Ruby Street

OK, again no top tens from me, but Mark Young has tagged me for a list of poetry books that have influenced me. I really have to divide it into phases, but I will only do two phases, however. First, the books I read, indeed, bought, when I was a teenager when I thought that I could write poetry. These are still books I have, and most of them are anthologies or selecteds. This is due pretty much to the limited literary landscape of a suburban kid during the Australian dark ages. I still consult the Montale. The Poets World (Aust edition), ed by James Reeves - was actually a school text. The copy I have before me as I type is Annette's. The Penguin Book of Japanese Verse, ed Bownas and Thwaite The Penguin Book of Contemporary Verse, ed Allott Voices - the third book, edited by Geoffrey Summerfield Collected Poems, T.S. Eliot Selected Poems, Montale (Penguin Modern European Poets) Then, there's a second round of books which influenced me from a later period when I got serious abo...

The owl has moved on, by the way. We wish it well and hope it's not been separated from its group too soon in its life. But what do I know about the southern boobook. I hope that Annette's pix of it will turn out better than my own. A southerly came through today with a welcome change and a bit of rain, even a touch of thunder. But also, the change may have caused some nasties to grab a hold of my throat and sinuses. I shall now crawl off to bed and hope for the best. But I feel a cold or worse coming on. Boring.

And in all of this I forgot such thing as 'In the Mood For Love', or 'Down By Law' (and 'Night on Earth') or 'Dead Man Walking'. Let alone my own oddities such as 'Two Girls and a Sailor' (oh June Allyson!), or 'The Last Emperor', or 'A Fish Called Wanda', 'Die Hard', 'Raiders of the Lost Ark', 'Dr Zhivago', 'Now Voyager', 'Reds', or that movie with one of the Bridges boys, 'Starman' was it? I should stop or I will go on.

I have also been tagged by Richard Lopez to do a top ten film list. Again, I just can't do the 'ten' thing . But what I thought I'd do is list some further movies that, for me, come from a certain era and had an effect on me, sometimes because of who I was with when I saw them as much as the movie itself. Occasions are important. And because I'm doing this in response to Richard's tag, he of "really bad movies", I've tried to keep more or less to popular(ish) and, mostly, English language films that, at some time or another (not necessarily at their first release by any means), I saw on screen, not in my lounge room. O Lucky Man Don't Look Back Romeo and Juliet My Fair Lady The Swiss Family Robinson Whistle Down the Wind Dr Strangelove Barbarella A Hard Days Night The Endless Summer A Man and a Woman The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie Fantastic Voyage The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming Five Easy Pieces The Passenger Close Encounters o...

It's something quite uncommon amongst the wings of our small sun. We adjust our measures to what’s found strain to see, wings are white and dun. Green gaze sizes up an omen a regard that’s direct, precise, profound. My eyes are all tears and flaw my head bears its tipsy vertigo roll cursing the limits of my prospect where vision construes a fully other soul appreciates the danger claw that it’s not feather green up there. Though sunshine makes the scene turn gay I feel the mark, of being prey.

Meritage Press announces the recipient of "The Filamore Tabios, Sr. Memorial Poetry Prize" - and the winner is Jean Vengua for her manuscript, Prau . Many cheers and congrats.

A wonderful discovery this morning. Annette called me out into the garden, saying 'get your glasses on, there's an owl in the backyard'. Quiet as we could, despite morning traffic, landing jets, neighbourhood noise, despite the fact that other birds were squawking at it and around it, we edged out under one of the jacaranda trees. And looking up, there it was. An owl! There's something about being steadily regarded by an owl, almost as though the other is looking right through you, slightly chilling. An anthropomorphism, I know, but that was the feeling. We fluffed around with binoculars, my ditzy digi camera, the field guides to Australian birds (we have two). So far as we can determine, it's a southern boobook, probably a young one in what they call the pale phase. It looked big to us but it's probably within the 30 cm measure, which isn't a small bird. It also appeared tired. It yawned, if birds yawn, and looked as though it was trying to rest. I then rec...