Tiayuan shots

Dragons ... dragons ... and camel with Tania Jain and daughter Sophie (13 months)

Tiayuan Trip

The following copy was lifted from http://www.chinaplanner.com/gardens/famousgardens/fam_jici.htm

The Jinci Temple is situated where the Jmshui River rushes at the foot of the Xuanweng Mountain 25 kilometers southwest of Taiyuan. It is a famous garden of ancient buildings, skirted by the mountain and the river, where ancient trees soar to unbelievable heights. It is warm in winter and cool in summer, and the buildings look elegant in a classical style.

The temple is also endowed with a rich cultural legacy. The temple was expanded during the Sui, Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties until it attained its present scale. There are more than SO halls built prior to the Qing Dynasty, occupying an area of more than 10,000 square meters. The centerpiece of the entire cluster is the Hall of the Holy Mother, enshrined with 33 painted sculptures of servant maids of the Song Dynasty. These sculptures are one of the Jinci Temple's three wonders.

The two other wonders are two trees - a cypress tree (pictured - AB)dating back to the Zhou Dynasty and a Chinese scholar tree planted in the Sui Dynasty - and a spring that keeps gurgling to this day.


The photos are all mine, and there's more to come :-) tomorrow perhaps, although I am working to catch up on classes missed during the week's holiday for National Day and the Moon Festival. No rest for teachers or students in China!

Scaring the Spirits away - Boom!

The first fireworks were actually green bamboo that were thrown into fires to scare spirits away in ancient China, called "pas chuk."

Some of the daily fireworks displays we have experienced here have actually shaken the ground. If you are anywhere near them, you have to block your ears or they could seriously damage your hearing. The Chinese celebrate with them and use them at weddings, birthdays, store openings, births - any significent event in life. Some days it gets very noisy around here, although you don't often get to see them; just hear them! - but I suppose we will miss them when we travel on. Maybe.

On the other side of the camera ...

While my camera has seized up, you can enjoy this photo of myself taken by John Jain, American English teaching here in Linfen.

coo d'etat

And now, this morning, a pigeon was cooing outside our bedroom window. Not surprising in Perth, but in Linfen where the pollution keeps birds far away, it was an extremely pleasant surprise. This was followed up by tweeting from a smaller bird – a veritable song to my ears. I missed this week’s ‘snap’ poem on Wednesday at ‘poetryetc’ so here is today’s late effort (I call it ‘coo d’etat’):


one 'coo'
and you know
the best

a holiday from
coaldust
so the birds
have come back
to visit

next
'tweet tweet'
a lovesong
to my ears

The Road Less Rattled

Linfen young mothers balance their young in front of them before the handlebars of their silent electric scooters, and Jeff tells of a family of four on one scooter: dad driving, mum facing him on the saddle, youngest holding her, and another child holding him. No helmets, but the traffic flow and confidence seems to win the day. Pedestrians, donkeys, minivans, trucks, beaten-up old taxis, shiny black sedans, and bikes – both pedal and motorised – share the roads, with pedestrians wandering the edges three or four deep at times because the footpaths are crowded with parked cars and bikes … It is so different to the rule-riddled roads of home. Linfen police do stand at the intersections at times, trying occasionally to calm and direct traffic, but they are as laid-back as the road users and only occasionally apprehend anyone walking across in the face of oncoming traffic or a donkey driver meandering across the pypoteneuse.

Young students travel two to a bike, one peddling, the other nonchalantly perched on the back, seemingly balanced by years of practice. And their balance is perfect: the cyclist may mount curbs and steer sudden corners but the passenger will happily prattle on, body swaying naturally to adjust, gymnasts without apparatus, seesawing on the fulcrum of their fundamental …

Chinese Money Laundering

hanging washing out
I try my slacks’ pockets:
bunch of keys in one pocket,
two Yuan notes in the other -

my wife has been
money laundering again

The Moon Festival

The Moon festival (also called the Mooncake or Mid-Autumn festival) falls on October 6 in the year 2006. What is the Moon festival? Every year on the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar, when the moon is at its maximum brightness for the entire year, the Chinese celebrate "zhong qiu jie."

Children are told the story of the moon fairy living in a crystal palace, who comes out to dance on the moon's shadowed surface. The legend surrounding the "lady living in the moon" dates back to ancient times, to a day when ten suns appeared at once in the sky. The Emperor ordered a famous archer to shoot down the nine extra suns. Once the task was accomplished, Goddess of Western Heaven rewarded the archer with a pill that would make him immortal. However, his wife found the pill, took it, and was banished to the moon as a result. Legend says that her beauty is greatest on the day of the Moon festival.

More information and recipes for Moon Cakes at http://chinesefood.about.com/od/mooncake/a/moonfestival.htm

Chandlerism

Chess is as elaborate a waste of human intelligence as you can find outside an advertising agency.
- Raymond Chandler

As a man with over 25 years in the ad industry, that strikes me as very funny, and sadly accurate. There are a lot of talented people making too much money in adland to use their talents for more artistic ends.

