Have a read of my poem ‘Breaking Out’, first published in the Canberra Times Panorama Arts Section. ‘Breaking Out’ is one of the poems in my recently released second collection titled ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘ (Ginninderra Press).
Have a read of my poem ‘What Happened to the Sun‘ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘What Happened to the Sun‘ is one of the poems in my debut poetry collection ‘The Cellist, a Bellydancer & Other Distractions‘ (Ginninderra Press).
Have a read of my poem, ‘Holding On’ first published in Old Water Rat Publishing. ‘Holding On’ is one of the pieces in my second poetry collection recently released by Ginninderra Press titled ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘.
I hope you enjoy it.
Holding On:
When we are wet and cold,
we shelter under umbrellas & awnings.
When a lizard is wet and cold—often seeming
frozen or dead—they drop from trees, stunned.
They’ve shut down, no longer able to hold on.
It’s true they like to wake up in the warm sun,
just like us, even though they are cold-blooded.
Maybe a blue-tongue lizard’s easy-going nature
is what makes them a popular pet.
Maybe it’s their striking blue tongue.
You see lizards climbing the brick facade
of your house as the rain keeps pelting down.
They may hibernate in a hole in the ground,
or maybe a tree trunk or a fallen log.
City living is challenging if you’re
clinging to walls & windows. Scaling
a windowpane without falling off is one thing.
When enemies approach, some reptiles,
nicknamed the Jesus Christ lizard, can run on water.
If surprised by a predator, some lizards can detach
their tails or change colour to escape their enemies.
Have a read of my poem, ‘Regrets’ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘Regrets’ is one of the poems in my recently published second poetry collection, ‘Flat White, One Sugar’ (Gininnderra Press).
I hope you enjoy it.
Regrets:
Driving through the streets of the city
on a Sunday, we’re talking about
our crazy mistakes, the men we separated from,
the ex-husbands who remarried and married again,
those we shouldn’t have let go.
‘Yes, it’s hard having no-one to turn to,’ you say,
reversing into a “no stopping” space.
The signpost doesn’t mention Sundays.
You turn the ignition off
and cover your face with your hands.
‘I’m so hopeless at parking,’ you cry. ‘He used to tell me
we’d need to catch a cab to the kerb.’
I laugh and pat your shoulder.
‘It’s fine,’ I say. ‘You’re sticking out a bit in front,
but you can try again … or not. Nothing’s perfect.’
Have a read of my prose poem, ‘When the New Boyfriend Nearly Died’ first published in Quadrant Magazine. The poem is included in my second poetry collection titled ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘, released this month by Ginninderra Press.
Hope you enjoy it.
When the New Boyfriend Nearly Died:
In the hospital’s public toilet, your face pleads back at you, white and worried. Far as you know, your new boyfriend had a heart attack while bouncing between your child-bearing hips. Too much of a strain. It’s not your fault. When he was admitted to Emergency you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again.
After five hours of waiting, you ask the receptionist if you can go in. When she asks you, you can’t pronounce his Polish surname. You spell out the letters. She considers you through the gap in the partition. You tell her you’re his new girlfriend. So you’re the one, she must be thinking before pressing the red button that lets you in.
He is lying in bed, a canula in his arm. His eyes are closed. You sit in a chair beside him and hold his hand. This would never have happened if it weren’t for you. Nurses and doctors hurry past clutching clipboards.
Don’t die on me, you plead.
If he dies, what you will miss are his text messages of love, the thwack of his body, and the pots of Japanese tea you shared. In bed you’d sip from tiny ceramic mugs.
You make a mental list of your strengths and weaknesses: you’re good at hedonistic pleasures, bad at Cryptics, bad at lonely Sundays, good at making new friends, bad at staying in touch, good at making loose-leaf tea after sex with an addict, good at falling for men who can’t stop swallowing uppers and downers. Good at loving your new boyfriend who took too many pills and now you’re worried he’ll die. Are you dreaming, or did he just squeeze your hand?
Have a read of my poem ‘Jogger At My Heels’ first published in The Canberra Times. It is one of the poems in my second poetry collection, ‘Flat White, One Sugar’ due for release by Ginninderra Press this year. 51 new poems by me, 21 illustrations by my granddaughter, Natasha Sommer, a graduate of The National Art School.
Have a read of my poem ‘Here’, first published in Blue Fringe Art & Literature Exhibition 2021 Collected Works. The poem is also part of my debut poetry collection ‘The Cellist, a Bellydancer & Other Distractions‘ (Ginninderra Press).
Have a read of my poem, ‘Distraction’ first published in Burrow, Old Water Rat Publishing. It is one of the poems in my debut poetry collection, ‘The Cellist, a Bellydancer & Other Distractions‘ (Ginninderra Press) 2022.
Libby Sommer, Author 