for my brother
On Sundays when we were younger
we drove to the shopping centre
in your 1977 Celica Mustang and smoked
the tyres in the back car park and played
We Can’t Be Beaten, loud as the stereo would go.
And then we’d spin each other
in shopping trolleys, until our eyes hazed over
and the sky was a kaleidoscope of blue and grey —
it was the only thing to do on Sundays.
Remember? You would tell me, you wanted to pull down the sky.
I could see, your eyes were already full of it.
Filed under poetry
for Sally
We stand together
our yellow coats
a welcome contribution
to the outback palatte
of red earth
and Mitchell Grass.
Two people immersed
in the descending
language of rain
one
having the time
of her life.
Filed under poetry
Overload Poetry Festival in Melbourne kicks off this Friday, and in the lead up, the Overload crew have been busily updating their website. There’s some audio goodness if you scroll down toward the bottom of their home page, including two tracks from my set with Sheish Money in the Trade Hall last year. The two tracks are Sentinel & And What Voice Says. To have a listen, go to: http://overloadpoetry.org/
Enjoy,
i.
tonight we kiss in the rain
sheltered under the Pepper Tree
the old dog curls up at our feet
wanting the same attention
ii.
dreaming I’m a seashell
rolling waves gilt
with foam, listening
to everyone else’s conversation
iii.
in the immense quietness
of winter evenings
breathing
as lightly as a gull
iv.
wake early
sunlight and a splinter
of bird song
slips through the window
v.
so often my thoughts turn bitter
I don’t want them to
but the radio reminds me
I am not fond of this world
vi.
checking my reflection
in a puddle –
the word flow
must not be disturbed
vii.
alleyways of tattered houses
and old men
washed up like birds
with their sex broken
viii.
my bad mood’s not
serious & doesn’t last
long – the air is
fragrant from cut grass
ix.
look at the bird
at the edge of its nest
look at the emptiness
now look at the sky
x.
alone at last
a voice hanging
on the corner
of the city
Filed under poetry
Here in Brisbane, it’s ‘People’s Day’ at The Ekka. I am just about to pack my bags and head off to take in all the tastes, sounds, scents and sights of the show… and remember, if you are at The Ekka today, come along and see us at 5pm on The Community Stage.
Here’s a few haiku to start your morning and bring a little of The Ekka into your day.
dodgem cars
waiting for the sparks
to fly
grand parade
the lowing of cattle
drowns in itself
pink nose of the bull bristled by our scent
Filed under poetry
Some good news in… I have just had four new poems published at Escape Into Life. EIL publishes poetry, art reviews, essays and interviews, with some incredible artwork and photography thrown in for good measure. It truly is a beautifully put together site, so why not spend some time escaping over there.
Filed under poetry, poetry & publishing
Today I came home to the pleasure of the two latest copies of The Lilliput Review, one of the coolest little magazines you could ever set your hands on and if you need proof, check out this gem from an earlier issue, currently posted on Issa’s Untidy Hut (the blog of The Lilliput Review)
Voyeur
that heavy breath
against smeared glass
the poet rubbing
windows
for the world to
peep through
Melissa Cannon
The magazine features haiku, artwork and other short poems from around the world and has already helped ease me into the weekend groove, with its many wisdoms.
So here’s a selection of my own haiku… I hope they help lead you into your own weekend space.
whistling
in the bamboo grove
August wind
turning my back
you can make love now
pigeons
sun in the west
between us
not a word
Filed under poetry, poetry & publishing
The whole Banned Books thing sent me to my bookshelf and one of the spines that spoke to me straight away was Three Way Tavern by the incredible Ko Un. Korea’s greatest living poet and humanitarian, Ko Un was jailed four times for his political activities against an authoritarian government. His work is revolutionary. He describes his poetry as:
“… flow. That flow will at times produce rhythms as it strikes against the riverbanks or frolics, speckled by light and shade. Thus my poetry is resonance. In an interview with the New York Times in the late 1980s, I said that `poetry is the music of history,’ stressing the music no less than the history.”
Here are five short poems:
Two beggars
sharing a meal of the food they’ve been given
The new moon shines intensely
*
In a poor family’s yard
the moon’s so bright it could beat out rice-cakes
*
Get yourself a friend
come to know a foe
Get yourself a foe
come to know a friend
What kind of game is this?
*
A thousand drops
hanging from a dead branch
The rain did not fall for nothing
*
Without a sound
resin buried underground is turning into amber
while above the first snow is falling
Translated from the Korean by Brother Anthony of Taizé, Young-moo Kim and Gary Gac (taken from The Nation)
You can also read more of Ko Un’s work in issue #34 of Jacket.
Ko Un’s work sings of freedom, sings of tomorrow… perfect for this Spring day.
