tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8703017865671359182011-11-28T11:12:21.688+11:00short fiction,poetry, musings...gumgalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17023731901196536346noreply@blogger.comBlogger31100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870301786567135918.post-74389737334933361212011-03-10T08:40:00.003+11:002011-03-10T08:40:53.516+11:00<div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/870301786567135918-7438973733493336121?l=gumgal.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>gumgalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17023731901196536346noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870301786567135918.post-4563009677528066982009-04-18T13:46:00.003+10:002009-12-05T05:13:37.403+11:00Walking up and down the promenade<br />Waves crashing down<br />People passing by<br /><br />A storm erupts<br />It’s wintertime<br />And the beach is empty.<br />Locals mill around their favourite coffee shops<br />Buying gourmet pet food for their little darlings<br />As Nushet and I are stuck on the other side<br />Confused about some location of the icebreakers<br />We realise too late we’re in some crumbling cement changeroom<br />That’s about to be demolished for the sleeker packer development<br />With designated community halls of course inserted<br />There’s no gym because that was condemned in 1986<br />After that last Bondi storm<br /><br />So dripping of salty storm water we flag down a bus<br />And saunter non-too gracefully<br />To my ghost ridden semi<br />Down Birrell St way<br /><br />1998<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/870301786567135918-456300967752806698?l=gumgal.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>gumgalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17023731901196536346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870301786567135918.post-24865314920065974752009-04-18T13:34:00.001+10:002009-04-18T13:37:08.751+10:00Ziggy hadn’t been home in a one while. It's not that she hated her parents. She just found them extremely boring, as well as the steeple across the road. Well it wasn’t directly in view of her front bedroom window but it might as well as seen. All horizons to the west faced McDonalds he Mormons and you had to hide in some stranger's mini to dodge them on the footpath.<br /><br />What is this that I'm doing right now. Is it worth doing what I do or should I just let life coast me down to a beaten pulp and take any job that finds me whether I want it or not. I'll sit and wait till the ice takes over and the mind is blank and dead. Unable to complain anymore as there is no one bothered to listen right now. Or is that what's happening now. You talk yet no one listens.<br /><br />The wind picks it up and it flows like lost conversations yet to be heard and left unhindered.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/870301786567135918-2486531492006597475?l=gumgal.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>gumgalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17023731901196536346noreply@blogger.com0