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Sunday, 16 December 2007

Snorkel # 6



The Snorkel Team have put out another vibrant ezine issue Snorkel # 6 , that bridges that gap of water and poetic thinking called the Tasman. Michael Hall's poem about rain Christmas eve, has the best opening line, and for sheer cheek - Greg McClaren, is the ticket in his scissoring up of reportage on poets celebrating themselves.

In this issue I get to Run Away in a Dodgem Car, no key needed.

Sunday, 30 September 2007

Thirst - Radio Mix



Bron Thomason has recently launched the third issue of Thirst, with its dreamy dust cover, and good things inside: short stories, a bit of art work and poetry, kindly including one of my scanned images Avian Objects at Rest (posted in Opp.Cite) and a poem Early Nectarine.

As I couldn't get to the launch at Kris Hemensley's mecca Collected Works Bookshop in Melbourne, I sent a radio mix audio of Early Nectarine, working on the Eno-esque Music for Airport style. Stay tuned for the next post with the Nectarine Radio video....

Friday, 17 August 2007

SWEET SECTIONS OF SKY - A conversation in two languages





Si amas la libertad de tus ojos es que sabes que tu mirada es “el paisaje”. Que tu retina recoja todo el azul profuso que habita el cielo. Porque el azul de tus ojos no profana silencios y tus palabras son dulces como lenta floración de asfódelos. Que descubran tus ojos la vigencia del vacío, el valor de lo invisible en las vísceras del cielo.
By Santiago Aguadad - in reply to

This morning I woke to find the jacaranda blossoms, a soft blue that runs into purple, have been arranged by the wind onto the green lawn in our garden. I can see the curved shadow they caste, and the blue mauve on the grass is like sweet sections of sky that the tree has fished down.

Later I went for a long walk following the ridge that runs around the bay, to the middle headland that extends into the harbour. At first I notice just one, then dozens, then hundreds of white butterflies which have emerged from the wild heath land. They are powder white, with black edges, and so many of them travelling in casual pairs that I can watch their shadows on the pathway, and the whole air is laced and woven with their movement – which is fabulously incessant and erratic. They ride the wind, beat madly, fly straight up, they go sideways and backwards, and for an hour they don’t stop. When I get back to my house they are starting to settle on the spring flowers- the callistemon and grevilleas. The blue sky is flecked white with them like they are impossible animated snow. I can’t think or talk properly for watching them.

I am reading Antonia Porcia “I am chained to the earth to pay for the freedom of my eyes.” I like very much the freedom of my eyes.

Carol Jenkins




Thursday, 16 August 2007

PARIENTES PROTESICOS

Él ha perdido todo sus miembros
y trece de sus parientes.

Como pasó fue así

El perdió su brazo
sobre el autobús, una pierna cayó cuando
perseguía el autobús.
La otra pierna paseó por sí misma
por la noche, el último brazo lo sintió puesto
Y desapareció después del desayuno.

Perdón, esto fue mentira

Ellos fueron destruidos
por una bomba americana
que cuesta 27 dólares
Rasgados, shredded en un guisado
espeluznante de detrito
que se mezcla con los órganos esenciales
de los trece parientes hechos explotar


Trece parientes

Pienso en mis dos niños,
un marido, una hermana,
tres hermanos, una madre, un padre
y no es suficiente,
Voy a casa de mi sobrino mayor,
mi sobrina más joven, mi tía favorita,
mi primo, tres meses más joven que yo,
a los siete y ocho años éramos dobles perfectos, el mismo peso, la altura, la puerta grande para tres carreras pedestres.

In un gesto de generosidad y reparación
los Británicos le han provisto
De brazos y piernas prostéticos,
Nuevos manos prostéticas
Que se abren y cierran,

ellos trabajan
sobre parientes prostéticos.


Translated into Spanish by Santiago Aguadad.