Filed under poetry & publishing
I had an incredible time in WA recently at Spring Poetry Festival and now I want to share with you the words pouring out from that side of the country. First up, here’s a poem from Amber Fresh and Janet Jackson.
BRISBANE
by Amber Fresh
so i’ll write about brisbane
to avoid a confession
to avoid the confession i’m
queen of unkindness
i went to the city
city of water
city of lights
city of refuge
state of confession
state of excitement
i walked right around
walked right over
over the streets
over the grease
over the grass
over the water
over and over and over the water
i walked all the way
hands in my pockets
hands up to no good
i sat all alone
all alone in a crowd of self-consciousness and longing and i
pinned you up a little note on the
noticeboard closest to your house
between househunters and prayer groups and
everything new farm and it said
i am the queen of unkindness
though not in those holy words
brisbane is to sydney what adelaide is to perth
northam is to brisbane what mt barker is to canberra
brisbane is to perth what you are to me and
of course i imagined you were there
when the music travels in
it travels in through your ears and straight to your heart
that’s the moment you know what i mean
when you told me you were married
well we all know what that means but it’s
not what you think
the haiku started, MR, IN A STATE OF EXCITEMENT,
and finished, HOLDING OUT HIS HAND
this self reference helps to
create a fantastic disguise in which
each girl is in the correct bed
each girl begins to read in the desert,
holding out her hand
holding her hand out to the faraway tree
the faraway tree of mother
(hesitate the word nature)
(hesitate the word mother)
(hesitate the word Christian)
there was a man in the desert
a man from a book
with a stick
and a tome
in a state of excitement holding out his hand
today i told you the truth
today i told you a secret
but i didn’t confess one bit
About Amber:
Amber Fresh is a writer from Perth (via Albany and Paris). Her poems have been published in Westerly, Navigations, Cottonmouth Zine, MoTHER [has words...], The Ponies Zine, and Metior. This year she released her first book of poetry, “Between You and Me”, with funding from the Department of Culture and the Arts. She writes on a typewriter and makes music in a band called Rabbit Island.
Aren’t we?
by Janet Jackson
Just text me, will you?
I don’t know where you are
but I’m in the park
with my phone, crying
behind sunglasses
So life is really
friends & their babies
and not these obsessions and loves?
Life is that? All the
shallow smiles?
A man does tai chi, or something.
Does it help?
He does it fast, jerky.
I thought tai chi was slow.
It’s scary.
I wanted to be with you all day
Just hanging out, not saying much,
playing guitars
A black-booted woman texts somebody
Let’s all text each other Let’s
hug hello, hug goodbye We’re
one big village
Aren’t we?
This is why people get spiritual.
I tried that and found
that spirit needs to be shared
to be sustained.
Needs communion.
In that moment, as I underlined communion,
you texted me.
In that moment
I thought
it mattered.
About Janet:
Since 1986 Janet Jackson has sculpted in English, seeking poems that work whether declaimed loudly or whispered in the mind.
Janet featured at the inaugural Missing Link Festival (Perth 2008), the 2006, 2007 and 2008 WA Spring Poetry Festivals and 2007 and 2008 Melbourne Overload Poetry Festivals. She has featured at many readings, performances and slams and can be heard at all the places in Perth where poets gather.
Her poems have been published in many print and online magazines and anthologies, and she has self-published three chapbooks and her own website, Proximity.
Her first collection, Coracle, was published in March 2009.
Janet is the convenor of The Line Mine, an online community promoting poetry events in Perth, and the organiser of the Perth Poetry Club.
Filed under poetry & publishing
Well the ALS 2009 Tour rolls on, and the 4th leg of the tour took me too the cooler climes of Melbourne town. The big difference on this leg of the tour was that guitar-slinging Rock Pig, Sheish Money was along for the ride. Now Sheish and I have played lots of local gigs, but outside of QLD and Northern NSW, the other states have so far missed out on the Nunn/Money experience. So I have to say… we were fairly excited!
Friday kicked off with the launch of Overload 2009 at the Fitzroy Town Hall, MC’d by poetic raconteur, Myron Lysenko. A truly beautiful venue and great space to mingle with the Melbourne poetry crowd. I was really impressed by the passion of the Mayor who delivered the best speech I have ever heard from a politician at such an event. You really got the sense that she was right behind the festival. After the speeches, The Heart Chamber featuring Matt Hetherington, Tom Joyce, Lia Hills, Marian Spires & Michelle Leber performed a set of love poems. Matt Hetherington’s poem , When I Am Not With Her There Where She Is, the absolute stand out and one of the best contemporary love poems I have read in the last decade.
