Flickers of ectoplasmic glowry
haunting that darkened fen wreathed stinkbog
emitting itself exuding slime
amidst life-filled vibrant ponded swamp.

Throughout these haggard trees sticky ground
dwells alone one grey hag haired-green
collecting her fill of many herbs
grafted on trees and ferns all off-green.

Brewing long her forgot pharmacies
home prepared with second a hammock
waiting for any guest down on knees
in this bog needing food warmth and home.

By Steven Tucker

On the half-light border of those woods
forgot twilight beams of yesterlight
shone off hill-light of setting sun moods
crimson red dark passing of whole light.

Entered soon light-faded clutching trees
underboughs light-shields defending dusk
long lost thoughts lighted half drunk Styx lees
coming to darkness memories dusked.

Deeper plunged light-gone embracing leaves
swallowing light from eternal suns
giving naught light of their own grey leaves
offering dark comely shades lost ones.

Centre of dark banshees fear to tread
bosom of dark night solid blackness
forever darkly-held secrets dread
left until light carries recall ‘fessed.

Leaving lost dark glooms dreaming untied
memories dark loosing ancient binds
exiting dark growth behold untied
more ancient light freeing long grey finds.

By Steven Tucker

Solar ray one pure light
pierces clouds veiling heaven
streaming airy soup unseen
through glassy prism solid
divides then splits that whiteness
many-hued colours seven
divine light multi-humaned.

By Steven Tucker

Yesterday I went to the Homeless Memorial in St Kilda and I saw a ghost.
I was sitting next to Rachel as I guzzled Milo and chomped on chocolate cake.
That’s when I saw the ghost staring at me.
But I didn’t recognise the ghost, so I just turned away.
We sang songs, lit candles, and listened to the stories and words of others.
We observed a minute’s silence.
Then I went back to my stuffing my face with hot dogs and soup.
That’s when the ghost approached me in the marquee.
He remembered me from years gone by, though he did not say my name.
It took a few seconds for my mind to register who this ghost was.
He was gaunt compared to before.
Sunken cheeks, perhaps sunken morale.
Deep, dark circles under his eyes.
An incredibly lost look in his eyes.
What has caused him to look like this?
Financial worries? Drugs? Or just life?
We talked for a couple of minutes.
Then someone cut in to talk to the ghost and I took the chance to escape.
I went to get more Milo and chocolate cake, but the stand had packed up.
But I won’t hold it against the ghost for holding me up, for he is just a man, though only a ghost of the man he once was.
I can only pray that next time I see that ghost he is in better shape, for I do not want that memory of the ghost to haunt me.

By David B

Life sucks!
The painful truth.
That’s an error!
Why oh why,
does this recur?!
Just because a person
has no bucks.

To live a life
to the full,
is what we’re meant to do.
Oh my, oh my!
Although would love to do
live to be a wife,
for the rest of my life.

My love I gave to you,
so truly am I true.
But to do nothing hurts,
With boredom painful too.
I need to grow, not in spurts,
In wisdom, skill & interest,
But all done WITH YOU!

By “Sash” Emmanuelle Somerset-Beauverie

Choice. What is choice? Good bad ugly – am I making the right choice?
God. How much control does he have in my choice?
Freedom. Too little too late, as the saying goes. Freedom – that bird in that cages, wings stretch out wanting desperately to fly but can’t ‘cause of the limitations that the cage puts on her. God’s hand protecting her but will he protect her if she makes the wrong choice?
Choice. Good or bad?
Jesus’ saying: not my will but yours be done.
Choice. Love or hate?
60s 70s 80s. 60s live forever in my mind.
Love not hate.
War. People rule with their fists.
Choice. Love or hate this person. Accept or flick off like a fly. Walk down the other side of the street or smile and wave helo. Make a face or give a coat.
Choice. Not my will but yours be done.
Choice. She irritates me this new person in my life.
Prayer. Not my will but yours be done.
God the only answer the only way.
To believe or not to believe in him. Choice.
Choice. Sing his name from the roof tops or sing from your heart.
Choice. Let his name be known, pester people about him or respect their values of peace.
Choice. I am happy. Choice.
I will let my thoughts take over. Choice.
Please Lord help me to choose.
Choice not my will but yours be done. Choice.
What to write. What to wear today. How to do my hair. Choice.
How much control do we have? Choice.
Do I eat what’s not good for me? Choice.
Or do I eat with not a care in the world? Choice.
Do I sing Happy Birthday or do I not? Rejoice with this person who desperately wants to know that people care about their birthday. Choice.
Choice. Not my will but yours be done God.
Today is choice.