This display from Ron Silliman's always informative blog. He says this is an exhibition of photographs by Hai Bo at Max Protetch

His blog is at http://ronsilliman.blogspot.com/

Epistle Poem

Dear Yarrum, I began to write you a letter
but the door bell went and was persistent,
so I answered. A request for the baby pusher
to be handed out the window for use by mother
and baby on some errand. I can only imagine
it is to do with the beggar in the street who
her husband befriended and offered shelter
via his wife, and left the beggar in my care as
we walked home to this block of flats on
the university campus. As we walked, she lagged
behind and begged off cops and soldiers and
the guards at the uni gates. I admonished her
in my best sign language, but she lagged further
behind until turning and walking away. To be
frank, that didn’t bother me, but I (dutifully)
rang and reported in. She came
pursuing the beggar lady, presumably to
offer help. Sometimes good intentions lead
to foolish outcomes—I feel it today in
my arthritic bones, but who can advise against
helping your fellow man? Here I sit, listening
to Dylan unplugged—Once upon a time you
dressed so fine … thinking of the ebb and flow
of manna in my time, a rolling stone tempo-
rarily washed-up on these Chinese shores.
The beggars of this town all have the same
enamel large-size cup. They won’t let you pass
and grab at your clothes until you want to
flatten them, but a portion of good manners
and Western guilt withholds your hand. We cover
costs here, there’s nothing fancy in our lifestyle,
this week we work six days to cover the official
holiday next week. Yesterday my stepdaughter
fed the beggar lady noodles at her table in
a restaurant and offered her a job as cook.
Today she was to arrive for an interview
with the two housemaids, but didn’t show.
Instead, she was back on the street
begging, grabbing at the hand that would
feed her … There’s a million books in
a thousand languages attempting to
solve the puzzle of human existence, but
who’s to know. In Bali, they wear
black and white checks for the balance
and wrap this cloth about divine idols
who one could imagine may know better.
Yours in eternal puzzlement - Werdna

Getting ready for October Festival

Diary update ...

Some days I wonder what I’m taking for granted, what sights of China I am leaving out of this because I see them everyday: the straight-backed ladies who ride their bikes with a charming air; the green-uniformed guides standing on a rise at the gates who nod ‘hello’ if I wave to them; the dusty dinted battered old cars that serve as taxis; the noodle makers who throw their dough in the air and twirl it around into over six foot lengths; the scrawny sad cats and dirty miniature dogs in the grubby back alleys, often tied to a post with a dried-out plastic lid for water. And the way the shopkeepers sit in their stores or on the pavement outside or on chipped concrete steps, eating noodles and watching the Chinese world go by. Yesterday when I went to pick up some more photos (every bloody document needs photos here) the girl from behind the counter was asleep on a couch. She grumpily arose and served me. Nothing unusual in that: the whole town closes down between noon and half-past two. It’s the best time to go shopping – no-one else around almost.

Man Bites Panda!

An inebriated man in a Chinese zoo went into the cage to hug a panda bear, but the bear bit his leg and held him-so the man tried to bite him! The fur was too thick, so a keeper turned the hose on the panda and saved him. But the photo is beautiful, isn't it.

Dante's Inferno

http://web.eku.edu/flash/inferno/

Linfen news from Reuters

One of the world's oldest observatories has been uncovered by archaeologists near the city of Linfen in Shanxi province in northern China.

They estimate the remains, in the Taosi relics site, are about 4,100 years old. That would make the Linfen observatory some 3,000 years older than the Mayan observatory uncovered in Central America, which in turn is older than the astronomical observatory built by Ulug'bek in Samarkand in 1428.

What's been found of the observatory is a 130-ft.-diameter semicircular platform made of rammed earth and surrounded by 13 stone pillars within a 200-ft. outer circle. The observatory may have been used to mark the movement of the Sun through Earth's seasons.

Rammed earth was a construction technique in which a mixture of soil and water were molded in forms. The forms then were removed, leaving solid earthen walls up to two feet thick.

The 13 pillars, each at least 13 feet tall, formed 12 gaps between them. Ancient astronomers observed the direction of sunrise through the gaps.

They also were able to distinguish the seasons of the year. The site may have been used to observe stars and the Moon.

From the observatory, ancient Chinese astronomers may have made some of the earliest recorded observations of stars in their night skies. The site also may have been used for sacrificial rites, according to the official Xinhua News Agency.

Chinese archaeologists in 2004-2005 spent 18 months simulating ancient uses of the site to validate their theories about it. They found the seasons they calculated were only one or two days different from the traditional Chinese calendar, which is still widely used today.

