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A Piece of my Mind (Verse and Worse)

a piece of my mind cover 

This book is about you and how you can have fun. A seagull story enabled me to become unpredictable and record how I see the world, because nobody sees it as I do, or how you see your part of the world.

I simply do not believe hurling bullets and bombs at one another is the road to peace. We can all play our part for peace and have fun doing so. A Piece of My Mind may just ring the peace bell in yours. 

Most folk enjoy a laugh… I can promise you that.

Many folk want the truth... I promise that as well.

Some are not afraid to drop a tear... those moments are there.

Others enjoy love occasions... you will not be disappointed.

There are three things we do not publically discuss:



and Sex.

They are all there… which do you wish to talk about first?! 

Enjoy reading, and know it is written in love, with you in mind. 

 Evaluator’s comment

 ‘I thoroughly enjoyed reading these poems by new author, Barrie Blakeway. Some of them are written from life experiences. They are at times humorous and at other times extremely insightful. He wants people to enjoy their life’s experiences and connect with themselves, to enjoy what they have been given.’

In Store Price: $31.95 
Online Price:   $30.95



Ebook version - $AUD9.00 upload.

ISBN: 978-0-9944084-2-6
Format: Paperback
Number of pages: 354
Non Fiction

Cover Art by Trish Goody Art: 

Trish is a courageous lady. We worked together in real estate and soon after she developed a tumour on the spine. This completely incapacitated her for a couple of years and still has a huge effect on her life. She became a very talented artist, which she must have been in a previous life. I thank her for her artwork on the cover and suggest a visit to her website. She has exhibitions of her art the dates advised in her website www.trishgoody.com.


Without the Zeus team, well……!

Thank you in order of appearance:

Marilyn, Leanne, Trish, Clive and Zoe. 

Their combined talents equal a book!



Barrie Blakeway
Publisher: Zeus Publications
Date Published:  2016
Language: English





I was born in Gympie, Queensland and grew up in Cunnamulla, South-West Queensland. 

My education is still progressing. They put me in physics and chemistry at school, so I majored in rowing and then I became an accountant. 

I have enjoyed a great life, with many vocations, and know where all the dry gullies are; I would not change one day of my journey, which continues to challenge me daily. 

People have been, and will always be my main interest and love in life. Now I can write poems, verses, whatever, with a thought that may help someone. 

I am an ordinary bloke who believes in love and love begins when you truly love yourself; only then can you go on to love everybody. 

 I would not be writing to you now had I not met Jonathon Livingstone Seagull, a story by Richard Bach. This gull was pivotal in my search to understand why we are here on Earth. Surely there is more than being born, living and then dying? Jonathon turned me around from being a spectator in life to become a participator, a creator, which I really am.



(a Beginner’s View)


My gut is too big,

my feet are too small.

It’s a wonder I stand

erect at all!


Balance on one foot,

and hold that position,

is the time I wobble

and strain, and sweat…


Yet… hoping and wishing

that success will be mine,

if I could just reach my toes

without cracking my spine!


Feminine energy rules the room,

and some guys with no ego attend.

This is not footy, there’s no scrum,

the name of this game is ‘just bend’!


The mirrored walls record it all,

there is no escape from view.

Everyone, it seems, holds the pose

except for the unbalanced few!


The heat is great, I’m used to heat,

and the fact no one laughs really helps,

so I see just two areas essential to beat...

my big gut and small feet!


7 Jun 2012

A Kiss


There is a point

when we’re about to kiss

that focus is lost.

Until then, eye contact

has been electric,

and then the final move

is anticipation in action.


Tissue meets tissue,

gently, breathtakingly,

not wanting the moment

to ever cease.

Lips slightly parted,

gently touching,

neck tense,

not wishing to break

the spell…

the whole Universe

must be watching!


Then daringly,

lips apart,

breath inhales,

time stands still,

as pressure firms

and lips contort

to receive the incoming



Then follows rearrangement

as lips extract

maximum sensation.


Still breathing remotely,

your tongue

brushes mine.

A lightning bolt

hits my spine

as I taste

your internal juices.

Ecstasy is understanding

this galactic explosion!


My brain says

the moment is over.

I prolong the seeking,

each movement of my lips

feeling for maximum

tissue belonging,

as our mouths

refuse to believe

this moment

will ever end.


Your constantly probing mouth

enthralls my mind

which, already in overload

seems ready to explode!

Staying present,

devoured by your kiss,

the excitement screams,

knowing our intimacy

will soon send us

like a laser beam

into the vibrating


The Mask


I would like to introduce me

to me.

A strange thought it seems,

yet who is this man of dreams?

A man of many faces

as many faces

as he has been places.

Was I ever really me?

Is this what it is all about,

unmasking self?

Am I always the same,

in front of all?

The answer is no.

Many times I answer

a different call.

Can any one person say

they know me

behind the mask I wear?

Considering I have never

seen me,

except my reflection,

even I see another face

depending on the direction.


Will the real me

please come forward, now.

And a thousand different men

take a bow!


27 Sep 2000


Commenting on Henry Miller’s words:

“Every day we slaughter our finest impulses”


“What do you know about writing?

Who said you could become a writer?

You need a university degree for that

which you will never achieve!”


These words of discouragement

ring in my ears.

‘So much for bloody teachers,’

I thought.

‘Why do they call them ‘teachers’?’


So with this nagging background

I went forth to become an accountant.

A creative accountant, of course,

as creative as an accountant could be.

Then I had such strong feelings

for poetry I wrote it secretly,

never sharing it.

I couldn’t write. Hadn’t I been told!


Assholes! I can write!

I will write!

I am writing!



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