiet place,
The puff and drift of clouds caress blue skies
Here is serenity, time to dream and hope,
time to plan rainbow tomorrows.

In this quiet place, there is sanctuary.

Veronica Lake

   the less heard

there are eight limbs sprouting from
the trunk of this tree,

one for each of the senses and one
for earth, moon and sun, so I’m

running fingers, inhaling, licking at,
watching this warm musty bark,

listening for the less heard,
the other side,

a rhyme with orange

     Kevin Gillam

I write books on bark
prayers on leaves
poems on stems
and small affirmations
concealed in seeds
I plant for tomorrow

Deanne Leber

Tree of Life

Stretched from bare root fingers
a thick trunk paints a path
leaves whisper 'autumn's here'
and whistle pods sizzle wind seeds
filling the air with warm song.
This is my golden opportunity.

Paula Jones

Chariot Race

I watch two red horses
a green chariot with
two green wheels
and green driver
surge forward to
the finishing line.

Meryl Manoy

feel velvet green caress your skin
hear sizzling red tickle your ears
taste lemon yellow tart on your tongue
breathe in deep and smell the beauty
as you see my painting unfold

and know
this is my gift to you

Maureen Sexton

Looking into the flames of the fire,
there is more than just wood in there.
The heat is spitting out fierce colours, 
like nylon ribbons dancing in the air.

Sandra McAlpine

Myth Bird

I look through your fire window
and on the other side
all the possibilities in the world

I see sky         the spirit behind this flame
the rising phoenix of you who opened that window

You who crafted these possibilities
and my heart-mind is created new

It is love that rises like the sky
like the mythical bird
like you

Christopher Konrad

Favourite hat

I reckon it’s her very favourite one
The one for those fun creative times
If she was writing down some poetry
It'd have some really lovely rhymes

And as I'm looking into her canvas
I'm wondering what’s it saying to us?

There’s nothing that’s right or wrong
And nothing that’s good or bad, yet
If we think our Melissa isn't happy
All of our country should feel sad

John McBain

Sunrise

I sip my hot tea
While drinking in the sunrise
Through my poets’ eyes

No shepherd’s warning
Natures glorious dawning
To start my morning

Catherine Szathmary

DEEP PURPLE

Frenetic, energetic,
pulsing on the crest of savage rage,
bruised and blue for me and you,
Purple pluck disciples on their stage.

Jacqui Merckenschlager

Creating

I love to mix the rich, deep tones
And make new colours of my own.

I love the way the colours blend!
Stroke, splash, and line
They weave and wend
And come together and combine
To make something unique
That’s mine!

J.R.McRae

AFTER THE RAIN

After the rain
brown-skinned children
pattern the creekbed
with squelching toes
as a searing sun
steals the last puddle.

Max Meckenschlager

Present

A postcard of this moment
To bring these feelings home
I can start over in this moment
and walk beside
Your footprints in the sand

Natasha L Adams

Tumbleweed

across the sky circling cloud
a legacy of ochre blend
the road to your house
close again

and on the road wine will flow
and on the grass your toes
will carve a path again

Rose van Son

LIFE AMONG RUBBLE

the long-horn mouths of the clouds
celebrate the raging refusal to lie down
in pastel or grey or spiked dry dearth
i remember the tulips, like this, slabbed
patterned, zephyr-caressed, in places
the work of human hands thought they’d made
a pleasant planting, not counting on
creation’s connection with soil that is soil
from the molecules of mountains and river-trammelled rock
the eye of life among rubble, hidden and exploding

Alistair Bain

Ice cream

In a bowl, in a cone
With a topping, on its own

Chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, honey
Eat it quickly when it’s sunny

In a waffle cone, on a stick
Lots of toppings, take your pick

Milk shake, thick shake, as a drink
Take your pick, but make mine pink!

Deb Micallef

Two Little Ducklings

We ducked off as the sun set,
Permission? - we had none,
We flapped around in a muddy pool,
Such squishy-wishy fun.

We looked in both directions,
Surveillance should be double,
But uh-oh, here come Mum and Dad,
I think we're in big trouble.

Val Neubecker

Dance, lady, dance,
flamenco red on
hot summer sands …
Red chilli peppers
in the blistering sun …
Paint sings as
your brushes swirl –
Dance, lady, dance!