Astronomical observation and the making of calendars is regarded as one of the symbols of the origin of civilization. A historical document says that China had special officials in charge of astronomical observation as early as the 24th century BC. The discovery of the ancient observatory in Taosi confirmed the records.

The Taosi relics site, dated back to 4,300 years ago, is located in Xiangfen County, Linfen City of Shanxi Province, and covers an area of 3 million square meters. It is believed to be a settlement of the period of the five legendary rulers (2,600 BC-1,600 BC) in Chinese history.

Out and about in Linfen

From graffiti to furniture removal, from reading the zodiac to washing flapping in the breeze, among the exercise machines - everywhere and anywhere - the citizens of Linfen live out and about when they can, before the coldness of winter comes blustering in.

'Open Mouth' in Linfen

I am happy to report on a very successful literary reading, with song, in Linfen last night.

Four poets, a short story teller, two singers, an 'instant' artist, and two Chinese jokes, filled out the program which was held in the Science Building of Shanxi Normal University. Around two dozen people were present.

Performers included Jamie, 'Mrs Pablo', Rebecca, Jeff Jain, Javvad, Nick, Wong Lee, Mr Wang and myself. The compere for the evening was Shabbs, who conducted herself with aplomb. The presentations were in English and Chinese, with one item in local dialect.

Those to be thanked inlude Pat and John Jain for acquiring the venue, and supplying various edibles and coffee.

Independent of a reading back home (for me!) in Perth with the same name, the name 'Open Mouth' was chosen for the event. It is thought that it may continue as a monthly event.

If you would like more information, contact me at burkeandre at gmail dot com

Footy as Religion

This striking image, brilliantly conceived and created by AFL Record art director Sam Russell, depicts a phantom ‘Last Supper’ – of footy pies washed down by Coca-Cola and Powerade – attended by the captains of this year’s finalists.

From left to right are Bulldog Brad Johnson, Saint Luke Ball, Eagle Chris Judd, Swan Barry Hall, Crow Mark Ricciuto, Magpie Nathan Buckley, Demon David Neitz and Docker Peter Bell. Fittingly, Hall shares centre stage with the prized cup he and his mentor, Paul Roos, held aloft last year, while his envious counterparts – of whom, only Ricciuto and Bell have previously had their hands on the silverware – attempt to glean from Hall the wisdom and knowledge required to win it all.

AFL Grand Final pushes Poetry Event aside

Amongst the news from Perth of poetry activities sat this little gem:

The Roving Poets and Minstrels Picnic has been cancelled due to clashing with the AFL Grand Final. We will let you know if it’s re-scheduled.


What! Amazing! Not many of the poets of my vintage and older were ever interested in football - but I suppose they wouldn't get a good turn out on such a day, especially if one of our local teams is in the Grand Final. The Fremantle Dockers won a preliminary final last night, and the West Coast Eagles play this evening. There is even a chance of it being an Eagles/Dockers Grand Final ...

Sweeping changes in China

Outside our window, one day the sweepers came, using their traditional brooms of dried bush, swishing away the leaves but just stirring-up the powdery dust of sunny but polluted days. After a month it is the first time I have seen the sweepers here in our courtyard. May they return by winter ...

Wham! BAM! Thank you, son.

Instead of working on getting his father's writings out to the world through the Internet, my eldest son, Miles, has been revising his company's website. Oh, well, I suppose he has to make a living. Here is the new site: you're welcome to have a look. http://www.bam.com.au

Quote of the Day - worth sharing, I thought!

We should be taught not to wait for inspiration to start a thing. Action always generates inspiration. Inspiration seldom generates action.

- Frank Tibolt

Peter's Link wouldn't show, so ...

Misused Intelligence by Peter Ciccariello

My email friend Peter Ciccariello is a master artist with the computer and various programs. See for yourself with Misused Intelligence

The Old and the New

They are building big new lecture buildings and campus accommodation, but in the meantime classic Chinese scenes are disappearing. The old and the new were never more on display today than with a young music student playing saxophone runs among the trees next to an old pagoda, with an old man fishing in the polluted waters of this local waterway. Climb a tall bank of stairs beside the water and you see the facade of a once-beautiful old building, now weed-filled, with its forecourt used as a place to hang out washing. Next to this old facade, a weather-beaten man lives in a humpy lean-to affair built of old rubble and plywood and tin sheets. I look into these old eyes of China and wonder what they have seen - what does he make of today's world after the incredible sweeping changes of China's modern political and social history. But where are the young going - with their love of USAmerican culture and commerce, and the effects of globalisation yet to be felt on China's economy. As Mort Sahl so rightly said, The Future lies ahead ... And I can't see back and I can't see forward for them or with them. I am simply full of questions.

Thought for the Day

Where philosophy stops, poetry is impelled to begin. He was
a man, far away from home, biting his nails at destiny.

Susan Howe

Thank you, Doug Barbour, for quoting this.

