On the Seventh Day pre-Christmas, this author said to me … (Mary Stone)

It’s official – Christmas is still too close.

Today’s reflection is Mary Stone’s thoughts on writing her poem ‘Sticky Note’. This one got a great reception at the launch when read by the author – don’t you want to see what the fuss is all about?

I know, I’m a shameless promoter. At least I’m consistent in being shameless about admitting that.

Beau Hillier | Editor, page seventeen


I often pick up random bits and pieces from the ground – particularly discarded notes. I’m fascinated with both the range and delivery of their content: miffed missives between house-mates or the stuff people to buy, and the way they express and prioritise a simple shopping list. I’m also just as enthralled by their scribing methods: exquisite calligraphy (especially in another alphabet) to almost illegible scrawl.

My favourite pieces are those that are trampled on, mud spattered or tyre marked.
One day, whilst walking around aimlessly through Melbourne’s labyrinth of lost laneways, I found a screwed up sticky note that contained no content. I was mildly disappointed but it also reminded me of a recent blank text sent to me from my ex. Our breakup was fresh in my mind and my anger was still palpable at that stage. I had lunch and noted down a few random thoughts and ideas into my iPhone. One idea was to play around with the notion of a sticky note and link it to masturbation.

Upon reading my poem it might seem obvious who are the protagonist and antagonist – by virtue of pronoun placement (i.e. myself and my ex). However the roles can just as easily be reversed. Change the placement of some of the pronouns to reflect this and the  finger pointing could be aimed at me. The accusative tone used could also have applied to both of us.

I loved messing with misinterpretation, since a blank note is, after all, just a blank note with no intention. Paranoia has its place when, uninvited, it plays unfair games in the Relationship Playground.

I loved writing this piece – it was wonderfully cathartic.


A poet and musician for several years, Mary Stone has recently delved into the spoken word arena. Mary, whose work has been described as visceral and sometimes puerile, can be seen working around Melbourne’s open-mic scene – occasionally foisting herself upon an unsuspecting audience.