Ten short poems

16 Comments

1.

Crow in Car Park

From a power pole set in black bitumen,
His jagged bleating reminds me,
Of parched paddocks.

What better place to deliver his dark eulogy,
Than from the cross-beamed comfort,
Of his suburban strainer post.

Tim Edwards



2.

The Japanese Lunch

The Japanese lunch
Has taken over,
For who can argue
With culinary grace
While the rude
Patron contrasts so
Deliciously with the food.

B. W. Shearer

Click here to listen an MP3 audio file of this poem, as read by B.W. Shearer.



3.

Vignette of the Shoalhaven

On dry sand
the old boatshed
leans on its shadow.

Mark Miller



4.

Enclosure

Seeking
the
big picture
he
instead
fell into a smaller frame
and
ever since has been
unable to break out of
it
unable or
unwilling

Will Fraser



5.

Prelude for the Damned

He is like a man who
has lost a sense of himself
driven by moment-hunger
thud of blood
twist of bone
he cannot see the future
or remember what has gone.

D. C. Hastie



6.

Convertia

They say after the storm
you should check the tide pools
for fallen stars.

Look beyond your reflection
for the spits of ore
and green charcoal.

Rake your fingers through
the sand, for the silver debris
of whole galaxies.

Even ask the starfish, lift it
carefully from the pool
place it in your palm

feel the tubefeet,
miniature hydraulics
and whisper your intent.

Andrew Slattery



7.

Letter (II)

The answering machine holds the ghost of you.
Your half-choked breathing.
The words you couldn't say.

The ground is fire-ground.
The bed, too vast to cross.
(I cannot play Leander any longer)

Kate Middleton



8.

Conceit

In an empty field
I found a metaphor.
It was dying,
no longer connected to its roots.

Recognising it from my childhood,
against my better judgment,
I tried to revive it.

Cameron Fuller



9.

December (Eschaton)

At the last day
the students leave the gates and exit into Summer.
They ramble out in packs, together,
but wander from each other;
Drift off on roads alone
looking for home.

Matthew Arkapaw

Click here to listen an MP3 audio file of this poem, as read by Mark Arkapaw.


10.

Bat

There's a bat
in my sink
abseiling the frypan.
A soggy myopic
misery.
It wall-hugs the shadows
like some bespectacled spinster/
before I release it to the night
with wishes for improved navigation
and encounters only
with those gentle to wallflowers.

Susanne Kennedy

 

 

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Existing comments

Ten poems, none rhyming. Extraordinary. It is one thing for your publication to feel liberated from the requirement to consider only rhyming verse but your publication seems to be quite determined never to even countenance the rhyme as if it is something grown up poets should have left behind.
There are still many of us who find free verse by its very nature forgettable. Many of us are at peace with the fact that constructing good rhyming metered verse requires of the writer both cleverness and a worthy theme. Many of us cannot quite tell when free verse should simply be considered a very short piece of prose, which being plotless and characterless remains unmemorable.
Magnificent works like Slessor's Five Bells prove that rhyming is not all, but to make works with rhyme and rhythm yet never appear to have opted for the false word is the challenge and typically the summit of the poet's art.
You should not disdain this skill as some folksy relic as the selection of ten unstructured pieces suggests you do.
It's quite perverse
to choose free verse
When all the time
The metered rhyme
Is what the folks at work and home
Expect when they are fed a poem.
andrew coorey | 17 October 2006


Go Andrew! Eds, I suggest you offer A. Coorey a chance at publication - or better yet, I have a limerick or two up my sleeve... There once was a girl from Panama... No?
Aurora Lowe | 17 October 2006


I don't think that poetry has to rhyme. What a ridiculous statement!I particularly liked BW Shearer's poem.nice work.
Frank Patterson | 18 October 2006


The problem with the rhyming poem is that anyone can rhyme a couple of lines and then suddenly they think they are a burgeoning poet. Poetry is about more then the ability to rhyme; there are nuances, levels, cadences and timing to consider. of course, a well-rhymed poem is a thing of beauty, but the words should never be secondary to the rhyme, and this is the trap many, many people fall into.
John Allison | 23 October 2006


The problem with the rhyming poem is that anyone can rhyme a couple of lines and then suddenly they think they are a burgeoning poet. Poetry is about more then the ability to rhyme; there are nuances, levels, cadences and timing to consider. of course, a well-rhymed poem is a thing of beauty, but the words should never be secondary to the rhyme, and this is the trap many, many people fall into.
John Allison | 23 October 2006


John Milton eschewed rhyme in his great work"Paradise Lost" (and Regained) one of the greatest pieces of English literature ever written. He called his verse English Heroic Verse and it reads magnificently. Every time.
Alan Slatyer | 24 October 2006


More poetry please! This is wonderful to read and hear.
theo Dopheide | 25 October 2006


hey umm the poems are great i would love to hear more thanks bye
Shannon | 26 February 2007


Variety is the spice of life they say and there are varying forms of poetry folk can use to express themselves. I personally enjoy the tradition Paterson, Lawson and Co. left us and there are a number of poets today who do a fine job of keeping the tradition alive.

www.users.tpg.com.au/thegrey
Merv Webster | 21 April 2007


I agree wholeheartedly with Andrew's reflections on free verse. I, too, happen to be one of those poets who enjoys playing with words, rhythm and rhyme even if doing so becomes a bit of an obsession at times...

Rhyming curse

I think my problem's getting worse
My every thought is thought in verse
This habit's now become a curse
It happens all the time.
Each word inside me rattles round
It plays with pattern, rhythm, sound
And won't come out until its found
The perfect one to rhyme.
I really wish that I could mend
This most excruciating trend
Oh, when will this affliction end?
What happens if it grows?
It's shown no signs of stopping yet
If I go on like this I bet
My brain will very soon forget
The way to think in prose!

© Jenny Erlanger
Jenny Erlanger | 04 June 2007


Any fool can complicate
A theory, premise, or debate,
It takes an expert clear of mind,
Without the need to hide behind,
Academic writings dense,
Knotty, thick, opaque, immense.
The expert is the one who can,
Make something complex “Simple, man!”

In much the same way, any yob,
Can wank a “poem” off with his knob
In one hand, whilst in other, quill,
Ejaculates non rhyming swill.
The true poet is the one who knows,
That pomes is pomes, and prose is prose.
He does the work, and uses meter,
Because he knows that rhymes are sweeter.

Logan McLennan | 07 August 2007


you rock my socks
Deagely | 20 December 2007


violets are blue roses are red my kids were wright you aren't so cool
hc | 19 November 2008


I had a cat
No, it was a rat
No, a bat
Ya, it was a bat
Not a big
Bat
But a small
Bat
About the size
Of a
Crow

-"G"
"G" | 21 May 2010


ewww they're nasty!
bob | 24 February 2011


I needed a rhythmic poem and I couldn't find one!! The poems were pretty good, though
Adriana | 05 March 2013


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