I love the randomness of poetic sparks. I embrace them with enthusiasm. They are a vital life source for poets.  This idea burst upon the scene while scanning through my twitter (X) feed earlier this week.  Social media can be mirky water to navigate, but if we move quickly past the toxic waste, there is treasure to be found.  I came across an extensive rolling conversation where contributors were suggesting possible scenarios for a funeral. Humour and quirky darkness kept me engaged. The inventiveness of the contributions was most evident. Brainstorming at its best. Ideas dripping with potential. So what has emerged from my reading that day is partly found poetry further enhanced by improvisation on text and woven into a brand new poem. I could not have foretold what would spark my poetic juices that day, but that twitter feed has sparked a poem. I am most pleased to have composed this rather subversive ode to wicked intrigue. It reminds me that we must remain open to possibility at

Hold me closer tiny dansa! Today I am devoting my energies to the dansa poetry form. It owes its orign to the Occitan language of Catalonia.  Here are the guidelines for writing the dansa: Opening quintain (or 5-line stanza) followed by quatrains (or 4-line stanzas) The opening line of the first stanza is the final line of every stanza, including the first Rhyme scheme in the opening stanza: AbbaA (capital A represents the refrain) Rhyme scheme in all other stanzas: bbaA There are no rules for subject, length, or meter. So here's my attempt at a Dansa...                     Whistler In The Winter Wind Winter is a bully An unfriendly wind slapped my face An icy blast devoid of grace I wrapped my coat more tightly around me Winter is a bully. The bus shelter offered little respite The prospect for refuge out of sight I willed the bus to arrive Winter is a bully. Then I heard whistling rising up It reached my heart, filled my cup A whiskered man, whistled defiantly Winter is a bully.

I have featured Docupoetry poems in previous posts. They combine primary source material with poetry writing. A number of sources may be accessed to inspire docupoetry. Sources include: news articles  letters  photographs  diaries, journals  court transcripts  medical records  public records  non-fiction texts reports Poets can therefore access a wide range of documents brimming with poetic potential in the pursuit of such writing.  When writing docupoetry, the poet may arrange lines or phrases from the source texts to create poems, convey their interpretation of the documents through original poetry, or write poems that fall on somewhere between these various objectives. I find this form of poetry  instantly appealing.  Yesterday in a debriefing session with a group of teacher at a nearby school, I mentioned the subject of docupoetry and they expressed interest and curiosity in this poetry form as an alternative way of conveying information. So, here's another docupoem charting Ro

 This post is in response to a request arising from an on-line poetry workshop I conducted recently titled- 'Poetry-Graffiti For The Heart.'  I was asked if I had a list of recommended poetry titles. I am often a little reticent to share such lists as I believe it is important for educators/ teachers of poetry to curate their own lists. The titles that spark my passion and interest in poetry may be different to those that inspire others. That said, I have updated a previous list of titles I hope might set the ball rolling for others. I see it as a possible starting point rather than a definitive list. I further suggest that as a teacher of poetry set aside a little time to wander through your school's library and cast an eye over the poetry collection. Have a really good look at the assembled books. Take some books from the shelves and open them and examine the poetry within the covers. If what you are seeing is a  collection of dated, unattractive titles and there doesn

 The neighbourhoods in which we live, are full of diverse characters. People with stories to tell. Unique individuals, quirky and idiosynchratic. They fascinate us. They puzzle us. They arouse our curiosity. They challenge the norms. We celebrate their difference. This poem about Keith is a composite of several individuals. It is based on people that lived in the town I grew up in and people I live amongst now. It's a character sketch, using a rich trove of information. I weaved those observations together in the creation of Keith.  An Incomplete Portrait Of Keith   Keith is a handyman Fixes all manners of things -even poker machines Learned his trade up north Speaks with a slow Queenslander drawl And often says, I reckon At the end of his sentences.   Sometimes smokes rollies Wears an old felt hat all year round Lives in a small, lightly furnished flat With boxes of old records and a cupboard full of cowboy shirts And plumber’s singlets.   The story