Sean Bidd

Nomadic & transient tales, with the occasional short piece of chaos.

Not Frying Eggs

Events of the week took a turn earlier, but all sorted now. Find out what they were below.   Not Frying Eggs Why the rush to come home? 6.30, 7pm, … Continue reading

October 18, 2014 · 4 Comments

A cold front’s door

Last weeks Kellie Elmore, Free Write Friday – #FWF prompt: It’s winter. Night. In a forest. You come across an abandoned house.   A short story without a second thought… … Continue reading

October 11, 2014 · 4 Comments

In those places

In those places Never a time could follow, as a story wraps around her voice. Out there on the floor, where tales they spin, then climb, embrace. Where different worlds … Continue reading

October 8, 2014 · 8 Comments

Last day, last songs as the sun goes down

Last day, last songs as the sun goes down As the music here just fills the room The roof above it’s long since gone Standing up here from a bed … Continue reading

October 6, 2014 · 12 Comments

Days Spent

Days Spent High on a rooftop out in cold soft rain, Where the day’s morning to silence falls. Two companions converse and wait Shaded behind a dry stone chimney tall … Continue reading

October 5, 2014 · 8 Comments

Scary strange

Scary strange on that day A time after night fell away Between mountain ranges Lost in a ring barked forest In a world of grey trunks, Their branches, each shade … Continue reading

July 11, 2014 · 15 Comments

Beyond the Knowndoms

Story tellers, journalist, photo journalists going beyond their own knowndoms. Telling, writing, sharing the stories not just the news, not just in and out in a few days, but learning … Continue reading

June 28, 2014 · 9 Comments

Riverbed highways

Riverbed highways Almost there now, left many months ago Following dry winter highways Meandering riverbeds Between longhand waterholes In dustless wind channels Climbing to lofted mountains. Not lost where, highlands … Continue reading

June 28, 2014 · 4 Comments

Sated within an arrested moment

Sated within an arrested moment High on a hill is where these words find today, and it’s wondrous to hear words drawn from different wells, filling, spilling over in lines … Continue reading

June 17, 2014 · 5 Comments

when the dust it settles down

Where are all the children playing now Tell me, what happens when the dust it settles down Where are all the children, now the town is gone Every field left … Continue reading

June 17, 2014 · 2 Comments

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Wayfaring Days

Above the old quarry 1

Above the old quarry 2

Above the old quarry 3

Frenchman's Creek03

Fitzroy River and Steel Tower

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