Sunday, February 8, 2009

THE MERRI CREEK : POEMS & PIECES #9, February, 2009

TOM BATES

SCULPTING CLARE : Extracts from working journals and sketchbooks, 1990-93
(the John Clare Cycle)



5 October 1990
Made first of three armatures to begin a cycle of sculptures about John Clare.

8 October
In this cycle of work I sense many of my preoccupations will coalesce, the question will be whether the sculptures will have vitality, power and sensitivity equivalent to the writings and temperament of the poet.

21 November
Cold, very cold evenings. I have continued to rework the eighth version (study of memorial to Clare) which has served as a reminder that enthusiasm is no substitution for skill and to achieve the effects required needs hard work. Who better than Clare as example? Who could present images so fresh and vigorous and worked immensely hard to achieve those effects.

10 February 1991
I press on with drawings and correspondence in connection with a Clare monument at Peterborough Cathedral or the city centre or Helpston.

19 April
Another long hiatus caused by an asthmatic illness and completing works intended for submission to the Royal Academy. I continued to draw spasmodically and lately resumed work on the series of Clare in old age, wintering. ...I will/ must fulfill the cycle :

1. Clare as a young man with a child
2. Clare in maturity
3. Clare in old age

1. Stamford / childhood / promise / beginnings in poetry
2. Peterborough / vigorous maturity / intense objectivity
3. Northampton / solitary / become like a tree / wrecked / inward looking

9 June
Once more the wind and the rain. I wrote out the final drafts of the submission for the [Northampton] Guildhall Clare and drew until after midnight. ...I have three variants on the same theme as the choices for the final version of the Guildhall Clare and should have the submission in the post by Wednesday morning. The piece is of Clare in old age within a cage of three hawthorns, canopied over by foliage pierced for patterns of light to fall onto the head which is intended to appear sightless, inward looking.




My work does look back to my studies in Italy and France and to early heroes, Donatello, Rodin, Epstein & oddly perhaps, Jagger who was a powerful modeller with a sharp sense of composition. To a great degree I am a child of the C19th, I admire the achievements of many artists active in the early decades of this century in western European art... .

24 October 1992
In some of the sculptures of Michelangelo tensions are set up between passages roughly hewn and those vigorously drawn and become essential to the sculpture's nature and psychological density.




23 February 1993
When one looks at the Behnes portrait it reflects back the tubbiness of a meat and potato eater and a drinker of beer.

27 October 1992
I want to create the impression of Clare walking against the wind which was the element Clare associated with creation and in my experience of the region around Helpston the wind is seldom absent for long.



30 December1992
I began the journey to Stamford early yesterday, before first light, as I climbed into the car, a solitary blackbird sang into the dusky air. The journey towards Bristol was in clearing sunlight until Nailsea when I entered the twilight world of icy fog [which] lay across the Cotswolds and south western Midlands... I arrived at Stamford in glittering sunshine. With the help of Michael Key I erected the plaster, posed for photographs [Stamford Mercury] and left... reaching Thorverton before 7pm. for a drink in the Dolphin.
I anticipate the Stamford Clare won't have an easy passage, but then if I wanted an easy life I would not have chosen sculpture.





[These extracts are from the John Clare Society Journal, UK, Bicentenary number, 1993]

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SUSAN FEALY


NOTES ON ART & DYING


19-10-2008 ...How to paint a rose

A glass case displays the steps for painting a rose. It is like looking down through still water at a catalogue of the artist's mind. First, the water colours on white paper: orange-red, orange-purple, purple-red... like a row of summer icy-poles melting. Second: words in neat rows of type on the page: "the rose grows in the walled gardens of Highgrove and is the most glowing of reds oranges and purples - at times I had to blink to rest my eyes from its brilliance." The finished botanical lies beside the words. A single red rose, head composed high on its stem, elegant, vigorous, more luminous than its foil of white. Like the first and final drafts of a poem. The completed rose is perfect in every real detail: emblematic, cultivated to sharp points of lineage, the petals soft as blood. The real rose lies beside its representation. How do you draw a rose dying?

20-10-2008 ...The Art of imperfection

It is different in my mind's painting. There we swung on creaking swings and claimed the sky as our own. Now the pine tree is dead and the grass, in spring, is drier than summer. Aleesha's hair is crimped from yesterday's plaits, her bottom two moons in white leggings. "No," she says, "that's wrong. You do it like this." Ben tells the same story three times: "I threw this thing at a target and I won, but I cheated a bit, and I got a certifi-keet." His four-year-old eyes look somewhere - beyond his family, beyond his sturdy face. And then my mother. She and her walking-stick. My mother in her fuchsia purple and matching shoes. "I've started an art class but the teacher is not helping much," she tells me. "I can't get the light right. I am not really an artist." Her arms are a small drought, quiet as honeycomb left out to weather.

25-10-2008 ...Tableware for angels

What do angels do if they fall to earth and lose their wings? They make things to remind them of home. This white is so white it is not colour - it is a substance. This is Southern Ice Porcelain: bowls and cylinders - so perfect they name themselves to the eyes as an alphabet of shape. They have such stillness - as if they are pieces of eternity. But what work, what work: he draws clay from the earth, drives out the titanium, his hands and the wheel catch that moment when liquid slides form from its shadow. He stands them in a diamond blaze of fire and then inscripts: zephyr breeze on river water, wind in long summer grass, his dying wife's journal. In groups of three they stand on a fusion of green of earth, blue of sky. His porcelain waits for the company of angels.


[Note
These poems were written after a visit to the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery in October 2008. Les Blakebrough's Ceramics and Anne O'Connor's Botanical Paintings were on display. Les Blakebrough's web site is http://www.lesblakebrough.com.au/ ]


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SUE STANFORD



THE POTTER'S RETREAT

(for Peter Rushforth)



approaching
through spring apple trees --
a white horse


so many shiny cars
around the potter's retreat


set on garden stumps
blossom vases
catch the bush light


the kiln's molten red
cools to soft blue


iron-speckled glaze --
five colours
of lichen on the sandstone


froom lip to belly and back
I stroke my favourite pot


the tea cup is full --
bamboo flue music
drifts over the cliff edge

*

[published in The Neon City]


*

Kris Hemensley / Sue Stanford
10/9/08
Dear Sue, Didnt attend an acquaintance's exhibition opening last night because heavy & tired & etc...oh well... However, what I did do was resolve to write you about a poem in your little book [The Neon City, pub. Post Pressed Press, Queensland, 2008] : The Potter's Retreat (for Peter Rushforth). Is there more for you to say about Peter Rushforth? Do you know him? Have you been around his work for a while? I'm increasingly a fan of certain strands in Australian pottery/ceramics, and respect him as one of the originals, as it were...
Kris

