Friday, April 24, 2026
Friday Writing #224: Just Desserts
Thursday, April 16, 2026
Friday Writings #223: Why Bother?
Hello again, dear Word Weavers.
I may have mentioned that I'm a devoted subscriber to The Red Hand Files, in which musician Nick Cave answers questions from his public – any questions. I like his music a lot, though not enough to be besotted nor even to know it well, and I forget how I came across The Red Hand Files, but I love these pieces of writing for their honesty, thoughtfulness, kindness and genuine humility. Also I guess I just like his mind, as revealed in them. There's an innate, albeit intangible Australianness which I naturally respond to, but he is of course an individual as we all are, and I like his individual quirkiness too.
Anyway, see for yourselves! Please have a read, right now, of this recent post. Go on! It's not long, and much of what he says applies to poets as well as singer-songwriters. Besides, you need to, to fully understand this week's prompt.
This week's (optional) prompt: Having read the piece, please tell us, how would YOU answer ‘this most dark and demoralised question: “This world has no meaning. Why fucking bother?”’? (Yes, it's OK to agree with Mr Cave's own thinking on the matter.)
Guidelines: Poetry
or prose, old or new, on prompt or not, 369 words maximum (excluding
title and notes), one post per person and link to that post below.
Please link to us here at your post, please read what the rest of us
submit (not forgetting to check back for those who arrive at the end of
the week) and leave us some encouraging comments. You are of course
welcome to make comments or ask questions here too.
And here's something pertinent by another brilliant Aussie, the late and beloved Michael Leunig, who was both cartoonist and poet:
Next week: We shall ask you to write about dessert(s)!
Friday, April 10, 2026
Friday Writings #222: Legacies
Hello, word artists and admirers! As many of you know, I've been a student of Japanese tea ceremony for over a decade. In that time, I've gotten to meet other nice, tea-obsessed folks. Terry was one of them. She was endlessly enthusiastic about tea, and life in general. She also was the first person to encourage me to do a public tea demonstration. Sadly, last year Terry passed away. In her last few weeks she made it a point to share tea and some of her well loved tea-treasures with other members of the tea school. I was very honored to receive a special bag, made from one of her obi, that I could use at events to hold my tea things.
Every time I use it, I will think of her encouraging voice.
So in honor of Terry, and her legacy of encouragement and hospitality, this week's optional prompt will be about legacies, either one legacy in specific or the idea of legacies in general. I'll accept fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Just be sure to keep your pieces to 369 words or fewer and one entry per person please.
Next week, we shall ask you to answer the question, 'The world feels completely meaningless. Why f**king bother?'
Friday, April 3, 2026
Friday Writings #221: April Quotes
Friday, March 27, 2026
Friday Writings #220: Feeling Deeply
Dear Fellow Word Weavers,
(As I've already mentioned recently) at age 86, with approximately 20 years since publication of my last full volume of poetry (as distinct from chapbooks and collaborations) – Secret Leopard: New & Selected Poems 1974–2005, which is now only available as an ebook – I thought it was time to look through my blogged poems from 2006 onwards, to assemble either a new great big book or several chapbooks on different themes.
I’ve started labelling the poems by themes, as well as marking
them with a tick, cross or question mark.
I began with the earliest, written in 2006 (on my old blog, 'The Passionate Crone') – and was soon blown away by their stunning mediocrity! What’s worse than writing a really bad poem? Writing a mediocre one. (Of course mediocre is a form of ‘bad,’ but a form that is not even interestingly atrocious.) I do hope I’ll see some improvement in my later writings, but at this stage I can’t be sure.
Perhaps it is partly to do with writing to prompts and/or churning things out daily for particular projects such as the April poetry month, plus not going back to revise – or not back far enough, anyway. (Revising too soon can mean I still miss things, not having gained sufficient objectivity yet.)
It all made me remember a Poets Union event in Melbourne years ago, when a panel of poets onstage discussed a question, the exact wording of which I've long forgotten, but it was along the lines of, ‘What’s the essential ingredient for good poetry?’ They were all pontificating solemnly and boringly, and arriving at no conclusion, then Adelaide poet Jenny Boult (later known as MLL Bliss) put up her hand from the audience, and yelled out in her characteristically smoky voice, ‘Deeply felt, for God’s sake – deeply felt!’ She brought the discussion to a sudden halt, as we all instantly recognised the truth of what she said.
Sure enough, my few pieces so far that seem worth putting into a book were written from deep feeling.
Another recollection is of my late friend Ridge, who was not a poet but a clairvoyant, getting a message for me from his guides (or maybe from mine): ‘Let the poems come to you; don’t you chase the poems.’ I didn’t altogether follow this advice, of course, which is one reason for now thinking belatedly that maybe writing to prompts was not my best idea.
Ah but, we all need to practise the craft, don’t we, and what better time than when we’re between our great inspirations? And sometimes – bonus! – what was intended as a mere exercise turns out to be a poem worth sharing with the world. So I’m not going to repine at this late stage.