Andrew Burke

dance

softly we have become round
we dance with suffis
inscribe circles lift weightless
spirals brush open 
the secrets of the universe
dissolve in lemon
saffron vermillion gold

Fields of Gold Companions

Unfurl your wings this landscape invites
to soar across fields of gold

companions these trees our friends
these sweet these blessed living things

enveloped we are whole
twin souls with one another

this landscape of all and everything
invites us unfurl your wings

Saz Campbell

psychoanalysis

Rorschach showed me the world &
folded it in half. ‘what do you see?
’ he  hmmmmmed. i replied ‘i see the
beauty of the lightness of being, the
ability to reach darkness’edge, to
find the space between & just be
instead.’ the correct answer is
never correct, just is
.

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

When the redfish run in winter
fishermen feast and sing.
Women bury amulets
nurture rare golden roses
offer a tribute of blooms
to Poseidon each dawn.
Ask safe passage
for their sons.

Jan Napier

the day spring came
buds popped
bright explosions
in pastel rain
blossoms fell
bees hummed
honey hymns  
blue sky arched
compliments of the sun

Coral Carter

3

A treble, a triple,
A triptych, a trine,
A troika, a triplet,
All three times as fine.

A trio of plants
Smelling three times as sweet,
A triad of birds
Give a triplicate tweet.

Val Neubecker

See how the birds fly
caught between  heartbeat
and minute,

never once asking why
just glad to be in it

Dennis Greene

seeking colours for painting
like stringing colours for beads

subtle matching
blending, contrasting
shapes, sizes differ
dramatic effects

on the page or
worn for best

Dr Sally Clarke

today I saw a butterfly
hover
above soft sun warmed petals
it was a gentle moment
a moment of peace

Liz Nicholls

A delicate wild rose of soft green,
Surrounded by a pinkish sheen
Of gentle outback background
And pretty leafy scene.
Lana’s work, a dedication
To her people of this nation,
A land that is mostly brown,
Lana’s work is of its creation.

Colleen O’Grady

I am a green camellia, not yet ripe,
and although I have no scent,
I am cousin to the rose,
pucker for her kisses.

Sue Clennell

Red birthday cake and black balloons
that pop amid the streamers
in the mad cap scramble
party laugh and music.
Licking my fingers
with cake smeared lips.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

Coming home late on the train
Their heads together
Hands moving, fingers whispering
Beside a window in the yellow platform’s light
They huddle
Their names etched for all to see
Testament to their existence
Tag me she says.

Virginia O’Keeffe

‘Autumn’

Squishing autumn leaves between my toes, feet and fingers
Colours full, veined and vibrant
Like Vincent’s paint palette
Colours changing hue.

Squishing paint between my fingers
Colours mingle like molten tears
If Vincent was here
He’d join in to.

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

MUSIC IN A CAFÉ

Four nights I sought her
in one Paris café after another.
Guitars played, lights dimmed. After
dinner and dance the rest a blur.

Four nights I waited, eyes
always to the door where she
might appear with that smile
touching heart strings, stirring sighs.

Dr Glen Phillips

building in layers
art as life
feel then layer
smooth over
then leave
awaiting the next
step back to see
with paint between my toes

Christina Gammon

Toasting Toes

Wood crackling, amber flames,
sparking blue
white light
waves of warmth for
toasting toes

Debra Ratcliffe

circles

amidst a
flurry of
fire and doubt
and fret and
envy and ice
and angst and
despair and
uncadence,
hope cuts circles

Kevin Gillam


Plating up

She knows the ways of herbs and spices,
cutting cheese in nice thin slices;
chopping onions ‘till she cries -
a touch of love in all she fries
Her symphony in treble clef
she is to me, a master chef.
In candle light, a glass of wine
‘tis kitchen magic when we dine.

Peter Rondel

AUSSIE ICON

I am a foreigner within this blue-green refuge
from summer hillsides veiled blue-grey
as eucalyptus scents the air
and screaming forest giants tumble,
timber sacrificed for instant jobs.
We’re sliced from our neighbours of generations
by superhighways as insidious as Israeli walls.
Isolated, inbred, threatened with extinction.

