He’s moved to Varsity Lakes; loose as an untied shoe or a
shameless escape. Raised down south where bands play and
friends came to stay. Now it’s just him and his beat-up wreck
heading north with a blanket in the back and that wicker lamp
he snagged from the side of a road. I hope he leaves here on good
terms but it rarely comes to that. Too busy chasing the what
comes next to bother with the mess. I am used to the leaving, to
the not staying in touch. To the fines he cannot pay, to the
sleeping all day and Christ knows what at night. Varsity sounds
like scarcity. It matches the barrenness of an un-founded life
where fear keeps you right where you are and not much of
anything else. As if cold needed shelter, it chose him, all out of
luck in a single bed with the bare necessities, bar that guitar I
gave, perched on a stand with its worn tartan strap, and that
lamp twinkling through its woven cage, holding belonging in place.
Ellen Shelley’s poetry investigates the struggles of the everyday. Her poetic journey began at an early age when she discovered the power of words to heal and transform. Raised in a blended family, she soon learnt the art of resilience and the importance of finding her own voice in the world.
Ellen’s work has been published in Not Very Quiet, Woman of Words, Eucalypt Tanka Journal, The Ross Spencer, Cordite, Dámour, Australian Poetry Anthology, Rabbit Journal, Westerly, The Canberra Times, Verity La Journal, Mascara Lit, Australian Poetry Collaboration and various other anthologies.
She was highly commended for the Philip Bacon ekphrastic, Queensland Flying Arts, Manly Spirit of Renewal, commended for the Woorilla prize, winner of The Grieve Project 2025, Poetica Christi Press, and placed 2nd in the Tom Collins FAWWA awards.
Ellen recently published her debut book of poetry Out of the Blocks with Puncher and Wattman. She lives in Newcastle with her husband and two young boys.