*

12/9/08
Dear Kris, Yes, I do/did know Peter Rushforth a little and wrote those haiku for him and at an open day/ sale he had in his place in the Blue Mountains sometime in the late 90s.
Long ago, I was lucky enough to get a place at East Sydney Tech to study ceramics full-time when Peter & Col Levy were working there. Silly me -- I didn't realise what a chance I'd been given and dropped out after about six months when it all started to get high pressure! But Peter (and Col) by introducing me to Japanese pottery were probably a bigger influence than I usually realise on Bill and I deciding to go there [Japan] and teach. Something we did before it was the thing to do.
(...) I guess you know about his background as a POW? I admire the way he put it to use (or overcame it?) and to have then gone to Japan to study ceramics. (...)
Sue

*

13/9/08
Dear Sue, thanks for stimulating e/ on the potters... My introduction to these great artists was the Australian craftsman potters book [Nine Artist Potters, ed Alison Littlemore & Kraig Carlstrom; pub Jack Pollard Craftsmaster, Sydney, 1973]. This year I've seen two wonderful shows at Anna Maas's Skepsi Gallery, top of Swanston Street, one by Ivor McMeekin's daughter, Susan, the other by Col Levy's wife, Maureen Williams-Levy... Is there a narrative here about potter fathers & children, spouses? In the gallery's cabinets there are Rushforth & co... You probably know all this... My brother Bernard is a Zen man in darkest Dorset... his pottery love out of Leach & Hamada... He has a couple of pieces, a Cardew, a son of Leach's... we share a little bowl we bought together on Portland... I've begun to think that I value the "Australian" aspect more in the potters than the painters... because of the material's relation to place & person as transforming entity... Would love to chat about this sometime... And about your Japan of course...
Best wishes, Kris

*

17/9/08
Dear Kris, (....) Do know all about Leach, Hamada, Cardew etc. (Or did!) It's a long time now. I expect you know the website http://www.e-yakimono.net/ ? Some fantastic photos. I had a small collection of mostly Bizenyaki and Tambayaki. But they all got smashed in the earthquake. Passed the time in my life for collections now! (Except perhaps for books -- but even there I have no space to keep what I won't read again.)
Cheers, Sue

*

1/10/08
Dear Sue (....) A monograph on Les Blakebrough came for me today. I'm fascinated, as you'd guess in that Japanese chapter of his life... he was in Kyoto with other poet artist expats in the early 60s...
Kris

*

"IN THE BEGINNING WOMAN WAS THE SUN"
(a salute to Hiratsuka Raichou)

Half sleeping, I am trembling
like the body of the plane.
Some papery husks lie offered on my tray.
"In the beginning woman was the sun."

Outside, the stratosphere
is minus fifty-two. Strapped here within
the darkened fuselage, my arm has fused
against another dreamer's arm.
How dull we look, though an inferno burns
beneath each well-banked surface.
"In the beginning woman was the sun."

My clock's awry! In flashbacks of Bizen
massed pots glow in the roar of the long kilns.
For sleepless days and sleepless nights,
an old man squints to judge the temperature.
"In the beginning woman was the sun."

Each character is formed by chance
and where the piece was stacked.
A storm of ash solidifies to sheen,
or tiny archipelagos of glaze.
A red rimmed blotch, so like a recent scab,
appears on separated neighbours.
"In the beginning woman was the sun."

Piled eastern cumuli release my window blind.
The attendant pours a cup of orange juice.
Chaotic turbulence resolves
into a sweet citric solar circle.
"In the beginning woman was the sun."


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


JAN STUMBLES / KRIS HEMENSLEY


October 11, 2008

Dear Jan, I'd been looking forward to seeing Tony Smibert's exhibition at the Glen Eira Gallery, having picked him out of the September '08 Art Almanac, and couldnt believe it when, in course of a recent telephone call, you told me it had finished on the 5th! The advert in the Almanac --& I'm looking at it now -- states 24th September-15th October --evidently an error! More salt in the wound!
I didnt kmow his name or work, or at least cannot remember seeing him previously. What caught my eye was the juxtaposition of the dramatically lit mountain landscape and the Zen-like zig-zag slashes in two of the inset reproductions --water-colours --and the brief description referring to Smibert's involvement with JMW Turner, akkido, calligraphy, abstract expressionism. I guess this resonated with my own preoccupations or, better said, continuing attempts to define the equation which might hold the spontaneous along with the attention necessary for topographical art (which begs a question, I know, about the degree of body & imagination occurring in, say, landscape art) : the equation or relation of spontaneity & transcription, invention & document...
Our conversation about Tony Smibert & related matters did assuage my grievance at missing the show. And I'd like to recover some of it here and tickle it further. For starters : I thrilled to your comment that water-colour (your own medium) in the Western tradition, is to us what Chinese & Japanese ink-brush is to them.
And, of course, Turner might well be another key. I'd just been looking at reproductions of Turner's Rain - Steam - Speed(1844) painting, which was a reference in a topographical piece I was writing, about Melbourne or rather Westgarth & Clifton Hill [since published in HEAT, #18, December '08]... But I should also be writing about Chinese poems & paintings and everything else thrown up by my brother Bernard's & my correspondence on Kerouac's Dharma Bums!
I did look for Smibert on the Web, and found fascinating report on his work on Turner, at the Tate, and will follow up your suggestions regarding viewing otherexamples of his own work, including the technical videos...
Hope this finds you in a good space, and hope you can read my handwriting!
Best wishes,
Kris

