Posts tagged ‘2016’

Tuesday, 11 August 2020

Lazy Bones by Jill McDougall

I never help around the house,
I never sweep or scrub
I never do the washing up
I never clean the tub.

I never put away my toys
I never make my bed,
When brooms are banged and pots are clanged
I’m hiding in the shed.

I never do a single chore,
I don’t! And that’s a fact.
I slink away and doze all day
Like any other cat.

From: https://australianchildrenspoetry.com.au/australianpoets/k-o-2/jill-mcdougall/

Date: 2016

By: Jill McDougall (1951- )

Saturday, 18 July 2020

Fragment 26 by Alcman

No more, you honey-voiced maidens whose songs have a holy power,
can my frame bear my weight. I wish, I wish that I were
a kingfisher aloft with you halcyons over the sea-foam in flower,
holy, the color of ocean, light in my heart, and sure.

Note from the Translator: In this poem Alcman wishes he were a kerylos, an obscure word which Antigonus of Carystus, who quotes the poem, defines as a male halcyon, a mythical bird that borrows many of its traits from kingfishers. Antigonus adds: “When they become weak from old age and are no longer able to fly, the females carry them, taking them on their wings.” Unfortunately, there’s not much evidence for this charming story and the poem expresses a wish to fly with the halcyons, not on their backs. Some commentators think the fragment may be a prelude to a “maiden-song” (partheneion—Alcman’s main genre) that explains why the poet can’t join the choral dance; others go further and picture the chorus dressed as birds, while one even imagines them leaping into the sea, like Sappho from the Cape of Leucas. Such picturesque speculations don’t contribute much to our enjoyment of Alcman’s Greek, which lilts hypnotically along in a lyric dactylic hexameter full of evocative compound nouns and wistful repetitions. The contrast between the poet’s earthbound infirmity and his dreamy flight of lyric virtuosity makes this fragment Alcman’s loveliest and most poignant poem.

From: https://www.literarymatters.org/1-1-alcman-26/

Date: 7th century BCE (original in Greek); 2016 (translation in English)

By: Alcman (7th century BCE)

Translated by: Christopher Childers (19??- )

Sunday, 12 July 2020

Voidcraft by Ben Mirov

When the time comes for you
to board death’s shifty raft

of mirror shards and plastic coffee cups,
I hope you’re ready.

I hope you’ve made peace
with everyone you’ve ever done wrong

and you feel no more use for pencils
and your robe is warm and dry

and nothing obstructs
your view of the void.

When the moment arrives
I hope you pass through the membrane

that separates this world
from the next whatever

snowstorm wishbone yadda yadda
with very little pain. And a modicum of pride.

That’s all I have to say for now.
That’s all I ever have to say.

From: https://www.thespectrum.com/story/opinion/blogs/educationitself/2016/08/07/poem–day—voidcraft-ben-mirov/88360544/

Date: 2016

By: Ben Mirov (1980- )

Thursday, 2 July 2020

Poem in July by Samuel Amadon

I felt perfected along the rectangle
By its ragged side

Fences trees and mist dropping
Some space for the flowers

I set an image in my head where
Bushes in their out of focus

Made a green dearth about the door
I wanted to do a book on

Pages left in the heat or rain
But my desire seemingly disappeared

Picked up by a car in the middle of
A pack of cigarettes

This trip into the forest
The trees trading with memory to

Frame the various breaks
The pleasures of small laws cut

Behind the mower with my eyes
Running the grass blades

We don’t really get any older
I can see what that means.

From: https://poets.org/poem/poem-july

Date: 2016

By: Samuel Amadon (19??- )

Saturday, 27 June 2020

Boundaries by McKayla Robbin

no
is a necessary magic

no
draws a circle around you
with chalk
and says
i have given enough.

From: Robbin, McKayla, We Carry the Sky, 2016, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform: South Carolina, pp. [unnumbered].
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=bdYAMQAACAAJ)

Date: 2016

By: McKayla Robbin (19??- )

Monday, 1 June 2020

Reading the Landscape by J P Quinton

To read a landscape by another landscape;
Valley cloud reveals altitude.

To read the landscape visits the ego
That prevents a proper reading.

To this landscape, the circular fireplace
And a straight trunk – xanthorrhoeas present.

To read this landscape to the tune of other words,
As moisture moves us, is us, drowns us.

To read the landscape like a book
Means to think like a border

Like the roos who still jump
Where the fences have been removed.

From: https://www.australianbookreview.com.au/poetry/states-of-poetry/states-of-poetry-western-australia/180-states-of-poetry-western-australia/3218-states-of-poetry-western-australia-reading-the-landscape-by-j-p-quinton

Date: 2016

By: J P Quinton (1981- )

Thursday, 5 March 2020

There Came by Amanda Lovelace

there came
a time
when
poetry
showed me
how to
bleed
without
the demand of blood.

– my most loyal lover.

From: Lovelace, Amanda, The Princess Saves Herself in This One, 2016, CreateSpace: California, p. 32.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=bPV1DQAAQBAJ)

Date: 2016

By: Amanda Lovelace (19??- )

Sunday, 2 February 2020

Money is the Thing With Feathers by Susan Firer

I wake to money, and take my money slow
I watched for money, lights turned low

One must have a mind of money . . .
Money that is not there and the money that is

The art of money isn’t hard to master
. . . The money surrounds us . . .

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet money
Money on a wet, black bough

Do not go gentle into that good money
The pure products of money go crazy

Money sweeping out from us to disappear
Oh Money! My Money! our fearful trip is done

I myself will die without money
Money, Money, you bastard, I’m through.

From: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/91760/money-is-the-thing-with-feathers

Date: 2016

By: Susan Firer (1948- )

Tuesday, 14 January 2020

Blue Tongue by Fran Graham

Day brings shadow leaf to life
Sky filters in from the road
Water splash swells on the wind
Love slides belly low, warm love
Wind brushes scale-sheen like water
Road noise echoes to the sky
Life and lizard crawl, slow day.

From: https://wapoets.com/creatrix-2/2016-2/creatrix-33-poetry/

Date: 2016

By: Fran Graham (19??- )

Wednesday, 1 January 2020

Poem for a New Year by Matt Goodfellow

Something’s moving in,
I hear the weather in the wind,
sense the tension of the sheep-field
and the pilgrimage of fins.

Something’s not the same,
I taste the sap and feel the grain,
hear the rolling of the rowan
ringing, singing in a change.

Something’s set to start,
there’s meadow-music in the dark
and the clouds that shroud the mountain
slowly, softly start to part.

From: http://poetryzone.co.uk/interviews/matt-goodfellow/

Date: 2016

By: Matt Goodfellow (19??- )