I also have to take responsibility for the fact that I have often quite deliberately cultivated a low-key, conversational tone – which, I see now, can perhaps slip too readily into the mundane. Which is not a matter of feeling so much as style.
However, to write from deep feeling seems to take care of style.
Your optional prompt this week, then, is to write on something about which you feel deeply.
Reminder: Remember, you are always free to ignore or even subvert the prompt. Or you might choose to write about deep feelings instead of – or as well as – with them.
Guidelines: One post per person, 369 words max (excluding title and any notes), on prompt or off, old or new, verse or prose. Please enjoy reading and commenting on what others share; and chat to us in the comments below if you wish or need. (Also, take a quick glance at those comments below; some may be meant for you personally, not only for the admin team.)
Next week: We will invite you to find inspiration in one of the following quotes:
1. “Although I was born in April, I’m quite certain I was not fully awake until October.” ~ Peggy Toney Horton
2. “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” ~ George Orwell
3. “April is the kindest month. April gets you out of your head and out working in the garden.” ~ Marty Rubin
4. “It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
5. “April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull root with spring rain.” ~ T. S. Eliot
Friday, March 20, 2026
Friday Writings #219: Looking Back
Friday, March 13, 2026
Friday Writings #218: The World Is Burning, But…
I am
cranky, my dear poets and storytellers. Constant throbbing pain has that
effect on me. Sometimes, my crankiness tries to get the better of me, nudges me
to glare and bare my teeth at random people. Then I remind myself of the good
things: My insurance pays for all these surgeries, my body and mind can
withstand the physical trauma and mental stress, my spouse adores me, spring
will be here soon (and
I’ll get to garden!), I
have excellent friends, I’m not alone…
Those thoughts brewed today’s optional prompt: please, share poetry or prose which includes the following phrase: “the world is burning, but…”
Add the direct link to your response to Mister Linky. One post per participant. 369 words maximum. Share old or new pieces. Write to the prompt or to a topic of your choosing. Visit other writers. Comment on the wonders they ink into the world.
next week,
we’ll invite you to find inspiration in the phrase, “looking
back”.
Friday, March 6, 2026
Friday Writings #217: Your Message to the World
Dearest
Word Weavers,
Lately I’ve been looking through my prolific output of blogged poems, to see which ones might be worth collecting in a book. Or maybe they need different books with different themes. So many are about the trivia of my personal life! That doesn’t necessarily make them ‘bad’ poetry, or uninteresting – but I wonder what I have to describe which other people haven’t already experienced and come to terms with. What, I ask myself, do I have to say that is worth hearing?
And is it necessary to say different things in different poems – new things? Hmm, perhaps, if each of those things matters. But maybe some things bear repetition.
I
think of Mary Oliver, so widely beloved (including by me). She basically gave
us the same message over and over again: pay attention to our beautiful earth;
it’s worth it, it matters, it’s supremely important. I think that’s a message
worth repeating; in fact I think we can’t repeat it often enough! And Oliver’s
uniquely beautiful, direct, deceptively simple poetry made it new every time.
She knew how to touch hearts!
What do you think? Perhaps sharing our human experiences is enough? Or is it better to use whatever platform we have to say something more arresting, and/or more vital? If you decided to try and deliver a crucial message to the world, what would it be?
Optional prompt this week: Please (a) write for us your personal message to the rest of humanity, the thing you most need to communicate, on the assumption that all humanity will get to read it and take note, or (b) write about why you are not going to do that.
Guidelines: Poetry or prose, old or new, on prompt or not, 369 words maximum (excluding title and notes), one post per person, link to that post below. Please link to us here at your post, please read what the rest of us submit and leave us some encouraging comments, and you are welcome to make comments or ask questions here too.
Next Week: We will invite you to share writing which includes the following phrase: “the world is burning, but…”
Friday, February 27, 2026
Friday Writings #216: Just Dance
Hello, Word Artists and Admirers! Inspiration can come to us in so many different ways. It can show up when you're watching the most amazing sunset surrounded by friends. It can come to you in the shower as you're rinsing out your shampoo. It can also come to you when you witness an awe-inspiring display of artistry.
What does that have to do with this week's theme of writing about dancing (a specific style or dancing in general)? OK, sure... it's ice skating, not dancing. But both are joy-filled examples of movement. And we could all do with a bit more joy, right? Just go with it.
I'm taking poetry and prose, fiction and non-fiction. Please be sure to limit yourself to one entry per person, and keep your pieces to 369 words or fewer.
Next week: We shall request that you (a) write for us your personal message to the rest of humanity, the thing you most need to communicate, on the assumption that all humanity will get to read it and take note, or (b) write about why you are not going to do that.
