September 2024 Winners
First Place Winner
300 Longwood Ave, Boston by Denise O’Hagan, Sydney Australia
Must check my laminated photo ID badge’s clipped on properly.
This isn’t the moment to say I’m never called by my first name,
or ask what if. The plastic is real and that’s what I’m holding on to.
Hash browns, maple syrup pancakes, scrambled eggs, milkshakes!
Almost, it—but for the hush and the pastel walls yelling hope.
I can’t believe I’m even responding to breakfast right now.
He could be under for two days. There’s something in my eye.
It’s going to start in ten minutes and they’re talking about cricket,
a tickle down leg. Even now he can find something to joke about.
Vermeer’s women are so calm and still. Maybe staying with them
at the museum will make me the same. He had fifteen children,
how did he do those eyes, those ribboned ringlets? I have two sons.
I’m getting used to the Green Line now, how it runs into sunlight.
Everyone thinks we’re tourists & that’s okay. His toes like pebbles
in blue moon boots. When will he wake up? Is her fur coat real?
The ice rink a white pool in the night, figures leaning and dipping.
All of a life piled up in one supermarket trolley. The night clinks
and scrapes along. It’s not possible for nothing to keep happening.
There’s the woman with the yellow scarf and child called Charity.
I want to go back to that kiosk, buy a T-shirt with Boston on it.
He’s being transferred to a room by himself. I hope that’s.
I still don’t know if this is the beginning of things, or the end.
Note: Written after my son’s open-heart surgery for Ebstein’s Anomaly, a rare congenital heart disease affecting one in every 20,000 live births.
Second Place Winner
Gary from next door by Shoshanna Rockman, Melbourne, Australia
Just an old rusted Rheem. And an unwilling pilot
in that narrow lacey slot. Cantankerous and cold,
she refuses my pleas to don her flashy blue suit.
I kneel in the dirt amid the slap and itch of mozzies,
eyes level with the turret, I press ignite–ignite–ignite
until my pointer-finger buckles and the pink lacquered
nail breaks. But Gary from next door (invisible before)
emerges from the sanctum of his garage. Each gadget.
Each tool. Each cannister shining. Each. Bracketed.
Gary tugs at the brim of his brown plaid cap. Winds on
his faded brown scarf. Follows me out back. Reverent
before the Rheem. He stoops. Tinkers. Twists the spanner.
Ripples his brow. I flutter. Hover like some apron-less fifties
housewife. He swats. I proffer Rid roll-on and sweet tea.
He’s patient. When she catches and dances. He rocks back,
straightens. Folds wiry arms, surveys his handiwork before
shuffling home. And I detect a lilt in his gait. A modest rise
in his bearing. An infinitesimal easing of the shoulders.
I make a solemn secret vow to drop Cadbury Roses
on his doorstep like in some cheesy sitcom and turns out
he’s a sweet tooth and my kids are overjoyed by gifting
which morphs into Tim Tams, homemade cupcakes …
One morning I step out in sunshine to discover my car’s
shattered left indicator expertly duct taped in glistening
silver, as though the shoemaker’s elves conspired with Gary
under moonlight —to keep the earth spinning while we sleep.
Third Place Winner
The Arrival by Maria Patterson, Adelaide, South Australia
My mother sailed to her fate with trepidation in her heart,
and hope packed carefully in an old, battered chest,
wrapped tight with the heavy woven blankets, next to the dried octopus,
the coils of dried figs and the bottle of olive oil.
A long month later, a customs man removed them in disbelief,
Laughing with his friends at these strange dagoes, spicks and wogs,
Foreigners with strange foreign habits, greasy oil loving consumers of garlic
and other disturbing items.
Although the figs with their leathery skin dried under another sun
he thought possibly edible before he threw them away.
My mother did not understand his derision and his disgust,
his strange foreign language or his careless disregard.
She was sad for the loss of the scents of her home;
the memories of dusty summer orchards, the ancient gnarled olives,
The gentle sighing of the seas.
But she was strong my mother and resigned, if not resolute.
She repacked her old life carefully and waited for her brother to come.
And with her heavy heart and her thick winter coat,
She followed him as he dragged her chest into the hot Australian sun.
Judges
Cherry Manfield has an Arts Degree majoring in Literature, Film and Drama and post graduate teacher qualifications in English and Visual Arts. Cherry previously worked as a publishing manager for the Department of Health in South Australia. She has also worked as a script writer and editor for documentary and feature films and co-authored distance learning modules. In her spare time Cherry loves salsa dancing and is currently teaching Ethics to primary school children. With her experience and passion for creativity, Cherry has been instrumental in scrutinising entries for use of AI!
Dr Rod O’Connor is a devoted student and practitioner of psychology, and is fascinated by the way people make sense of their life experience. Rod grew up on the family ‘wheat and sheep’ farm in Victoria, Australia. At age 17 he left his studies and hitch-hiked around Australia, working as a builders laborer, deckhand, fencer, truck driver, and yard-man. In his 20s Rod studied Zoology and Psychology at the Australian National University and completed a doctorate in cognitive psychology at Monash University. His published books include Measuring Quality of Life in Health (2004), and Einstein’s Last Message: Saving our world by changing how we think (2020).
Louise Steer is an active cabaret poetry diva and takes her poetry to the people. In 2017, she was the first poet to be elected as a local government councillor on Inner West Council in Sydney and served until 2021. With her poetry performance group Fierce Violets, she has performed to acclaim at Sydney Fringe Festival (2022, nominated in spoken word, and 2023), Maitland IF Writers Festival (2022) EDGE Sydenham (2023) and Oxford Cabaret Festival (2023). In 2023, she received a grant from Inner West Council to develop an hour length performance, A Pocketful of Fierce Violets. She produces and presents Close to Home on Radio Skid Row 88.9FM, which streams internationally. She is a representative of World Poetry Movement Oceania. Between 2015 – 2018, she convened the largest Inner West slam poetry event, Caravan Slam. Lou’s poems are widely published and anthologised and her performances are broadcast on YouTube and SoundCloud. Her first book, Raw Like Sandpaper, will be published in late 2024. Lou has also recently wrapped up a busy season of guest judging at this year’s Sydney Fringe Festival.
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