Jacqui Merckenschlager

this is out on the periphery
of red dirt rising into morning

of the memory of a concluded journey

in the branches we watch morning approach
foliage protects us from the soil’s fire

could we be up so high we can see?

then the sternness of a eucalypt
all the heat of midday

Nathan Hondros 

my feet are a mirror
image of each other
opposite and
the same

my toes swish through
the paint leaving waves
of joy on my face

I look in the mirror
and see you smiling

Maureen Sexton

at my feet,
a sunlit sea-garden of warm wet translucence
tight and branched corals and long shifting fronds
dark eel places and cray places
happy anemones and quick fish

this is a snapshot of my habitat,
a corner of my complexity,
a mirror of my mystery

if there are any sharks,
they are a long way from here

Lisa, believe it or not
I see a face here beautifully patterned
With spots, dashes, multi-colors,
As natives readying themselves for corroboree.

Everyday we have the same old features,
Eyes, nose, lips, teeth and even wiggling ears,
But here all has been made fresh and new,
Mysterious like tigers rippling through bamboo,
As sweet as hundreds and thousands.

Peter Jeffery OAM

TOES

Thank you toes for allowing me
to express my creativity.
Paint in my toes gives me pleasure
pursuing art at my leisure.
It may take weeks to achieve
a result of which I’m pleased.
Thank you toes for no complaint
to dip in squishy squashy paint.
My five digit signature plain to see
this art work was created by ME – LISA BERNIC

Spark!

It only takes one spark
to ignite the blank page,
and one spark
to burn the words
to paper ash,
and let the letters fly
like birds
            like birds
                        like birds.

Paula Jones

Bird on a branch

Tawny Frogmouth Owl
Silent observer of truth
God’s feathered angel

CARNIVAL

Hear the circus lady sing,
clutching goose beneath her wing,
feathers plucked for this and that –
one is in the cricket’s hat!
Leaping flames on charcoal’s glow;
after Sunday’s final show
friends will gather for a feast:
cricket, showmen, bird and beast.

Max Merckenschlager

Colour Explosion

A wet plush green
eddies at the edges
bubbling gold & red like
light through rain on
a windscreen, the way
it splashes & trembles
then is quiet

IT'S A HOT CROSS BUN, OF COURSE

It's not a horse ... of course.
It's a bun, of course.
And it's HOT, with a cross above.

And it's NOT for a horse,
Of course, of course.
It's for me with some tea ...
which I love. Of course.

Julienne Juschke

Warm from the oven
buns, pies and
a hot-cross bun,
now, where’s that
cup of tea?

Chiaroscuro

It is the afternoon breeze that wings these hues
lifts, swirls and eddies them onto this canvas

shifts my attention  between striation of red, yellow and blue
as fingers swift  with  intention sweep across my view

I am caught in crossfire of colour
I am unfashionable in this moment of chiaroscuro

I am carried beyond the legislation of my reason

Christopher Konrad

Hurdy-gurdy, hurdy-gurdy,
Spin like a spinning top.
Topsy-turvy, topsy-turvy,
Hair like a washing mop.
Seaweed flowing, seaweed waving
Like a sun-filled barley crop.

Andrew Burke

The Wise Ones

The Wise One said, what say you of love?
I showed Him my art

and He bowed down to me
He said He saw many beautiful colours

and a big heart
I said, what say You of love?

He showed me His many beautiful colours
and His big heart

I bowed down to Him
at Heaven’s gate

Saz Campbell

Heated frenzy
Streamers paint the sky
As the gun goes off
Over tracks
Fanning the runners’ fire

Tanya Jaw

Flying Yellow Man

Yellow surreal man
flying above the pansy patch
How I wish I were you
seeing what you see
from my fixed place
down here.

Laurel Lamperd

June winter morning
street lights blur in grey - no birds
sunrise goes unsung

Coral Carter

Kaleidoscope
 
The world spins,
pulsing with light,
full of whirling energy.
Vibrant colours swirl into patterns,
spinning red, twirling through blue to green,
bursting into yellow.
The whirligig of time explodes into new stars
Our vision is changed;
we see with clarity
everything is brighter now.

