Monthly Archives: September 2009

SpeedPoets 8.7 featuring Alan Jefferies & Bruce Dorlova

Well, it is almost that time of the month again… time for the gathering that is SpeedPoets. So, if you are anywhere in the vicinity of Brisbane this Sunday (October 4), pack up your poems and head on down to … Continue reading

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Be Ready When He Comes

That whole dry winter, I listened to Skip James. Imagined him arriving at Newport after Elvis, wearing a simple black suit: those high top shoes and felt hat tipped over his eyes. Thought of him shy on stage with Bukka … Continue reading

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New Music for Lost Sharks

The new music cup is spilling over at the moment, with some very cool releases. Here’s a taste of what’s creating waves in the world of this Lost Shark.     Nick Cave & Warren Ellis – Sorya Market This track … Continue reading

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Terrigal Postcard #5

My wife has fallen asleep on the dune, her pose a snail baring its shoulders to the moon. I sneak a hand under her hair to fish for dreams.

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Terrigal Postcard #4

a child again the wave pulls me under

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Terrigal Postcard #3

We sit at the edge of the lake your shadow sewn into mine. You say Ursa Major resembles a polar bear the sight chills you all over. At this moment, two swallows ballet across the water ruffling the stars’ reflections. … Continue reading

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Terrigal Postcard #2

If only I could own this beach front cottage I’d enjoy golden sand from the deck by day and by night listen to the dialogue between ocean and sky. If only I could have keen eyes like Issa’s, able to … Continue reading

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Terrigal Postcard

Looking out my dusk-coloured window I measure  the depth of the distant ocean. After puffing air on the windowpane I trace a slender boat with my finger and at the end of a narrow path my wife’s face, returning from … Continue reading

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Hawkesbury River Postcard

A dinghy, long sunk, resurfaces at low tide gushing rust and seagrass, pulled back into rotted use by a family of gulls.

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Sydney Postcard: Victoria Park

Under an arcade of clouds and a sky growing pale the park gives up its green. Two wagtails voice their secret: Every pebble in this garden is round. We know – we have beaten them with our tails.

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