Warning: Declaration of Walker_Nav_Menu_Dropdown::start_lvl(&$output, $depth) should be compatible with Walker_Nav_Menu::start_lvl(&$output, $depth = 0, $args = Array) in /home/soso2263/public_html/wp-content/themes/organic_magazine/functions.php on line 371

Warning: Declaration of Walker_Nav_Menu_Dropdown::end_lvl(&$output, $depth) should be compatible with Walker_Nav_Menu::end_lvl(&$output, $depth = 0, $args = Array) in /home/soso2263/public_html/wp-content/themes/organic_magazine/functions.php on line 371

Warning: Declaration of Walker_Nav_Menu_Dropdown::start_el(&$output, $item, $depth, $args) should be compatible with Walker_Nav_Menu::start_el(&$output, $item, $depth = 0, $args = Array, $id = 0) in /home/soso2263/public_html/wp-content/themes/organic_magazine/functions.php on line 371

Warning: Declaration of Walker_Nav_Menu_Dropdown::end_el(&$output, $item, $depth) should be compatible with Walker_Nav_Menu::end_el(&$output, $item, $depth = 0, $args = Array) in /home/soso2263/public_html/wp-content/themes/organic_magazine/functions.php on line 371
Wordplays | South Sydney Herald South Sydney Herald



Wordplay group meets on the first Saturday of the month, 12pm at Woolpack Hotel, Chalmers St, Redfern. All welcome.


Dark Blue Street

How easy to dive in and drown

But twice alive by force of gravity

On a dark blue street

in a tourist town

No surfer woman to save me


Letters and drawings overlap

Seeing and dreaming combine

Resting my eyes under trees

where the horses nap

A second presence in the sign


My heart like an African drum

Loving more, bearing the cost

The drumming wind,

wherever it’s coming from

Transcendence that matters most


“All right, let’s get to work”

Says the teacher as a silence descends

The jingle of the keys on the nail

a tell-tale quirk

A still time for making amends


Disoriented for so long

Doing everything wrong

Expending all energy to no benefit

Can I even remember it?

  • Andrew Collis



Poet’s Corner, Elwood

Ambushed, attacked

with dedication,

dragged to die

in the undergrowth

bordering a suburban path


her red beret,

broken purse strap, clippings

spread across the concrete

disrupting the grooves

intended to control cracking


he knew her habits

her walk insouciant with the night’s

talk beneath flowering lamps,

visions of a sweet disorder

and a new world


flickered still

as she fell, his finger nails

incising her private skin

with public pain, he meant

to exorcise her sin.

  • Catherine Skipper

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *