Three Poems - by Coral Carter

after the slam

someone ordered a bloody maria
someone didn’t want to be there
someone claimed to be smashed
someone couldn’t really tell
someone’s light brought the moths
someone’s voice was a bell
someone was talking nonsense
someone was capable of anything
someone fell through glass
someone was skewered with shards
someone’s sex drive was in overdrive
someone didn’t know the way home
someone was a honeypot
someone was over the Moon
someone was wrangling the bees
someone kissed someone
someone did somebody else
someone wanted to have group sex
someone danced with someone
someone was nobodies boy
someone rejected their fan base
someone passed someone a joint
someone forgot about everything
someone had nothing to tell
someone was guilty as charged
and someone was visiting hell.

Real Question of a Three Day Hangover

My hangover was in its third day and I can't cook
the longest hangover in history grumps son
as he knives chicken breasts
into the tiny pieces he loves
not careless chunks I cut
after relentless years of sating daily hunger
my brain stops on my three day hangover
number one daughter drives me to shop
new to town she forgets the way and so do I
why am I doing all the things
my mother told me not to?
I ask as I wave goodbye
in my socks in the rain.

on the third day of my hangover
words are dead rats from my mouth
long distance daughter scolds
she should be the one going to pub poetry
being deafened by boy bands

The band members
milk fed virgins
soft in obscure message T shirts
and jeans ironed by mum
their equipment unscathed
straight from dad’s well swept garage.

The real question is:
Where are the slim hipped
working class boys
lean as pack wolves
willing to share
at the back of the pub
bulges which strained
in their grease stained jeans
with whoever dared?

The Red and Gold Wedding Sheets

Through the thickness of night
we sleep side by side
in the red and gold wedding sheets from China.

When we bought them our interpreter, Tian, whose name means sky, told me about red. The luckiest of colours means fertility, happiness, harmony. I know it is for sex, war, blood. Red is for sex. I said. She stopped surprised eyed as if she had never heard of such a thing and flushed red.

When we were at the museum, Tian, whose name means sky, told us the Chinese were more highly evolved as they had less hair and were therefore less apelike. We told her that all races have a common ancestor. Hair was a response to environment. She stopped surprised eyed as if she had never heard of such a thing and flushed red.

When we were at the temple of the wild goose I began to chant ohm mani pad ma hum. How you know this, Tian, whose name means sky demanded. After she interpreted the story of a wild goose falling dead from the sky to indicate the spot where the temple was to be erected. She mused: How can this be true? Maybe it isn’t. I replied. She stopped surprised eyed as if she had never heard of such a thing and flushed red.

In our red and gold wedding sheets from China
we are lucky happy harmonious
until we are savage with sex and war and blood.

Coral Carter
Born in Kalgoorlie, Western Australia, became a nomad but seems settled in Bayswater, Western Australia for now. Barely published. Brought up on Banjo now loves Bukowski. Reads most weeks at the Perth Poetry Club.

Quote of the Day - from Carl Jung

'A man once dipped a hatful of water from a stream. What did that amount to? I am not that stream. I am at the stream, but I do nothing. Other people are at the same stream, but most of them find they have to do something with it. I do nothing. I never think that I am the one who must see to it that cherries grow on stalks. I stand and behold, admiring what nature can do.'

'Retrospect' by Carl Jung

Some scenes from Andrew's Autobiography (first drafts all)

The opening scene is an Australian soldier, 1943, in the thick and steamy jungles of New Guinea, in a clearing, in a jeep with two fuzzy-wuzzies, as he called them, with him. You can’t see it in this photo but he is wearing long shorts. You can see an open army fatigue shirt, a rifle slung slantwise over his shoulder, a .303 most probably, maybe – although it isn’t likely – the rifle I learnt to shoot on later in college-boy army cadets, wearing old uniforms from World War II, parading after school in the playground of a leafy college. It is different shooting at targets in peacetime in a firing range by the Indian Ocean to firing at Japanese soldiers in wartime in a New Guinea jungle.

I stared at the photo in our sunroom by the river. I stared and tried to imagine my father dodging bullets, firing bullets, in the thick humid air, the lush growth beneath steamy skies. I stared like I stared earlier at breakfast at King Willy Weetie holding up a box of his own cereal with his image on it holding up a box of his cereal with his own image on it, again and again, ad infinitum. I tried to count how many images I could see of King Willy, how many images echoed back to the Beginning. Who knew?. Maybe the printer who made the box. I stared at my father with two natives in the jungle in the same way, mesmerized, unable to puzzle out how all the other images of father came to this one in my hand on a pillow in our sunroom by the Swan River. I came from one of these images of my father. Maybe before, maybe after this photo, he left the jeep and waved to his native friends and crawled into bed with my mother way over on the east coast of Australia, in a suburb where the war was headline material and the ladies knitted for the boys ‘over there’. I wriggled loose from that soldier in his fatigues and swam harder than I have ever been able to swim again, swam that night or day in the mysteries of my mother’s body to an egg that, like a Siren, called for me, and we embraced.

-

I pulled into the parking area behind the church hall so no one would see me. You can’t be too careful, can you. This night could make or break me, and I was nervous. You wouldn’t have known it. I present well: all you will see is the mask over the mask before the mask. Underneath them all must be me, insecure, overweight, depressed. Suck in the night air, smelling of eucalypts and parking lot dust. White Ford Cortina Ghia or green Holden Kingswood station wagon? I can’t remember and it matters not one iota. But life is made up of little things, isn’t it. From little things, big things grow, Paul Kelly sings. Just split an atom and see.

I walked around the old weatherboard hall and up a few steps. Inside the hall the lights were on and a man waited at the door to greet all comers.

.

I am no one special. A writer, yes, and once upon a time I thought that made me special. An Australian, a male, a chatterbox – none of these characteristics are particularly special. So, why am I writing this autobiography? Well, some people close to me have asked for it, but truly it is for a different reason: to stick to the truth. There are variations, let’s call them, of certain events in my life, variations I have created and spoken so often I myself believe them. His Bobship once sang, He not busy being born is busy dying. Here I am adding to my birth, attempting to find the true Andrew, or even that person I am before I am named by my parents. We don’t come into this world with a name, do we – just a gender and a string of inclinations and inherited characteristics.

.

Today I chewed a fingernail off. Today I pulled a hair out of the top curve of my ear. Today my body, this house of who I am, is growing, is changing, is throwing a shadow, is taking it back again, is pulsing and rhythmic. Today this body is a link in the chain that is me. I’m surprised I am not a papier mache sculpture, all the pages I have read and written glued together layer over layer, waste bins full of over-valued thoughts, searching soul inventories, shopping lists of the heart and poems of the ego. Today I am sixty five, titular proprietor of this body corporate, and writing this.

