Monthly Archives: January 2012

January Pin-Up Week #3: new work from Michelle Dicinoski

Fridays… staying up late, the tinkle of gin on ice and Pin-Up-Poets… what could be better! This week we get a glimpse of some exciting new work from our January Pin-Up, Michelle Dicinoski.

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I believe you have started some new work recently. Have any themes started to develop? And can you shed some light on how a poem happens for you…

I’ve been writing non-fiction almost exclusively for the last year or two, so it’s been difficult to start writing poems again. More difficult than I had hoped! I am just rediscovering my poetry process, and for me poems happen very slowly. Probably 95% of my writing is revision, so I will write something, and then revise numerous times, over months and sometimes years. But this year I am also hoping to shake up my approach a little, experiment more, and see what happens. It’s way too soon to talk about themes. But I have noticed that dreams and insects seem to be coming up a lot. God knows what that means.

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Pink Cities

You say you sleep with movie stars
and fly with rocket boots.
Circling pink cities
you drink margaritas from a backpack
with a straw that’s worn as spectacles.
Living the dream, my friend.

Maybe that’s all you remember.
Or maybe it’s a cover story.
Listen, do you really know
what goes on in that head of yours?
Nights, you spend eight hours
unconscious in the theme park.
Mornings, you pick yourself up
at the chain-link gate
throat sore from screaming
pockets free of keys and change and
before you can make out their faces
all your companions flee into the street
on footfalls like fists to a pillow.

From the kitchen, the smell of coffee,
the low buzz of radio.
The sweet relief of a warm body
yours, someone else’s,
and one more morning.

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Michelle will be featured in the Arts section of Brisbane News next week, so be sure to check out the issue online.

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Goodnight, Spider

The daddy-long-
legs
, as if bitten
twists in the heavy
rain, stretches legs
that tip-toe across
ground, but take
on no weight
or traction:
in the frenzied
dim of things, doubles
over, eight eyes
fixed on silver
abdomen, kissing it
goodbye as it hits
the lip of a storm
drain and drops.

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Bright the Harvest Moon

I have had a real ‘haiku-headspace’ of late, so it is a great pleasure to be able to publish this review of John O’ Connor’s collection, Bright the Harvest Moon by Patricia Prime.

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Bright the Harvest Moon by John O’Connor, Christchurch. Poets Group, Christchurch. (2011). 100 pp. p.b. RRP: NZ$20. ISBN: 978-0-9582191-6-7.

A consistent innovator, John O’Connor has been a leader in contemporary New Zealand haiku for several decades. His new collection, Bright the Harvest Moon, focuses attention on his unusual blend of typography, font styles and symbols.

The haiku are inspired by traditional influences – haiku written by the Japanese masters – Basho, Buson, Issa, Shiki, and others. Noted for its tenderness and its irony, O’Connor’s work has revolutionized form in New Zealand haiku by taking words from various sources to create haiku to which he has applied his imagination to create new structures that support ambiguity, juxtaposition and humour, as we see in these two examples from After Basho:

Though singing till nightfall –
thinking the skylark
hasn’t sung at all.

In fine rain –
straw coats & willows
toward the river.

Rapturous, yet paradoxically precise and incisive, O’Connor’s haiku are both theatrical and performative. The haiku display his exhilarating sense of language, as well as his predilection for the comic play of typography and font which is sometimes at odds with the seriousness of the haiku. There’s a dynamic play between coherence and incoherence at the heart of this collection. We’re soothed into a welcoming comfort through his grammatically normative phrases – and their meaning. While the originals of his haiku may be familiar to many readers, each of his is original. As he says in his Note: “. . . I have ignored the disjunctive linkage of renga & at times the prescriptions & proscriptions of haiku.”

In After Buson,

 Rising mist.
A thousand steps e c h o
the market sounds.

The long roadside grasses –
a grave-post among them.

The haiku retain all the flash and dazzle of the ephemeral, all the play with which readers of his haiku will be familiar. And it is out of that flickering indeterminacy that O’Connor constructs the humour that drives his poetry. His work gives an aestheticized, meditative turn to daily detail that reflects his knowledge of the Japanese masters and his familiary with the art of haiku.

O’Connor makes haiku that inevitably feel stylish, timeless, and marked by a precise lyrical grace. His love, respect and knowledge of the Japanese masters influences his own work. Always challenging convention and form, this collection of haiku is inspired by, or is his “imitations” of haiku written by Basho, Buson, Issa, Shiki, and others, as we see in the following four haiku:

From After Issa:

Beneath the blossoms
there are no strangers.

Walking to Shinano –
higher & higher
the rice planters’ song.

From After Shiki:

How low the graves
under the grass
of late summer.

After rain –
late sun    touching
the cicada.

His is a highly speculative poetic intelligence, both philosophically elegant and lyrically charged. Meditative and mysterious, his haiku track the subtle moments of consciousness against the background of nature and human nature, as we see in the following four haiku:

From After the Followers of Basho:

So carefully
placing snow on this tray –
“autumn flowers”.

(After Kikaku)

From After Other Haiku Masters:

Delaying my journey
yet again
for spring.

(After Ryota)

The collection uses typeface, typography and symbols as a point of departure to alter our traditional ideas of haiku. Employing fragmentation and ellipsis, allusion and occasional symbols as a springboard that takes us back to the original haiku, but also emphasizes the public nature of personal experience; this is a collection to delight every reader of haiku.

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Traveling West

The sorghum field
is red with seed
heavy ears
spangling into bells
of light

We have come
as far as words
will take us, now
it is time to disperse
the wonder of our gain

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I am just back from a trip out to Roma and feeling in love all over again with the wide open landscapes of Western QLD. I had the great privilege of meeting with many local writers and will be blogging about my experience on the Arts QLD site in the next few days. I will let you know when the post goes live, so you can click on over to join the discussion about writing in this great state of ours.