Everyday shots on Shanxi NU Campus

Ah, beautiful pines are around the campus and remind me of old calligraphy-type scrolls I have seen. And by the roadside in Linfen I have seen many bicycle mechanics, and bicyclists mending their punctures and chains, etc, but this is the first umbrella mechanic I've seen. Everyone stands about giving him advice and watching him work. They sell fruit and vegies wherever there's a space. Like here, inside the uni before the west gate, beside old living quarters.

Notebook Poems

Teaching now
Rows of blank faces
I can’t read
Staring at me
Who they can’t read.

A Shakespeare sonnet,
A Bob Dylan song,
A Van Morrison complaint –
A quote about communication
From Seneca. Am I
Playing with irony
Unwittingly?

Chalk dust in my throat
Coaldust in my eyes
Hot chillies in my mouth
The lanes full of
Stick brooms and steaming vats
And fish who jump
From their troughs …
Every step a surprise,
Each sense assaulted.

I teach them to say G’Day –
Something Australian
To combat the USA influence.
Eling has taught himself English
By watching American movies.
Denver named himself after
John, surprised it’s a town.
Here we are in China
Bamboo Curtain down
But still ghostly felt.

Girls give themselves
English names of
Abstract ambition –
Harmony, Enjoy,
Even my favourite –
Sugarfree 

5/09/2006

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down your plastic bucket …

Next door,
Three floors up
And kind-hearted,
My American mates
Have devised a pulley system:
They feed a tough string line
Out their balcony window
And lower a bucket.
Last night it was
Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell;
The night before
Two candles and lighters,
A torch because
The power had gone out;
The night before the night before
A block of Mainland cheese,
Gold in these parts.
No need for electrickery:
Just drop down
And haul up.

Necessity gives birth again.


6/09/2006

Flying Pigeon,
Forever Gold …
Racehorses? No –
Bicycles in China,
Made of low quality
Chinese steel so
Pretty soon they rust
But scoot through
The frenetic traffic
Well enough.
There’s one called
Alice, another Sally.

By the roadside
Bike mechanics
Work among
Small ballbearings,
Broken spokes,
Bent forks and
Punctured tubes.
It reminds me
Of my youth
As they check the valve
In a basin of water
And rasp the tube’s
Surface to patch it.
We had a clamp and
Some kind of burning system
On our back verandah.
Here they work
On the ragged stone pavement,
Among spilt noodles
And cigarette butts.
One old spark plug
From a motor scooter
Lies on the pavement,
And a young boy,
Opportunist at five,
Picks it up and scurries away.
Maybe Dad will be pleased.

Here on the corner
Where we walk
A three-wheeler
With metal flat-bed on the back
Is turned upside down.
They operate on its axle,
Sticking things together again.
It’s Humpty Dumpty
Engineering, and he’s ready to go
In ten minutes or so –
But just now
He sells melons to
Passers-by.
If it’s daylight
It’s business hours
For the poor
Melon sellers
Of Linfen.

6/09/2006

Shutterbug exhibition

You are invited to attend the launch of
surface to air
Friday 16th September at 6pm,
Free Range Gallery,
Hay Street, Subiaco.

Images on Campus

Shanxi Normal University has wonderful cultural contrasts and images on its campus. One tree-lined avenue is called Paragon Road which leads down to Bachelor Road: bachelors I know but their aren't too many 'paragons' around :-)
A row of majestic sculptures stand each side of a short walkway into the main teaching building - Darwin, Newton, Galileo and others (I'll check their names and report later) - but my personal favourite scultpture is this wonderful image of Einstein. Such character! The others all look posed, but this one is active.

Three Sonnets

I don't know why it is but thoughts of the past and home always come to me in stark relief when I travel away. In this instance, the theme of water connected dry Toodyay where a friend and I existed on rainwater for awhile to Perth where water restrictions are now year-round and Linfen which is having an unusually wet time of it lately, and which simply gets muddier and messier with the rain. Why the sonnet form - possibly because it was a consciously planned project from the start, and also because Tom Shapcott has used the form with such success in writing of the five senses and his hands, etc.

Here are the poems, still in draft form:

Late Summer, Outside Toodyay
(Western Australia)

He walks down their block to dump the litter.
White quartz glistens in the sunshine
Like luxurious jewellery strewn among
Dry sticks and curling leaves. Black bush ants
Climb in raggedy line, driven by desire.
He pisses on a struggling eucalypt, thinking,
My body of water is the most moisture
From here to the Kalgoorlie pipeline.

Before the rain arrives—‘If it bloody comes,’
As she says—he climbed the ladder to clean out
The gutters where the rain will flow
To fill the water-tank which today echoes.
In late summer, they shower with buckets
Beneath them to save water for the carrots.

