Oz Lit Peer Review 5

I want more! I often try to keep my blogs brief because I’m not sure I can keep the readers interest. You may have the same belief and I will tell you from a readers perspective that I would like to know more about what you thought of this poem. I can see that it grabbed your interest and I would love to know what parts hit you hardest. I would also love to know if you figured out what “the measure” is because I could not.




Shakespeare Peer Review 6

I agree this painting is a wonderful blending of images and ideas that allows the viewer to use their imagination to add a to the already complex story taking place. You did an excellent job of describing the subject and meaning of the picture, but I would have enjoyed reading where your imagination took you. I’m sure it would be very different from mine and that can be a lot of fun.




Week 7: Thoughts about “Faces in the Street”

Henry Lawson’s poem exposes the mind numbing, spirit crushing monotony the working class toils under every day. Though technology may have improved since his time, the mundane and meaningless chores the average worker must perform in order to survive is still rife; creating a soul destroying existence for most people. One could easily watch the morbidly depressed expressions on the faces of people on their morning commute to work today and Henry Lawson’s poem would fit just as well.

His use of repetition helps to illustrate the endless miserable merry-go-round of boring tasks. I see drained and heartbroken people spending day after day performing duties that mean nothing to them simply so they can afford to live. People working in order to feed, house and clothe themselves just so that they can continue working. It sounds like an extremely cunning form of slavery in which the slaves are not even aware of their predicament.

These thoughts reminded me a poem I wrote a long time ago whilst feeling exhausted and overworked. The poem shows its age when it mentions DVD players and I am sure I would have also been talking about the older style televisions too. However the sentiment hasn’t changed and the fact that so many of us spend such a massive portion of our lives employed in such hollow activities just so that we can live seems a tragic mistake.



We are all slaves.

Slaves to other people’s greed.

More, they want,


Always more,

Never enough.


The stuff comes in,

We ship it out.

But still they want more

More TVs,

More DVD players,

More fridges.


The bosses want more.

More customers,

More sales,

More money.

It’s better for us all they say.

Don’t you want the overtime?


When they have it all,

They want newer stuff

The latest DVD player,

A bigger fridge,

A better TV.

Something else.


So we ship it out.

We get the overtime.

We get the money.

So we can buy stuff.

TVs, DVD players, fridges

Don’t you want a new car?



Week 7: A letter to Cordelia

It is difficult to write a letter of congratulations to someone for honorable actions when you know that the consequences will be so tragic. The person writing this letter would not have such hindsight. Would the person writing this letter actually know of Cordelia’s sister’s hardhearted selfishness? I was tempted to include a line like “what could possibly go wrong” or “I’m sure everything will work out for the best” but opted not to. It was an interesting exercise.


Dear Cordelia,

It is with trepidation that I write to applaud your courageous decision to not collaborate in the shallow avarice of your older sisters. I am saddened that you were unable to assist your father in seeing through their thinly veiled greed. While I wholeheartedly support your valiant and honest stance I am most troubled that the king will be left to the mercy of such self-centered and treacherous offspring.

I can only imagine the brain-freezing astonishment you must have experienced when your father placed you three sisters on the spot and requested you to exchange ass-kissing for inheritance. I can fully understand your disbelief and contempt when your sisters were all too eager to not only bow down and comply, but to actually compete with one another. This disgusting display and the distress it caused most certainly aggravated your tongue tied condition.

I do not wish to admonish your decision not to partake in such a foolish and frivolous competition, but you may have sprinkled a little sugar on your words if only to avoid banishment. I know you love and cherish your father and would certainly wish to prevent him from placing himself in such a perilous predicament. For you to play a losing but nobly attempted hand in this petty tournament would have allowed the king to maintain his illusion whilst keeping his true (if sadly unacknowledged) protectors close at hand.

You are of course the King’s daughter and not his mother and saving him from himself is not your duty. For better or worse the dice have been rolled and now we can only watch and wait. I sincerely believe you made the most virtuous decision possible under extremely difficult circumstances. I do not for one moment doubt your dedication or love for your father and can only lament his blind and egotistical foolishness.


Yours faithfully,

Sir Jarvis Winterbottom III



Week 6: Compare two poems regarding a natural Australian scene

This week I decided to try something a little different. Instead of writing a straightforward comparison of the two poems, I thought I would attempt writing a companion poem in my own words for each example. I hope it makes some kind of sense.


Musings on A Mid-Summer Noon in the Australian Forest by Charles Harpur


Lazy is my first feeling.

This landscape seems hot.

Rest for all so appealing.

A prize to find a cool spot.


A tiny bug captures my attention.

Fascination slowly takes hold.

The world at large held in suspension.

While this enchanting bug I behold.


Such peace requires no plunder.

Just to laze and admire the astounding

Nature and all of her wonder.

Her beauty and power abounding.




Musings on Bell-Birds by Henry Kendall


The beginning of this one more lively.

The rhythm and rhyme rolls along.

Immersed in all this it’s quite likely

To find one’s self caught up in the throng.


By the bell-bird’s song mesmerized.

Merging one’s self into nature.

This sublime connection realized.

For one moment experiencing rapture.


Now an adult I live in the city.

An uninspired soul in the sprawl.

Before I submit to self-pity,

This joyous memory I recall.



Week 6: Poem inspired by Shakespeare’s Sonnet 30

It’s so easy to allow the past to haunt us. It’s not so easy to let it go, or to write poetry for that matter, so here goes nothing…


Completely immersed in thoughts of naught.

That one word arrives uninvited.

The scar torn open and anguish reborn.

Once again my identity spited.


Damn them!


One word,

One insult,

One memory,

So much power it holds.


Damn it!


The moment gone by.

Yet I re-visit these roasts.

Fuel for this grief I supply.

My tormentor’s but ghosts.




I drink this poison and only I shall suffer.

Live and let live, return to the now.

Recall when you next wish to libel another.

This pain it may teach if you allow.


Well I’ll be damned.


Oz Lit Peer Review 3

This is still my favorite painting in the gallery! I can stare at it and get lost in there. I haven’t had the chance to visit NZ yet, but Milford Sound is at the top of my list of places to see. I think this picture comes extremely close to actually capturing the sublime. Supreme beauty combined with awe inspiring magnificence which forces a person to experience their insignificance.