So with the room feeling the love, Santo Cazzati hit the mic dressed in checked suit and matching hat with all the energy of a box of snakes, promising us to keep us safe from the Fitzroy Ghouls as he lead the poetry crawl, Takin’ it to the Streets. And we were off…
First Stop Dantes.
Kicking things off was Gabrielle Everall (WA), who I had seen perform last weekend in Perth. Gabrielle delivers her words in a darkly musical voice. Her poems brimming with equal parts beauty and menace. Her set was followed by fellow West Australian, Vivienne Glance and the man who is on a quest to become Australia’s first poet laureate, Ben Pobje. So with the first leg of the crawl setting the bar high, the crowd was whitled into action, and set off to Southpaw in pursuit of Santo Cazzati and the offerings of poems by Anthony O’Sullivan, Jenny Toune, Kimberley Mann & Sam Byfield. Sadly, Sheish and I had to miss Stop Two to rush back to The Nunnery, get our gear and head off to Blue Velvet to sound check for the the third and final stop for the night.
Third Stop Blue Velvet.
With the sound check done and the crowd squeezing in to the lounge-room sized back room, we hit the stage to open proceedings. No intros, no talking, just the sparkle of Sheish’s big red Kasuga brightening my poems. This was the teaser for Saturday night’s set, so we played only three poems Nomads, Ocean Hearted & Seeing a girl off in a summer storm. The room feel into that deep silence, and for those few minutes, the world seemed to close its eyes. We looked at each and smiled, eager to play an extended set tomorrow night. We were then followed by the be-helmeted Alex Scott and Bribane’s surrealist wildcard, Ghostboy. A Ghostboy set is something to behold. The crowd is just as much a part of the show as the man/ghoul/poet himself. Tonight Ghostboy tied one woman to a chair and incited another pair of ladies to passionately kiss on the carpet. He was on, the crowd lapped it up and he lapped the cheeks of several men in the audience.
We had taken to the streets and the streets had embraced us.
Saturday was the big one… tonight Sheish and I stretched our poetic riffs at the Bella Union Trades Hall, sharing the stage with tap-dancing poet Jenny Toune and the mighty Sean M. Whelan & the Interim Lovers. Jenny kicked things off with a show that blew away all my expectations. I have to admit, when I read tap-dancing poet, I wondered whether one of the art forms would suffer, but within minutes, she put all those concerns to rest. She had the moves and the words to make the stage light up. It was a great opening set and a real pleasure to have seen.
Sheish and I were up next, and champing at the mic. From the moment we plugged in, it felt good. We opened with Gutter & Edge which is on the forthcoming CD and the sound, lights and crowd were all in sync. From there we kicked in to Save Me/Lessons, Sheish showing off his full-throated growl, with me stepping in and out to punctuate the verses. It was then in to the newer poems, Sentinel and And What Voice Says. The dark guitar loop and lead flourishes giving And What Voice Says a whole new life. Sheish then pumped straight into the big open chords of Grounded before channeling Bootsy for a funky version of Oooo… We then reinterpreted old favourite In Devotion 
to Life’s Sordid Affairs and closed the set with Sheish tearing into the mic with his song Poetry and this Lost Shark, dropping in Point Danger between verses. It was a tight set, the interplay was good and we walked off stage, only to be called on for an encore. This is where the true brilliance of Sheish comes into play. I named a poem and he just knew the right chords… it was off the cuff, it was spontaneous and it was right. We walked off into bright lights of the Bella feeling good.
And to round off the night Sean M. Whelan & the Interim Lovers took to the stage unveiling a new set of poems, which reinterpret the Lewis Carrol classic, The Hunting of the Snark. Whelan is a gifted poet and performer. Tonight he swayed with the band’s subtle movements and writhed as they reached crescendo. The poems, never overshadowed by the band and the band… well, I was mesmerised. In fact I could have watched/listened to it all again. I look forward to seeing this project evolve.
And with MC Steve Smart, bringing the night to a close, we all stumbled off into glorious Lygon Steet for more wine, pizza and endless conversation.
During my time at Overload I also had the pleasure of seeing Eric Beach at The Dan; Santo Cazzati, Steve Smart & Carmen Main, Eddy Burger and Jo Truman & Warren Burt at Glitch Bar and launching Maurice McNamara’s debut collection, Half-Hour Country at Dantes (more about that soon).
There is something incredibly special that happens when poets come together… and this Lost Shark was once again, honoured to be a part of the poetry community. Sheish and I tip our hats to James Waller and crew for all their hard work. I hope you guys are still revelling in it.
To keep up to date with all the Overload events visit Overland and be sure to leave a comment.
NB: All photographs taken by Michael Reynolds… one of this world’s true gentlemen.
Filed under events & opportunities