26/08/2006



Water Restrictions, Suburban Perth
(Western Australia)

He puts The West inside, comes outside and uncoils
the hose. It’s not their day to use the retic.
6.30 and already it’s a scorcher. First, he waters
The roses. She loves the roses and he smiles
At twin buds atop the pink one. Then,
The grass. All the way to the curb because
They claim the verge as part of their lawn.
More water, though, and more mowing.
The grass struggles in patches and he waters them
Extra. That bloke behind often misses
the drive and flattens it to death. Bastard.
He’s off in his dream-world again when he
Hears his name and sees her at the door.
She raises her nightie slowly and smiles.

26/08/2006




More Rain Today
Late Summer, Linfen

More rain today than fell last year. Pollution
coats the buildings as rain falls perpendicular.
Linfen’s drainage system overflows
and baby-faced police huddle in muddy vans
but the townsfolk welcome the wash:
a little soap in the alleys’ armpits,
sunny deodorant with dawn perhaps.
Inside, street vendors huddle, stretching
yesterday’s Yuans like old inner tube.
The gatekeeper pulls a grey sheet over
his knobbly knees on his roadside cot.
Beyond Linfen city, farmers wave as
roads run with mud and crops drink deep.
Tomorrow shines like sunflowers in their eyes.


28/8/2006 & 30/8/2006

Jill Jones Translation blog

Sitting here in China, I'm contemplating some 'translations' with the help of an American young bloke who is studying Mandarin here. In my quest for some grounding, some starting point, I found Jill Jones was already doing much the same thing at http://itudes.blogspot.com/

Take a look. And wish me luck :-)

Wanted: Women Visual Poets

I post this on from Sheila Murphy:

Good morning, all! K.S. (Kathy) Ernst and I have conferred about upcoming projects regarding the presentation of female visual poets. We are looking to build a database of contact information for women on several continents, so that we may look at what is possible relative to exhibitions (likely, a traveling exhibition initially) and books that would go with same.

Specific calls for work will follow, but for now we want to accumulate a "who's who" compendium.

I would appreciate your circulating widely a call for the following information and sending the information to me backchannel at:

sheila dot murphy at gmail dot com

We mainly want:

Name
Mailing Address
Email Address

Any further information about media in which the visual poet works, great, too.

If everyone can respond with known individuals, including yourselves, it will be appreciated.

The goal is to obtain as comprehensive a list of (1) living women visual poets who have done visual poetry in the latter half of hte 20th Century and (2) women who are actively working in visual poetry now. Definition of visual poetry is deliberately open.

Thanks! Sheila Murphy

Chinese Folk Music

Apropos of absolutely nothing, I was watching CCNTV9, the English channel on Chinese television, this morning over breakfast. They had a delightful cultural program on, showcasing folk music from various minority groups. A charming young girl, in small pigtails and what I took to be a school uniform, sang a lyrical tune, and the English translation appeared at screen's base:

See the bright moon
shining on Grandpa's manure basket

Everyday has its little joys, and that was one of mine.

'Death on All Fronts' Anthology

from Big Bridge & Halvard Johnson of the NewPoetry list:

“Friends and neighbors--
“For a mini-anthology of poems inspired by/responding to/related to Allen Ginsberg’s poem ‘Death on All Fronts’ and/or the various wars/insurgencies/etc. going on in the world today, please send 1-6 poems to me at halvard@earthlink.net with the words ‘Big Bridge’ followed by your own name in the subject line. Unidentified submissions may be lost or discarded--advertently or inadvertently. The poems submitted may be either previously published or unpublished and brand-new. We cannot, though, seek or pay for reprint permissions from publishers. This mini-anthology (approximately 30 poems) will appear in the January issue of Big Bridge, and submissions of work will be accepted until the end of November.”

DEATH ON ALL FRONTS

“The Planet is Finished”
A new moon looks down on our sick sweet planet
Orion’s chased the Immovable Bear halfway across the sky
from winter to winter. I wake, earlier in bed, fly corpses
cover gas lit sheets, my head aches, left temple
brain fibre throbbing for Death I created on all Fronts.
Poisoned rats in the Chickenhouse and myriad lice
Sprayed with white arsenics filtering to the brook, City Cockroaches
stomped on Country kitchen floors. No babies for me.
Cut earth boy & girl hordes by half & breathe free
say Revolutionary expert Computers:
Half the blue globe’s germ population’s more than enough
keep the cloudy lung from stinking pneumonia.
I called in the Exterminator Who soaked the Wall floor
with bed-bug death-oil. Who’ll soak my brain with death-oil?
I wake before dawn dreading my wooden possessions,
my gnostic books, my loud mouth, old loves silent, charms
turned to image money, my body sexless fat, Father dying,
Earth Cities poisoned at war, my art hopeless --
Mind fragmented--and still abstract--Pain in
left temple living death


-- Sept. 26, 1969

--Allen Ginsberg
(from The Fall of America: poems of these states, 1965-1971,
[San Francisco: City Lights, 1972])