Old Singer Sewing Machine - by Max Richards

This snap of an old black one is handsome,
but Mother's was prettier, with flowers -

my hands touched her feet working the treadle
driving the big lower wheel turning

with its loop, a thin strip of leather,
sending its turning up to the small wheel.

Singer, I'd say to myself, while the musical
hum of it speeded up then slowed.

The shiny flat rectangle the needle entered,
that slid open and shut - under it

the tiny shiny reel of cotton she refilled -
her finicky threading of the needle -

my fear of its downward stroke so sharp.
Afternoons, mother's feet working the treadle.

A shadow mother at a shadow Singer
sewed shadows by the real one in the sun.

Her shadow treadle seesawed against the treadle.
Her real slippers, soft to touch, glowed gold.


Max Richards
Max Richards <cooee@netspace.net.au> was born and educated in Auckland, New Zealand, studied in Edinburgh, and from 1967 taught literature and writing for many years at La Trobe University, Melbourne. Critical articles and reviews on Hardy, Edward Carpenter, MacNeice, Larkin, Heaney; Curnow, Glover, Baxter and other NZ poets; Peter Porter, Judith Wright, Les Murray and other Australians. Like William Hart-Smith on whom he has written, he is a poet of two countries. His books are 'Under Mount Egmont and other poems', 'Catch of the Day', and a recent booklet 'Ruffey and Nearby'. He lives in Doncaster, Melbourne,and teaches creative writing at his local arts centre.

illustration from http://www.singermemories.com/singer-empire.html

'Taxidermy' by AMANDA JOY

I can hold my tongue/ and then

we make so much use of rocks
/ and then who first thought
to break them down into their
elements / when did we start to
think we are stardust

sequence of events/ and then

what can be made from a heart
without a body or vice versa

/ and then / when
I asked you to take my place
you asked if I was here to stay
I wasn’t
sure if I was forgotten or lost

Time is colourless / and then
I think I once swallowed a day
whole without thinking

/ and then these ways we avoid
fullness here I will make another
void for someone else’s ghost

a window holds a sky
a valley shapes a reservoir
a body is its organs


deep places hold water longer


Bio Notes

Amanda Joy is a poet, sculptor, installation artist and songwriter born in the Kimberley region of Western Australia. She currently lives, works and gardens in Fremantle and travels as often as she can, mostly between France and Australia.
Her poetry has been published in various journals online and in print such as Cottonmouth, Up The Staircase Literary Review, Numbat, Killpoet, Fragile Arts Quarterly, Alabaster and Mercury, Heroin Love Songs, The Toronto Quarterly, Black Listed Magazine and The Best Australian Poems 2009(ed. Robert Adamson, pub. BlackInc.).
She has a fascination with portals and conduits and every now and then she pops out a little limited edition illustrated chapbook for those who ask nicely. A tiny, yet sincere chapbook of her poetry, Not Enough To Fold was lovingly published through Verve Bath Press early this year. A more sizeable binding of her wordage is gestating.

She blogs her poetry semi regularly at her website http://www.littleglasspen.com and http://www.myspace.com/amanda_joy1970.

Keeper of a dog called Love, her heart still beats like small pink feet on red earth.

Winter Trees Cough Like Old Men

Winter trees cough like old men
about death's white nightmares
while the rain talks in Latin.
They cough about the sobbing tragic
ash, they bind valises for leaving,
they darken—and in the chill
of frost from the sun, the lungs
bristle to see coffins hidden
in the dry capes of kings.


Eugenio Montejo
translated from the Spanish by Kirk Nesset
The Paris Review
Fall 2008

Tune in to http://poems.com/ for a poem a day, and news and views of the poetry world.

2009 Spilt Ink OOTA Poetry Competition - Short List

I had the privilege recently to judge the OOTA 2009 Poetry Competition, named Split Ink. Here is the short list of finalists from which three prize winners have been selected and will be announced at a Gala Evening on Thursday, November 12th, at X-Wray Cafe, Essex Street, Fremantle.

Congratulations to the following poets -

Annamaria Weldon- Light and dark flow together
Cecily Scutt - Laboratory Class
Dick Alderson - Old Spoon
Flora Smith - Midnight House and Fifth Generation
Janice Withers - A Fat, Lying Thief
Josephine Clarke - Snake
Kevin Gillam - gliss and what the living do
Mags Webster - Prognosis
Molly Hall - Orange
Rose van Son - Dinner after the Synagogue

Writing is an Act of Faith - EB White

"There is no average reader, and to reach down toward this mythical creature is to deny that each of us is on the way up, is ascending.
"It is our belief that no writer can improve his work until he discards the dulcet notion that the reader is feeble-minded, for writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar. Ascent is at the heart of the matter."

EB White, "Calculating Machine"

After the Poetry Form Writing workshop at Tom Collins House ...

Today's workshop went well, even if it was lightly attended. We looked at sonnets from Shakespeare to Tranter, villanelles, pantoums, Dream Songs, syllabic verse, concrete (typewriter style) poetry, and wrote a healthy amount of the time. One clever lady wrote three very acceptable poems! With a little shining up they'll be blessed with printer's ink before you know it.

I continue to be amazed at how people can write in a group, complete strangers, and turn out such creative work. I'm a bit of a loner when it comes to writing. Is this a male trait, do you think?

today 1pm Poetry Form Workshop at Tom Collins House

For reasons beyond his control, Kevin Gillam can't run this workshop, as advertised. So, you have me. (So, no cello, but more bad jokes ...)

Saturday 31 October 1-5pm, I will be running a Poetry Form Workshop for the FAW(WA) at Tom Collins House. All welcome! We will be approaching the usual forms plus some exotics with examples and exercises.

$50 non-members, $40 members/unwaged/pensioners.

Tom Collins House is in the Allen Park Heritage Precinct, among the trees cnr Kirkwood and Wood Streets, Swanbourne.

STOP PRESS: Poetry Form Workshop 1-5pm Tomorrow @ Tom Collins House

For reasons beyond his control, Kevin Gillam can't run this workshop, as advertised. So, you have me. (So, no cello, but more bad jokes ...)

Saturday 31 October 1-5pm, I will be running a Poetry Form Workshop for the FAW(WA) at Tom Collins House. All welcome! We will be approaching the usual forms plus some exotics with examples and exercises.

$50 non-members, $40 members/unwaged/pensioners.

Tom Collins House is in the Allen Park Heritage Precinct, among the trees cnr Kirkwood and Wood Streets, Swanbourne.

Perth Poetry Club presents ANDREW TAYLOR Saturday 31st October

Perth Poetry Club entertains you with spoken word every Saturday.

