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May Writing Contest

Cash Prizes Awarded: $100, $50, $50

In response to the pictures or the written quotes below, send in your poem, story or opinion piece and we will publish your submissions. Note: HWC Members only

Guidelines:

  • Email your entries to contact@hunterwriterscentre.org
  • The contest is for members only. Become a member
  • all entries, max 500 words (poems max 20 lines)
  • Max 2 submissions
  • Email subject header: May Writing Contest
  • Closes 31st May. Awards announced mid-June
  • Read the wonderful submissions to February 2021 contest and 2020: May, June, September and November contests
 
Abduction of a Sabine Woman by Giambologna, Loggia dei Lanzi, Florence
Abduction of a Sabine Woman - Giambologna, Loggia dei Lanzi, Florence
Her Own Path by Clarice Beckett
Her Own Path - Clarice Beckett
the enigma of Isidore ducasse by Man Ray
The Enigma of Isidore Ducasse - Man Ray
self portrait Max Beckmann
self portrait - Max Beckmann
crypt-at-freising-cathedral
Crypt at Freising Cathedral
Starfish on a stick by Kirsha Kaechele and Vince Trim from Eat the Problem
Starfish on a stick - Kirsha Kaechele and Vince Trim from Eat the Problem
Skeleton Leaf 1964 Olive Cotton
Skeleton Leaf 1964 - Olive Cotton
Outback Australia - Kath Williams
Outback Australia - Kath Williams

Kath is a local photographer  – view page

leaving Reykjavik day 1 in the rain Chris Byrnes artist (Newcastle based)
leaving Reykjavik in the rain - Chris Byrnes

Chris is a local photographer  – visit website

Venice is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs in one go.

I had forgotten that time wasn't fixed like concrete but in fact was fluid as sand, or water. I had forgotten that even misery can end.

I don't need you to remind me of my age. I have a bladder to do that for me.

It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.

But maybe every life looked wonderful if all you saw was the photo albums.

You shall love your crooked neighbour, with your crooked heart

This morning, that morning, was honeycombed with personal restlessness

Italians are never punctual; the café, the convenient place to wait, absolves them from that. There is no question of hanging about, no looking lost and unwanted or even disreputable, as there is in hotel lobbies or the foyers of restaurants. One just sits and enjoys the scene, and waits.

Everything was normal and right. There were dishes in the sink and the sound of kids playing in the street and the trains passing smutty wind. Something had settled over the kitchen. Rose kept the colours inside the lines and all the patterns were proper, sensible and neat. Happiness. That's what it was.

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Hunter Writers Centre
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​PO Box 494
The Junction NSW 2291 Australia

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