*

14-10-08
Dear Kris, It has arrived! Thank you so much. I've done a little "dipping" but thought I should reacquaint myself with Celan, Jabes and Kafka, at least a little, before I begin.
The Tony Smibert thing is interesting re spontaneity & attention -- he has written a series of articles for The Australian Artist --a monthly magazine --on imaginative landscapes, which you might like. There's a couple on the web I think.
It's strange the spontaneity & attention/awareness thing -- in ink brush it was the thing, in its way, even though you were mostly engaged in copying the master's work which he had just done in front of you as a demonstration.
As regards my own 'practice' : I started ink brush with an art therapy book called Art is a Way of Knowing & discovered it was. The exercise I liked most was one where you held a feeling you had --without naming it-- shut your eyes and make marks on the paper with your pencil or pen and then looked to see what you 'had' : which was often nothing to speak of and went on from there. A doodling exercise in a sense -- that grew into the weird and wonderful. Spontaneous yet totally 'deliberate' & completely absorbing -- you became lost in it. It was a great way for me to avoid the self-harm demon but went on from that.
I almost regret the Botanicals etc because Art Brut as it's called is made with spontaneous intent & is made out of your inner self in much the same way, metaphorically speaking, that a spider spins its web.
As far as Watercolor goes & its relation to the way of the brush -- I don't know that the West has used it that way with all its under-drawing etc -- except perhaps for Mr Turner who dispensed with all of that -- it's just that it's a medium that can be used that way if you wish. Hence Smibert's appeal to me I guess. It's a familiarity born of my ink-brush lessons where we used watercolour for colour instead of coloured ink sticks or powder which are very toxic usually.
When it comes to the topographical I'm one for the landscapes of the mind, like Hopkins and other poets I'm thinking around but whose names escape me just at this minute -- Chinese poets of course!
Getting back to our Reluctant Theologians [ : Kafka, Celan, Jabes, by Beth Hawkins, pub. Fordham University Press, '02], I am interested in the relation between the unutterable and the unspeakable -- and so I think is Les Murray -- his darkness of course is different. The natural order is there as well. The light of Australia as opposed to the dark grey of Europe seems an almost Real Presence. In Kevin Hart too, I think.
Have you tried reading in concert a Christian English translation of Genesis with a Jewish English translation? If you haven't I recommend the Stone Chumash published by Artscroll. How strange -- the same yet they're not a fit. Also the commentary in the latter is wonderful -- Rashi, Rambam et al. Extraordinary insight that i find strangely echoed in the first pages of Vol 1 of Jabes, The Book of Questions.
I don't know if you've come across The Particulars of Rapture [Exodus] or The Beginnings of Desire [Genesis] by Avivah Gottlieb Zomberg? They are truly wonderful -- but like so much Jewish writing on these things so dense & rich that one can only manage a little at a time. I hope I will manage to get to the end sometime before I die --the same with The Infinite Conversation.
This brings me full circle to Zen & tao as almost it seems "stopping up" thought in favour of present awareness. It's beautiful --especially in the brush. But I cannot give up or escape words. The Word. "Going visual" for me has caused something of a crisis. The old saw : "Show Don't Tell" and "a picture paints a thousand words" is so true that for some time now I have felt I have lost my words -- for such things as poetry or fiction -- I want them back, I really do. There is something choked off in the heart of me, that has to do with this. Words are for something other than the visual I think --which belies some of what I have just written; but it has something to do with the work of our reluctant theologians and is beauty, depth, fear & trembling of course --but also of us & words and how we make them and they make us into something other.
I have never forgotten an English priest who came to speak to us in Matric. He said it's easy to prove the existence of the spiritual. the material, he said, you cannot give a way and keep at the same time --but an idea, now that's entirely something else. I think he's right.
I'll stop now. Save some for next time.

Jan S.

*

25-10-2008
Dear Jan, Thank you for your ink-penned letter -- I actually bought myself an art pen, which isnt the pen & nib you've encouraged but would have been a step from the common blue biro, I resort to once again, had I not promptly mislaid it! And, though impressed by the wax seal on yours, I'm not equipped to follow suit! Please know I treasure both ink & seal --the touch of the centuries, after all, which is something to do with our conversation --the patina of tradition, which is probably also the way it would be disparaged, but for me it's living thread --as I said once, to my boy Tim, talking about the seemingly immense gulf of time between ourselves & the Ancient Egyptians, and I fudged the maths just a little bit : that's only thirty generations, thirty lifetimes, --nothing in the grand scheme of things --and Tim caught my humour, appreciated that image of tangibility.
After your reference to Hopkins and what you call landscapes of the mind I've returned to him, not that a particular reason is ever needed but it was a nicely troublesome one for me. That is to say, apart from the poems, I always visualise Hopkins's note-book selections, which are alive with the details gathered from his walks, and sometimes accompanied by thumb-nail sketches --so my first thought of him relates to acuity of observation, and he's right there with Gilbert White and all the naturalists on the shelf!
Still trying to meet your "landscapes of the mind" reference, I'm reminded of a phrase (and maybe it's my paraphrase) I've held for 30 years now, Husserl's "environment is perception", which might do the trick!
I guess your Mr Smibert holds a key --how he manages the difference between his Turneresque Tasmanian mountain grandeur and the dart & dash of the ink brush (--I'm referring to the small reproductions in the September Art Almanac).
The "eco-poetry" thing rolls on -- and all strength to it, tho' I'm keeping faith by my "topographical" project & prospectus! Louise Crisp was here the other day and we talked about the poets enrolling under the 'eco-poetry' tag, and she remarked apropos a contemporary that she was concerned such a poetry not be the dense & busy construction produced in its name. Mind you, her own work is sparse either in the Chinese/Beat manner or the French (like Jean Daive, a contemporary of one of your reluctant theologians, Celan, & others like du Bouchet & Guillevic), but her point was that for the landscape to speak the conventional poet had better be quiet & still!
I've been stimulated to think through some of this by a piece by Petra White, published in the Victorian Writer, which discussed what was meant by the sense of "place" in poetry [see the blog Placing Petra White].
In my mind, also, is a sequence of poems by Barry Hill, annotating a Chinese physician's journey to meet Taoist masters, ca 1380 A.D., after an exhibition of paintings, Fantastic Mountains : Chinese Landscape Painting from the Shanghai Museum (NSW, 2004). Barry's book is called As We Draw Ourselves (Five Islands Press, '08), and carries a lovely blurb from our mutual friend John Wolseley --the English painter who's evidently been born again as an Australian in this same period in which I'm identifying as a visitor &/or commuter!
Best Wishes,
Kris

*

14/12/08
Dear Kris, Thanks so much for the books. They actually arrived the day following our conversation on the 'phone. I have read some of the essays in the book on the New York Poets. I have some trouble in taking it in seriously. I keep wanting to sing to the writers & Poets (except maybe K. Koch) :
"Sing ho! for the life of a bear!
Sing ho! for the life of a bear...
The more it snows (tiddely pom!)
The more it snows (tiddely pom!)
The more it goes (tiddely pom!)
On Snowing."
It's time for the hums of Pooh to come into their own!
Happy Christmas to you & yours Kris,
Regards,
Jan S.


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CONTRIBUTORS' NOTES

TOM BATES Ex- UK, nowadays lives in South Australia, continues work on his Clare cycle of sculptures. Contributes to the John Clare Society Journal.
SUSAN FEALY, see Poems & Pieces #5, August/Sept,'08
SUE STANFORD lives in Melbourne, active locally & internationally on the poetry scene. Enrolled at Monash University engaged on a PHD involving translation & critical discussion of early 20thCentury Japanese haiku poets. Publications include Haiku Poetry Ancient & Modern (MQ Publications, London), Recollections (self-published chapbook), Opal (Flat Chat press, Melbourne, 2006).
JAN STUMBLES worked in the book trade in the golden age. Studied writing with Alan Wearne & co at RMIT before taking up the brush.

___________________________________________________________________

Edited by Kris Hemensley, with particular assistance from David Lumsden with the reproduction of images (for which, muchos gracias).
February 8th-19th, 2008
Melbourne



































Sunday, February 1, 2009

BUKOWSKI & CO EXPECTED SOON IN COLLECTED WORKS BOOKSHOP RESTOCKING!