This Saturday at The Moon Cafe, 323 William Street, Northbridge (near the corner of Newcastle Street). 2-4pm. Open mike and featured guests:

31 Oct: the illustrious and entertaining Andrew Taylor

7 Nov: the insightful words of Lily Chan + Terry Farrell

14 Nov: the poetic pleasure of Amanda Joy (venue TBA)

More info at http://www.perthpoetryclub.com.
Enquiries: perthpoetryclub@gmail.com or Janet 0406 624 578.

Thanks for this, Penny

Daily Issa

As many of you know, I receive an Issa haiku daily, from the site listed below. Today's haiku is so wonderful, I'd like to share it with you:


honeybees--
but right next door
hornets


-Issa, 1824

http://cat.xula.edu/issa/

'Larrikin Angel': a Biography of Veronica Brady by Kath Jordan

Admonisher of popes and politicians, feisty gladiator in many a social justice campaign, inspirational teacher and devout Catholic nun, Veronica Brady was an intriguing figure on the Australian scene in the latter part of the twentieth century. As well as covering her childhood, her decision to enter a religious order, her rise through the ranks of academia and her social activism, this authorised biography discusses Dr Brady’s term on the board of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, her preparation of the biography of Judith Wright and her travels in China, among many other facets of her very full life. The author has had access to private papers and has spoken to many of her subject’s acquaintances and former colleagues.

Some comments on Larrikin Angel:

A splendid tribute to an utterly splendid woman. Veronica Brady's personal combination of activism, spirituality and energetic intelligence is a model of how to be-in-the-world with both rigorous conscience and profound affirmation.
Gail Jones

Ah, Veronica Brady, my favourite Catholic, the one of whom Pope John Paul II used to ask every morning when he woke up, 'Is she dead yet?' A story worth the telling.
Phillip Adams

Veronica Brady's profound literary sensibility, as well as her vision, moral integrity and fearless truth-speaking, made her the perfect biographer of my mother, Judith Wright. Larrikin Angel gives a fine, vivid sense of Veronica’s own story and shows why she must be considered one of Australia's most precious assets.
Meredith McKinney

Veronica Brady's question ‘Do we worship Jesus or an institution?’ captures her value to the Church she served and to all of us. In an often smug and complacent society, we need Veronica Brady and her ilk to remind us to look beyond ourselves. I think Jesus would be OK with her.
Fred Chaney


Order by mail

To order Larrikin Angel by mail, please send a cheque / money order / bank draft for AUD32.95 plus AUD4.00 postage/packing for each copy to

Round House Press
PO Box 652
South Fremantle WA 6162
Australia

Please do not neglect to advise us of your address.


About Round House Press

Round House Press is a boutique publishing house located in Fremantle, Western Australia.

The press offers inexpensive editorial, design and production services to organisations and individuals to assist them with publishing projects. Contact Allan Watson to discuss your proposal.


Postal Address:
Round House Press
PO Box 652
South Fremantle WA 6162

Email
enquiries@roundhousepress.com

Telephone/Fax
+61 (0)8 9430 4964

Just released: 'Birds in Mind' by Andrew Lansdown

from Wombat Books' website at http://www.wombatbooks.com.au:

Author Andrew Lansdown is renowned for his award winning poetry. In this brand new collection of over 200 pages there are poems told through various forms, but all with a focus on nature.

On the back, Les Murray says: "Lansdown spices the world with pinches of finches."

There are many haiku and tanka within these pages, and the same accurate eye and ear is brought to bear in other forms on much minutiae of the natural world.

Here's a little poem, as many of them are, as a taster:

Street Artist

Using pompom brushes
and a pointillist technique,

a wattle tree has dabbed
a park bench with yellow.

Sheila Murphy's 'Reverse Haibun' now available

9/

Paper, wrinkled relic, all the power to hold as if absorption shapes the actual

Versatility may not equal woods. Plain speech, once collateral in form. Now tension’s practiced-seeming. In small concentration of attunement fostering an energy induction. Irises, mint, cottonwood. Enough to say the litany reverts to actuality from senses five through seven. Made something to resemble wholeness if perceived as accidental wilderness. Overcome with being filtered through a sentence.

#

Just one example from over 200 pages of Sheila Mutrphy's wonderful and exciting new collection through Chalk Editions at http://www.scribd.com/doc/21062779/Sheila-E-Murphy-Reverse-Haibun

NYT article about Jung ...

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/20/magazine/20jung-t.html?_r=1

OOTA Spilt Ink Poetry Competition 2009

I have just finished judging the OOTA (Out Of The Asylum - Fremantle Arts Centre writing group) Spilt Ink Poetry Competition - and I was truly surprised at the consistent high quality of the entries. I have judged many writing competitions over the past three decades, and am used to having an easy time sorting the wheat from the chaff - only the finalists cause real decision making in most competitions. Not this time: I was asked for ten finalists, and my second run through cut it down to 21!! To reduce it further was a test of my evaluating skills. After some hours of soul searching, I reduced it twelve. Then I concentrated on the relationship of form to content - what the poem said and how it said it. Now I have my ten. The top three are still jumping around, but I'm comfortable that I have made an informed judgement. Now, to find out who they are at the celebration (some two weeks away at least).

It has been a very satisfying experience, so thank you, Jo, Annie and others on the OOTA team, for entrusting me with this job. And the winners are ... to be announced on the night.

NSW Win Champions Trophy in style!

New South Wales 159 for 9 (Lee 48, Rampaul 3-20) beat Trinidad & Tobago 118 (Clark 3-21, Lee 2-10) by 41 runs

Brett Lee hoists David Warner in celebration, New South Wales v Trinidad & Tobago, Champions League Twenty20 final, Hyderabad, October 23, 2009
The big match needed a big performance from a big player and Brett Lee provided it © Global Cricket Ventures-BCCI

Brett Lee starred with a stunning all-round performance as New South Wales beat Trinidad & Tobago to win the inaugural Champions League Twenty20, and with it a jackpot of US$ 2.5 million, in Hyderabad. The 41-run margin of victory, however, didn't mean it was a one-sided contest: T&T dominated initially, reducing NSW to 83 for 6, before Lee's fighting innings lifted his side to a competitive total. He then returned for a fiery spell with the new ball, jolting T&T's chase with two early wickets.

Read more at http://www.cricinfo.com/australia/content/team/2.html

My next novel awaits in the wings at NaNoWriMo

I've just signed up for writing 50 000 words in November at http://www.nanowrimo.org/.

Yes, a first draft of a novel in one month. A hell of a lot of people sign up, but I wonder how many people complete it. I wonder if I'll complete it. I've been flashing at false starts for weeks now, so this may get a bulk of words down which I can then shape into something useful. Literary fiction, general fiction, YAL, pulp fiction - who cares. I plan to board my Inner Critic somewhere else for November. Even here, I am editing as I write. So, 50 000 in one month should cure me of that.

Won't you join me?

TS Eliot Prize 2009 shortlist

The shortlist

The Sun-fish by Eiléan Ní Chuilleánain

Continental Shelf by Fred D'Aguiar

Over by Jane Draycott

The Water Table by Philip Gross

Through the Square Window by Sinéad Morrissey

One Secret Thing by Sharon Olds

Weeds & Wild Flowers by Alice Oswald

A Scattering by Christopher Reid

The Burning of the Books and Other Poems by George Szirtes

West End Final by Hugo Williams

ABC National Radio's gems for this week

POETICA
24/10/2009 15:00
29/10/2009 15:00
Sunbathing in the Rain: Welsh poet Gwyneth Lewis reads and speaks about her work
URL: http://www.abc.net.au/rn/poetica/stories/2009/2664723.htm
Gwyneth Lewis, one of Wales’s most distinguished poets, reads a selection of her poetry including some new, unpublished works.


FIRST PERSON
Monday to Friday 10.45
26/10/2009 - 6/11/2009
SHOTS
Written and read by Don Walker
URL: http://abc.net.au/rn/firstperson/stories/2009/2655893.htm
In prose beautifully informed by his long career as one of Australia's best song writers, Don Walker creates a series of snapshots, ranging from his early life in rural Australia to his time as a member of the hugely popular band Cold Chisel. Learning music as a young boy in the bush, the band's early days in Adelaide, wild times on the road, and living on the edge in Kings Cross are all evoked in a pared-back but captivating manner.

Fringe Gallery Poetry and Performance Night Sunday October 25th, 7pm till 10pm.

Guests: Vivienne Glance; Jean Kent & Julie Watts

Vivienne Glance (pictured, reading from her book, The Softness of Water)(pic by Meredi Ortega)
Vivienne’s poetry and short stories have appeared in journals (incl. mascara, Colloquy, TEXT, indigo, Blue Dog), anthologies (incl. Poetry without Borders, The Weighing of the Heart, Open Boat Barbed Wire Sky) and other publications; she’s won places and commendations in competitions (C J Dennis Literary Award, Spilt Ink, Southern Cross Literary Award, Bauhinia Literary Award). A selection of her work features with 4 other poets in the new anthology ‘Amber Contains the Sun’, published in march this year through the DCA A Few New Words programme. Her first collection ‘The Softness of Water’ is published by Sunline Press.

Jean Kent
Jean comes from Lake Macquarie, in NSW, she has published three books of poetry: Verandahs ( Anne Elder Prize; Dame Mary Gilmore Award; short listed for the 1991 NSW State Literary Award), Practising Breathing and The Satin Bowerbird ( 1998 Michael Wright Prize). Her most recently completed manuscript, Travelling with the Wrong Phrase Books, was highly commended for the Arts ACT Alec Bolton Prize 2008. Jean is in Perth as the Established Artist in Residence at the Katherine Susannah Prichard Writer’s Centre.

Julie Watts
Julie is a member of OOTA and has two poems published in Weighing of the Heart, an OOTA anthology. Julie is a member of the OOTA Friday morning poetry series run by Shane McCauley and has recently become a committee member of OOTA.


When: Doors open at 7pm for chat, drinks, open mike sign up.
Readings start at 7.30 and the night is over by 10pm
Where: The Fringe Gallery Willagee, 94 Bawdan Street Willagee(opposite Webber Reserve)
Cost: $5.00 entry. Refreshments can be purchased on the night.

For further information contact:
Terry on 0412 911562 or email to terry.farrell@optusnet.com.au

Monk Lives!

I'm off to buy this one: THELONIOUS MONK

The Life and Times of an American Original

By Robin D. G. Kelley

Illustrated. 588 pp. Free Press. $30 [in USA]

Read excerpts from this new biography of a jazz giant at
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/18/books/excerpt-thelonious-monk.html?ref=review

Dive into The Merri Creek

Take a look at Kris Hemensley's The Merri Creek blog at http://collectedworks-poetryideas.blogspot.com/ ... Well, I think the blog is called Poetry and Ideas, but you'll get the gist of it when you go there. Enjoy. (The Collected Works bookshop is the best poetry bookshop in Australia, probably in the Southern Hemisphere. Next time you're in Melbourne do yourself a favour and shop there.)

Readings Grand Success @ Cultural Centre Markets

A beautiful spring day in Perth, with a maximum temperature of 37 Celsius, but plenty of shade, saw the inaugural Cultural Centre Markets Poetry Readings. What a lively bunch our WA Poets Inc members are! Chariperson and MC for the afternoon, Peter Jeffery (pictured) rolled up with a microphone and speaker, and poets arrived, bearing books for sale and big smiles. The dark angst ridden poets of bygone eras seem to have faded into the night or the dank corners of cellar bars. Here the sun shone in all its glory, and the words rose to greet the occasion. High-nesting cultural birds provided a chick chorus as Coral Carter got the reading off to a spirited start. I followed, and took the audience on a trip about Western Australia finally landing in China. From my quiet pensive tones to Janet Jackson's performance recital of colourful poems which she projected over PICA and down city streets. The poets followed each other, playing tag, introducing themselves as they went: Sue Clennell (reading from her book The Ink Drinkers), Sally Clark (reading from Poets@KSP, a small anthology hot of the press), Amanda Joy (reading from two USA magazines she has recently appeared in), Rose Van Loon (from Poets@KSP), Brendan Fenton, Jan Napier and his nibs Peter Jeffery.

The weather was great for us, in our shadey place, enjoying each poet's performance, but it seems to have discouraged shoppers. I have seen those markets crowded four times larger than today's meagre crowd, but the readings have begun, and we thank the Maidens of the Markets who encouraged such a reading and supplied the power for our humble amp. (Billy Thorpe wouldn't have used it as fold-back >g<)Further outings of a similar kind will be advertised here as dates and performer lists come to hand.

All photos by Amanda Joy.

Annual 20% Off Sale Planet Books SALE

For three days starting tomorrow morning, everything at Planet Books is 20% off. Now you can buy 'BEYOND CITY LIMITS' for just $12 (if my maths is right). Buy one for yourself and one for a friend!

This sale is only for this Friday, Saturday & Sunday, so get organised and buy your Christmas gifts early at 20% Off.

Obviously no reservations, no discounts on top of other discounts, no discounts on special order items, etc etc …

See you there!