Free Poetry eBooks

Some goodies here, including one of my favourites - Spike Milligan.

http://www.poemhunter.com/eBooks/

Bad Boys make Good Copy

When poets fall out, in our times, only lawyers could profit. And maybe publishers ... Go see the reaction of one Queensland academic to John Kinsella's latest prose book at http://www.smh.com.au/news/book-reviews/fast-loose-beginnings-a-memoir-of-intoxications/2006/08/21/1156012451866.html

Lunchtime Recital in Linfen

today
bill evans
plays angular chords
to a background
of fireworks

years after death
ruined
his knuckles and sent
his bones
to chalk

no matter -
all matter
‘all things must pass’
his hammers
still lyric

Notes from a Diary

When I posted the haiku the other day, it was the result of this entry in my continuing diary. I'll post more as I can, conditions permitting:

6.30am. The overture to daylife in Linfen is played with household hammers on major building projects. Cicadas sing gently in madrigal phrases. The irregular rhythm of the builders’ hammers gradually joins the first honking vehicles of the morning, various toots on a full range of flutes. The street vendors put out their vegetables and fruits and squat beside. A few have weighing machines for basic conversion of goods to cash. There seems no hurry here, no anger, no overt competition, no conflict between the workers and the bosses. The town grows daily, and the shops change hands overnight. One man is gone from the streetscape. I heard tell that he wrote an anti-government message in his shop window and was not there the next day. A new shop has opened there now, selling fashion for young ladies.
By 8am the town is a bustle, going about its business. A pale grey smog hangs in the air which a light morning breeze seems incapable of shifting. Three mature citizens sweep away the remnants of last night’s fireworks with straw brooms. They dye the gutter waters pink.

haiku

at night, fireworks.
at dawn, torn red paper shells
dye the gutters pink.

Fireworks Night

It’s another cause for celebration:
The surrender of the Japanese
At the end of World War II.

Fireworks light the sky above Linfen
And Chinese singers sing proudly
Amplified down Gulou Road East.

It’s as bright as a battlefield, loud as a war.
The old people can’t hear a thing
And are in bed early.

Linfen, Shanxi Province - City of contrasts

Shanxi Normal University

'Normal' in this context simply means it was once a teachers' college. This building is where I shall be teaching ... Semester starts in September.

Linfen flat

Beijing Gallery

Here is an address to see some pics of my time so far in Beijing - not all are interesting to everybody, but hopefully some will be interesting to some.

Copy and paste this link: http://www.kodakgallery.com.au/pickup.jsp?PID=b1061c9721eedbd2e581bab)

Robert Hass Article

Just something to keep you entertained from Robert Hass, a great American poet.

'One of the poets central to the history of lyric poetry in the European tradition is Quintus Horatius Flaccus, whom we know as Horace. He was born when Rome was emerging as a world power. He fought, as a young man in those turbulent years, in the wars that followed the assassination of Julius Caesar, and wrote most of his poems in the age of Augustus.

With Catullus and Virgil and Ovid, he's one of the four great lyric poets of ancient Rome. For English poets from Shakespeare's time to the end of the 19th century, he was the man. Horace spent most of his life in retirement on a modest farm in the country outside Rome. He wrote immensely civilized, poised, exquisitely polished, and apparently casual poems about the countryside and the Roman seasons, about not living in the Augustan equivalents of the corridors of power and the feeding frenzies of the media and the fevers of the deal. His values were the gentleman farmer's ideals. Balance was what he admired, independence, privacy, friendship, a sensible prosperity, good wine, the fruits of the season.

These are reasons to read him, but the deepest reason is pleasure.'

Read the rest at http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/g_l/haas/poetschoice.htm

In Beiijing

Hot and humid, but exciting ... The traffic is crazier than at home, but I'll just have to get used to that - as a pedestrian even. Trying to sort through money, phones, transport, etc. - New country, new processes.

Susiedriving this morning spoke of the 'language of driving' - the car in front is communicating one thing while we are communicating another thing to the vehicle behind us. Etcetera. Just like a paragraph where sentence is constructed on clauses and phrases, punctauted by stops and starts ... We drive with Burroughs cut-up method in Beiijing :-)

Next week, Linfen.

Lee Marvin Readings in Adelaide

Readers & writers: the August readings!