Friday, February 20, 2026
Friday Writings #215: The Flamethrower at the End of the Tunnel
I’ve been rereading my favorite passages/quotes from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. Life has been… extra interesting lately—and not always in the best of ways—so, spending time in stories that make me think and cackle is soothing.
I always enjoy what brews out of Terry Pratchett’s words/worlds. So, dear poets and storytellers, you won’t be too surprised that for today’s optional prompt, I’m very happy to invite you to write poetry or prose that explores one of Pratchett’s quotes: “There was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.”
As always, add the direct link to your response to Mister Linky. One post per participant, please. 369 words maximum. Let your entry be new or old. Write to the prompt or to a topic of your choosing. Visit other writers. Read what brews out of their words… and share your thoughts.
next week,
we’ll invite you to write about dancing, a specific style or dancing in
general.
Friday, February 13, 2026
Friday Writings #214: Love, love, glorious love!
Tomorrow is of course Valentine’s Day.
OK, so this is predictable and even corny – so what? Let’s do what poets are most renowned for, on this most appropriate of occasions, and write about love!
Even Shakespeare did it, and if it was good enough for him…
(Have a listen here to Paul Kelly singing Shakespeare):
Optional prompt: Write us a love poem, or a love story, or at least one about love. (I am subverting my own prompt today, for reasons which I trust will become clear as you read. That's another option for you, too.)
Guidelines: Poetry or prose, old or new, on prompt or not, 369 words maximum (excluding title and notes), one post per person and link to that post below. Please link to us here at your post, please read what the rest of us submit (not forgetting to check back for those who arrive at the end of the week) and leave us some encouraging comments, and you are of course welcome to make comments or ask questions here too.
Friday, February 6, 2026
Friday Writings #213: Pick a Pair
1. flesh/spirit,2. spring/winter3. love/indifference
Friday, January 30, 2026
Friday Writings #212: Luxurious Feels
Luxury (like any other complex term) is in the eye of the beholder. After weeks half-freezing in wintry swamps, a simple hot shower is the high of luxury. If you’ve ever scrambled (and eaten) a couple of eggs (okay, a cup of egg-like substance) in the middle of the desert, while the wind is feeling particularly frisky, then you know real luxury would involve scrambled eggs without a sandy crunch.
But could you (while sitting at home, comfy and warm) really think of a shower and eggs as real luxuries? Some of us would say, “Of course not!” While other of us understand that some days, having enough energy to get out of bed and shower AND then scramble some eggs is not just a luxury but a miracle. See? Luxury is totally subjective.
So, with that in mind, my dear poets and storytellers, for today’s optional prompt, I invite you to write poetry and prose about something that feels luxurious to you. I suspect the possibilities will be as vast as personalities…
Please
add the direct link to your response to Mister Linky. One post per participant.
369 words maximum (excluding title). Let your poetry or prose be old or
new, inspired by the prompt or by a topic of your choosing. Visit other contributors.
Read their writings… Let them know what their words do for your feels.
next week,
we invite you to write poetry or prose which includes one
(or more) of the following 3 sets
of words: 1. flesh/spirit, 2. spring/winter,
5. love/indifference.
Friday, January 23, 2026
Friday Writings #211: Night and Day
Good morning or evening, dear Word Weavers – depending on when you happen to see this. Or even, Good afternoon!
Night owl as I am, I am starting to write this at 10.31pm (my time, here on the eastern seaboard of Australia) – not rushing to get off to bed, but happily beginning the pleasures of my late evening writing and reading.
I’ve always enjoyed night-time. Perhaps it began with reading books under the blankets with a torch as a child, and never mind that my parents had ordered lights out hours before. Then, I habitually stayed up late during my student days, working on essays with deadlines. When the time came that I had young children of my own, it was only in the quiet night hours that I could work on my poems in peace and bring them to completion.
I know people who love the dawn. On the rare occasions I’ve seen it, yes I too find it beautiful. But I also love sunsets, starry skies, and the moon. For me there’s something very peaceful about the wakeful solitude of deep night.
Well, you know all this about me of course, as you’ve been reading my poems, which sometimes celebrate it.
How about you? Do you love the late nights or the early mornings, or perhaps the afternoons? And why do you?
Is it always the same? Or, on specific days, does it depend what's happening when? E.g. on your birthday, is it when you blow out the candles or when you start opening your presents? On the first day of your vacation, is it the moment when you first awaken and savour your leisure, or the one when you arrive at a place or begin an activity delightfully unconnected with your work? And so on.
Optional prompt: Please write about the time of day you like best, and why.
Guidelines: Verse or prose, old or new, on prompt or off, 369 words maximum (excluding title and notes), one post per person. Link to the post, below. At your post, please put a link to us here, to help other writers and readers find us; and please visit other participants and let them know when their writings move you.
Next week: We will ask you about something that feels luxurious.
Photos: Moon © Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2018; Sun © Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2019.























