Interchange of Words

Dedicated to my Friends, Sandybeach Writers



I used to be embarrassed

of my own words

They poured out of me

and I felt uncomfortable

I kept hearing:

“Your writing is childish bliberish”

“Others are better than you”

“You are average”

Or my father’s,

“Let her write poems,

better than going with boys”


I met friends

they told me:

“Your words are beautiful”

“You are an artist”


I didn’t believe them

At first


Their words

Dangled with mine

And taught me acceptance of the beauty of both

Ellina Zipman

11 May 2016



I am a closed book.

One can’t read me from the beginning to end

Some can get a pick from a page

For others I am beyond comprehension

Nobody can get all of me

A poems collection

One can open me randomly

at selected pages

With one piece to be consumed at a time

One for my children

One for people I love

One for soulmates

One for acquaintances

I only open to few

No one can read me in full

Like blind men reading an elephant

They can only see an ear, or a trunk

Or a foot, or a tail

They can’t see the majestic creature

I am an abstract painting

A dotted art work

Moved from accustomed images

I am not a story

I am a single piece of fruit

To be tasted and savoured

I am a closed book to most

But some may get a pick

Ellina zipman

4 Sept 2015/Melbourne

The Path



Everything is a stepping stone

Stoned steps is everything

Stone to step on is a temporary dwelling

To dwell temporarily is to pass time

The time to dwell upon is a wasted stretch

Life wasted on temporary stones

Walking the stones is a side way

Stepping each stone is a path to move on.





ellina zipman


June 2014


Is it worth

Is it worth

surrendering your passion

for ego

giving up your heart

to credentials

embracing a statement

instead of feeling

a paper instead of flow

Is it worth

coming home

with a degree

instead of life skills

with a certificate to work

instead of licence to live

ellina zipman/Melbourne/2014