Joe Massingham was born in the UK but has lived the second half of his life in Australia.. Major employment has been as a Navy officer, university student from first degree to PhD, tutor, lecturer and Master of Wright College, University of New England, NSW. Has run his own writing and editing business but retired early because of cancer and heart problems and now spends time waiting to see medical practitioners, writing poetry and prose and smelling the roses. He has had work published in Australia, UK, Eire, USA ,NZ and India.
Belmore Park
They sit under the trees
staring, unblinking, at the flagon
in its brown paper skin
as a cat watches a mouse,
daring it to move, ready to pounce
at the first stirring
The shadows broaden,
their minds cannot.
The shadows lengthen,
Their lives do not.
One, tiring of the game,
moves out beyond the shadow
and stretches in the sun,
the warmth outside
bringing his skin
nearer
the burning need within.
Boat People
No care, no love, no smile
nor frown, no soap, no water,
hot or cold, no warmth, no
goal except surviving ‘now’,
no ‘then’ to comfort one, no
other, significant or not, no
future presupposed and only
the faint hope of hope itself
to nudge life on.