Dear Friends, as you would expect, after such a happy Christmas, holes had appeared all around the shelves at Collected Works bookshop. However, the new stocks are expected s o o n!
Some of the authors & titles include :
MARY OLIVER, e.g., the two volumes in pb of her New & Selected Poems, and the new collection, God of Dirt;
several volumes of classical as well as contemporary HAIKU;
KEROUAC, of course, including Wake Up and Mexico City Blues;
some SHARON OLDS;
most of BUKOWSKI;
SAM HAMILL, still exciting interest after his recent visit to Australia c/o the Australian Poetry Centre's inaugural poetry festival in Castlemaine (Victoria);
some DENISE LEVERTOV, including esays;
American editions of some Irish poets including MICHAEL LONGLEY, LOUIS MACNEICE, THOMAS KINSELLA;
some BELLOW, UPDIKE, MAILER, HEMINGWAY and CAPOTE classics...
Overall the stock is good, but can & always will be replenished & augmented...

ENQUIRIES welcome by phone on 03 9654 8873 or by email
www.collectedworks.mailcity.com
Happy New Year!
Kris & co at Collected Works Bookshop,
1st floor, Nicholas Building, 37 Swanston Street, Melbourne, 3000

Thursday, January 1, 2009

THE MERRI CREEK #8, 2008/09 : POEMS & PIECES

SAM BYFIELD


AUTUMN PORTRAIT


Sunset, I step outside and catch
the west's last luminous seconds, the sky
evolving through its leafy spectrum,

before stars and the high pitched rhetoric
of crickets. Currawongs call in their alien
tongue, bring to mind the gentle language

of seduction, how it plays itself again
in dreams. Every evening this week
I watched the sun threading away,

into the ranges and desert belly
of this country, and I've imagined it
reaching you, setting into the Indian

Ocean, hoped that you would soon be
watching it, wishing that Winter
would hurry, so that I might return.



*


RETURNING TO LA NINA


A lizard's curiousity in the verandah's arched shade.
The smell of farms, a profusion of living after
the monotony of droughts. The garden overflows

and pulses like rainforest, spiders as big as fists
my mother tells me and I'm glad I wasn't here
to see them. Frangipanis hang like eggs, broken

and suspended. The birds are restless and the leaves
are restless. The wind and the heat. Sun's dapple
fascination. Feather pattern on the horizon.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


CLIVE FAUST



MAXIMS, MINIMS, SQUIBS AND ESSAYETTES


1. I didn't know that Phil Whalen had lived next door to Cid in Kyoto, nor about the regular meetings in San Francisco when young. "... and we used to solve the world's problems together." Yes, I know that scene, and it's very attractive. Wouldn't particularly want to re-hear the conversations (in my case, with Ian Watson, say) all these years later; but that's mainly so those two young men could stay free of second thoughts , and continue being young. Besides, part of the correction would be to the hope they had; and I don't like sniffing out hope --even past hope.

2. Whenever they concoct a new antibiotic for golden staph, the bacteria evolve into strains resistant to it. The micro-organisms are not stupid.

3. People come in and out of our lives casually and accidentally, as if our train were late, and we had to ask a stranger if he knew whether they'd rescheduled it, or whether this one was still meant to be departing on time.

4. I like the sound of a stamp --and on an ink pad too.

5. And real materialists, like Hume, who deny the supernatural, will usually pull some very unlikely deity out of the hat --like the "invisible hand of the market" he invoked for his friend Adam Smith. A lot of obeisance to that Deity round the bourse cathedrals of the world.

6. Blackberries hidden in prickles.

7. "Everything will be forgotten in the days to come." But only if there are days to come. And if there are no days to come, will everything still be forgotten?

8. In age you are treated as a walking ghost well before you die. And you see the world like one too, with its distant affairs of not much interest to you.

9. All alone one New Year's Eve, so I recalled friends, and had my Auld Lang Syne with the dead.

10. Losses of people. I don't really know how to cope. Oddly enough, the ordinary consolation that it is inevitable and universal, is more desolation than consolation for me: the idea of so much absence, and the dwindling in meaning of any one particular absence in the light/dark of that thought, of that truth in fact, is pretty much unbearable. I think how little now deaths of a hundred years ago mean, or fifty, or from one's earlier life. And how blase was one's own attitude to the death of grandparents, as being inevitable with such old people? And it was --but ... .

11. What happens after After is in the lap of the Gods.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



ROBERT JORDAN


PHILOSOPHICAL THINGS


1


sharing
the tight lipped
outside the world we love
shines attraction more crushing than
ourselves

packets
of compassion
visualise oasis
demons season and spring whisk soups
real zest

welfare
and thorny styles
imbues testy postures
detailing people gives notice
on pride

concerns
of give and take
are parlous excuses
calm moods texture reverie as
armour

full hopes
immerse on trains
while forks cut unawares
with nearly all things quiet and
trafficked


2


Judas
was double crossed
blamed on my ticklish sleeve
as delusion and faults forfeit
friendship

shiners
and leather shoes
fail to impress folklore
open myths verify jackets
tailored

bonfires
not gaiety
are love variances
heaviness radiates roaming
murmurs

umpires
and exchanges
pitch result for losers
a transplant injury mounts new
heart pumps

counsels
rouse my lament
and indict defences
what's the exposed image of lone
wedge tails?


3

lovers
and lapsed rhythms
sour most ardent courses
single mercies cherish pacing
dance steps

rackets
and landing strips
out of nowhere alight
details inflate my wanting to
crash land

milkshakes
lime and raspberry
salute a boy's penchant
while gritty dynamics secure
favours

reviews
and articles
riddle my excitement
incumbent chargers fiddle gripe
lambaste

the soul
cautiously let
have you been here that long?
Godot might ask, are you looking
at me?


[NOTES:
Judas Iscariot (died April, AD 29-33) was, according to the New Testament, one of the twelve apostles, and was apparently designated to keep account of the 'money bag' but is traditionally known for his betrayal of Jesus Christ.
Waiting for Godot is a play by Samuel Beckett, in which the characters wait for a man (Godot) who never arrives.]


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



ANNE KIRKER


READING


Academically
She insists
The book is about
Needing to
Observe and extend
Freud's political
Unconscious

When Graffito
Rubs against
the Holy Mary

But he quietly
Counters that
It is merely
And wholly
About Love
Memory paths
Ingrained

The grips of grief
And desires
Thwarted

And so
The Weekend
Begins


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



ANN SHENFIELD


LIKE SPIROGRAPH


Does it help that billions of miles away
planets spin in patterns drawn from spirographs?