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the last weed
darkness creeps
down his back

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The ‘Friday Night Lights’ Project

Over the past fortnight, a plan has been hatched by this Lost Shark, Ashley Martin and Cindy Keong, a plan inspired by the wonderful blog, 3191 Miles Apart. The plan is for Ashley and I to write a poem and for Cindy to take a photograph between the hours of 6pm and midnight every Friday for the remainder of the year. Hence the name, Friday Night Lights. With each of us, creating in our own part of the world, the project will showcase a spontaneous dialogue between three artists. A new blog will eventually be established to host this project, but for now, here is the result of our first collaboration. One week in and it’s got me very excited!

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Friday Night Lights: Friday 13 January

The night is a handful
of marbles, flung into
the sky

Time serves itself
with lemon for sipping
slowly

The television is a two-
year-old with an upset
stomach

Content in the echo
mosquito shimmering lines
of poems

The hunger to gather
light and diagram this mute
journey

Rub the space between
us, the shape of what is
about to happen

GN

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CK

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If I am doing this right there will be sparkle on the pots and pans because dinner went as planned as though your mother made it wearing her apron if I am doing this right there will be that edge and it will catch the white and unassuming light like my ring when the diamond fell from its setting if I am doing this right there will be no sign other than the one in bird eyes and sunrises and days on a calendar and my own two hands

AM

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January Pin-Up Week #2: Michelle Dicinoski

It’s Friday, time to check in with our January Pin-Up-Poet, Michelle Dicinoski.

In asking a handful of people to send me their poetry pick of 2011, Canadian poet, Jacqueline Turner turned me on to Sachiko Murakami’s, Project Rebuild, where she invites people to renovate both her own and other writers’ poems and in doing so asks, what is poetry but a rental unit of language? What is your take on this question?

I agree with Murakami that everyone inhabits a poem in a different way as they read it, write it, or re-write it. I probably wouldn’t use the word ‘rental’ because it makes me think of rental properties, which can’t be physically altered by their occupants. A poem, on the other hand, is a very satisfying thing to inhabit, because you can knock it down in the afternoon and rebuild by dinnertime—and that’s part of the thrill of Project Rebuild. Murakami also said that the project aimed ‘to challenge the notion that the poems we write belong to us, that we are anything but temporary residents in the tenement house.’ This is absolutely true of poems, as it is of everything that we make or have. I had a go at renovating Phoebe Wang’s poem ‘Vancouver Special,’ which is a renovation of Sachiko Murakami’sVancouver Special’, which itself is a renovation of Murakami’s first version of ‘Vancouver Special’ .

My renovation is called ‘Brisbane Plain.’

While we’re talking about (im)permanence and houses and renovations, I’d like to mention that this week marks a year since the Queensland floods. And precisely a year ago, on January 13, the Brisbane River reached its flood peak at about 4 a.m. My house flooded, so I have quite strong memories of that week. For the longest time, reporters were talking about the flood height at the ‘city gauge,’ which is one of the official spots where the river height is measured. So for this week’s poem, I thought I would share my poem ‘The City Gauge,’ which is all about that weird time. It first appeared in the Australian Literary Review.

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The City Gauge

The twenty-first century quits at two
when the water drinks the fusebox and the house blacks out.
Now, we raise our lives higher by torchlight
and listen to the frogs’ admonitions:
your houses are islands, yep, yep, yep.

It’s true. Every hour drowns another front step.
Inside, telling storeys of desire:
we stack poems on clothing on mattress on table
(how high is high enough?)
till our histories loom all around us.

All night we lift, and listen to the radio
our nerves turned electric with news from the west.
All night we listen to talkback callers
whose voices ring out in our emptying rooms.
A woman says her neighbours are sleeping

so close, but too far to wake,
and the water’s rising
and she doesn’t know what to do.
Why does the darkness make voices more likely
to win or break our hearts?

Soon it will be dawn, soon it will be
weirdly beautiful—the water a foot from the floorboards,
high-set verandahs kissing their reflections,
six-foot fences vanquished—and soon we’ll realise
we’re trapped.

But for now, it’s night, and there’s just
the torchlight, and the radio voices
and the raising things up, the lifting that is like belief:
the best that we can do
but never high enough.

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Here’s a link to a photo of Michelle’s street taken almost a year ago to the day by Beard Street resident, Angus Sinclair and this is a link to an in depth review of Michelle’s stunning debut collection, Electricity for Beginners by Fiona Scotney.

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Poetic Opportunity – Triptych Poets Series

The good folk at Blemish Books are now welcoming submissions for their highly successful Triptych Poets Series, which publishes three contemporary voices alongside each other, much like the classic Penguin Modern Poets series did some years ago.

Submissions should include a suite of 15 – 25 poems (max 40 A4 pages), with the majority of the poems having been previously unpublished. For the full details, check out the guidelines. It’s a fantastic opportunity, so best of luck polishing up those poems…

Here’s a great review by Mark William Jackson of Triptych Poets #2, to give you all a taste of the work inside, and better still, if you want to get a sense of what the editors are looking for, why not pick up a copy of Issue #1 & #2 their bookstore.

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blood-red taillights in the wallaby’s eyes

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Symmetry Pebbles

The latest issue of Symmetry Pebbles was released today and I am happy to say, I have a handful of poems that have found a home in the issue. So why not click on over and sign up to have the issue emailed out to you…

I am sharing the pages with some mighty fine poets. They are also looking for submissions for their next issue, so be sure to check out the details when you are there… you never know, you may just find a home for some of your poems there too!

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