Prosthetic Relatives


He has lost all his limbs
and thirteen of his relatives

How it happened was this

He left his arm
on the bus, a leg fell off when
he was running after the bus
The other leg wandered off by itself
in the night, the last arm felt put upon
and disappeared after breakfast

No sorry, that was a lie
They were blown off
by an american bomb
that cost $27 US dollars
Ripped, shredded into a lurid
stew of detritus
combining with the essential organs of
the thirteen exploded relatives

Thirteen relatives

I think of my two children,
one husband, one sister
three brothers, one mother, one father
not enough,
I go to my eldest nephew,
my youngest niece, my favourite aunt
my cousin, three months younger than
me, at seven and eight we were a double of
sorts, same weight, height, gate
great for three legged races

In a gesture of generosity and reparation
the British have provided
him with prosthetic arms and legs,
brand new prosthetic hands
that open and close,

they are working
on prosthetic relatives.



First published in Overland 178.



With thanks to Santiago Aguadad, who lives in Heuvla.


Wednesday, 25 July 2007

The River Road Poetry Series



By the !st December 2007 I will be ready to launch the River Road Poetry Series, with a feast of recordings by fabulous Australian poems, read by their makers. The eries will start with will be three delicious anthologies - The Philosophy of Clothes, New Felons, Scissors, Paper, Fire, Water and collections by Michael Sharkey, Brook Emery, Judith Beveridge, Stephen Edgar, David Musgrave, joanne burns and Susan Hampton. And that's just for starters.


The series will establish River Road Press - a brand new publishing house that will focus on the poetry as a spoken art. Poetry as it should be up close and personal - Coming soon to CD /MP3 / PC/Mac near you.


At the moment River Road Press is by invitation only and is not seeking submissions from poets but if you want to kept posted on what is happening send your email to RiverRoadPress(at) gmaildotcoom to subscribe to the newsletter.

Monday, 23 July 2007

Brown Rock Dreaming it's a Dog



Of all the thoughts submerged, in cold
water stillness, I find you, sleeping,
breathing just above
the water line, good dog, good dog.

Thursday, 19 July 2007

Cloud Me

These late July clouds were auditioning for a part in Cloud Me - an argument in the form of a poem which you can read in foam:e 4
- one strand argues that Dawkins is short-sighted and the real stayer in  what goes to make up the  human form is good old water.

Saturday, 14 July 2007

24, 25, 26....

In an inexplicble trifecta effect, MTC Cronin, the guest editor of the next issue of Cordite, has selected two of my poems in all Innocence - that being the theme of Issue 26 and the anonymous submission selection method.

The last two of Cordite's guest editors, Clair Gaskin and alicia sometimes, also gave me the editors tick. Very mysterious but pleasing. You can check out Dispossesion in Cordite 25 and Party Platform in Cordite24.

Other work soon to be hatched to the public is a spoken word piece called Bambi-raptor, which will be out in the next Double CD Issue 25 of Going Down Swinging . Some one in my house assures me Bambi-raptor proves I in the grip of a mental disorder - so listen carefully.

Sunday, 24 June 2007

Treasure Islands - the e-map

You can read more of my work in these these journals and e- zines,

Kulin Seasons in print in Overland Issue 185, or online at Overland 185.

Party Platform in the online Common weatlh issue of Cordite# 24.

Dispossesion in the online Generation of Zeroes issue Cordite #25.

Holy Ghost me in the May 2007 issue of Nth Position and

When Evening Drowning Call Me in October 2006 NthPosition
to be continued.....

Wednesday, 20 June 2007

Clubland

I saw the preview of Cherie Nowlan's Clubland last night. This is life as a comedy reverse parking in a smash- the -rear- view- mirror- off style into tragedy. In a strange way Clubland is a bit like what Jane Austen might write now, the intense meetings of two families and the foibles of an aggrandizing parent, the way the plot unfolds from the characters being brought to the boil.

One of the best bits for me were the visuals. The house with its above ground pool , complete with exposed plumbing and lattice screening - and inside, where we squeeze around corners and through the kitchen hutch are pre- loaded site gags . When Jean's floral t-shirt segues into the patterned bedroom wallpaper blend I had one of those ooh oohh experiences, it works as this wonderful visual metaphor that she accepts she does not have to be centre stage. This reminded me of how Tilda Swinton’s eye colour changed to match the period in Orlando. The scene where Khan and Emma are both po faced in the truck wearing matching insignia shirts is also very wry. And the script is funny.

Saturday, 9 June 2007

When Evening Drowinng

You can read the poem When Evening Drowning that relates to this photo collage in the UK ezine Nth Position.