Tony Aloysius Amis - Poetry & Improv

03/03/2026

https://open.substack.com/pub/poetrynonstop/p/norfolk-poets-tony-amis-971?r=q3uen&utm_medium=ios

Tony Amis shares a couple of poems on the Norfolk Poets series.

12/10/2025

Another poem about our Holiday in Australia.

“Robe: Closed for Business (and Pleasure)”

I rolled into Robe with a Tourists grin,
Dreams of oysters, wine, maybe a cheeky gin.
But the town, it seems , had other plans
Like a pensioner napping with no set spans.

The bakery? Shut. The pub? On pause.
The surf shop’s locked with “Back at 4”
The Tourist Information a ghostly shell,
With a sign, “We’re off to smell the swell.”

I peered through glass at artisnal cheese,
But the fridge looked off
The smell through the cracks eased
“Staff on their knees
From a hectic week of selling brie.
Back Monday. Maybe. We’ll wait and see.”

The museum’s open “by appointment only,”
Which feels less quaint and just more lonely.
The wine bar’s hours? A cryptic riddle:
“Open when Cheryl’s back from fiddle.”

I tried to buy a fridge magnet, a choice bold!
But the gift shop’s shut for “inventory hold.”
I swear I saw tumbleseaweed
Roll past a sign: “We’ve all agreed
To take a break from commerce, g’day mate.
Come back next year. Or just…maybe…take up yoga or meditate.”

So I sat on a bench imagining a melting Cornetto,
Watching a dog chase a rogue Pelican or two,
And though my plans were in a mess,
Robe on the quiet still has photogenic zest.

For Robe, in slumber, taught me this:
Lifes not always hit or miss.
It’s just This.

—- fin ——

11/10/2025

Currently in Australia, Adelaide.

I missed National Poetry Day on 2nd October, here’s my poem after visiting Uluru.

Uluru: The Heart of Country
=====================

In the heart of the land where the red dust breathes,
Where the sun spills gold on the desert trees leaves,
Stands Uluru, ancient and vast,
A monolith of memory, holding fast.

Tjukurpa lives in its every fold
The Dreaming stories, timeless, told
By Anangu voices, soft and strong,
In rhythm with Country, in spirit and song.

Puli tjuta, many rocks, surround,
Kata Tjuta rises from sacred ground.
Their domes like elders, heads bowed low,
Guarding secrets only the initiated know.

The spinifex whispers, the mulga sighs,
Waru (fire) dances under desert skies.
Kuniya and Liru once clashed in sand,
Their battle etched by the ancestral hand.

Kuniya, the python, coils with grace,
Her path still marked on Uluru’s face.
Liru, the venomous snake, strikes fast
But Kuniya’s spirit over time lasts.

The ochre cliffs wear robes of flame,
Sunsets hue, never twice the same.
At dawn, a blush of apricot light,
At dusk, the cloak of indigo night.

Ngura, this place, is not just stone,
It’s kin, it’s lore, it’s flesh and bone.
This land is alive, it listens, it speaks,
In the rustle of leaves, in the dry creeks.

Minga crawl, and witchetty grubs hide,
Bush tucker thrives where the shadows abide.
The coolamon cradles fruits of the land,
Gathered with care by a woman’s hand.

Children laugh in the shade of trees,
Their voices carried on the desert breeze.
They learn the stories, they learn the law,
Of walking within Country every rock every maw.

No climbing now. ngapartji ngapartji, respect is due,
For this rock is sacred, not just a tourist view.
The rock is not ours to conquer or claim,
But to honour, to learn, we know its name.

Uluru, you are not alone,
You are the pulse, the ancient tone.
You are the fire in the elder’s gaze,
The echo of songs from primordial days.

You are the silence that speaks so loud,
The spirit that moves beneath every cloud.
You are the red, the ochre, the flame,
You are the everlasting story without a name.

So let us sit in your shadow awhile,
And listen with hearts open to you.
Let us walk softly, let us tread true,
And carry your wisdom in all that we do.

---fin—-

13/08/2025

Performance Poetry in Norwich.
My latest Gig on the Reflex Theatre Cabaret WIP bill.

Wednesday 27th August.

02/07/2025

Coming Soon.

Accompanied Poetry. Words & Music.

A departure from just the Spoken Word.