Veronica Lake

You Are Invited


Balloons hold parties and invite all their mates:
the sweeties, the smarties, the spoons and the plates
 
They head to the beaches and have lots of fun
without all their teachers they play in the sun
 
Although they are tired out (all parties must end)
the smarties and sweeties will always be friends

Dr Liana Christensen

seniority
in the colours I choose
strong reds, black, vivid green
like the Sturt desert pea

sleeping-in on winter mornings
I dream these colours
look for them
from bus and train windows

place them with care
in my painting

Dr Sally Clarke

I spelt names
like Sturt’s Desert Pea
with my fingers
turned them
hand over palm

Long before I knew their shape
words bloomed bouquets
I examined their spaces
pressed them onto pages
and dreamt the difference

Ghosts and Ghouls

A coal black night
inviting ghouls and spectres
to cavort.
Ghostly white figures
float above
a winged hound,
BEWARE - VAMPIRES.

Meryl Manoy

I send you a white night mare,
with a dressing of roses.
My proof that the dark need
hold no terror,
when wrapped with love.

Sue Clennell

A thousand lights
explode behind my eyes
to shatter the black.
Each bright spark
a dream, each flash
a hope, each streak
a star to wish on.

Gary Colombo De Piazzi

It’s such a chilly and frosty night,
but should stay much too cold to rain.
The tree is dripping crystals of white,
against black sky in the window frame.

Sandra McAlpine

‘Scribble Pigeon Walking’

On the worker day pavement people step and stride…
…going over and over where others have been.
So busy, so bustled, so bothered…
…if we painted diamonds on their soles and showed them who had been there before them; would they care?

No matter; the street pigeons trace steps at day’s end…
Squawking and scribble walking over sole echoes that are discarded by pavement people.  

Julie Fearns-Pheasant

Can you hear me laughing
When I am bubbly bathing

Can you sense me in the ocean
Enjoying that swimming notion

As you look at books upon a shelf
Can you see where I find myself

Can you feel special things and places
Within our shared air, water and dirt

I hope you really enjoy my artwork
You know I practiced on my shirt !

John McBain

Let’s Dance!

A splash of green, a dash of red ,
Can you guess just what the colours said?

“Please paint us together, we want to play!”
That’s always what the colours say!

They beam from the palette, they cling to the brush,
They sweep and they splash, they leap and they gush!

A splash of red, a dash of green,
Aren’t these the dancingest colours you’ve seen!

J.R.McRae

life comes at me 
propelled
like wet paintballs
reverberating,
colours blurred 

i take each one on
with a joyous holler

Christina Gammon

guilt

a kind of badge,
kind of burden,
a number scrawled

in ink on the
back of your hand.
a kind of stain on

the hours, a kind of
ball of torn wool,
black rain unfalling

    Kevin Gillam

CONFRONTATION

“Get out of my yard,”
the rooster squwarks,
beating his wings
in a devilish dance
but the black dog barks
a deep down bark,
turns inside-out
with laughter.

Jacqui Merchenschlager

Musical Feast

So fast you write to me
and I reply in gentle breaths
your voice I hear as amethyst
soothes like drummer on the wind

your notes pearl or even bronze
spurt rosy red between the lines
the moment slides and just in time
I catch your words and music rocks

Rose van Son

something is hiding in this one
behind the swathing paint

there is nothing tentative here
we are embraced by force

locked into canvas dimensions
I search out this obscurity with him

but nothing in me prefers an answer
to the question he proffers

in the brush strokes, posed in
the undressing of white space

Nathan Hondros

Filtering the Senses

Soft, silky, calming plumes
Early morning rose
Sun-warmed skin; banana custard
Sand between my toes
Peaceful; leafy sprigs of mint; freshly cut lawn
Joyful frog band
Sweet, feathery lavender; velvety sage
Royal, lilac dreamland

Deb Micallef

This isn't for looking at
but someone is watching. Someone is always
watching. This is my sound / my dance / my joy / breathing
pine needles and old rain / with old bass rain my blood / dark
electric berry stains and bright lemony squirts / this is my pink
tint of spiders singing / my nightwings
ruffling in the violin wind / I spiral
and slide and curl and sway and nod / alone
in my difficult deep dance bliss

Janet Jackson

Dolly

Just look at you!

All lace 'n flowers,
those eyes
your smile...

And I'll bet that's your first maxi.

You've even got a daisy in your hair 
as big as your head!

Carol Millner

THE FLORAL DOLL

Jodie, a doll with daisies, day’s eyes,
Tall and slender, with the sun
Hovering as a flower over her head.

Long lines of dress,
Colours streaming like patterned water,
Silk on silk, 
or fronds of a multi-colored weeping willow.

