Short stories, poetry, novels and children's books, with random musings about writing, life with lupus and lifestyles of the poor but creative. For more information, or to find something specific, go to the Site Information page.
Pride poem by Iris Carden
Pride is meeting and marching in Sydney
and, as every year,
my mind goes back through the pages of memory
to a man I think of as Pride marches.
When I met him, he was just thin skin spread tightly over bones.
His speech was punctuated by coughing up globs of black revolting blood.
The only people he saw were hospital staff and the chaplains.
He wouldn’t let us notify his family.
That room was his closet, in which he died.
We moved on.
A busy hospital has too many demands to allow time
to grieve the loss of just one precious human life.
Then the family who loved him called.
Why were they denied the chance to spend those
last precious weeks with him?
Why weren’t they able to say good-bye?
Pride is meeting and marching.
And while I am not a part of it, I am glad.
Love the amazing, beautiful, incredible, unique human
that only you can be.
No-one else can ever replace you or substitute for you.
No-one can fill the gap when you are gone.
And in that pride and love,
please try to leave some space
to allow others to love you too.
Iris Carden is an Australian indie author, mother, grandmother, and chronic illness patient. On good days, she writes. Because of the unpredictability of her health, she writes on an indie basis, not trying to meet deadlines. She lives on a disability support pension now, but her ultimate dream is to earn her own living from her writing.