And the Winners are….

August 8, 2016  |  Uncategorized

Our event at the 2016 Byron Writers Festival was well-attended despite the weather and we were treated to music by Kim FullSizeRenderBanffy and a twenty minute reading by Anthony Lawrence, author of 16 poetry collections.  Anthony generously agreed to be the judge of the Dangerously Poetic Byron Writers Festival Poetry Prize which attracted 111 entries from every state and territory.FullSizeRender


Anthony presented the second prize to Gail Willems of Perth who was unable to attend. About the poem, he said,  ‘Map Reading’ is a curious reading of topography and emotion. A clever poem whose lines and line-breaks define its rhythm without formal punctuation, it suggests the hidden spaces and places in our lives where imagination is the only true compass.

photos of Anthony Lawrence and Mark Roberts by Vivien Royston

The first prize of $500 and a 3 day pass to the festival went to Mark Roberts of Sydney.

Anthony’s comments were as follows: ‘Perfume’ moves like frames in a sepia-tone, grainy film. Its story suggests intrigue, death, rural myth or local history, in a time of war.

First and third person points of view combine in clipped, lyrical stanzas to create a miniature novel in which mystery and allusiveness are palpable.

Read these poems here!

First Prize- Mark Roberts



                                                she heard him

                                                an instant before

                                               the scarf pulled tight

                                                against her throat


the train to lithgow

settles into a metal song

reassurance of steel on steel


                                                her arm  swung around smashing

                                                the perfume bottle to the floor

last night I smelt a ghost

sweet & alluring

flowers, orange

a suggestion of earthiness


                                                he will be shipped out


                                               they find the body

a ripple of iciness

flowing up the bed

my eyes closed

but awake

colder now

than a bathurst winter


left behind in the pub

next to the station



2nd  Prize  in Byron Bay Writers Festival- Gail Willems



he tore up the map

I watched it slide behind lost eyes

full stopping roads in his head

he hums in my hands

defies all of my abilities to orchestrate a wholeness

we sit in a dead end

the edges of names wait for him to navigate his own map

take us home

Someone’s going to look    see the crawling space

bleeding at the edges of memory

x-ray spaces where we can erect a picture board

a bulletin board    I’ll post faces and places

where you wandered off the track

directions    signposted at the edges

crawl closer create a nothing

expand  exponentially


look for the hum in the spaces    it will be me


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