Peter Jeffery OAM

Geraldton Cake

When layering a cake
with sweet, sandy icing
it is always tastier
to decorate with sunshine,
glitter stars, flowers and love
so that each bite
is a taste of
the good life.

Paula Jones

geraldton

drive north of here, dear, to where
sand drives wide the dust & dunes
. my heart is where my home is, &
home is up there. the shapes tell me
what to paint, & i paint a collage
glittering the canvas
.

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

The Mailman

Waiting at the mailbox
for the postman
I hear his whistle down the street
and the bark of the neighbour's little dog
when he races to the closed gate
to welcome him.
The postman blows his whistle
and pops a red parcel into my box.

Laurel Lamperd

Thinking of life
I paint the chair yellow,

Thinking of joy,
I paint the cushion red.

The journey home
is a blue ribbon

Dennis Greene

Crane your head
to see over the fence

Where the grass is golden
the sun behind you

lighting up your dreamy
story, warming your skin

the water held in it
drawing all
into music

Ah hah, he grins,
a collection,
what a selection!
who needs a bone
when you have such confection?

on reflection,
it’s perfection.

Val Neubecker

INSPIRATION

Sometimes I work at a power shop, or just hang out with friends
Sometimes we watch some footy games, or jump right in a pool

Sometimes I play with my friend's dog, who has a great big grin
Sometimes I feel inspired, and jump on my painting stool

One day I felt inspired, by this dog who wears hearts on his sleeve
To capture the joy he gives, with my collage and painting tools

So here you have it, I've finished. I do hope my friend is quite pleased
And to his dog, my model, I say "Rubin, I think you're cool!"

Julienne Jushke

Water Tank
H2O in any other language

I see signs, signs of future speak
we look for places to unearth the stuff, to seed our clouds

We look to contain it
and here the perfect vehicle, this yellow tank
This secret glyph you have sent to me unwittingly

as if from the future where you saw deserts
through your perfect circle
As if                you know something I do not

Christopher Konrad


I am a water tank.
Look deep into me.
You will see treasure
more precious than
gold.

Liz Nicholls

A smiling face holds a picture
Of a dancing dog carrying lettuce
And a carrot. Rascal in tincture,
With a blue hat to set us
On a journey of salad and carrot cake.
Douglas has painted joy in his picture
Of his Mum’s dog. Photos he’ll take,
And flying adds to his daily tincture.
Such a painting we enjoy,
Where Douglas applies his daily employ.

Colleen O’Grady

Sunday in the park
I didn’t want the stick
Until you had it

Tanya Jaw

Healing

yellow floats by
sunny, warm, lifts my spirits
red all around me
gives me courage, strength
black grounds me
‘til firmly back on my feet
balancing green
gets the blood flowing
and cool blue
seals my peace of mind

Maureen Sexton

Oxford Street Friday night
Homegoers  heads averted against
Rain spattered the windscreen
Wipers wash away the neons
But they return blurred and melded to
A palette of horns tyres brakes streetlights
Cars carry them onward
Sliding and dancing into the void.

Virginia O’Keeffe

Let There Be Pink Roses

Let there be roses blushing pink,
reflecting your heart’s desire.
Let there be hope, flitting across life
like pale tinted apple blossom.
Let pink petals be all that is sweet and young,
making the world a better place.
Let pink herald a new dawn,
bringing laughter and delight,
lifting hearts up into joy.
Let there always be pink roses.

Veronica Lake

Strewn Carnations

I’ll make you a happy room,
a room where your laughter
of happiness might exceed mine,
where love could live ever after:

it’d be a wide room, white-washed,
with white tiles wall-to-wall
but, most of all, the pink carnations
(my whirlwind gift card) say it all.

Dr Glen Phillips

The Titanic

The Titanic sailed into
 a sea of ice
sturdily chugging
everyone snuggling against
weather that wasn’t so nice
the engines full thrust
forced ice to bust
forging a way through
for the passage of Titanic Two

Debra Ratcliffe

As the band plays
Stars sink into lights
Shining from the grand bow
Rippling the water

Each note builds constellations
We look at and gasp
Titanic!  Indestructible!
Titanic!

Deanne Leber

Pulling Strings

A most exciting thing
is dancing puppets on a string
controlling every move by hand
a joy you wouldn't understand
unless you're the one in control
to make them twist or rock-n-roll.
A blur of red across a black stage
describes Mathew's art upon this page.

