Poetry Blog by Frances Macaulay Forde
I swapped four solid walls for the Big Top
tent, seduced by the Ring Master’s red coat.
His smile dazzled my eyes, silver tongue
promised to transport my heart & soul
so I grabbed his hook, was lifted high above
the crowd, posed with one leg bent, foot
thrust forward full of confidence – secure,
instead of carefully climbing to the platform.
The ascent is slow, m...
Saturday 21st July 2018 3:19 am
Sunday 15th July 2018 3:33 am
Rain hits my umbrella
Spreading my pain
Relections of you
Love like rain
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2009
Written to the artwork of Jessica McCallum for her exhibition 'Raincheck' at His Majesty's Theatre, 2009.
Wednesday 11th July 2018 5:51 am
Dank, dusty, sweat-smells
in the soft blue light
props on the table
in regimental order
for Act 1, 2, 3.
Black on white sign
‘Silence during Performance’.
Soft sneakers gently press
in front of each other.
- considered care.
Saturday 7th July 2018 3:46 pm
Once again, I am re-reading favourite poems contained in a treasury of words from David’s book, ‘After Hours’:
‘Ornithology’ is a stand out, as are every one in the ‘After Hours’ section, lovingly sculpted and so relatable to my own father…
‘Last orders’ – we lived near the Jameson factory in Midleton.
‘Redundancy’ and the name o...
Saturday 7th July 2018 3:47 am
Thursday 5th July 2018 2:31 am
‘Every revolution needs a soundtrack.’
Sugar Man, America rejected you, six copies sold or so.
Fame laughed and left as your dreams shattered, playing
face-hidden, back-turned, in down-town bars and discos.
Just one of the six carried your voice to free our country.
Searching, it took a fan to reveal your struggle - hard days!
Once we taste your passion, ingest the word...
Monday 2nd July 2018 2:14 am
A snake that wraps
its slimy body
It has a bite
that transmits itself
into the other person.
How to ward off
it’s terrible grip?
Best to stand still
heart - bite your lip.
Best not to move
or show when you're
in its grasp,
though your eyes
are green and all
Monday 25th June 2018 1:11 pm
you trod the path
to my front door
never rang the bell
played favourite songs
over and over until
senses on overload
surrounded by romance
you kissed me quick
heart pumped electric
singing over barriers
erected years ago
against pain and hurt
welcomed as veins
joined the chorus
Thursday 21st June 2018 4:06 am
Your 50 Zambian years means I am 50 years older.
I was at school when you became independent
but your Independence triggered my own at 14.
Not wanting to repeat a year I had just finished,
I refused and found myself a job, instead. My
idyllic childhood safe in Mother Africa's arms
meant we learnt young to be strong, resilient
finding our ow...
Tuesday 19th June 2018 4:05 am
Welcome or not,
uninvited you came
to have your way.
Clearing a path
for your arrival,
making sure all
knew you intended
to make an impression
- one not easily forgotten.
want to meet Yasi.
She knows he will
strip her naked
knock her down flat
suck all her power
then drown her in his wake.
Wednesday 13th June 2018 6:26 pm
I don’t need a Bell Curve
showing the Probability of Distribution
nor an economist theorizing
about the Positive Externalities
this is no pie in the sky nor castle in the air
although this romance a novelty for me
an invention of a future
love is a collaborative result
a breakthrough i...
Saturday 9th June 2018 4:21 am
The young hare
on country roads,
dancing with danger.
Ears flat back along,
legs pumping, stretched out
in thumping rhythm.
Identify fatal perfumes
inviting the innocent,
Friday 8th June 2018 3:31 am
McDaid’s Folk Club
We carefully stepped through the seated crowd,
she smiled in surprised delight
and pulled you down
to whisper invitingly.
I watched the young guitarist finger-pick,
thought about her possessive
hand placed on
your willing arm and felt sick.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
(From 'Sketching in Ireland', written during 14 inspiring mo...
Sunday 3rd June 2018 4:11 am
Nice to know poetry
is given such credence:
tabled with four chairs,
words shared and written.
My take on coffee, sitting
on this Chrystal morning,
right next to the beach?
As waves crash foamed,
I smile at my flat white
and it's feathered froth...
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
Written whilst Poet in Residence for 6 months in 2013, represen...
Thursday 31st May 2018 4:54 am
I have so many Pinterest boards,
they overwhelm me...
but it’s necessary I check them
every night before sleep.
Gazing at the beautiful photos
calms me, prepares me for rest.
It’s a mystery - drives hubby mad
considering for hours...
glittering jewels, intricate designs,
Royal fashion icons addictively
Tuesday 29th May 2018 5:38 am
Trips into Town.
It’s a game I play on my way to work wearing my HBF uniform. Another day of routine smiles and customer queries beckons. When the monotony gets too much, I wear the seahorse broach my son gave me for my birthday.
With the announcement “Next station Perth!” I focus my energies. As we squeal into the Leederville Tunnel, the ligh...
Friday 25th May 2018 4:29 am
Where it is said ‘Our Lady appeared ‘ to Knock faithful,
enterprising vendors parade their wares on sidewalks.
You’ll find a large range of rosary beads
hanging in silent prayer – necklaces of every hue
to match any outfit you choose – posing for photos.
1 hour processing while you worship, Extra film,
Holy Water Bottles in the shape of Mary,
small enough to send hom...