THE
LEE MARVIN READINGS

Mondays: at Gallery de la Catessen

9 Anster St., Adelaide
(off Waymouth at the King William end, near FAD nightclub)

7.30 for 8 PM start

Price $5


6th Reading August 7th
o LEE MARVIN IN A LONELY PLACE

Cath Kenneally
ADEEB KAMAL AD-DEEN Iraq
Rachel Manning
Kate Deller-Evans
Ros Prosser

# # #

7th Reading August 14
o LEE MARVIN IN A MELLOW MOOD

Stephen Lawrence
Jason Sweeney
RACHEL HENNESSY
CAROL LEFEVRE
Linda Marie Walker


# # #

8th Reading August 21
o LEE MARVIN IN A GADDADAVIDA

Moya Costello
Simon Robb
Gail Walker
STEPHEN WHITTINGTON:
John Cage's Overpopulation & Art (1992)
KEN BOLTON: THE CIRCUS


# # #

9th Reading August 28
o LEE MARVIN IN A PURPLE HAZE

RAY LIVERSIDGE (Vic)
Pru La Motte
Cath Kenneally
Francesca Da Rimini
KEN BOLTON: THE CIRCUS

Dress to Express

Great range of t-shirts with literary and other heroes at http://www.reckonwordwide.com/litart.html

Choosing is the hard part.

Chinese silence?

I am in shock. On Wednesday I leave to spend a year in the Peoples Republic of China - I look forwared to it in nearly all respects, except that I hear you can't broadcast a blog from there! I hope this is not so - after all, they now have Google access there, so why block blogs?

I hope it is not so when I get there, but if it is, then I shall be silent here for a year - with a possible month of communications in January for my holidays from teaching when I shall travel.

Standby for more information in coming days.

A Quotable Quote

"The best way to find out about poetry, is to read the poem."
Louis Zukovsky

'The Paris Review' newsletter

THE PARIS REVIEW is pleased to announce that their summer issue, no. 177, is available now—and it's creating quite a stir. You'll see why when you check out what's inside:



* An encounter with a Serbian hit man
* A dispatch from Uganda's front lines
* Peter Carey on the dangers and pleasure of writing novels
* James Tate on finding the ultimate in poetry
* Woody Guthrie’s Coney Island sketchbooks
* Photographic flotsam from New Orleans
* New fiction by Rose Tremain and Daniel Kehlmann
* New poems by Chris Forhan, Debora Greger, and James Tate


Read James Tate on the art of poetry: “The thing that was magic about it was that once you put down one word, you could cross it out. . . . I put down mountain, then I'd go, no—valley. That's better.”

Visit www.theparisreview.org

Word of the Day

Dictonary.com 'Word of the Day' is a great little (free) service. If you don't already get a Word each day, sign up now.

SUBSCRIBING:
Send a blank message to:
join-wordoftheday@lists.lexico.com

Poetry Podcasting

Hear ye! Hear ye! Well, I haven't myself, but thought you may like to: http://www.poetrypodcasting.org/

Black Stockings

They say memory is triggered by smell
but just now Rod Stewart sang
The Way You Look Tonight

and I remember how Kay looked
after school in her college uniform
pleated skirt and white blouse

jiving to a new Elvis 45rpm
after practicing The Way You Look
on her mother’s fine piano

black-stockinged legs still
high-kicking in my pulse,
sexagenarian on heat

'Tinfish' & blue swayed shoes

http://www.tinfishpress.com/

Tinfish always has interesting content (I haven't seen them all, but the ones I've seen) but the philosophy behind the covers is a constant delight to me. They are done by a group of artists in Hawaii and are made from recycled items - cereal boxes, tarpaper, maps, etc. Each one is a work of art in itself.

They always remind me of an occasion when I was being a pretentious producer of a 'young poets' reading' for the Festival of Perth many decades ago. I suggested they (the y'poets) bring something that influenced them to our next rehearsal - meaning a text by another poet. Greg Osborn, very young at the time but wittier than old-man Andrew, brought along the Coco-Pops packet he had eaten breakfast from that morning :-)

Greg died in a carcrash down south aged forty. A great waste. In memoriam I post a poem by Greg, first published in Sandgropers, published 1973, edited by Dorothy Hewett.

blue swayed shoes

stoned to de bones
got no blues
stoned to de bones
got no blues
got no blues
got no shoes

got a smilin head
that can amuse
me n you
if we move
me n you in a trippin groove
buzzin here
buzzin dere
buzzin into de crazy air
tryn to fuse
tryn to fuse
wid a pair
o blue swayed shoes

stoned to de bones
got no blues
stoned to de bones
got some shoes

cos i
found some dere
up in de air
in de blue hue dere
a pair
a pair
a freakin pair
o dem blue swayed shoes

an i
thenk y sky
for bein dere
up in de air
when i was dere
an when i wasn't


Greg Osborn

haiku

swollen with child
she holds hard the sapling
held hard by its roots

The Great Egret

I must get a camera with a proper zoom on it! We have a beautiful neighbour, the Great Egret, who poses quietly but a long way off. Again, as with the Sacred Ibis, I have to go to another site to show you a photo. http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Great_Egret.html

'The Times They Are A-Changin' Musical

THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN' - a new Broadway musical
conceived, directed and choreographed by Tharp and
set to the music and lyrics of Dylan.