WA Poets at Perth Cultural Centre Markets Sat 17 October

12 to 2 pm

Perth Cultural Centre Markets (between the State Library, the Art Gallery and the Museum).

Come along and enjoy performances from:

Janet Jackson

Andrew Burke

Afeif Ismail

Coral Carter

Amanda Joy

Sue Clennell

Jan Napier

Sally Clarke

Peter Jeffery

Derek Fenton



Zines, chapbooks and books will be for sale! (including my latest book, Beyond City Limits)

Then you are inited to the Perth Poetry Club for more poetry at the Court Hotel, 2 to 4pm.

'Beyond City Limits' available at these outlets: just $15

BASSENDEAN
Swan News, Bassendean Shopping Centre, cnr Old Perth Road and West Road, Bassendean

FREMANTLE
St John Bookshop, Highgate Court, Queen Street (near cnr High Street)

LEEDERVILLE
Oxford Street Books, 119 Oxford Street, Leederville

MELBOURNE
Collected Works Bookshop, Nicholas Building, Swanston Street, Melbourne 3000

Mt LAWLEY
ECU Bookshop, 2 Bradford Street, Mt Lawley

Planet Books, just off the corner of Beaufort & Walcott Sts., Mt Lawley (part of the Planet Video complex)

Word of the Day for Tuesday, October 13, 2009

triskaidekaphobia \tris-ky-dek-uh-FOH-bee-uh\, noun:

Fear or a phobia concerning the number 13.

Thirteen people, pledged to eliminate triskaidekaphobia, fear of the number 13, today tried to reassure American sufferers by renting a 13 ft plot of land in Brooklyn for 13 cents . . . a month.
-- Daily Telegraph, January 14, 1967

Past disasters linked to the number 13 hardly help triskaidekaphobics overcome their affliction. The most famous is the Apollo 13 mission, launched on April 11, 1970 (the sum of 4, 11 and 70 equals 85 - which when added together comes to 13), from Pad 39 (three times 13) at 13:13 local time, and struck by an explosion on April 13.
-- "It's just bad luck that the 13th is so often a Friday", Electronic Telegraph, September 8, 1996

Despite NASA's seemingly ingrained case of triskaidekaphobia, which forced managers to impose the bizarre, '13-free' numbering system on its flights, the crew of perhaps the most important Shuttle mission to date clearly were unsure if STS-41C was supposed to be unlucky or not.
-- Ben Evans, Space Shuttle Challenger: Ten Journeys into the Unknown

Triskaidekaphobia is from Greek treiskaideka, triskaideka, thirteen (treis, three + kai, and + deka, ten) + phobos, fear.

WA Poets at Perth Cultural Centre Markets Sat 17 October

Poets will be making some noise at the Perth Cultural Centre Markets!

Poetry in the streets!

Saturday 17th October

12 to 2 pm

Perth Cultural Centre Markets (between the State Library, the Art Gallery and the Museum).

Come along and enjoy performances from:

Janet Jackson

Andrew Burke

Afeif Ismail

Coral Carter

Amanda Joy

Sue Clennell

Jan Napier

Sally Clarke

Peter Jeffery

Derek Fenton



Zines, chapbooks and books will be for sale! (including my latest book, Beyond City Limits)

Then you are inited to the Perth Poetry Club for more poetry at the Court Hotel, 2 to 4pm.

Most Popular Poetry Collection @ Amazon

Julie Andrews' Collection of Poems, Songs, and Lullabies (Hardcover)

1000 Verse Renga, the world's longest poem ever!

from Alan Summers -

I'm the Embassy of Japan's roving "Japan-UK 150" haiku & renga poet-in-residence at Bath Central Library's poet-in-residence for October (into November) starting with National Poetry Day this Thursday at 2pm.

Everyone is invited. For more information about the 1000 Verse Renga:
http://tiny.cc/1000VerseRenga

For library access incl. lifts, BSL, and computers: http://tiny.cc/LibraryAccess

Draft Two: A CRYPTIC POEM (for Jeanette on her return

Across.

1. This man’s note
may produce surprise (12)
I plan to let the sheets fall
the way they might
on the line, but
can’t help myself and straighten
them out. 7. Slide about
and move sideways (5) Now they are
two wet but even rectangles clinging
in the sun. The fitted bottom sheet
won’t behave like that, so I
scallop it, four pegs holding
it up like a slain carcase. 11. Puts up
a secret entanglement (6)
Pillowcases are amenable to my will
and hang meekly, pegged
within an inch of their binding.
That’s the washing done.
12. Smooth tongue? (6) Now
to walk the dog. Turn
the dishwasher on first. As I press
the ‘go’ button, a flash of
guilt runs through me, saying,
Lazy bastard. 17. A ship that carries
goods ashore (3) But it is our way
now in this age, every home
has one. Furthermore, our dog has chewed
a bright green ice cream plastic bucket
into jigsaw pieces over my study floor.
I’ll clean that up when we get home.
19. The doctor may take one
for an idler (5) Is today the day
I buy that literary edition of
The Australian? 21. Won’t they want
a penny for their thoughts? (4-8)


Down.

1. Thrice curate perhaps—it’s
a way to earn a living (12) Who do
wildflowers work for? Those sirens
dot the path with mouths open to
the sky, yearning for longevity.
My dog and I step carefully.
2. What one does when
agreeably tired (3) When snap dragons
last in my doorway bloomed,
the pollen toecap of the gardener’s boot
heralded Hart-Smith between patrons.
5. She’s exact about one point (5)
a passion for the body in love or
dying, composing and decomposing.
10. Yet it means there’s only
a slim hope! (3, 6) which speaks
volumes about the interconnectivity
of our multi-celled selves. 13. I am
a long time getting the likeness (5)
whether you get my drift or not: one
cannot escape the canon, or, if so,
remain comprehensible. 20. Admit
changes now (3) how in slippage we
create, one lip singing over another.

Take a tour of the Novels up for the 2009 Man Booker prize

Go to http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/gallery/2009/sep/08/booker-prize-sarahwaters

Magpie poem project

John Malone invited other people on facebook to contribute haiku or haiku-like links to a poem along the lines of 13 Ways to view a Blackbird, by Wallace Stevens. Here's the result:

The Mag-Pie Poetry Project: a collaborative celebration of all things 'magpie' by fellow facebookers in haiku or haiku-like verse. These poems were collected over a period of only two days and appear in roughly the order in which they were received (JM):

11 Ways of Looking at a Magpie

low-flying magpie
dips wings, changes direction;
watching child applauds.

deborah green

punch-drunk magpie: pounding his reflection

john malone

black and white;
surely brown and grey?
half there in yellow grass

abigail dunleavy

heat wave ---
a magpie looks up
at the closed tap

myron lysenko

sticky-beak --
a magpie flies away
with the cat's lunch

maya lyubenova

persistent begging
of baby magpie. Gaping
mouth worm-filled. Silence

trevor hampel

cracking dawn
black white flash of
magpie beak

susan hawthorne

evening worship
in the silence between chants
magpie carolling

lyn reeves

after the shouting
two magpies in the garden
keeping their distance

rob scott

The 'Pies are out of the finals.
He sits and scratches at
the Magpie on his chest
but it won't fly off.

andrew burke

spring morn; cycling
through smoggy traffic, skirting parks
with trees --- and magpies

amelia walker

haiku

Oh, weeds!
If only my hair grew
as lushly.

