A lunchtime announcement in a school often floats above the consciousness of its intended audience.  The noise of the playground, conversations among teachers across their often busy lunch break, all diminish the impact of the message. The words become wallpaper. As I sat in a school staff-room on one of my visits, the following announcement was shared over the speakers.  ‘If anyone has seen Ruby Delfonzo’s lunch could they bring it to the office please. The lunchbox is bright red with green tipped corners and a bright green handle.’  I grinned as I listened to this brief announcement. For me, it was brimming with potential. It was gold. My mind whirred into action. What a great name, I thought. Ruby Delfonzo sounds like a character in a novel. Distinctive, unforgettable. It's such a strong name. The lunchbox description built a strong visual image. And clearly this was no ordinary lunchbox with its contrasting colours. Probably hard to lose… RUBY DELFONZO’S LUNCHBOX IS MISSING R

This week, I am hungry for poems about food.  Food is such a universal topic to explore.    I have chosen a couple of poems from an unpublished anthology.  These poems take a deliberatly irreverant look at the menu. We all have food experiences -some wierd, some wonderful. Here are  two poems to nibble on as an entree.  Bon Appetit!  ALL YOU CAN EAT There’s a sign above the door At the Maggoty Cat Café Stating, if you can eat the menu -Then you don’t have to pay. The servings are substantial They make that very clear The waiters guide you to your seat As they grin from ear to ear. They start with tuna eye balls Then bring you chicken feet Bird’s nest soup and frog’s legs A gourmandiser’s treat. Next up, they serve wasp crackers And rattlesnake they’ve fried They finish up with jellied eels With a large serve of Spam on the side. Alan j Wright MAVIS DINES OUT Mavis had a little lamb Then,she ate some cakes Some Shepherd’s Pie, A jug of milk, And a bag of jelly snakes. The people in the

I have found myself provoked into action by fellow Poetry Friday poets and the attention they have been giving to prose poetry.I wanted to go to this same place. It sounded so intriguing.  I quickly settled on a theme -travel experiences. I delved into a vast collection of entries in an unpublished manuscript tentatively called -Inklings, for they all originated from writer's notebook entries across more than forty years. So this is a sample of a new anthology  currently under construction with the draft title -Travel Seen. Economical Exfoliation Young American woman walks to the water's edge on Seminyak Beach. Assuming a Buddha pose she begins scooping handfuls of shoreline sand, covering her entire body with a wet, black, gritty application of a clearly abundant natural resource. With admirable flexibility she covers her entire back, rubbing, rubbing, exfoliating her skin with this plentiful gritty application. She stands, removes her sunglasses and wide brimmed hat before pa

We write with our ears said, Ralph Fletcher -and Ralph is right. Last week, I overheard a cafe conversation- I do this a lot. They provide classic collectables, constantly stimulating and sparking writing ideas. It  went like this... A woman walks into the cafe where her friend is waiting. The friend inquires- 'Where's Keith?' 'Oh, he's at home. I left him to his own devices....' That was all I needed to hear. My mind came alive with possibilities. I rehearsed words and then I opened my notebook and began to trap some words. Keith morphed into Gordon and everything followed on from that point.  Gordon's Love Of Gadgets Gordon loved his telescope His microscope His gyroscope   Gordon loved his electric mower His leaf   blower His seed sower   Gordon loved his Android phone His trombone His grindstone   Madeline, his long suffering spouse of thirty years Eventually ran out of tears So neglected, so alone Flew the coop, departed ho