Les Murray, Stephen Edgar

Themes: Poetry

How often do you get the opportunity to walk up to the author of some of your favourite words and say “thankyou”? I did tonight.
Les Murray probably won’t be around for all that many more years and his voice is as much a treasure as his words. I’m so glad I got to hear him talk about his work, and read portions of Freddy Neptune. Now I have his voice alongside my own when I read his poetry. I told him about reading his poems with my family around campfires at Christmas time when I was growing up. I got to say thanks.
I also got to hear Stephen Edgar, who I hadn’t previously come across: beautiful. Tomorrow I’m going to track down a copy of History of The Day, his latest collection, and post a copy of Memorial.

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Easter Saturday, the endless ‘Today’ of this time between times…

Themes: Easter, Poetry, Selections

Easter Saturday is a grey ocean of sorrow,
and a man in a little boat. Peter escaping
A World paused and become inscrutable.

No word in the wind and waves, still still.
A spirit hovering over the waters. No form
to a void the questioning. And the answers.

From today, what is this world? This earth,
of rotting gods’ bodies, fecund with promises,
who eats her young, slowly digested by sea?

Oh please swallow me! Drink me down
like Jonah. For though it was all Not,
I denied it. When yesterday today was

And hope hung. Outstretched they bask
On the beach, and children keep the Sabbath
with games that have no obvious resolution.

Of dying and rising, who can tell? That tomb? Besides
the fresh cut grave, the wounded earth, I listened.
But his mouth was stopped with stone.

Image by mshades

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The Poetry of Sarah Palin

Themes: Poetry

The Poetry of Sarah Palin. – By Hart Seely – Slate Magazine

If knowing how to field dress a moose doesn’t get you in the mood. Check out Sarah Palin’s more sensitive side. And then slip over to the Economist for your chance to pseudo-exercise your right to vote.

“You Can’t Blink”

You can’t blink.
You have to be wired
In a way of being
So committed to the mission,

The mission that we’re on,
Reform of this country,
And victory in the war,
You can’t blink.

So I didn’t blink.

(To C. Gibson, ABC News, Sept. 11, 2008)

“Befoulers of the Verbiage”

It was an unfair attack on the verbiage
That Senator McCain chose to use,
Because the fundamentals,
As he was having to explain afterwards,
He means our workforce.
He means the ingenuity of the American.
And of course that is strong,
And that is the foundation of our economy.
So that was an unfair attack there,
Again based on verbiage.

(To S. Hannity, Fox News, Sept. 18, 2008)

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An ampler physics

Themes: On Fatness, Poetry

Les Murray has this great poem – a tribute to The Fat.
It’s not really possible to describe, so go and look it up. It’s called ‘Quintets for Robert Morley’ you’ll find it in New Selected Poetry or Learning Human or The People’s Otherworld and probably other places. Even better, click here and you can even listen to Les read it for you.
I love that he wrote a tribute to the fat, and that he wrote it in Quintets – the fifth line being just a little bit more than usual, hanging over the top of the belt.
As someone with an expanding paunch and a sometimes heavy soul, I find the final quintet satisfying:

“So much climbing, on a spherical world;
had Newton not been a mere beginner at gravity
he might have asked how the apple got up there
in the first place. And so might have discerned
an ampler physics.”

(Les Murray, Quintets for Robert Morley, New Selected Poems)

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Urban Hymns – Rainy Morning in the City

Themes: Poetry

I can’t hear myself.
Clouds crowd the top of the buildings.
Red hair a flare down the grey street.
Beats, too many beaten, asyncopation.
Your Journey Begins Here, Go!
around, around the block,
It ends.
Clouds shroud the New Jerusalem

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Psalm 65:1-4

Themes: Poetry

A silence of praise is yours,
Sounds unsounding ring out.
In broken language and crippled moves,
We complete our vow.

Every word is yours,
and still words fail
Every move is yours
Let us give praise!

To you, all flesh is turned,
Into your ear, our hearts and hurts are poured.
The Hearer, the Ear of Prayer.
Who can resist You listening?

An ugly word, what weight of drowning?
More than silence is worth.
You bring forth my voice,
O, Word of forgiveness.

In your house I live.
No guest. A son.
The angels ascending and descending on Him
Raise me up!

In holiness, in that holy place, in His space.
The one who lives with you, lives.

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