Swirls within swirls, fractionally rotating
in invisible patterns, like the way a lily

won't open before your eyes, or how
you might even be that lily, if you don't

concern yourself with the parasite inside;
But that lily I mean, the one you didn't notice,

it's all brown petal now, so make sure you don't step on it,
instead watch your child grow taller, and allow her to lean

away, toward a parallel orbit, accept you are peripheral
and though you might have walked around here for days

and months and years, thinking you must be moving
toward something, each day was simply busy

with its own rewriting of grander patterns,
where you fit, only as a swirl, tracing another

swirl, within another swirl,
that's within another swirl.



*


THREE GOOD THINGS


On any day it might all come down
to three good things, or the way
kindness can return unpredictably

Not everyone believes these things
but today I repeat them as a mantra,
my own song that lifts up and banks

out of the littered street,
the plastic bags whose
contemporary beauty

only serves to remind me
everyone is either buying
or selling, then discarding

These words are too weak,
a breath or two might blow
them out, as a child blows

at candles on a cake.
Three good things
candles, cake, a child.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


CONTRIBUTORS' NOTES

SAM BYFIELD, born in 1981, grew up in Newcastle and after stints in Canberra & China now lives in Melbourne. He has published one chapbook, From the Middle Kingdom, and his first full-length collection, Borderlands, is forthcoming from Puncher & Wattmann (Sydney). He has been published in Australia & overseas, most recently in Heat, Famous Reporter, Meridian & The Asia Literary Review.
CLIVE FAUST lives in Bendigo to where he returned in the early '70s after several years in Kyoto. Contributed to The Ear in a Wheatfield in the '70s, featured in the 4th series of Cid Corman's Origin magazine in 1978, included in John Tranter's New Australian Poetry (Makar Press) in 1979, and has published 5 chapbooks (3 with Origin Press) and a selected poems, Cold's Determination (University of Salzburg Press). His review of John Phillips' Language Is appears in Jacket #32 ('07).
ROBERT JORDAN, see note in Poems & Pieces #4
ANNE KIRKER, see note in Poems & Pieces #1
ANN SHENFIELD, see note in Poems & Pieces #2

[Compiled November/December, '08 and typed up this 1st day of January, 2009
Kris Hemensley]

________________________________________________________________

Monday, December 8, 2008

GEOFFREY EGGLESTON

Shocked to find in Saturday's Age the following death notice :

EGGLESTON, Geoffrey Charles
15.01.1944 - 02.12.2008
Loved father of Nathaniel and Niniane. Father-in-law of Lucy and Richard. Grandad of Dexter.
Forever in our hearts.
A Memorial service to celebrate Geoffrey's life will be held at Montsalvat, Eltham on Sunday (December 21) at 3.00 pm

I'm embarrassed I havent known all week. I havent found notices anywhere else on the web. I'm sure I'm not the first messenger of these sad tidings, but add here our own condolences to family & mutual friends.
Love,
Kris & Retta Hemensley

Thursday, December 4, 2008

THREE FUNERALS AND A BIRTHDAY

1

An Open Letter to Corinne Cantrill, in the aftermath of her 80th Birthday Celebration, at La Mama Theatre, Carlton, November 9th, 2008

Dear Corinne,
We came to praise you --and do. The strains of the traditional "Happy Birthday" & "For she's a jolly good fellow" and the cheers raised in your honour as you hovered over the cake, still ring in our ears... I anticipated bumping into so many people associated with you (--and in this instance, 'you' includes Arthur &, of course, Ivor, as well as your magazine, Cantrill's Filmnotes, & your events & programmes principally at La Mama & your former home in Brunswick Road) --and I did meet a few of these erstwhile supporters, like Michael Lee, John Flaus, Jude Telford (who was also representing the late Bernie O'Regan), and didnt I hear Solrun Hoaas's name spoken as we took our seats?

You said that one of the reasons for closing your magazine, apart from loss of AFC funding, was the burden of recording the seemingly endless succession of deaths of friends & colleagues. Yet, I must say, given relatively long & stable life, doesnt one become a memorialist, a custodian of at least the memories of our friends' works & lives? But the magazine wasnt, to my mind, burdened by that aspect. It brimmed with filmmakers' contributions & critical commentary; it brought all the news a little mag, profuse with colour & b & w reproductions, could hold. Of course, the deaths of friends is always sad, but death itself is the tragic penumbra of all human life & endeavour and the definitive element of the wonderful cycle we express & project ourselves within... So when you then disparaged your work as a filmmaker because, you said, of its inconsequentiality in this doomed world --the end of life as we know it, global warning, climate change, environmental destruction, et al --I have to disagree.

You wouldnt have seen me shaking my head in the audience but hear me now. Calamity is what it is but surely cant be a conceptual surprise; it's the proverbial wake-up call and only ever unseats illusion. One year, five, ten? --you predicted the time-frame for this end of the world. Who knows? Whoever did? People drop off the perch anytime, anywhen --and the perch itself drops off some time (the natural process or a cataclysm). Not knowing when was always the situation. That's what highlights the beauty of our art & craft, since nothing produced lasts forever. Whatever the degree of human responsibility for climate change (--and lately I've been rereading Welsh poet & environmentalist, John Barnie, on this theme, in his book No Hiding Place : Essays on the new nature and poetry (University of Wales Press, 1996), which confirms me in a kind of cheerful fatalism, encouraging my amused wonderment at the miraculous place of human life within the deepest workings of geological time), I'd have to ask you Corinne, when was your film work ever political in that literal sense? How & when did you conceive of your extensive colour-separation experiments, for example, or your major landscape works ("film-form/land-form" as you called them), as politically effective statements? Or, to put it another way, what was your political conception of these consummately visual experiences, perceptional analyses if you like, often meditative in the way they induced a state of mind akin to wide-awake dreaming? How could your films have been 'all for nothing' when the something your statement supposes has more to do with social-political documentary than anything seen in your work?

Perhaps you were teasing us into consideration of the art & politics question (which never goes away & perhaps shouldnt for the clarification that attending to it always brings)? I've been there myself recently, responding to comments by John Berger, extracted from his essay, The Hour of Poetry, by Robyn Rowland for the on-line magazine, Zest, she edits for the Australian Poetry Centre. Hard to decipher exactly what Berger was calling for in his 1982 piece : an art of witness & testimony yet somehow not guaranteed by individuality, which is how I understood his valorisation of 'totality' and relegation of the 'sentimental' in his quip, "sentimentality always pleads for an exemption, for something which is divisible". For Berger it seems it isnt the individual & the complex of eccentricity realized as such but "poetry that makes language care because it renders everything intimate." It's as though poetry, per se, is intimate (and other forms not?), when the fact surely is that the art is made intimate by the poet's particularity & insistence on peculiarity (that is, detail & angle) whereby poem, in this case, rises to the ineffable, if that be the statement of the whole (--i cant bear to use the term 'totality' after Berger's political tar-&-feathering!), but only & always through the only-ness of an individual accent, and not the general. We're talking about that partiality which is voice and has to be to break through what every poet under the sun hears as hubub ( Berger's undifferentiated 'language') before experiencing the poem's rising up into song, as though the striving voice in each poem recognizes the chorus to which it belongs! The personal is always the pitch of it, never the general!