Sunday 13th May 2018 3:29 am
I see red
when you raise spikes
along the metal shaft,
sharply snap it open,
stretching the bright silk
above your head
I see red
a mobile patio –shelter,
protection from storms,
hurling lightning bolts
of tears from women
left wet in your wake.
I see red
in a sea of bobbing grey
the calm sway - swagger...
Monday 7th May 2018 4:19 am
Red used to be my favourite colour.
I’d just get Tinkerbell (my 1983 Mitsubishi Colt)
cruising nicely at sixty kilometres an hour
I’d have to slow down.
Pump the brakes.
Change gears gingerly in case her clutch drops out….
An old girl now, she needs TLC…
takes her time to build up speed,
then I see red. (Or orange.)
Thursday 3rd May 2018 3:53 am
Two fans enthusiastically spin amongst
a pile of rubbish waiting for pick up,
Through wind and rain, even thunder,
“Look at me!” but nothing moves.
Unlike No 2’s plant pots. Scattered
colourful rattles voicing the gusts.
Drive-bys; inspection opportunists.
Recycling on a budget or business,
Sunday 29th April 2018 6:16 pm
Snorkelling with rainbows
just past the breaking surf,
I see the red rocky shores
of the North West Cape.
Shimmering white sands where
Coastal Daisies, starflowers
and Sturt Peas grope to grip
harsh hot terrain in fighting wind.
At Easter, a hundred yards off
the bay, coral triggers upside down
snowstorms to invite gentle giants
Friday 27th April 2018 3:24 am
The White Gate
The path is Agapanthus strewn
Freedom for Women colours;
green and purple heads bob
in the Freo Doctor, interrupted
by blossoms which match the gate.
Hung upon squat solid upright stone,
it swings inwards, inviting entry
to this secret garden, lusted with
love, Christmas feasts, familial
fecundity, rapturously shared.
Tuesday 24th April 2018 2:32 am
You Stare At Me
you stare at me
I am here
what I will do
wear your skin
drink you dry
strain and grain
make holes in
blue and vein
you stare at me
I am here
what I will do
slice and dice
grind your bones
roast and fry...
Wednesday 11th April 2018 9:03 am
Epitaph for Gregory O’Donoghue
Seasoned, some will remember boozy lunches,
Tuna sandwiches peppered with slurred words
plated on sliced lettuce arranged ‘just so’...
Guinness frothed and creamy with subtext.
An Irish summer warm with purpose shared
eloquently with a visiting Australian at exclusive
Wednesday morning workshops obstinately
overseen each week, by a r...
Sunday 8th April 2018 3:41 am
‘I used to enjoy knitting…’
…enjoyed the sound of needles, click-
clacking as they struck against each
other plunging between stitches, metal
spearing and separating through soft wool.
Fingers swayed in a romantic dance above
the work to create a loop around its prey.
The whole hand grasps and manipulates,
taking the wool on a move back through,
glorying in the...
Wednesday 4th April 2018 2:55 am
Haiku at Burns Beach Cafe
Infant in pink
Nanna’s careful looping
call of life’s patterns
crocheted with love
Wanting to freeze
frame glympses, keep sakes
in dated order
familial purl noted
before casting off
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
Sunday 1st April 2018 1:33 am
What can you say when a dear friend passes away?
That they were good and kind and loved my many?
That they were respected and stood by their beliefs
And are sadly mourned by the ones who weep?
Though we realise this must come to us all
inevitably ~ how hard to accept when death
is so final. When someone you’ve talked to and
done things for has suddenly sto...
Friday 30th March 2018 4:00 am
This is the audio/video of my reading of the poem
"Before you..." https://youtu.be/JSnBORlfTsk
Before you, I slept in
a bed without creases.
Only pulled up sheets
to straighten - smooth,
no effort at all! Ready
for the next dreamtime.
Now, I love my wrinkles...
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2006
Tuesday 27th March 2018 2:26 pm
I want to be so sweet
you can’t resist.
To treasure your desire
by lying in wait for
your lips, your tongue
to lick, nibble, devour
swallow me whole!
I want to imprint your
pallet with my being
so no other flavour
will satisfy your hunger
because ~ you would rather
starve than be without
Wednesday 14th February 2018 2:37 am
Before we met,
my heart was young,
it showed its reactions
Worn on my sleeve,
it was easy to know,
easy to see feelings
come and go.
But since we've met,
my heart's a closed door,
no-one knows the hurt
or happiness anymore.
Not even you - and you
hold the key but what
is the good when
you don't love me?
Friday 9th February 2018 4:46 am
11.11am 7th March 2003
I took a break between
for the ‘Broadsheet Anthology’
to make a cup of coffee
ever-present TV News
necessary to keep up with
my other world - the one
I refuse to acknowledge
most of the time…
amongst the t...
Tuesday 6th February 2018 3:15 am
jarrahs and tuarts
fluff their leaf skirts
expose naked arms
to the endless sky
for a cure
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2006
Published P65 - Sept 06 - Poets Union Inc. Anthology 2006
NOTE: What is 'Dieback' - https://www.dpaw.wa.gov...
Thursday 1st February 2018 3:10 am
Thursday 25th January 2018 3:09 am
The first lemon
Drink the bitter
Taste the craft
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2018
(In the New Year, a friend posted a photo on Facebook of a lemon picked off his tree and the new (hand-made) juicer he's received for Christmas, and I felt a 'poem' coming on... )
Friday 5th January 2018 3:43 am
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