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Andrew James Whalan

Poet. Storyteller.


  • September 4, 2022

    Almost Fifty

    Almost Fifty

    He wanted his fifty. I knew it. They knew it too.

  • September 2, 2022

    How I was touched by Everybody’s Oma (Movie Review)

    How I was touched by Everybody’s Oma (Movie Review)

    You may have seen the viral videos. Turning a kitchen into a supermarket. Or a front yard into Sydney’s aquarium. All for Oma… If you’d followed Everybody’s Oma on social media, you’d probably know Henderik van Genderen’s (“Puck” ) story in greater detail. You’d expect the movie to be a continuation. And you’d be right. […]

  • August 15, 2022

    a past indifference

    a past indifference

    You say to yourself I will let this pass through Me. Or else I’ll so steel myself That I am all impenetrability. Meanwhile your life’s words and phrases Dissolve in typeset vowels and letters Meaningless in their unemotionality Cosseted but smothered in dark safety. Until poetry overcomes these fetters Reaching through and touching backwards Overcoming past insensibility Until you are left wondering How could you have ever lived So silently so indifferently.

  • August 11, 2022

    cold

    cold

    We close watch the young and the old Focus on each fluttering eyelid Suspending our fingers over their lips Calling to their warmth against our cold. Hugging our solitary arms enfolded Ignoring the ever encroaching deep While they embrace approaching sleep Knowing warmth shines beyond the ageing cold.

  • August 11, 2022

    OverWoke

    OverWoke

    “Apostate,” she hissed in my face.

  • August 10, 2022

    as will you

    as will you

    You will weigh me and find me wanting As I did them. You will see say and try more than loving As I did them. Until the generation leapt calls you to see Your children’s children now set free Until you become the parent seeking Out the hidden children’s suffering. You will weigh them and find them wanting As I did me. You will see say and succeed in loving As I did me. Even if you remain the grown-up child refusing To bequeath grief without received healing.

  • August 9, 2022

    love left alone

    love left alone

    If I caught and kept love It would be no love at all Love left dying at last grasp Dust and leaves floating in its wake. If I fought for and left love I would be the one to fall Love lying faithless hope left to clasp At emptiness cleft to my selfish ache. If I nought but let love flow As if it were second breath Let alone no thought to know But love’s depth and width and breadth.

  • August 8, 2022

    Opposites Detract

    Opposites Detract

    Of course you truly love that other. And expect them to live for you completely Until they morph into that new another The one that doesn’t care even proportionately. Yet think upon this! That bloody minded other Knows full well that living for another Is their one and only true saviour Why? It’s in their oblivious behaviour. So when you find out, as you will, their actions clash with their belief It will be poor comfort now, take the pill, it’s the best long term relief You will finally find that two people living for each other are in fact Proof absolute positive that opposites in time can only detract.

  • August 4, 2022

    WaterLove

    WaterLove

    Dripped as if from a tap, Freed through a broken dam, swam through a flowing river, First escaped from a cloud. Risen hidden to the sky, Cast invisible into steam Frozen like caught sparks Fell eventually to a stream. Poured out into the ocean, Love vanished now so free.

  • August 3, 2022

    The other side of the counter…

    The other side of the counter…

    With the incessant flight delays, one should also step a little beyond one’s own upset and realise the following. Anyone in customer service can’t be in it for the money. There isn’t enough money in this world or the next…

  • August 1, 2022

    Turn me into poetry

    Turn me into poetry

    I could turn everyone I meet into poetry But that would assume everyone I meet touches me. Meanwhile I stay hidden quiet in my non-controversy And even those few that do rarely evoke me Into any semblance of phraseology. Meanwhile I stay hidden silent in my inexpressibility! Perhaps you can discern yourself afterwards Recognise the change you finally woke in me And realise it was you that turned me into poetry.

  • July 28, 2022

    The Conversation Problem

    The Conversation Problem

    The first hint occurred after a meetup. As we trooped off to the pub, everyone split up. Into their pre-existing groups.

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