I remember the late John Anderson, to whom I introduced you Corinne as I did your work to him, confessing his confusion as to whether he could achieve more as an environmental activist than a poet. His poetry, he implied, was written to raise awareness of the sacred beauty & ecological importance of, say, the eucalypts; but, he anguished, could his time & energy be better spent physically preventing their destruction? I didnt understand the mutual exclusivity within his question. What prevents the poet from also being an activist? But neither did I accept the implication that art, whatever its literal subject, was subordinate to political action.

In 1979-80, I broadcast a series of Melbourne letters for ABC radio's Books & Writing programme. On one of these I announced "the end of the world, the new world" (which sounds a bit Orson Welles-ish now)... I remember being misunderstood, as though I were nihilistically clamouring for the end or giving up the good fight. Tom Shapcott & I think Dorothy Green, wrote to encourage me away from what they assumed was my defeatism & depression in the face of that time's political crisis. I probably contributed to the misconception because my sense then of the condition of the poet, let alone of the world, was undeveloped --like many of my friends & colleagues, I spoke out of the tension between the aesthetics garnered by an avant-gardist & the politics my left-wingism proposed; though acquainted with it, I hadnt yet recovered the religious or philosophical perspective I enjoy now. At that time --and it's thirty years ago already!-- I felt that because of the threat of nuclear war (recall Carl Sagan & the acceptance by both the American & Soviet sides of his 'nuclear winter' thesis?), the condition of the world we lived & made art in had changed : the ability to think the unthinkable, that is the end of the world, had created a new condition. Whatever happened, we now lived in a new world. I have come to think, though, that this was always so : crisis is the fact of it, masked for many years sometimes, and then painfully revealed again for what it is. For the apocalypse was always adjacent. No life without a death might be the moral to assuage personal grief but speaks also for the vast non-human time described by geologists of this earth & astronomers & physicists of the universe. It's all there, isnt it, in the ancient Chinese, from Arthur Waley's translation : "Yung-men said to Meng Ch'ang-chun (d 279 BC), 'Does it not grieve you to think that a hundred years hence this terrace will be cast down?' Ch'ang-chun wept."

Though I doubt your maths, Corinne, regarding the time-line of the beginning of the end (one year, five, ten, before we suffocate on the stench of the dead krill, rising from the dead oceans to the centre of the Australian desert), how is this supposed to invalidate art & artist? The noble krill notwithstanding, when wasnt the apocalypse upon us? Poet, novelist, artist, filmmaker as historian, witness, chronicler, singer of what-is, protester of what shouldnt-be : such roles are well known. But let's not neglect or disqualify the art of the art, of the poem, of the film. Dont sacrifice it to the anxiety to which activism responds. Dont lose heart! Believe with Wallace Stevens in "the heavens full of colours and the constellations of sound", whatever the semantic content! Believe in your life, believe in your life's work. Believe like your teacher, Harry Hooton, in this great adventure of life!

Happy birthday, and may there be many more!

All best wishes, Kris Hemensley

(11-17th, November,'08)



2

+

Mark Zenner passed away today after illness. A great reader of literature (poetry & prose), and a keen eye on contemporary cinema. He made short films and was a contributor to Senses of Cinema. We mourn him.
R.I.P. 3rd September, '08

[According to Bill Mousoulis, Mark Zenner had serious health problems in recent years. He was hospitalized in February, '08, recovered, then returned to hospital in August. He was being looked after by Sam Pupillo assisted by Daron Davies. As Bill says, "He was quite a character, fierce & unique."
At Collected Works Bookshop, I thought of him as the Russian-American, because of his accent and his literary taste. He valued Nabokov as much as Robert Lowell. He was erudite, opinionated & passionate. He coughed, smoked, spat contempt, chuckled with deep literary pleasure. He loved the art of cinema and hated the industry. His voluminous essay on Bresson is published on-line in Senses of Cinema; footage from unfinished films of his own (including a moth being eaten by ants) have been incorporated in films of Bill Mousoulis. We hope for a fuller biography of this enigmatic man in due course.]


3


+

We mourn Don Grant, a friend of this bookshop, a Scot & great enthusiast for Scottish poetry,Gaelic music & poetry, who was an artist & printmaker, a friend of artists & lover of the arts, passed away October 21st,'08 in Tatura, Victoria.
R.I.P.


[from an e-mail to Clinton Cook, October 23rd, '08 : "As I'd already shared with Julia [Harman] a couple of weeks or so ago, my anxiety for him whenever he climbed the creaking metal ladder to reach the highest shelf of the Scottish section of the bookshop. Happily never an accident. [In her email of 30th September, Julia wrote, "I can imagine Don searching in the heights for hidden treasures! I vaguely remember him climbing the ladder to the top of his own bookshelves when he knew there was something which would be of particular interest to me!"] He'd be looking for Iain Crichton Smith or Sorley Maclean, one or other of the Gaelic poets, of whom we spoke, especially after I'd begun revisiting Britain, late '80s, through the '90s. He presented me once with tapes, he'd made from his own collection of records, of such Scottish poets as Hugh McDiarmid, Sorley Maclean, Norman McCaig, & Irish poets Austin Clarke, Louis MacNeice, Seamus Heaney, & also the wonderful pipes of Seumus MacNeill & John MacFadyen. He may have first met Retta & I at Collected Works Bookshop via Julia, though intrepid bookman that he was, may also have simply discovered us on his city rounds. We were always aware of Julia's regard for him &, of course, of his championing of her as artist, printmaker let alone friend. John Ryrie was another mutual acquaintance for whom Don had great regard. After our boy Tim had visited Berlin, in the mid '90s, once with the Powder Monkeys, once solo, Don gave us a map-book of Berlin to pass on for what he assumed would be Tim's further visits. Retta & I remember him as a softly spoken gentleman, a lover of poetry, music, art, who brought his own stillness into the increasingly busy & noisy city world. Retta & I hope you can give him a great send off. Best wishes, condolences, Kris."]


4


+

Jacob Rosenberg has died. His funeral today, 31st October,'08, at Springvale. Poet, story-teller, memoirist; accomplished in Yiddish & English.

*

"Arm in arm we walk, but we walk apart
Will the horizon ever let us be?
Can we expel the ruins of our heart?"