Meryl Manoy

Etna

She strikes the night with tongues of flame
as all about her shakes
while man may pray to ancient Gods
when old Mount Etna wakes.

She reaches high into the night,
her fingers heaven bound
and spreads her evil silent cloak
of ash upon the ground.

Peter Rondel

         JELLYBEAN JINGLES

give me a palette of rainbow hues
and watch my paint-box swamp your blues
with jellybean jingles, an opal’s gleam,
my floral flock in a songbird stream,
ribbons of laughter, bright and gay;
let me flood your mood of grey!

Max Merckenschlager

What happened to my bubble scarf?
I’m sure I hung it on the chair.
Is someone playing tricks on me?
I cannot find it anywhere.

With lots of colours varied and bold,
It wraps and wraps around.
Keeping out the wind and cold,
goodness, look what I just found!

Sandra McAlpine

red silk curtains vibrate
as music waltzes through the room
notes drift up the walls
find homes in the ceiling
speakers expand
as the piece gains tempo
and I shiver with
the sound

Maureen Sexton

Opportunities for gladness

When I look at it all finished
I know it was once nothing
Until she kindly helped me
As I made it into something

If you are wondering what it is
Its was a lovely day I once had
If it helps you feel a bit happier
Then it has helped me be so glad

John McBain

For Love of Sun and Sea

I love the surf,
I love the sea,
The way waves beckon
‘Come with me!’

I’ve painted the sun,
I’ve painted the sea
In the many moods
They speak to me.

J.R.McRae

Gaia

Ancient grand mother giver of life
ascend with the rising sun
enchanting Goddess of Gaia Earth
paint me a palette of gossamer lights

Many faces has she to magnetise me
her magic and mirth to inspire
alluring enabling my gift of the arts
empowering to my greatest heights

Saz Campbell

Football Game

Arena of mud,
Sweat, tears and blood...
Go the Whites
Keep up the fight!
Go the Blues
You must not lose!
Until the final siren sounds;
Until the players leave the grounds;
Until the victory song is sung;
The battle’s on for old and young!

Catherine  Szathmary

after rain
we wait for green
push through green
plush green
soothe my eyes green
after rain
we celebrate green
conjure razzle colours

SPRING GARDEN

Ponded frogs where tadpoles cling,
life rehearsed in burst of Spring.
Autumn’s dross and Winter’s gloom
swept aside by floral bloom.

Max Merckenschlager

In Praise of the Microscope

The pond water on my slide was clear
until stained like medieval glass 
and illuminated to the power of ten 
it burst into diversity magnifying 
the glory of all life forms
 
Hallelujah
 
Hallelujah
 
Hallelujah
 
for histology

Crepuscular
 
The sun sinks low
in hollow gold

light caught in nets of glory.

Dennis Greene

Sorrento Sunset

Limoncello yellow sun smiling back at me
Refractions like blood orange chiffon
as she dips into the sea. A knowing
wink and then she’s gone
“Buona Sera Cara Mia. A Domani.”

(Translated from Italian: Good Evening My Dear. ‘Til Tomorrow)

Natasha L Adams

SLAVE SHIP

Sea deep she sleeps
darksome past pillowed in silt.
The great current clanks
slathers of shackles yet unslipped
jostles skulls   ribs   tibias.
Lashes Africa’s lost
into a timpani lament.

Jan Napier

NETS

here: a nest of nets
knuckled into shape
hurled into ocean or lake
tossed back, revealed
as foam folds into foam
revealed on wet sand
sun-dried and asking
tell my story, imagine a life
fish my strands and feel
the catch of every kind

Alistair Bain

Creation

Lightning split the firmament on the fourth day.
What terrific beauty seen with one eye.
Darkness to morning and the day was complete.

Pieces assembled created a whole,
a world of which fiends and angels sing.
Oedipus, what horror haunted his mind!

But that story assembled created a whole,
the artwork of the Greek Tragedy, a psychological theory
from a collection of separate lines.

Today a canine from fractured tiles.
  
Jake Dennis

The Sum of the Parts

Something is broken
no need to cry
an artist can mend it

Something is broken
still you can smile
an artist can make it

Something is broken
watch art unfurl

Something is pictured
sweet Daisy girl

Dr Liana Christensen