Quote: Saint Francis of Assisi

"He who works with his hands is a laborer.
He who works with his hands and his head is
a craftsman. He who works with his hands
and his head and his heart is an artist."
~St Francis of Assisi

I hitched this from Amanda Joy's facebook page. Thanks, Amanda, I think it is great.

Hear a ballad from BEYOND CITY LIMITS ...

Go to http://www.margaretwalters.com/, scroll down to the CD named Power of Song, and look for Track 13, The Ballad of Many Crows. Click on the music notation at the end of the name. Voila! Australian folksinger Margaret Walters will sing it for you.

I have been reading this poem from my new book Beyond City Limits (ICLL @ ECU)around the traps, and told people of the sung version, so I thought I'd post the connection up here. I hope you enjoy it.

Beyond City Limits is available at -

BASSENDEAN
Swan News, Bassendean Shopping Centre, cnr Old Perth Road and West Road, Bassendean

FREMANTLE
St John Bookshop, Highgate Court, Queen Street (near cnr High Street)

LEEDERVILLE
Oxford Street Books, 119 Oxford Street, Leederville

MELBOURNE
Collected Works Bookshop, Nicholas Building, Swanston Street, Melbourne 3000

Mt LAWLEY
ECU Bookshop, 2 Bradford Street, Mt Lawley

Planet Books, just off the corner of Beaufort & Walcott Sts., Mt Lawley (part of the Planet Video complex)

Vivienne Glance's "The Softness of Water" launched today

Today saw the launch of Vivienne Glance's The Softness of Water, published by Roland Leach's Sunline Press. A very attractive book, indeed. (Cover image above.)

Some people at the launch - Peter and Julie Jeffery, Pauline Matthews, John Aitken, Annamaria Weldon, Afeif Ismael, Amanda Joy and Angelo, Sally Clarke, Amanda Curtin, Jo Clark(e), Jen de Ness and husband William I think it was, Dick Atherton... No doubt I have forgotten some, so forgive me, please.

The book was launched by Shane McCauley and Donna Ward. Shane's speech was more about the literary content of the book, while Donna spoke of Vivienne's contribution to the arts and their long friendship, including writing sessions and editing each other's work.

Today's spring weather was delightful and the courtyard at the Fremantle Arts Centre was just perfect for the occasion.

So, long live Roland's Sunline Press, and may The Softness of Water sell well.

Style Invitational Winners - It's good to have a larf!

The Washington Post's Style Invitational also asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

The winners are:


1. *Bozone* (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright
ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign
of breaking down in the near future.

2. *Foreploy* (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.

3. *Cashtration* (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for an indefinite period.

4. *Giraffiti* (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

5. *Sarchasm* (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the
person who doesn't get it.

6. *Inoculatte* (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

7. *Hipatitis* (n): Terminal coolness.

8. *Osteopornosis* (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

9. *Karmageddon* (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these
really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a
serious bummer.

10. *Decafalon* (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.

11. *Glibido* (v): All talk and no action.

12. *Dopeler effect* (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you rapidly.

13. *Arachnoleptic fit *(n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.

14. *Beelzebug* (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

15. *Caterpallor* (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the
fruit you're eating.

And the pick of the literature:

16. *Ignoranus* (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

BEYOND CITY LIMITS Available at These Bookshops

Forty one (41) poems for just $15. Bargain!

BASSENDEAN
Swan News, Bassendean Shopping Centre, cnr Old Perth Road and West Road, Bassendean

FREMANTLE
St John Bookshop, Highgate Court, Queen Street (near cnr High Street)

LEEDERVILLE
Oxford Street Books, 119 Oxford Street, Leederville

Mt LAWLEY
ECU Bookshop, 2 Bradford Street, Mt Lawley

Planet Books, just off the corner of Beaufort & Walcott Sts., Mt Lawley (part of the Planet Video complex)

A Basho hokku from 1692 ...

cats making love-
when it's over, misty
moonlight in the bedroom

-

A terrible joke, the pain of which is lessened if I share it with you ...

Old Poets bar, one poet talking to another.
"Why do Cowboys write poetry?"
Second poet says,"I don't know. Why?"
"Because they’re inspired by the moos."

Thank you, Sam Taggart - I think.

Watch+Listen - Hammer Museum: Rachel Loden and Rae Armantrout

Watch+Listen - Hammer Museum

Shared via AddThis

A couple of my favourite contemporary writers reading. Ain't technology grand?!

Blurb from the site:

9/8/09 -- Rae Armantrout is a professor of writing in the literature department at UCSD and the author of ten books of poetry, including Versed, Next Life, which was selected by Publishers Weekly as one of the best poetry books of 2007, and Up to Speed, also selected by Publishers Weekly as one of the best poetry books of the year. She has received awards from the Guggenheim Foundation, the Fund for Poetry, and the California Arts Council Individual Artist Fellowship. Rachel Loden is the author of Dick of the Dead, which came out in May, 2009. Her first book, Hotel Imperium, was selected as one of the ten best poetry books of the year by the San Francisco Chronicle, which called it ?quirky and beguiling.? Awards include two appearances in the Best American Poetry series, a Pushcart Prize, a Fellowship in Poetry from the California Arts Council, and a grant from the Fund for Poetry. (Run Time: 1 hour, 23 min.)

Dennis Haskell spells out his literary goals

from http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au


His appointment strengthens WA's representation on the seven-member literature board: Perth-born Gail Jones and Fay Zwicky, who went from Melbourne to Perth to work at UWA many years ago, are also on it.

The Literature Board's primary role is to grant funds directly to writers as well as to organisations such as publishers, literary magazines and writers centres, which make up the infrastructure of the literary world.

Haskell describes three aspects of the task of fostering literature: "The creation of literature, getting it published and marketing it, which includes writers festivals and encouragements to readers."

The board's five members are now Haskell, Jones, Zwicky, John Romeril and Margo Lanagan. Last month, according to an Australia Council spokesperson, the federal Arts Minister received recommendations for filling two vacancies, one of which opened when Nicholas Jose recently left to take up the chair of Australian studies at Harvard.

