Pilgrim Without Destination
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Walking Tree
Thursday, August 12, 2010
watermarks
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
The Summer King - Poems Joanna Preston
The Summer King was in 2008 the initial winner of the Kathleen Grattan Award. Since publication it has gone on to win the 2010 Mary Gilmore Poetry Prize.
On a wagon bound for market
There's a calf with a mournful eye.
High above him there's a swallow
Winging swiftly through the sky.
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered
Never knowing the reason why.
But whoever treasures freedom,
Like the swallow has learned to fly
Saturday, July 17, 2010
A Million Bright Things at Riverbend
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Gritting of teeth over defining haiku
On one hand I am irritated with efforts to define haiku.
That means kill the butterfly, shove a pin through its abdomen and put the dead beauty in a museum display case.
On the other hand I have a most beautiful butterfly sitting on my bookshelf.
No formaldehyde or such preservative, so the throrax and abdomen have been eaten away, leaving a gap like some monstrous vagina.
To praise a gruesome image (lets make pacts with the dark things inside us – after all it is the shadows that give form to colour) it means my butterfly cannot now be pinned down.
And to return to the lines in the palm of the hand, they do speak of the bones and muscles underneath, and even speak of the embryo’s first clutching.
My perspective is not so much any belief in being able to convey the butterflyness of the butterfly. My case is that artifacts are a state of mind,
And artifacts may be eaten away like my butterfly.
& so to my non-definition of haiku:
Haiku are a deep faith in language, ritualized in brevity, a belief that the omissions of brevity can contain more than is said, a desperate and joyous attempt to convey the felt in what is seen. Despite their supposed expression of here & now, what you don’t see is what you get. How much of
that is the knotting of our delusions is an inextricable conundrum.
Each haiku is a small anxiety – a hope that connection at a distance is real
cycling
into the motorbikes
backfire
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sleep - (A tanka)
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Weight
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The Story in Her Face
Her high cheekbones round as Golgotha
Monday, March 30, 2009
Horse Tale
a wild horse