By Rachel

Dear Diary,

I have not spoken to you for a long time.
Welcome to my world.
My best mate, Adam, and I have been discussing why, at the age of 32, neither of us have any assets.
I reckon that it’s because we’ve both moved from town to town and job to job, low paying jobs.
But, because of that, we have a wider skills base than that of our other friends.
And we’ve faced a lot more than our other friends have.
Craig is pushing 40 and has been in a well-paid job for 13 years, yet he has no assets, either.
Lane recently won $50,000 on a scratchy card. He bought a secondhand car, which is an asset.
But, he still lives in the same place and has the same job and has no plans to move on.
And, worse still, he still has long hair.
I told him to cut his hair.
What a waste of $50,000!
I would have directed that money towards investments and my career plans.
Lane, however, sees no need in learning new skills or doing a training course with his $50,000.
Stuff it.
On Tuesday night, Adam and his housemate, Jeremy, had a small barney in the lounge.
At one point, Jeremy’s ranting became very comical, and Adam cracked up laughing.
I wanted to laugh, too, but out of respect for Jeremy, I held it in.
I was the mediator.
Some good points were made.
Adam attracts drama.
Adam does not understand why I’ve been in the same low paying job for 2 years.
So, last night, he got me to fill in an application form for a hotel job.
He does not think it’s a good idea to include on my CV the 4 months I worked at a strippers bar in Brizzy.
Stuff it.
I was the kitchen hand, not the stripper.
Even if I was a stripper, I would not be ashamed.
I learnt that the dancers’ job includes performance and people skills.
Adam looked on the website for the strippers bar, to get contact details for my reference.
But I told him it was under new management, which was why I left in the first place.
I asked him if he saw a stripper called Jordan on the website.
Jordan wore a police officer’s uniform, and she danced to ‘4 Minutes’ by Madonna.
Anyway I filled in the application form for the hotel job and Adam will hand it in today.
On Tuesday, I wanted to ask the lawyers at Credo about copyrighting my song lyrics.
Oh yeah, I just added another line onto ‘Dancer On The Stage’.
The line is: “You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Shucks, I hope I see that spunk by the end of the month.
Ain’t that the story of my life.
But Diary, you know it.

By David

Amazing grace – it still resounds
Though deaf my heart may be.
T’was grace that was my journey’s start
And grace still walks with me.

When I look at my life thus far
And see how you guide me through,
My heart is big and I want to sing
Amazing Grace to you!

When I am lost and faltering
Will you still come for me?
With all my fears and wanderings
Will love still welcome me?

Long lost friends in heaven’s embrace
Tell stories of pain and grace.
We’ll share and care and some time soon
We’ll see Him face to face.

And here, in time, we’ll learn to live
In peace and harmony.
We’ll learn to be the children of
The grace that set us free.

When we link arms and share our lives
It’s in God’s grace we live.
Like loaves and fish grace multiplies
With baskets left to give.

Through stained glass windows comes the light
To shine on everyone.
With faith in you on the darkest night
And thanks for all you’ve done.

Bless all the people of Credo
And help them to live well.
From humble ones to those with egos
We mingle and we gel.

Tree of rich fruits, full blossom
roots stretch for drinking rivers
sucking water for nectar
soft ambrosial twigs
Blazing at full strength its flames
solar flare its inferno
brightness of royal glory
dangerous to approach, holy
Voice of wind in its branches
voice of strength in flaming boughs
breath of heat and life and light
breath of angelic singing
Tree of life, eternal fruits
voice beckoning flames threaten
wind sends forth draws close to flame
Moshe to challenge Pharaoh.

By Steven Tucker

DHS took my daughter away but I did nothing wrong. And this woman got her 5 year old son drunk and has had two suspended sentences against her name and then gets a third suspended sentence – and yet DHS has not removed her children out of her care. This is how DHS works and something needs to be done about it. DHS needs to get their cases right, give me my daughter and take this woman’s children off her – and then send her to jail.

DHS thinks they’re above people like me, but they don’t understand that I will fight them to get my daughter back.

By Boony