Stockhausen's Kontakte with the Ensemble Offpsring

Last night I attended the 9th Totally Huge New Music Festival for the Western Australian premier performance of Karlheinz Stockhausen's Kontakte by members of Ensemble Offspring.
The program began with some forgettable works by Pimmon (Paul Gough) and other members of Ensemble Offspring, but the actual Stockhausen piece was fan-bloody-tastic. The pre-recorded electronic work was piped into the room in four corners, while Bernadette Balkus on piano and percussion pieces and Claire Edwardes on everything percussive (and some strange uses of those at that!)played live - and energetically too! They'll never get fat and unfit, I can tell you.

Old fashioned music man that I am, I enjoyed the cohesiveness of it and the connectivity of disparate sounds from a multitude of instruments, building a musical narrative framework - in direct contrast to Stockhausen's stated intention. Maybe his theory came to life in pieces after this. The programme notes, by Damien Ricketson (co-artistic director of Ensemble Offspring), say 'Kontakte is also noted as an example of Stockhausen's "moment form": a concept of structuring time that largely negates a narrative reading of music. Moment form focuses on the present moment and rejects music as a sequence of linear cause and effect relationships.'

In what time I have in the next couple of days, I will listen to other Stockhausen works (on CD) with this in mind.

Thanks to Tos Mahoney and Tura New Music for organising this festival - in a strange place for a New Music Fest - the WA Museum!

Beth Gelert; or, the Grave of the Greyhound

(William Robert Spencer 1769-1834)

The spearmen heard the bugle sound,
And cheerly smiled the morn;
And many a brach, and many a hound,
Obeyed Llewelyn's horn.

And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a lustier cheer:
'Come, Gelert come, wer't never last
Llewelyn's horn to hear.

'Oh where does faithful Gelert roam,
The flower of all his race;
So true, so brave, a lamb at home,
A lion in the chase?'

'Twas only at Llewelyn's board
The faithful Gelert fed;
He watched, he served, he cheered his lord,
And sentinelled his bed.

In sooth he was a peerless hound,
The gift of royal John;
But now no Gelert could be found,
And all the chase rode on.

And now, as o'er the rocks and dells
The gallant chidings rise,
All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells
The many-mingled cries.

That day Llewelyn little loved
The chase of hart and hare;
And scant and small the booty proved,
For Gelert was not there.

Unpleased Llewelyn homeward hied,
When near the portal seat
His truant Gelert he espied,
Bounding his lord to greet.

But when he gained his castle door
Aghast the chieftain stood;
The hound all o'er was smeared with gore,
His lips, his fangs, ran blood.

Llewelyn gazed with fierce surprise;
Unused such looks to meet,
His favourite checked his joyful guise,
And crouched, and licked his feet.

Onward in haste Llewelyn passed,
And on went Gelert too;
And still, where'er his eyes he cast,
Fresh blood-gouts shocked his view.

O'erturned his infants bed he found,
With blood-stained covert rent;
And all around the walls and ground
With recent blood besprent.

He called his child--no voice replied--
He searched with terror wild;
Blood, blood he found on every side,
But nowhere found his child.

'Hell hound! my child's by thee devoured,'
The frantic father cried;
And to the hilt his vengeful sword
He plunged in Gelert's side.

His suppliant looks, as prone he fell,
No pity could impart;
But still his Gelert's dying yell
Passed heavy o'er his heart.

Aroused by Gelert's dying yell,
Some slumberer wakened nigh:
What words the parent's joy could tell
To hear his infant's cry!

Concealed beneath a tumbled heap
His hurried search had missed,
All glowing from his rosy sleep,
The cherub boy he kissed.

Nor scathe had he, nor harm, nor dread,
But, the same couch beneath,
Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead,
Tremendous still in death.

Ah, what was then Llewelyn's pain!
For now the truth was clear;
His gallant hound the wolf had slain,
To save Llewelyn's heir.

Vain, vain was all Llewelyn's woe:
'Best of thy kind, adieu!
The frantic blow, which laid thee low,
This heart shall ever rue.'

And now a gallant tomb they raise,
With costly sculpture decked;
And marbles storied with his praise
Poor Gelert's bones protect.

There never could the spearman pass,
Or forester, unmoved;
There, oft the tear-besprinkled grass
Llewelyn's sorrow proved.

And there he hung his horn and spear,
And there, as evening fell,
In fancy's ear he oft would hear
Poor Gelert's dying yell.

And till great Snowdon's rocks grow old,
And cease the storm to brave,
The consecrated spot shall hold
The name of 'Gelert's grave'.

Note that the accent is on the first syllable of Gelert and Beddgelert is pronounced Beth Gelert as in the title of Spencer's poem.

CJ Dennis Prize for Poetry: Winner & Shortlist 2009

Judges: Claire Gaskin (convenor), Justin Clemens and Lisa Gorton
Judges’ comments

It was great to see such a large number of entries from Australian presses, reflecting the range and strength of our national poetry scene, the irrepressibility of poetry. We were excited by several new poets, such as Andrew Slattery with Canyon, and also by some striking collections from established poets, such as Anthony Lawrence's Bark and Pam Brown's True Thoughts. This award is for a substantial body of new work: the books on the shortlist distinguished themselves by their craft and commitment, and because they held together as collections.

Winner

The winner of the CJ Dennis Prize for Poetry is:

* The Golden Bird
Robert Adamson (Black Inc)

Shortlist

The Golden Bird - WINNER

Robert Adamson
(Black Inc)

The new work in this collection shows remarkable craftsmanship. From the very beginning of the sequence, one knows one is in capable hands; Adamson never strikes a bum note. The poems are spare and fantastical, where strange birds fly from savage nature into the world of history and politics. Adamson creates a taut vernacular with an element of song, which pulses throughout the poems.


Fishing in the Devonian

Carol Jenkins
(Puncher and Wattman)

Fishing in the Devonian draws on astrophysics, palaeontology and suburban Australian life. Driving the idea of 'nature poetry' beyond its usual limits, Jenkins creates a stunning sequence of poems with an extraordinary power of defamiliarisation. From extinct species of fish to extinct species of fridge, Jenkins' wit and imagination is evident throughout.


The Other Way Out

Bronwyn Lea
(Giramondo Publishing)

Lea works and reworks traditional forms, bringing individuality and edginess, wit and longing to her verse. The poems are lucid yet surprising, consistent and seductive. The directness of Lea's voice balances intimacy with restrained technical experimentation. Wide-ranging in her allusions, Lea writes as well about love as about art, setting up dialogues between other writers, thinkers and her own life.

