Winning entry Society of Women Writers Qld 2012 Poetry Prize


Night Blindness

They said it would be like this--
a super moon rising over water,
gleaming the horizon
as far as the eye could see.

But they didn't say
it could blind with its brilliance:
a hard light, laser sharp,
paling the Cross to insignificance.

Omnipotent, it draws us--
fence posts, gnomes and tall dark strangers--
to the cutting edge.

Here at the precipice
we falter—stature lessened.
Fears illuminate
as monsters lurch from dappled pools
and sit like fat toads,
waiting.

© Judith Bandidt    May, 2012

Embracing Failure

Lying in bed at 2 am, there's a throb
on my pillow of a slow pulse.
I turn to the right and it goes away.
Ear wax had captured my heart

and, as my wife rolls right, too,
at my turning, I remember
that sleep's better than failure,
as I hear her begin to snore.

Having thus failed, the zoo panda
did too, I'd read earlier in the night--
I began this poem but now am
struggling by muted flashlight,

to be finished with it and its
excoriating intimacy, its
refusal to go away, I'm
not liking the taste of, um,

well failure once again and,
because I shifted my feet,
they are colder than my
wife's feet and that's

disconcerting!

I lie back and hear a drum
of light rain upon our roof.
There's no rainbow of hope,
not at 2:30 am, unless, unless...

and I do, I really do, get out
with the flashlight and open
the door to the porch to spray
beams all around me
but no rainbow appears,
no cuddle from my wife
and there's this poem that
you have stopped reading

by now, haven't you?
Failure is not fatal
but it sure spoils
a good sleep
and better poem!

Ron Wiseman   © 22/09/12