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dirt
sunset
sunrise
sunburnt
Old fella
Blackfella
Culture
Creation
Biamie
Dreaming
Belonging
Me.
Kerry Reed-Gilbert
...1,000ks Wiradjuri country
Eagles, angels, sun bursts,
gum trees, geraniums
and a pocket full of poetry.
I travel my country,
my land,
my life,
my religion.
The bush calls me back
to the time of before.
Before tar and cement.
Brick walls and tin roofs.
To the time of Creation
where men were men
a ...
I knew he was mine
frothing at the mouth
(literally speaking)
I was waiting for him
my body ready to strike
Like a leopard
on the verge of attack
I waited, biding my time.
I held my breath.
My muscles taut
prepared to pounce
to strike, to maim.
I knew the moment was at hand
the spirits played around him
When the spirit has been broken
and there’s no place to go
When you look around the world
wondering what went wrong
When your heart is shattered and
torn no patch ever big enough to help it mend.
No bandaid to help it heal.
When tears roll down your face
cascading like a roaring river
When the spirit has been br ...
I was all angle once
sharp and schist-like
a spiked rock dragon-back
arching into air
too late you learn the long
wash of days given grist enough
finds your fissures
chafes them wide
these days knowing I wade
in a rising tide of blo ...
(poem composed of Hansard search results from November 1962)
one of his colleagues has gone into a significant silence
to silence us, but this is having no effect
listen in silence
spoken and heard in silence
the Prime Minister has observed an unusual silence on this matter. There was an old Australian ...
(translated from a Persian ghazal by Rabi’a Balkhi)
I am back, locked up in this love again,
all my daring escapes end here.
Love is a broad shoreless sea
tell me, o wise ones, who swims it and lives?
To take love all the way
you must embrace every horror;
adore ugliness like a fair face;
make sweet delight of poiso ...
spotted gum
tall classy lady
cradling a listing turpentine
(shaggy old top-heavy
barrel-chested nuisance)
she props him
takes the strain
holds her own line almost true
that’s what you get
when you get
married in a windstorm
but the wind always changes
strands you in strange attitudes
let him slid ...
18 October 2014
It’s an accident
of composition: sun, sky, bird.
White orb on storm grey
punctuated by a raven –
but which composes which,
and which is accidental?
Is it the sun
a hole
sucking in a bird,
or Icarus about
to singe the sun?
Against the grey
both soft and ...