I've been pondering my digital password problems recently. They need to be consistently inconsistent in order to thwart the evil intent of on-line hackers and assorted ner' do wells out in digital space.   It's become a constant bugbear having to monitor and update these pesky passwords.  I know, full well, I am not alone here... So, this poem could be classified as a Rant poem.  What gets on your wick? What drives you bananas? Do you have a life irritation you need to scratch? Poetry exists in things. This time my thing is-passwords! Please Confirm Your Password   Everywhere I wander in digital space My digital security My password purity Is constantly questioned I feel impudent on the internet I’m too weak Not strong enough Try again, that’s wrong Make it unique Change it regularly like jocks and socks Make it easy to remember Impossible to hack -Go random consider a sprinkling of letters, numbers, symbols Upper case Lo...

Allow me to begin by thanking fellow poet, Irene Latham for alerting me to my personal affiliation with matters 'moony.'  I dug back into my poetry vault and unearthed a couple of poems celebrating some moony  moments. The moon has been a recurring theme in my writing. As a boy I pondered much thought regarding its magnificence. I would lie in my bed staring out the window imagining I could see a face on that distant orb.  I witnessed Neil Armstrong's first tentative steps upon its surface viewing this momentous moment, on a somewhat grainy black and white television set, during my initial year of teaching.  I have stood under its full beaming reflection in the middle of Australia's heartland and marveled at the light it provided in that vast open space.  I can still hear my father crooning the words, 'Blue moon, I saw you standing alone...' The moon even features in the title of one my poetry anthologies. The moon has featured in many phases of my life. So,it i...

When the Covid Pandemic spread across the world, I began a number of projects as a response to some of the pessimism that arose within my community and beyond.  I became inspired by the incredible creativity and resilience that simultaneously arose at this time in various parts of the world. Some great diversionary tactics were called upon to stop a predictable descent into darker places.  I felt a need to act.     The Poet Tree   project commenced in August 2020.  I decided to post a poem on a large eucalypt tree in the  Fisherman's Beach Reserve directly behind our house. We are able to access this greened space via a gate. Every day, people walk  along this greened, open area with their dogs, children, friends. The idea was to share a short poem sprinkled with humour and optimism in the hope it would lift the collective spirits- mine included. Occasionally, other poets attached poems to the tree. I have also received feedback in the form of app...

Today, I am thinking, 'natural encounters.' Across the years I have had solitary encounters with snakes and dolphins, foxes and a platypus, among others.  Such encounters tend to remain with us as vivid memories. One encounter in particular has glowed brightly in my mind across the years. It happened way back when I was only twelve years old while wandering beside the Sassafras Creek in my childhood home town, Monbulk. A very special one off  E ncounters with nature, or characters in human form, provide a rich territory for the writing of poetry. I urge you to put on your explorer boots and go in search of those encounter memories. I strongly suspect you will tap into a rich vein of poetic potential. Brief Encounter With A Trout   My extended backyard sloped down the valley hills, creeks and forests beckoning the young explorer This space under the sky a natural theme park for untamed wandering For glorious expeditions   Aged twelve I wandered i...

Boketto- an explanation... 'A few years back, I came across a concept called boketto. Boketto is a Japanese word that really doesn’t translate into English very well. But, the idea of boketto is akin to staring at the sky or into the distance without a thought… getting lost in one’s own self; removing the self from a place mentally. There is no regard to the past and no connection to the future. There is only THIS moment.' Walter J Wojtanik inventor of the boketto The boketto consists of TWO stanzas,  one of five lines (30 syllables – 7, 7, 7, 4, 5)  and a three-line stanza (17 syllables – two seven syllable lines  and a three-syllable line.  Rhyme is not required.   The subject is strictly arbitrary: It expresses a single moment in time! My boketto attempts to capture a small moment witnessed in a classroom, recently.   The Young Writer Approaches Entering the room, smiling Jade holds up her writing piece A smile owns all her face She beams broadly Th...