NOW THROUGH JULY 29TH, GET TICKETS BEFORE THE GENERAL PUBLIC WHEN YOU BUY WITH YOUR AMERICAN EXPRESS CARD.

Call 212-307-4100 or visit ticketmaster.com.

Previews begin September 25th on Broadway.

'The bird with the burned arse'

Threskiornis aethiopica, commonly known as 'the Sacred Ibis' are seen in our neighbourhood wetlands as we walk morning or evening near our home in Bassendean, a suburb of Perth in Western Australia. They are also known as inh adn alhungand in Olkola, which means "the bird with the burned ass" because of the black feathers in its tail. I couldn't get close enough to get a decent shot, so I shall borrow one from http://www.geocities.com/athens/delphi/2970/ibis.htm

Homage to McManus

(for Patrick, suggested by Roger)

gmail's made
his poems
thin again
that were
once so
ramblin' fat
now he
notices
the cat
at her snore-
gas-bored
as he
holds hands
over his
mornin' cuppa
she has three
bowls to
his one
oh the
power of love

and now
the post
before
toast -
how strange
the modern
whirled

Writers Rates

It's always a difficult thing when some organisation - often strapped for cash - asks a writer how much for a visit or a workshop or editing or somesuch task. Poets especially are too often taken for granted and asked to appear for very low fees or to publish a poem in an anthology or in a small circulation magazine for nothing or very little.

The Australian Society of Authors is a very professional organisation which helps published authors and those working to be published. They have posted their suggested list of chrages and fees for such functions at http://www.asauthors.org/scripts/cgiip.exe/WService=ASP0016/ccms.r?PageID=6054

Thank you, ASA.

Juniper Exhibition @ Gomboc Gallery

FLOOD CREEK
Mixed media
on Belgian linen
122 x 122 cm






Birdsong -
a new exhibition by
ROBERT JUNIPER
at Gomboc Gallery
50 James Road, MIDDLE SWAN
Telephone: + 61 8 9274 3996
Facsimile: +61 8 9274 2665
rm@gomboc-gallery.com.au

Gallery Hours: Wednesday to Sunday
10.00am to 5.00pm

See great examples from the exhibition at http://www.gomboc-gallery.com.au/exhibitions/current_exhibition.htm

Happy Birthday, Marcel Proust!

'Love is space and time measured by the heart'. Marcel Proust - born July 10th 1871.

More information at http://www.library.uiuc.edu/kolbp/proust.html

Just back from the dentist ...

Calling for Essays on 'Poets and Philosophers'

This is a last-minute call for essays for a feature tentatively titled
"Poets and Philosophers" which will appear in Fulcrum 5.

The issue is almost ready to go to press, which means we would need to
see the work near-immediately.

Please query by email first if you have something you think may fit.

Best,

Philip Nikolayev & Katia Kapovich, eds.
FULCRUM: AN ANNUAL OF
POETRY AND AESTHETICS
334 Harvard Street, Suite D-2
Cambridge, MA 02139, USA
phone 617-864-7874
e-mail editor@fulcrumpoetry.com

Anna Akhmatova - on stage!

Prickly Pear Ensemble

presents


THE SHIPS PASS QUIETLY

by John Aitken

A powerful play about a great poet struggling against censorship and oppression,

The Ships Pass Quietly presents the life of Anna Akhmatova as well as her work against a backdrop of music by Dmitri Shostakovich
and the atmosphere of old Leningrad.

Image by Crispin Chan

Condemned as “half nun, half harlot” by Russian revolutionaries, the turbulent life of the celebrated poet Anna Akhmatova comes under scrutiny in Western Australian playwright, John Aitken’s new play, The Ships Pass Quietly presented at The Blue Room from July 19.

Akhmatova was one of the greatest Russian lyric poets of the Twentieth Century, but after the revolution she fell out of favour. Her husband was shot and later her son was imprisoned to secure her silence. Her poetry was seen as so subversive that friends would have to memorise her words in the dead of night. Then Akhmatova would burn the evidence.

The Ships Pass Quietly presents the life of Anna Akhmatova as well as her work, against the backdrop of old Leningrad, two world wars and the music of her friend, Dimitri Shostakovich, whose 100th anniversary is celebrated this year. An interesting historical footnote suggests that the world of music owes a great debt to Akhmatova who during the Second World War smuggled the manuscript of Shostakovich’s great 7th Symphony (the Leningrad) in her suitcase.

Performed by Vivienne Glance as Anna Akhmatova,
with Irene Jarzabek, Craig Fong and Ethan Tomas.

Directed by John Aitken.

Preview – Wed 19th July – tickets: $10
Opening Night – Thurs 20th July – then Tues to Sat until August 5thAll performances at 8.00 pm

Tickets - $20 / $15 concessions
Cheap Tuesdays – all tickets $10

Bookings: 9227 7005 or www.pacs.org.au
The Blue Room Theatre
53 James Street, Northbridge.