Showing posts from August, 2015

light at brighton

Yesterday, at Brighton Beach. One of the first continually sunny days for a while. Spring, almost. I don't really know Brighton, it's possibly only the third time in my life I've been there. Still, it's only a train journey away from home, so there I went, walking about, taking a photograph, writing a note or two:

afternoon sunlight turns silver on Holdfast Bay
clouds tack behind the hills
days are what tracksuit pants are for
another octopus pulled up onto the jetty
babies are simply babies, phones are
for taking pictures of the dog
pig face, beach reclamation, vanilla
or something more, he's yelling
instructions at the kids, 'head for the sandbank'
if you were here, or I was young in early spring
with stupid hats, dogs' bums, eternal prams
fishing tackle, without breaking like a wave
having the moment's recurrence
like a breeze through the gulf

readings: sound and (sometimes) vision ...

This coming September I will be doing at least one, if not two, poetry readings here in Adelaide. The definite gig will be Tuesday, September 29th 2015, at the terrific on-going series of Lee Marvin readings curated by the indefatigable Ken Bolton at the Dark Horsey Bookshop, part of the AEAF in Adelaide's West End. I'll be sharing the stage with my colleague, Brian Castro, among others. As soon as I know details of the other reading, I'll post that. I'm also scheduled for a reading in Sydney in late November and I'll post details of that if and when they are firmed up.

I used to do more readings. I've always liked doing them, especially in the company of other poets. I believe poems and poets need to be heard as well as read. Presumably because (a) I live in Adelaide not big smoke, (b) I am (ahem) not as young as I used to be, and (c) I don't hang around in gangs or coteries, I rarely get interstate gigs (even if I pony up with cash/FF for flights and can c…

still rough

lists flutter in the social breeze
of course, all the tribunals, modern tribes
a coast dark blue with them, somewhere

I go down to the gulf one day
join the breeze
and I don't know anyone

tide has washed in pieces of broken brick
the gulls dive for fish
if that means I don't care

though I pick up a piece
almost circular, red, mineral-specked
I could skim it

I put it in my pocket
it's still rough
there seems no point in keeping it

it's in a bowl on a low table
today is a grey day
I felt it just now

or merely blue

violins or guitars grip onto
a version of rain
it’s from another epoch rather than a fool’s paradise rather than now

even if it’s a lonely experience do you think it’s exceptional or merely blue, or
the way this day is until it changes

what i've been doing ...

The 'what I've been doing' conversation could go on for a while, especially given that, in this space, it's been a long time between drinks. For the nonce, I'll narrow it down to one small corner of 'what I've been doing recently'. One version can be seen in a few poems that were published in March this year in John Tranter's new Journal of Poetics Research. Here they are:

Five poems in Journal of Poetics Research

The older poem is 'Free Hand: A Kind of Thinking'. As well as, obviously, being a kind of ars poetica, it's length and its syntactic energies are different to the other poems, especially the first three. These may, or may not, appear in print later this year. I presume you can tell they are more stripped back, obviously shorter, full of questions and even imperatives (not so much in these but in others I've been writing), less image-driven, impatient. Whether I'll continue in this vein much longer, I don't know. It&#…