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Keywords: Australian Poets

  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    A keyboard or a drone

    • Various
    • 04 December 2012
    4 Comments

    Have this photograph ... In the body strewn pavement see the cardboard huts. Digitally processed. Glossy finish. As I rattle my tin, may it rattle your conscience? 

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Meeting mortality

    • Anne Elvey
    • 06 November 2012

    This is the wild thing that turns to loam, the seal pup dead on the shore, a fish caught in a crevice of rock when the tide ebbs.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Children breathe the air of protest

    • Various
    • 04 September 2012

    Children need to walk together, arm in arm with strangers, wear badges of hope and T-shirts with lifelines, sing words of wisdom and history, chant choric responses of camaraderie in a mass movement of human voices. Understand the justice of causes and the constant need for change.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Shaking Australia's 'brutal sexual economy'

    • Jen Vuk
    • 16 August 2012
    15 Comments

    Author Kathy Lette recalls: 'We girls were little more than a life support system to a pair of breasts ... Once I realised Germaine Greer wasn't just rhyming slang for beer, I wanted to write down our story.' Puberty Blues is what you get when teenage girls with a grudge show the world what they're made of.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Canary in a nursing home

    • Louise McKenna
    • 31 July 2012
    3 Comments

    At times the music holds him still, and a jonquil light beams through two pinholes in his brain, singing of a caged soul.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Across the purgatory sea to Botany Bay

    • Maria Takolander
    • 17 July 2012
    3 Comments

    Sophie, a Malagay slave in Mauritius, torched a barn housing a collection of leather straps — the flames soaring like the sounds of the black horses inside — and was packed off in a ship-sized crate to New South Wales.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    The epiphanies of our lives

    • B.N. Oakman
    • 10 July 2012
    4 Comments

    I want  you to list the epiphanies in your lives, says the lecturer. We'll build poems around them...  I ponder, but cannot manage to think of one. Does he really believe people have several? My extra years are like binoculars peered through from the wrong end, shrinking past significance to present inconsequence.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    The beauty that was Peter Steele's mind

    • Morag Fraser
    • 29 June 2012
    24 Comments

    Peter Steele SJ – priest, poet, teacher, essayist, homilist, and friend – died on Wednesday 27 June 2012. During Eureka Street’s first months, in 1991, he gave its editor some riding instructions. Media magnate was not his style. ‘Publish the very best writing you can lay your hands on’, he said. That was it. But it was more than enough.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Train gaze

    • Various
    • 01 May 2012
    1 Comment

    Her deep eyes glance up from the page
 without perceiving me, the hidden camera trained
 on her by my unbroken gaze. 

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Separating art from war in Iran

    • William Gourlay
    • 26 April 2012
    3 Comments

    Sabre rattling, both by the Iranian leadership and by Western politicians and pundits, dominates the headlines and steers public discourse about Iran. A recent film, and a current art exhibition, remind us of the country's 'rich and ancient culture that has been hidden under the heavy dust of politics'.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Poets in wartime

    • Various
    • 24 April 2012
    2 Comments

    O for a day without comrades bloody fallen, lovers in guttural grief, shrieking, sobbing, and mothers in stoic dignity, mantillas drawn tight, our heroic flame, corralled colts brazenly waiting, cruelly snuffed. Have we learned nothing my friend? 

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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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