(from My Father's Silence)


[The article on Jacob Rosenberg by Jason Steiger and the obituary by Jacob's editor & dear friend, Alex Skovron, both published in recent weeks in The Age newspaper, comprehensively describe his life & work. Having only recently viewed him on television appearing in a documentary about the international project to translate a particular Holocaust survivor's chronicle, written in Yiddish, of which he was one of the willing translators, it was a surprise then to hear of his death. I only have a few personal memories... The new & self-publishing author trying to flog us his wares back in the late 80s, early 90s, when the Shop was on the first floor of Flinders Way Arcade. He was persistent in the initial placement and the follow-up! Late 90s I remember discussing with him a new & younger poet's contention that poetry didnt or didnt have to mean anything (Wallace Stevens would have concurred), but what got up his nose was her example of Paul Celan. No meaning in Celan? Jacob was horrified. There are a thousand articles on Celan's Death Fugue alone! he said, shaking his head in exasperation. I reviewed his collection, Behind the Moon (Five Islands Press), in ABR, #237 (Dec.01/Jan.02), and quote here the opening & concluding lines. "Seamless with his two previous collections, Behind the Moon is Jacob Rosenberg's potted autobiography of a survivor of Lodz and Auschwitz, delivered from the hell, of which he writes with the kindness of an angel, into the heaven that Melbourne must then logically be. To be the poet of reality and not self-delusion is his commission. The trouble he contends with is that his present is posthumous, for the contemporary world could never be charged with such reality. Heaven doesn't exist. (....) Simplicity, concision, so as not to offend the subject with anything remotely resembling ornament : Rosenberg's poetry of the place and the condition 'where language died for very fear of words'."
R. I. P.]

4th December, 2008

________________________________________________________________

Sunday, November 23, 2008

TIM HEMENSLEY'S BIRTHDAY

[TIM HEMENSLEY'S JOURNAL, '99-2000]

Monday, 29/11/99

...So, me Birthday's been & gone --much w/out incident, really... i spose by one's 28th, 'specially after going thru' all the shit-ups, downs & in-betweenies --that i have over the last few years in partic., but over my entire life-span in general, just the mere fact of having SURVIVED to 'nother year is cause enough for celebration, making the actual Birthday itself kinda insignificant... not to say that celebrating yer actual day-of-entree to this here planet & life is necessarily something one "gets over" (cue that hideous contempo trendy turn of phrase -- used for everything from train rides to rock gigs --"i'm over it now"... kee-rist!! Hearing folks say that makes me wanna PUKE!), rather that, at least This Year -- & this time 'round, i was content enough to not feel TOO let-down or disappointed or distracted by not celebrating in "traditional" B-day mode (e.g. : party('s), or other such type o'stuff). Main reason for this, me-thinks, is the fact that (as i briefly alluded to on the preceding page) for the first time since i became addicted in '96 & entered the slow-but-steady down-ward spiral of vicious circles & catch 22's that that particular situation necessitates by its v. nature (& it is INEVITABLE i now realise -- once you invite the Devil in, you gotta pay his dues -- as cliched as that may be, it's the only truth there is -- to use is, actually, to lose, & there's no other way it possibly can be, don't matter who you are or how "strong" ya fancy yourself to be mentally : once the monkey bites, it bites darn deep-ly... end of story)...

But i've digressed a little here... i believe what i was about to say was this : The main reason for my feelings of "contentment" as opposed to my usual state of frustration/dissatisfaction on turning another year older is that for the First time in years, my battle 'gainst the heroin monster has drawn to a temporary halt, due to my afore-mentioned joining up to the methadone program; it's still somewhat surprising to me that events progressed to the point that my only course of salvation should be via the methadone "avenue" -- so to speak --, a substance and system i've always been suspicious of & -- in theory at least -- opposed to (the concept of being a "state controlled junkie", addicted insidiously to a government sanctioned & administered drug no better than smack (in some scenarios, quite arguably WORSE, as a matter of fact) being a situation my determinedly Anarchistic nature has always found to be hypocritical & mebbe even EVIL...) , & one that even a matter of weeks ago i was in stern opposition to, but THERE YA GO; part of my problem, i've in fact come to appreciate, & part of the reason for the LONGEVITY of said problem, is the fact that i never realised -- nor would allow myself to accept -- how seriously i was actually ADDICTED... in the back of my mind lingered always -- even in the midst of the most glaringly obvious DESOLATION (: of mind, of spirit, of body) & physical DETERIORATION -- the almost Nietzsche-ian, self-serving logic that when all was said & done, i could just DUMP this DOPE-thingy & simply walk away unharmed... 'f course, THIS WAS NOT TO BE. But then, IS IT EVER? i mean, ol' W'm S. Burroughs --icon of JUNKIES thru'out the universe -- certainly didn't do any of his prodigious output of writing / thinking / creating during his first 15 years of smack-addlement, despite the myths (of his own making) that his classic NAKED LUNCH was written whilst addicted (it wasn't -- in fact, 'twas written/compiled under the influence of MAJOUN -- a pot/hash like substance) --&, "EXILE ON MAIN STREET" besides, Keith -- also a great myth-maker 'bout his own ability to create &/or FUNCTION even, under the most chemically adverse conditions, -- didn't produce anything of any comparable worth during his wasted years, either ... bringing me to my main point -- that Dope addiction equals naught but the DESTRUCTION, or at least the putting-on-ice, of one's creative faculties. ANYWAY -- we'll see how successful this 'done program is in terms of helping kick smack & the associated lifestyle (or LACK OF LIFE-style, as the case may be...) in the long term, but the initial results are something i feel very satisfied with -- so far, i feel my life is in a better state than ever -- already feeling better & more positive than i've felt in LONG TIME. & that can't be nothin' but a GOOD thing!

O.K. -- "W.C.W. MONDAY NITE NITRO" is on, so my attention's required ELSEWHERE!

More later! ...

___________________________________________________________________

[Posted today, 23rd November, 2008, on what would have been Tim's 37th birthday. "At the age of 37...", yeah yeah, sweet tune, sweet thought, and, regarding Tim, sad & happy memories.
Kris Hemensley.]

Thursday, November 6, 2008

THE MERRI CREEK : POEMS & PIECES, #7, October/November, 2008

KLARE LANSON


Two Poems

GRAPH AXIS


we are all pushed along by books, dragged by boxes
counted by other peoples numbers, silenced by a roller
coaster, driven by the vision of the other and how bout

the mask that only seems to cover half the face these days.
most i's are in capitals yet this eye turns lines and graphs
into curves of water that drip fluidly into the place where

your most cherished dreams live. It's love in shades of blue.
It's life that equates meaning. It's an x with kisses and a y can't
we all just stop for a minute. It's clusters of memory that knead

us into recognition of self and plead with you to come to your
senses and cherish the colour of the sky. there is a loss of visible
markers, the blurs always make new scuffs into the streaming

voice of your body. dripping with sensibility are the hands shaken,
recording the unknown possibility. arrows are coordinates
for how we measure our life. they form stairways that lead into

a supermarket where we buy our daily needs. remote control
us. scratch raw figures. create formulas that socially collide,
make form blush with embarrassment, stretching for numbers.


