How have words written you? — I’m a woman of words — is that a contradiction in terms? If I prefer the company of books to the company of men, does that make me a modern-day witch? Does the time I spend alone with books threaten the machinations of misogyny? …

A gallery of virtual inspiration from Scrittura writers — Is August here already? While that means Melbourne is in the deep heart of winter, I know it’s officially summer in the Northern hemisphere. Medium has felt particularly quiet these past few weeks, so while I’m rugged up and stealing rare sunny moments on my balcony, I’m gathering many are…

Into the image: August Poetry Prompt — Those charred silhouettes on the horizon’s edge; emerging from that incandescent shimmer of incessant sun upon the dunes, from dawn to dusk; no respite Are they desert hunters, or vengeful gods, descending out of the orange sky; an inferno, consuming sand and my sanity When hope welled still inside, like…

An Erotic Hybrid Poem: Prompt response — She likes to scent herself before he arrives — rose oil on the inside of her wrists, jasmine at the base of her throat, sandalwood on the curve of inner thigh — the places she wants him to find. He…

July’s picks by Scrittura writers — Welcome to July’s collection of archival picks by our writers. This month’s theme to guide our archival reading in Scrittura is seeking the moon. The moon orbits the earth once every 28 days. As though she’s looking for something she lost. A long time ago. ― Jeanette Winterson, The Gap…

Writers — nominate your Scrittura stories now! — Welcome to the first “On Theme” challenge — where Scrittura’s writers embark on a theme-based treasure hunt into our archival gems — and nominate stories to feature. (And Scrittura certainly has a plethora of amazing prose poetry, poetry, hybrids and prose to choose from). I’ve had a lot of fun…

A double nonet — One molten summer, when days dripped honey, the air, infused with a wild fecundity, brimming humidity, birthed a memory of glimmering wings, not seen, for many seasons past Inexplicable as thunderstorms in drought — electrifying the blue with their buzz and dazzle, the dragonflies returned; luminous wings, hung, like bright tears in the humming summer sky…

Making the familiar unfamiliar: Prompt response — Too late now — your acrid accusations hang in the air, like nicotined exhalations, like fumes from landfill on fire; the bitter taint of sour intentions stained, across the tongue aftertaste of thoughtless slings and arrows, not of fortune, but of fears unfaced Words, birthed from fight-flight impulses; the flaring amygdala…

Scrittura’s Poetry Prompt for July — You see things in the image that are recognizable, but juxtaposed with elements that startle, disturb or disorient you. Notice how you’re drawn in to trying to resolve the contradictions, identify what’s got you so unsettled. Whether you resolve that contradiction or not, you’ve had an experience — an experience…