Competition

Highly Commended

Deracination
by Lukasz Swiatek
Sydney, NSW

We uproot this tree –
Heirloom of an
Old Country, creak on
The Breeze with a sharp Balkan tongue.

Mine are the fruits
Of its converse –
The need to displease
A ripened behest.

The bloom of canopy
In the red of the womb –
Its light on the seeds
Is verve on my breath.

Pickets no longer suffice…
The blood on the old oak
Boards holds to
Its iron loam.

Tonight, the vine entwines me –
Ivy strings like notes on
The winter, ebbing
Silent vowels in their ice.

By midmorning, each
Shovel is tired –
Their dervish around the
Boughs has concluded

And I have sent roots
Through the earth,
Strings of deception
Unravelling ceaselessly.

Grey sunlight strikes me.
A yearn.
Nudge,
And breath –
As poppies bloom in my heart.

Convalescent of nature’s
Destruction. We weep together,
And tears like glass cherries
Burst on the earth.

Each speak speak
Like a leafy tongue –
Deceit on the branches,
Mute green of life

And mute green of life.

Highly Commended

Lost mind…
by Juliet Cleary
Melbourne, Vic

The high mind of a man, once comforted by intelligence,
Now accompanied by carved instruments of gold.
The astonishing cries of unheard help, mourns in the darkness,
Leaving specks of glistening sparks in his eyes.
Tears of nothing exploit themselves,
Shedding from each eye in turn.

The scintillating patches of blue in his eyes begin to fade,
The impressions of poise melt into pressure.
The spine tingling screeches of birds approach,
While looming thoughts spread as mirages.
Plotted plans of murders come into view,
He sighs and turns away from the ones he loves.
The stinging droplets dribbling down his face, recur,
He sheds the memories that irk his nightmares.
The itching feeling of something missing draws closer,
And his high mind, overhanging an edge of fear.

He struggles to seek what he has lost,
So many events come to mind, too many.
He sways into a lonely corner of life,
Striving to get himself out of this hole.

Belligerent anger swells around his memories,
His heart, sending thwacking beats towards him,
The hellish thoughts build up inside him, creating a dangerous power,
The man feels the angst wrapping around him firmly, casting shadows over him.

The stinging scent of damp, rusted wood,
And the sweetness of the blooming flowers embellishing the walls.
He feels the pain inside his heart,
The arrival of the aching in his bones, tempted to punish him.
The man tries to wipe away the soreness of guilt,
But he feels the throbbing pain numbing his body in slow motion.

The sluggish movement of the man,
The invisible glares from strangers.
The man pulls at his chest,
Trying to remove the pain from his heart.

The man sits lonely with his bare head,
No extraordinary intelligence,
Nothing at all.
His mind lost in an immense black hole,
Full of gloomy hopes,
And broken dreams leaking out the side…

His mind is lost…forever...