***

TOLARNO IV


You walk through layers of dust
then climb into a bed made of
clean sheets that don't even
smell like you.

Glasses of unknown redness
clink lightly in the background,
our minds are entwined
with fragments of amber
filled nostalgia while our
bodies simply go along
for the ride.

We grow vines of Grenache
on arid land (with our bar talk,
small sighs and transparent
conversation).

You don't want a lover yet
somehow this drink of rusty wine
is cleansing and keeps the
dread and doubt filtered
through the eyes of
thoughtfully painted
glass windows.


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DAVID LUMSDEN


Two Poems


THE WHAT IS IT?
-William Henry Johnson (1957-1926) a.k.a. 'Zip'

From P.T. Barnum to the X-Files
it is clear we love to be humbugged.
So a young black man with a tiny skull
spent life exhibited in a gorilla costume
earning an extra dollar on days he did not speak.

Today how many grandparents
look back with half-averted eye
to a still clear image of him in his cage,
the indelible mark of a summer outing,
firm emblem of fears that cannot be classified?


***


CASA-MUSEU GAUDI, BARCELONA


There's something sparse
about the way he lived, at least
seen through the lens of what remains:
the little metal coffee cup,
plain bed, religious texts.

Outside another doomed project
grew around him like a garden,
the playground mosaics accreted
month by month, marine deposits.

Out towards the calm sea the imagined
vista of a cathedral's towers one day
high above the sprawling city,
the terrain so flat, yet life
one steep long homeward climb.



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IAN McBRYDE


Two Poems


ATLANTIS


Now Atlantis. Beneath the flood sleeps the collective exhalation of those
submerged early, those who entwined ride this breathless city.

Trapped between pews at the sodden tops of naves, the peeling hands
brushing algaed glass. Bumping roughly together in halls, in common rooms,
or puffed up and alone in long-drowned attics, wrapped in unravelled clothing.

If you take any words with you make them the opposite of these:
Edge out into the shoals. Leave no last note. Point away from the lake.


***


PIGEON ENGLISH


Each afternoon and the day's expected
rain lets itself gently down. From under

the ivy's hiss and drip, the pigeons are
cautiously calling to each other.

The north wind. You choose. No, you.
Soft walls, the torn broken covers

of our world. You choose. Bluefruit,
new schools, the roof of gloom.

The pigeons stop just after the rain does.
I hear them mutter, flick the water off

their wings, and then silence until dawn.
Torn corners, the north wind. You choose.


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SARI WAWN

CORRESPONDENCE


Kris, I read Petra White's article, Placing Poetry, in the Victorian Writer, June 2008 [it brought back memories of Petra's recent readings at Ruffy store and the 'particular placeness' in her poems] and your blog, Placing Petra White, with great interest. How good it is to find a conversation exploring the compelling --and vexed --issue of 'place'. As you imply, Petra is to be congratulated for tackling such an elusive topic in such a small piece.

As a refugee from the Wimmera plains, addicted ever since to wide open spaces with spare topography, I have been particularly interested in the concepts or genres of Place / Sense of Place / Landscape / Ecopoetry / Nature Writing and in recent years I have spent a lot of time reading and trying to write myself into both real and imaginary places. I really like your term 'topographical' writing. It invites a range of metaphors and carries so far no hint of cliche.

Is part of the problem, in tackling the issue of 'place', the term itself? My recent ventures into the field of Ecopoetry [see August blog, Mary Oliver's Sunflowers on
/The Edge_Collective/edge_pages/edge_blog11.html] have me questioning the whole process of labeling. Of course many poems labeled as eco or nature poetry have been wonderful explorations of ecology/nature, but then so have many others. As Susan Fealy's comments suggest [see Placing Petra White, "comments"], don't all poems assume the existence of a place created by the poet?

There may well be a gender aspect to consider here too in relation to outwardness/interiority, but there certainly are male poets who tend towards interiority on occasions. For example, in Songs My Mother Taught Me by John Koethe, are the lines :

"The place endures, unmindful and unseen / Until its very absence comes to seem a shape / That seems to stand for something // Why can't the unseen world - the real world - / Be like the aspects of a place that one remembers? / (....) why can't we believe in some imaginary realm / beyond belief, in which all time seems equal / and without the space between the way things are / and how they merely seem? In which the minor, / incidental shapes that meant the world to me - are real too? / Suppose that time were nothing but erasure / And that years were just whatever one had lost."

Each section of T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets is named for a particular place; also, at the beginning of Chris Wallace-Crabbe's wonderful, unsettling poem, The Rescue Will Not Take Place, are these lines :

"What do we live for? / We sort of know but / Can't quite put a name to the something which is / slipping away beneath us more - or maybe / Less - all the time, like a dream which won't / Disclose what it's deeply about but / Permeates a ripe summer day with / Its pauses and precedents..."

Finally, where would I be without the Web? Without blogs? Like many others, I visit more virtual places than any other these days, as a tourist, traveler, dreamer and even poet. My sense of space would be diminished without my virtual journeying. I should add too that I often find the idea of resorting to 'language' unhelpful : what does it really mean when you say that you like 'the language' of some writing? Surely it means the writing evokes something - a particular place or an idea or something else? Actually, I could go on talking about this all day. Maybe http://edgecollective.blogspot.com/ is the best place for this... And I haven't even started to discuss the women : my current favourites are Joy Harjo and Paula Gunn Allen - and of course there's Mary Oliver...

--October,2008
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BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES

KLARE LANSON works with poetry, sound and live art performance, fusing her words with electronic music, moving imagery, mobile film and voice effecting technology. Has released an album, Every Third Breath, completed an artist's residency at FRUC in France, and performed in London, Berlin, New York, New Zealand. Co-editor for Going Down Swinging (Melbourne). Contact, http://klarelanson.net
DAVID LUMSDEN lives once again in Melbourne after a prolonged stay in Warsaw, Poland. His poems have appeared literary magazines including P. N. Review (UK) and Fulcrum (USA). His blog of poetry commentary can be found at http://sparksfromstones.blogspot.com/
IAN McBRYDE is a Canadian born, Melbourne poet, widely published and anthologised nationally and overseas. He has published 8 collections of poetry and released 2 CDs of spoken-word. He has performed his work at many venues and festivals across Australia, as well as in England, Canada & the USA. His next collection, The Adoption Order, will be published by Five Islands Press (Melbourne), in 2009.
SARI WAWN is a member of The Edge Art Collective, based at Terip Terip in Victoria. The group's projects include a book, Palimpsests of Gooram Gooram Gong, and quiet but persistent music [the title is from Jonathon Bate's The Song of the Earth], --a celebration of all unsung places where the voices of the natural world hold sway over their human occupants.


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Published November 6th, 2008