Two New Chapbooks by Andrew Lansdown from Picaro Press

You might like to know that Picaro Press (Warners Bay, NSW) has just published two small collections of Andrew Lansdown's poetry:



1. Consolations: 48 tanka (28 pages)



2. Little Matters: a gathering of 89 haiku & senryu (24 pages)



These chapbooks are available from the publisher http://www.picaropress.com/ for $3.60 each, postage included.

I'll say it again ...

Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.


CALVIN COOLIDGE
July 4, 1872 – January 5, 1933

from The Group

WARNING!! SPECIAL SEALED POETRY SECTION!!


All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling Oscar Wilde No poems can please for long or live that are written by water drinkers Horace Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing Sylvia Plath A poet's work is to name the unnameable to point at frauds to take sides start arguments shape the world and stop it going to sleep Salman Rushdie Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world Percy Bysshe Shelley Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history Plato Poetry is as precise as geometry Gustave Flaubert Always be a poet even in prose Charles Baudelaire A poem is never finished only abandoned Paul Valery



CLICK BELOW AT OWN RISK!!**



http://larrybuttrose.blogspot.com/2009/08/group-2-poets.html



Poetry is what gets lost in translation Robert Frost There is poetry as soon as we realize that we possess nothing John Cage Poetry the best words in the best order Samuel Taylor Coleridge Painting is silent poetry and poetry is painting that speaks Plutarch To see clearly is poetry prophecy and religion all in one John Ruskin There's no money in poetry but then there's no poetry in money either Robert Graves I talk to God but the sky is empty Sylvia Plath Forever is composed of nows Emily Dickinson A poet can survive everything but a misplint Oscar Wilde

LAUNCH: The Softness of Water by Vivienne Glance, published by Sunline Press

You are invited to celebrate the launch of

“The Softness of Water”
a collection of poems
by Vivienne Glance

Launched by Shane McCauley with Donna Ward

Sunday 27th September 2009

2.30pm - 4.30pm
The Inner Courtyard, Fremantle Arts Centre
1, Finnerty Street, Fremantle

Light refreshments
Music from WAZA Ensemble
and Jen de Ness & Bill Atkinson
Books available for sale $25

Sonnets from Carine Senior High School Students

Recently I visited Carine Senior High School for National Poetry Week where a couple of classes were looking at the Sonnet form. We looked at Sonnets from Shakespeare to Tranter, taking them on a whirlwind journey from the revolutionary forms created by the Bard through to John Tranter's hundred sonnets in his earlier collection, Crying In Early Infancy.

Their teacher, Helen McCormick, kindly sent me a couple of sonnets by two of the students, so - with their permission - I will share them with you now.

Sonnet #4,359
by KALE CROSBIE

Shall I compare thee to a bowl of cereal?
Thou art more lovely - though contain less whole grains.
While a bowl of cereal is a tasty morning snack
and contains many nutrients essential to well being,
I believe you could far outpace one in a triathlon,
Or maintain a better golfing handicap.
Cereals wither by milk's souring course untrimmed,
But thy eternal dairy shall not rot!
I would also like to point out that such a bowl
Does not have the mental capacity to operate simple devices
Such as an umbrella, doorknob or wooden box,
Whereas you exceed at such activities.
So long as brunch can provide us with these nutrients,
So long lives my preference for you over Uncle Toby.


*

The Model of Modern Society
by Hannah Richards

Her hair is ruler straight with multi-hued tips,
eyelashes flick dark black while lines are drawn.
A tan visage, cherry-licking lips.
Glass reflects a sleek, short silk, slimly worn.

A diamond bag worth half the week's earnings
clutched at her side, the nails creamy French fakes.
The men sigh, brought back to common yearnings,
women cry, oh how that jealousy aches.

Replications stuck in people’s faces.
At new birth, will she be remembered?
Girls; dreaming of re-walking her paces.
Sly reporters; her story dismembered.

To be famous, to be rich, to be hot;
aspirations are founded on these, are they not?

*

Thank you also to Betty Bryant who organised the visit, and to Robin (spl?) Archer, teacher, and the great librarians I met who were nothing like the ones I see causing such havoc on ABC TV.


PS: I apologise to Kale who I had as Kate for about two days - sorry about that.

Thursday evening @ 6.30pm at PLANET BOOKS be there for the launch of ANDREW TAYLOR'S The Unhaunting

Hear ye! Hear ye!

Entries are now being accepted for the KSP Short Fiction Award 2009:


Writers of all ages are invited to submit their work.
Young writers (20 years and under) are encouraged to enter the
Mundaring National Young Writers Awards
where they may submit their work for FREE!

Cash prizes are awarded, and winners will be invited to read
at the Celebration of Katharine’s Birthday
KSP Writers’ Centre, 3 pm Sunday, December 6, 2009.

A fee of $7.00 per story applies for all Open Category entries with a limit of one story per person.


For further information, including Conditions of Entry,
please contact KSP on 9294 1872
or visit their website http://www.kspf.iinet.net.au.

My visit to ECU Bunbury today (for National Poetry Week)

Dr Donna Mazza, author and academic, arranged for a poetry workshop and reading down at ECU Bunbury today. I enjoyed every minute of it - well, I'm like that with an audience, aren't I. The audience was mainly from the local campus, but a small number of people did come from Margaret River and Busselton, etc. I was flattered that people would drive out of their way to hear me.

My new book, Beyond City Limits, did sell well, so I was doubly pleased.

Pics: The small crowd are reading entries in the instant poetry competition, which Donna organised great prizes for. And the formal photo shows myself, the boss Robert Irvine, and the indefatigable Donna Mazza.

Today, 2-hour Poetry Workshop at ECU Bunbury Campus

If you are down Bunbury way Thursday 3 September, come to ECU's South West Campus, Building 5, for a two hour Poetry Workshop lead by yours truly, starting at 10am, then a poetry Reading & Slam, with prizes, after. It will be fun, I assure you, and it is all part of Australia's National Poetry Week.

Andrew Taylor interviewed by Peter Jeffery this Friday

Hear ANDREW TAYLOR on 6EBA (95.3 FM) around 4pm this Friday in an interview with Peter Jeffery. This Arts program is one of the few places in Perth media where poetry is often featured and promoted.

Andrew Taylor's new poetry collection, The Unhaunting, has just been released by SALT Books. It will be launched by Dennis Haskell at Planet Books, Beaufort Street, Mt Lawley, 6.30pm on Thursday 10th September.

STOP PRESS:

The title poem from Annamaria Weldon's collection The Roof Milkers (Sunline Press 2008) will be featured on ABC Radio National's Poetica this Saturday 5th September.