keywords: New Australian Poetry

There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.

  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Love with an open hand

    • Various
    • 13 March 2012

    When I'm with you, I take off my rings, unlatch my watch and untie my hair. And it's so quiet, so so quiet, like a film without a soundtrack.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Last of the cat poems

    • Karl Cameron-Jackson and Mike Hopkins
    • 06 March 2012
    5 Comments

    With fresh blood in your mouth you are no longer cat, house-trained to please. Now you kill wantonly, revel in the fear you invoke in others. Man was created, just like you, to run free in the killing-fields ... Is this what God meant you to be? To revert to what you once were?

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Catholic writers' agnostic appeal

    • Lucas Smith
    • 29 February 2012
    7 Comments

    The priests are ineluctably compromised: one has capitulated to state pressure to marry; the other has fathered a daughter and drugs himself with alcohol. But the author's achievement, and a mark of his faith, is his ability to 'distinguish ... between the man and the office'.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Jesus and his kids

    • Various
    • 28 February 2012
    3 Comments

    they say what's with the whole guy on the cross thing, man, that's macabre, that's sick, you people look at a guy dying of torture every day, you hang him in your churches and houses and offices, you carry a dying guy in your pocket, that's just weird, and I try to say he's a dad ...

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Abominable blood ties

    • Various
    • 07 February 2012
    1 Comment

    My crumpled iris-rim lip is her lip; the fine spoked wheel beneath my grimacing eye has etched itself deep with years upon her face. The wet red meat of my viscera is made of her, a shy-hood I cannot take off ... Why are you doing this to me?

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Dreams of pulling Australia out of its slump

    • Ian C. Smith
    • 31 January 2012

    Although most are probably long dead, they seem happy, even excited. Perhaps they will toss triumphant hats. The wind might favour their team, even steal tossed hats, but not hope.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Receiving a past

    • Anne Elvey
    • 24 January 2012
    1 Comment

    From the glistening trees the chorus of what was said became me, before I registered the sacrifice. Now from the yes, a small face looks up mute. My eyes are still selfish and my ears hunt a magpie's repertoire. She spills it on the blue page.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Before the fall

    • Kevin Gillam
    • 17 January 2012
    2 Comments

    The chant of the unseens — ripple in a magpie's throat — as the sigh of a city's prayer cushions — forgiveness has the weight of faith and cloud. And then rain, symphonic on tin, washing walls of doubt.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Best of 2011: Songs of England at war

    • Philip Harvey
    • 05 January 2012
    1 Comment

    Gallipolli was a disaster and a relatively minor conflict, but it is upon such 'minor' conflicts that Empires are built. These songs go to the heart of a contradictory dilemma: the love of country on the one hand and the ugly extremes of patriotism on the other. Published 23 February 2011

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  • AUSTRALIA

    Rights for kids at Christmas

    • John Falzon
    • 22 December 2011
    7 Comments

    Democracy has been described as 'the intrusion of the Excluded into the socio-political space'. Children and young people figure prominently among the excluded in our society. When you start to wonder why, you begin to re-evaluate the strength of your democracy.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Feast of the fantastic

    • Peter Gebhardt
    • 20 December 2011

    This place is bigger than any kingdom. It opens out, boundary-less, to everyone everywhere. It doesn't matter how many come, and the skateboarders will always get a seat at the banquet, where they will taste the wine and food, learn to sing with the host and rejoice in his good.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Learning to walk and to dance

    • Various
    • 13 December 2011
    2 Comments

    When I last saw you, still horizontal, interrogating the floor, you'd begun reversing Kafka — a slow transformation from beetle to vertical human. Powered by a new locomotion, you steer yourself towards the stereo; music erupts into your world, is taken entirely for granted.

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