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Hello and welcome to Emilie Collyer's writing blog. I post a new piece of writing every week - usually a poem or an observation.

You can also see gigs, events and publications I have coming up, where to buy play scripts of mine, where to buy journals that include my stories and poetry, and links to my favourite other blogs and websites.

Thanks for visiting. Please get in touch if you would like any more information about my writing or just to say hello.

Words from between the cracks.

Where sometimes it is cramped and dusty, sometimes it smells funny and sometimes you unexpectedly find fifty cents .

 

Monday
Sep062010

this is how it is today

DateMonday, September 6, 2010 at 6:21AM

today it is okay

hot feet on the treadmill a soundtrack of piano accordian played in the subway

I moved along the moving walkway feeling life in slow motion like I was starring in the final montage of my life: the bit where lessons have been learned and it all comes together and I accept myself with all of the errors and rejections and mistakes and feel a sense of peace

In the garden white dust came to rest on shoes and daub sitting marks on the bums of jeans

there were hundreds of people maybe thousands but it did not make me anxious. Today was a day when that many people in one place made me glad.

This is how it is today.

AuthorEmilie Collyer | CommentPost a Comment |
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Thursday
Sep022010

these shoes

DateThursday, September 2, 2010 at 5:11PM

walking in foreign cities

I am obsessed with people's shoes

what do they choose?

comfort over style or both?

we seem to be living in times of unparalleled cool

skinny jeans and runners abound

tan ankle boots and slouchy soft things that only skinny Italian women can make look elegant

what do people think when they look at my shoes?

or am I the only one looking down?

this is a dangerous and defeating way to travel

luckily I bump into things quite often 

which reminds me to

LOOK UP!

AuthorEmilie Collyer | CommentPost a Comment |
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Friday
Aug272010

Flight

DateFriday, August 27, 2010 at 4:52PM

We fly into endless night

time stretches like a slinky

that has lost its spring

 

Are we beating time 

or chasing it?

 

My body stores

ruminations

in the bags under my eyes

AuthorEmilie Collyer | CommentPost a Comment |
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Tuesday
Aug172010

lost and found

DateTuesday, August 17, 2010 at 8:37AM

 

I am missing

my striped socks

and spotted umbrella

 

a week away from

an overseas holiday

these minor losses

 

take up a lot of space

 

Last night

in a pub

I wondered if I saw

two people

falling in love

 

either that or they were

looking for the same thing

tucked into

the gap between their seats

 

I left before they did

so will never know

what they found

if anything

 

heads pressed together

eyes down

seeking those things

we lose in the cracks

 

umbrellas and socks

and love

and other things

like that



AuthorEmilie Collyer | Comment1 Comment |
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Tuesday
Aug102010

picture perfect day

DateTuesday, August 10, 2010 at 12:24PM

I run in side streets

five minute increments to increase my fitness

 

brown chickens battle cats for scraps

the sun hangs low and fat at the end of this lane

 

overturned shopping trolley

lolls   its belly empty

one wheel turns a slow rotation

 

in this backyard lives a yellow crane

suppose they have to go somewhere

at the end of each day

 

boy with black hair texture of ink

carries his skateboard

along the dry creek bed

 

a small neat woman sweeps

the patch of dirt outside her house

into a dustpan   and takes it inside

 

grunting man digs up his front yard

rolls of fake grass stacked along the driveway

ready to be laid

 

my heart hurts but my feet are steady

on Sunshine Road I am startled

by a barking sound hurled from a passing ute

 

it is not a dog

it is a man making a noise like a dog

maybe he thinks he is being funny

 

the shout stabs a hole through my fitness goal

 

reduced to a walk I seek out alleyways  

running seems too loud now

for this picture perfect day

 

instead I kick cans pick up a stick and tap my way

along wooden fence palings

looking for a different way home



AuthorEmilie Collyer | CommentPost a Comment |
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