Mike Roe
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mikeroefiction.bsky.social
Mike Roe
@mikeroefiction.bsky.social
33 followers 25 following 26 posts
All posts are my own
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mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #flowers
A photograph of the orange and grey centre of a green palm plant
January 2, 2025 at 11:59 AM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #flowers
A photograph of a pink flower with yellow pollen at its centre. The focus is shallow and on the centre of the flower.
December 21, 2024 at 5:19 AM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #flowers #banksia
A photograph of a green banksia. The photo has extremely shallow focus on the tips of the banksia.
December 15, 2024 at 11:00 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #busselton
A photo of a beach at sunrise. A gold coloured shoreline curves from the bottom left of the photo to the centre and then back to the middle left where the sun sits just above it, reflected in the water. In the distance, a man and his dog are walking away from the camera at the high point of the shoreline's curve.
December 10, 2024 at 10:38 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#poetry
Come in, shed your coat, Sit and fill yourself With spices, sweets, Lavender and love Step down to the ocean Salt stripping pretence Lean August light Bringing warmth and gulls There is hope in this place In need of nurturing It lives within the fruit trees A moment of beauty Rent flesh, raw humanity Day's end Doors locked Keys swapped Onward
December 5, 2024 at 11:17 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #flowers #banksia
A photo of a deep pink banksia surrounded by an orange nest of buds. The nest is largely out of focus, creating a sense of movement around the banksia.
December 4, 2024 at 10:59 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#poetry
This good man of mine In dresses, suits And ties In soft handshake contracts Around their wrists With blood and love In equal measure This good man Filled with integrity Every room cluttered, closed, squeezed, spread, made, measured, bound Blood, sweat, and love This good man In candy-coloured tones Of rose-gold bells And leg-wrapped drunkenness Neatly bow-tied, bespoke A private-piercing cry Blood and love This good man Out on nights they'll half remember Hugging friends who might've been In lieu of family who can't Watching the sun's low light rising Blood and love This good man With shoulders squared and high heels on Sand and cordite in their nostrils People behind and before Steel and stone in flesh Blood and love This good man A (manifold) community A (faithful) garden A (fierce) wall A (guiding) context Blood and love This good man of mine My neighbour My father My mother My friend A welcome mat Stained from use With blood and love In equal measure
December 3, 2024 at 10:29 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #flowers
A bundle of pink flower buds surrounded by green leaves. A second bundle, out of focus, sits beneath the central one.
December 2, 2024 at 10:12 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#microfiction
I left you in a room in Brooklyn; an angry, ugly loop. I was out of ideas so I set out to find more. I grew my hair long and moved to Manhattan and then to Maine. Onto autumn and forests and thin people with little fruit left to pluck. I took what I could from everyone I saw. I leant out of car windows and received soup with kindness. I followed and learned and was loved, as a mirror is by those who cannot see themselves. If you had met me then you would have been disappointed. I went searching for soil but found only claimed land. Awash in broad stories to fill out my own, I lacked context. Happiness and pain belonged to someone else. I know you'd judge me for my indulgences. But you're still in Brooklyn and I don't care what you think. I am done with grief and guilt. I have seen so many more nodes of existence, why would I choose your black, obsequious morass? I found your tendrils in the hallway once, attempting to slither into the neighbouring apartments. I killed them but they kept coming back, kept whispering evil things. And you kept feeding them. They devoured crumbs and friends alike and you never noticed. How could you when you never got out of bed? I know that if I returned, you would still be there; a child dying in its own cage. But your story is not mine. I am my own fertile ground. Thorns emerge every once in a while and I dutifully pull them, one by one, until my hands give out. Some days they get the better of me and wind their way around my chest. One day they will end me. But for now, with my careful work, I am free.
December 1, 2024 at 10:50 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #flowers
A tangle pink flowers and green leaves
December 1, 2024 at 12:15 AM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#poetry
Sweet bush air Bringing spring and mottled magpies All that calm, slow breeze Bringing gum and wattle Croaks and chirps, communities Terracotta roofs for safety, keeping in the warmth and smell of bread Outside the chill grass rests with our past selves I can see the salty olives and sweet mandarins and I wonder why I will leave this place, as I know I must do
November 29, 2024 at 11:40 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #Rottnest #lighthouse
A photograph of a relatively dark park curving to the right of the frame. There is one tree on either side of it. In the centre of the frame there is a lighthouse in the far distance. The photo was taken in the late afternoon at Rottnest Island, Western Australia.
November 28, 2024 at 10:43 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#microfiction
A very short story about a person struggling with the masks that they wear and wanting to start fresh from the void. The text does not fit on alt text.
November 27, 2024 at 10:44 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#photography #penfolds #wine
A mostly black and white photograph of several bottles of Penfolds Grange, an Australian wine. The wines are on top of a barrel with three corks at their feet. The lettering on the labels is red, highlighting the Penfolds and Grange names.
November 27, 2024 at 12:14 AM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#poetry
Where do we go from here? At the shore: Skirts waving blue, Foaming clouds in the sky; Crossing stars alight like pinpricks In a shroud of mothering comfort Around table legs, Coarse from smoke And yelling. A shower to wash; The rain pick pocking Earthy foundation, Kicking up dust Into a perfume Of eucalyptus and sandalwood. Onto shoes and suits; Eye liner bleeding Into the face beneath; Ash in the river, Coiling upwards Around cassocks, Dispersing from thuribles, Swung by gasping embers.
November 26, 2024 at 11:10 AM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#sandycape #photography #Australia #landscape
A desert landscape photo taken in Sandy Cape, Western Australia. A light cloud divides the left and right sides of the sky. Dead trees stretch over the horizon line with one particularly tall one on the left side.
November 25, 2024 at 1:11 AM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#poetry
a choir at dawn a chorus to sing the warmth to celebrate it to bring it into being the water whistling as the breeze sends it bubbling carving out the rock, carrying it elsewhere beeks and bachs and brooks filled with life, the ground soaked with it this is the song we sang before we knew what a scale was before our ears had heard a melody this is what we listened to to this we will return, the day long hudba'loo stretching into the night and then returning again at dawn
November 23, 2024 at 10:40 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
A photo of a bright red grevillea with two pale blue sticks surrounding it. The background is green.
November 22, 2024 at 11:25 PM
mikeroefiction.bsky.social
#microfiction
A short story about someone grieving a partner by hiking the Michigan Peninsula. The story is too long to fit directly into alt text.
November 22, 2024 at 11:12 AM